The thumping never stopped, the door was bulging with each hit. Ten guardsmen pushed the opposite way. The opening doors to the garrison building were designed to withstand enormous pressure. But they weren’t enough to withstand the beating so guardsmen aided in keeping them shut. The room Private John Dolezalek was sitting in was big enough to fit two squads with good legroom. The ceiling held a miniscule light that dimly illuminated the room. Three hallways exited from the room, two going opposite each other east and west from the door, leading towards the battlements and one straight across from the door leading into the building. The light flickered a little bit by every knock on the doors and then… silence.
A couple of guardsmen lifted their heads and woke their tired compatriots. John got grabbed his lasgun and stood up, slowly backing away from the door towards the east hallway.
Now John gripped his lasgun as hard as he could, knowing that it’s would be the only protection he had. Suddenly the door burst open in flames and lava engulfed the guardsmen fortifying the door. A loud scream erupted from the dying soldiers as fiery figures ran in with terrible smiles.
All the guardsmen shot everything they could at the figures but their armour was strong. The warriors were wreathed in flame and their skin was tight against their skulls coloured in a deathly pale. John rushed down the hallway, it seemed so unnaturally long, and all he could hear behind him was the deathly chant of the fiery soldiers,“ Let the galaxy burn!” and the dying screams of the guardsmen.
He ran past the stairs and onto the battlements knowing that they would not spare him. On the battlements he saw fellow soldiers firing into an ocean of the traitors with las shots and heavy bolter fire. The traitors exchanged with their own bolters and started climbing the battlements.
Although these men did not burn they’re armour was the colour of flames and they possessed the same evil of the maddened warriors at the doors. Las shots bounced off harmlessly as some succeeded in getting atop the fortifications.
They opened their flamers as they chanted monotone “ Let the galaxy burn.” Guardsmen who were caught in flames yelled out and stumbled amongst themselves, easy picking for the flame clad warriors. A guardsman tumbled over the wall and down into the traitors, a torch in the darkness.
John took his las gun and jammed it into the chest of a warrior just getting up. Luckily he was off-balance and he plummeted to the ground. Others were fully atop the wall having their way with the defenders. John stood and shot from his gun. A las shot found a soft spot in a piece of armour. The orange soldier dropped to the floor but his flamer never burnt out, causing smoke to smog John visions. Then out of the smoke the eye of the young soldier spotted a shadowy figure from the smoke. But it was too late as a nozzle was opened up on him smothering him in flames. Waves of pain wracked through him and after what seemed like ages of torment, he grew a liking to the burning feeling, then he blacked out.
Vision came back to John now, it seemed like a nightmare but after moments he realized everything that happened was all to true. He leaned against a small brick wall. Everything around him was covered in debris; the only thing left standing was the brick wall. A wasteland covered in red mist. The whole garrison building was gone. Destroyed by those homicidal maniacs. But the one thing that really unnerved him were all the colossal, spiralling pyres.
From his vision they looked as if they went up miles, they probably did. Flying around them were tiny dots of orange, spiralling up or down them is all they did.
He took a quick glance at himself, his flak jacket was charred black and he was missing his helmet. He still had his lasgun with him, after muttering a quick prayer to the emperor he got up and began searching for anything that could help him. After a few moments he spotted a helmet and put in on his head, he always felt safer with it on. The pyres were everywhere; they went on for miles around.
Thinking that those traitors scoured this area, he knew he wouldn’t be finding anyone too soon.
Then something caught his eye. He ran towards it, uncaring of the shrapnel and debris littered around him. When he finally got there he saw a miracle, a vox caster was what he needed to get him some help.
He took the mouthpiece and turned it on. It worked.
“Oh, emperor be praised!” he shouted out. “Is there anyone out there?” eschewing protocol he desperately repeated, “Is there anyone out there?” After a couple of moments he heard static then a muffled voice.
“Who is this?”
“Private John Dolezalek, reporting.”
“And this is Junior Officer Kempt, what’s your situation soldier?”
“Was garrisoned in the fort, came under attack by enemy forces. Only one left, requesting some help.”
“Relay coordinates.”
“Longitude 56° and latitude -169°. Putting simply is I’m over the ruins of the garrison building.”
“We’ll send some help.”
The chimera rumbled across the wasteland at top speeds, but slowing down when entering large scrap piles.
“Why do we have get this guy.” Complained Barker.
“Because if we don’t, Kempt will stick a frag up your ass!” Sergeant Ferner was in a bad mood about it too, he didn’t understand why they had to pick up one soldier close to death a hundred miles from their base with a full squad.
Then he saw it. A red mist permeated everything while large spiral pyres dotted the landscape.
“Hell no! If Kempt wants this guy so bad he can get him himself.” Ferner was worried now. “Turn this around Barker…Now!” Barker did what he was told and the chimera stopped and began going the opposite way.
Then, a large thump was heard. The troops in the back saw what looked like talons grip the top of the vehicle. Then a black liquid poured in from tiny holes left from the footprint. It continued to pour in from more holes. The tank now stopped.
In a second the liquid ignited. The guardsmen had no chance. Screams erupted from within the chimera as Barker and Ferner got out to look to see what happened.
They opened the hatch and could see nothing but flame and black forms on the ground. Then they looked up. The little dots that surrounded the pyres were starting to change direction and swarm around, and then looked as if they were coming at them.
“Run you idiot!” They ran as fast as they could but a flying form snatched Barker in its talons.
“Sarge, help!” he was lifted high into the air out of Ferner’s sight. Then he turned around to look at the dots. He looked closely and saw that they were really skulls wreathed in flame. He took his lasgun and fired into the horde of daemons. He yelled to the skies. “For the Emperor!” Then he was buried underneath the infernal skulls.
John saw the chimera drive up to him. It took a turn and stopped with the hatch in front of him. What he saw was not a fellow guardsmen greet him but one of those orange bedecked warriors. It curved its mouth into a smile.
“ Want a ride?” And he was knock out from behind and carried in.
Darkness… that’s all he saw. Then the life was pushed into him. He woke screaming. Fire burned his back; he embraced the pain for what it was. He took no pleasure from it but a degree of comfort that helped him survive.
He cackled maniacally as the fat of his skin began to drip off his back. One of the orange armoured men kept branding him with the sign of a flame, all the marks seemed to twist and writhe in the flames.
He forgot time and place, for they were useless to him, as long as he had his fire he would live on and darkness came back to him.
A bright fiery light burned his eyes. He seemed to be on the ground, choking, screaming and dying. He breathed deep as air came into his lungs; it’s sustenance escaping him. It was hot, but not hot enough for him, he needed his flame, his precious flame. But it was not there.
A group of the armoured men watched on. To their eyes he seemed like a fish out of water, hopelessly flopping around. One lifted up his melta and blasted John with magma. He stopped his convulsions. He turned on his stomach and began licking the heat out of the lava.
Then pain in his stomach flared as he was kicked off his flame. His eyes stared only at the pile of lava. He began a slow crawl towards it as the onlookers watched on.
Suddenly he was picked up by two and thrown into a pod. A scream of sorts escaped him. He watched through the glass pod as the heat from the ground floated to the sky. He curled up, his convulsions returned and he lost all sense of background.
Then the marines opened a tube into the pod and began to pour magma in through the glass (it’s unmeltable glass). He eagerly awaited it and put his mouth to the hole. Lava flooded down his throat and permeated his body. As well the pod continued to fill and the lava cut out his sight and darkness came back.
Slowly his vision came back. He was in some sort of boiler room. The walls were of black rock and everywhere he looked he saw mechanical equipment. He was tied down on a black rock platform but strangest of all, lava was being pumped into his body by tubes of hot metal. He didn’t have any strange urges that he had before. He guessed it was the hot liquid that entered his body.
Heavy thuds began to shake the room. One of the marines that captured him looked down upon him. Strange, this one looks a bit taller and broader then the others. His face was hidden behind a strange mask with a design he recalled in some books (I’m trying to explain one of those medieval knight helmets with the cages). In a voice that seemed familiar to the crackling of flame he spoke aloud.
“ Welcome brother, to Optumo V.” he took a scalpel and put it in between his cage, when he took it out it was charred black. “ You have been chosen by myself and three others to join the ranks of destruction,” he paused, “You out of all other mortals survived the attack on Gorva, and it is you who needs the one thing we praise to survive!” “ The gods of chaos gifted you, you see…you need this to live another day.” He pointed towards the packs of lava that infiltrated his body. He gave them a tug and John jerked.
The man started laughing. “So we’ll need to make some modifications to that fleshy sac you call a body.” And John knew underneath that cage a smile creased upon the mouth of the tall marine as two other with mechanics joined him. “ Sweet Dreams.”
And darkness overtook him and excruciating pain swept over him.
He awoke in the same pain that he felt during his blackout. He was still in his pod. Slowly the lava drained away and he began to see where he was; he was in a room filled with dozens of the same pods as his but only four others began to drain away.
As he inhaled he choked as oxygen filled his lungs. He could not breathe so he exhaled the substance from his lungs. There was a nothingness filling his body. He soon grew dizzy. He was beginning to black out again.
But then two diminutive figures stepped into the room. They wore brass armour and twisted their blacks beards into braids. They wore helmets that sheathed their faces.
They picked John off the floor and stabbed needles into his neck. And they hauled him out of the room. John noticed something else about himself. He felt stronger, smarter and more cunning; he also remarked that his skin seemed to have hardened.
The two squatted beings brought him into a room that seemed to twist the idea of a doctor’s surgery room. Metallic tools layered the shelves and hung on the walls. Blood littered the ground underneath the platform in the middle. They propped him up against the platform and buckled him in with chains.
Then a man stepped in. He wore the same armour as the others but he didn’t wear a helmet. His face seemed to be stretched across his skull but most disturbing was that his mouth was a maw with four sprouting tentacles going in each direction.
The platform suddenly jerked upwards putting him in an almost standing position. One of the two little men pressed a button on a control panel in the wall. A machine above began to descend towards him.
It hit the ground with a thud. John turned his head to one side and was greeted with the same armour worn by the warped marines.
“ I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.” The wicked tentacles flared up when he spoke. One of the midgets opened John’s mouth wide enough for the man to put a scalpel into his mouth.
John heard a screech of metal. “ Yes, your lungs are no more.” His tentacles pointed at John’s chest. “ As a replacement you have a new spine that is connected to your new breathing apparatus in your chest. Made of adamantium so you won’t brake apart.” It looked as if he smiled. “ But, its empty. So we need to fill it with this…enjoy.”
One of the squats brought in a large tube with a funnel at the end and the other brought a keg of lava. They began pouring it in. Only segments of the liquid got in at a time but they were accelerated through the tube. Into his mouth landing in his stomach.
Each hit felt like a bullet. He squirmed in his bindings. And at last the draining stopped. They ripped the tube out of his mouth and left to come back with an assortment of drills. The man in the orange armour left.
The two runts began taking the armour of the rack of the machine then drilling the pieces on while the machine itself attached pieces and combat stimulants.
Pain took over John as he silently screamed. Finally the little men finished fitting everything except for the helmet. It came from above. It’s face held nothing but two eye slits and a grate covering the mouth. From his forehead along the middle a Mohawk of bony spikes protruded up from the helmet. They left the room, leaving him in darkness. He could breathe now, and when he exhaled flames belched from his mouth out of the grate. He bellowed his rage to the gods. He threw curses of the emperor to the darkness.
One of his gauntlets seemed to have a flamer built in to it and an accursed bolter was attached to his hip, ready to be pulled out at any time. And with that he rested in his shackles waiting for someone or something to free him.
Time seemed irrelevant but it seemed like millennia before the grand armoured man stepped in his presence.
“ Ah, look who has his armour on.” John remembered that this was the one who he had seen before. “ It would be a good time to introduce myself now.” “ I am your new master, I am one of the four, you will call me by the rank of Praetor but know me as Eversio Occasus. And you… you are now part of my company, the righteous fourth of the Pyre. And together with the help of your supreme master, the Judicator we shall smote the emperor of his throne and cause destruction to the gods themselves! Now follow me to the shipyards.”
“Captain, multiple enemy ships moving out of the Optumo system.”
“What? Must be the pirates in that rat-hole.” Captain Matias did not like this.
“No sir, multiple battleships have been identified as chaos ships. Looks like the Pyre heading for another killing spree.”
“My Emperor, protect me. How many?”
“Well last time the Pyre struck there were three thousand of them, plus additional pirates and those foul daemons. I’m guessing they would have around one hundred ships and there is no telling how many pirates joined this time.”
“Mobilize the chapter, warn all nearby systems. Contact any other Astartes, as many as possible. I do not want this to become the Gorvan Massacre!” Then Matias took a sigh. “We’ll try to hold them. Because we are the Emperor’s Knights and we shall know no fear!” With that he left to prepare for the upcoming conflict.
A blast from the past.
A mortar shell exploded next to John as he clambered up a ladder to higher ground. They couldn’t hold the underhive from the heretics. All around Gorva cults worshipping Chaos sprung up like weeds when the traitors struck. Chaos warriors dropped from the heavens to lay waste to Gorva. There were hundreds of the metal armoured warriors.
The PDF tried to contain them in their landing zones but they were too strong. When they pushed back the PDF far enough they set up an untold amount of fortifications where they landed. Any attempts to dig them out just meant more casualties.
So they pulled all forces back to the hives. Bombardment began as shells ripped walls and streets apart in full salvoes. John was lucky until now. He was fighting in the underhive when it happened.
As it so happened, cultists infiltrated every part of the city from the sewers so the PDF sent some men to rout them out. John at this time was a conscript: A white line on his helmet showed others that he was a beginner of the war machine. When they were overwhelmed they retreated back to the upper levels where the bombs rained down death.
The planet called out for help but no one came. They were left on their own. Stuck on two fronts and almost outnumbered John had to survive on his own with his squad. Dmitri his brother was also in the regiment.
Twelve days later the Iron Warriors were closer to the walls and kept bombardment while cultists emerged from the sewers to try their luck at the guardsmen. Still no help. John began to question his faith in the emperor. Where were the angels of death that the governor promised? They lied to him, his brother, and his company.
Then he got back to reality. Another shell tore the wall behind him down. He sprinted to the other side. His brother tried to catch up. Iron Warriors piled in through the gap in the wall.
One spotted Dmitri. A wicked blade came out of his armour and he ran after John’s brother. John stood horrified as he watched the warped marine. How could something so big and clunky run so fast?
He yelled out. “Dmitri!” Too late… The blade punctured through his back then was thrust upwards breaking his body apart. John’s mouth dropped as he saw his brother fall. He couldn’t believe it. It was the Emperor’s fault! If he sent the angels of death then this would be over! His brother would not be dead and he would be relaxing under the native trees.
But the emperor didn’t care! Billions of people who live their lives for him. And he didn’t care! John ran towards the killer and pounced on his neck. He bit into a exposed piece of flesh. The marine dropped. The others who followed just watched John wallow there. They didn’t kill him for some reason. But he wanted to die.
“Kill me!” And he ran towards them only to be knocked out.”
John, or Janus as Eversio now called him glanced up at the largest spiral staircase he had ever seen. Cobbled in black brimstone it stretched up towards the surface. All around were massive fire pits. He swore that he had saw figures dancing in the flames. The heat was intense and it even made Janus sweat.
The walls were nowhere to be seen. It was like he was in a giant boiler room.
He followed Eversio and four others up the spiral staircase. Painted on the floor were flames that seemed to writhe as the marines passed by. After every hundredth step another floor revealed itself. Some were giant hallways filled with doors others were like the basement.
After what seemed decades passing unending floors Janus finally reached the surface to find himself on a giant rampart. In the distance he could see an ocean of lava and a similar looking ocean of all the marines of the Pyre. All around him were vast towers and elaborate bunker emplacements, all around the Castle were black mountains. Janus realized that the fort must have been dug from the mountains and all those hallways must lead into them somehow.
But he was lead on to the rest of the legion and he started walking down the gargantuan staircase that lead to the shipyards.
Meanwhile next Optumo III the Emperor’s Knights chapter of space marines waited for the emerging Pyre. Chaplains gave blessing and speeches and each brother made gave a prayer to the emperor. They knew they were going to their doom but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they let enough time for any sort of defence for nearby systems.
Commander Geyrus stood on the command deck of the chapter’s flagship and monastery: ‘The Emperor’s Sword.’ Behind him were countless servitors and tactical specialists who crowded diagram tables of the surrounding area trying to deem what would be the best course of action.
“Sir, we have identified that there will be at least 150 ships, or 200.” The serf then walked back to one of the diagrams that popped out of a table. He was the only space marine on the command deck. Everyone else was either a serf or a servitor. It was the same for the battle barges and cruisers as well.
All the others were either manning thunderhawk gunship or the one-man fighters ready to leave the launch bay. Others were set in assault boats and the terminators were put near the teleporters ready to be sent to the traitor ships.
From the reports most of the traitor ships would be the native pirates of Optumo. But 50 or so would be of the Pyre. He took a final glance towards the stars then he set off to the armoury to prepare.
Engines roared and jets ignited as every Pyre ship took off from Optumo V. Unlike the older chaos legions the Pyre were still using their old ships from when they were loyal. There were 5 battle barges with 26 cruisers and 16 escorts in the fleet. Janus was put in the cruiser named ‘The Second Defilement.’ Each company was given 14 ships to take to battle. Strangely enough, Janus was feeling certain resentment towards the other companies.
Putting his disgust aside he stood and inspected the dreadclaw assault pod he would accommodate. It was riddled with spikes and underneath it was a circular shaped cut with the eight-pointed star of chaos engraved on it. There were 10 others that littered the flight deck. He, and 9 would be fighting today and he was anxious to prove himself to the gods. He knew he could trust them. He did not know why the Imperium would spread such lies about chaos like they did. It was obvious that it had power.
Flames ignited from the floor, warning him to enter the assault pod. He liked chaos. It was so…unique.
“Traitors off the starboard bow.” A serf yelled to the commander.
“Turn and face the corrupted.” He shouted back.
“ Turn ship 90° starboard.” The commander was ready for the other fleet. He was expecting more ships but it turned out the Pyre had less ships than expected.
“Fire all available weaponry!” Dozens of torpedoes and laser barrages were sent flying through space towards the chaos fleet.
“And so it begins.”
A pirate ship blew up next to ‘The Second Defilement’ as torpedoes hit it. All of the pirates began to speed ahead of the main fleet to block fire away from the marines.
Janus did not see the explosions but he could hear distant rumbles. He stared out of the large window that extended on the right side of the ship.
The ship started to shake. It must have been hit. But it kept going. As he looked out he saw some ships gaining altitude then remarking that his was doing the same. Every ship doing so had the emblem of the fourth company. A burning crusader’s mask, similar to Eversio’s helmet.
Some ships fired back their weapons and fighter decks were being readied.
Janus quickly entered his dreadclaw and closed the hatch on it. Inside he looked at his squad and then sharpened his mohawk on his crest. He cocked his gun and ckecked the fuel on his flamer and then he sat, brooding on how he should kill his enemies.
The cruiser sped up. He knew it was almost time to drop.
“Uh, sir?”
“What!?” Captain Matias was on deck when the fleet attacked. He was a little frustrated that the torpedo barrage barely did anything!
“They’re flying above us. What should we do?”
“Blast them with the emperor’s guns! Why would they set themselves up like this?” Then the captain realized that his cruiser was in grave peril. “Turn the bow port side! Get turrets up and running!”
Then the pods blew out of the chaos cruiser and down towards his ship.
Janus felt the G-force on himself as the dreadclaw was dropped out of the cruiser. He looked out a tiny slit of a window and saw the other dreadclaws doing the same. But some were getting shot at by turrets.
A torpedo was shot up from the cruiser and hit a pod dead on. It exploded into a giant flaming wreckage that continued to descend towards the cruiser.
He saw the cruiser upcoming and readied himself for the drop. But something was wrong: the cruiser was turning and the dreadclaw would be close to missing.
The pod smashed into the very side of the loyalist cruiser. It ripped open a large streak. The pod managed to stay embedded into the ship but Janus gripped onto the edge of the pierced pod just in case. The pod blew open and everyone inside was sucked away by the vacuum of space, Janus managed to hold on to the side of the opening. Debris was being pulled out of the ship into space. He saw bodies of space marines and of the servitors that guided the systems and then he looked into space seeing three assault pods completely missing the cruiser and heading straight down for the planet, the other five seemed to make their mark.
He climbed in inch by inch with his sharpened gauntlets. A space marine flew by trying to shoot him but having the bolts arching away into the hole. Then a wall smothered the hole and gravity was restored.
Janus pulled out his bolter and eagerly ran into the nearest room.
“We have boarders inside sir.” The serf looked worried. Matias stared out to space.
“Get all available men on board to the chokepoints. Matias drew his sword and departed the command deck. When the door opened squad Toturas greeted him.
“What do we do captain?” Sergeant Lex stood with a face of ill contempt.
“We take the fight to them! The serfs have blockaded the hallways, now we just need to clear them out of the ships.” They were about to leave before a serf ran out of the command deck.
“Sir, they’re heading for the fuel room!” He paused, “If they blow the fuel reactor up then we’ll all be dead!” Matias stood contemplating the situation.
“Then with all haste! To the fuel room!” And they charged out to meet their warped brothers.
Janus rushed in to the room flamer ready. As he stepped in bolter fire met him at the doorway. A couple of surfs were defending the room.
Rapidly he ran towards the first one. The surf shot at him with his bolter but the bolts bounced harmlessly of his power armour.
“Ha!” He roared triumphantly while thinking in his mind, not even their holy bolters can pierce me! He spoke to soon as one got under his arm. Pain flared up as a miniscule explosion almost tore his arm down the joint. He roared at the surf that started to back up. He would give them no chance for retreat. He opened up his flamer and burned one alive and as he met the next one he batted his bolter from his arms and they locked arms. Surprisingly strong the surf held the position.
Janus started to nod his head. The mohawk started to rip apart the chest of the defender. Then a quick punch to the fast with his gauntlet the surf was out of commission. Janus turned the flamer on the body leaving it to cook as he left.
Matias entered hallway 221 to find the bodies of fifteen surfs. “Emperor protect them.” He kept on looking and saw the body of a Pyre marine. “At least they took one of those traitors with them.” He paused, “Come on brothers, let’s get to that fuel room fast!”
As they rushed down the hall towards the elevator they found it broken, it coils cut. “Is there another way around to the room?”
“There is only one…the holy stairs of doom.” Each marine looked to the door next to the elevator.
“Come on brothers, we need courage in this dire time.” And they began to descend the stairs watching warily.
The battle outside was raging as ships faced each other and bombarded enemy vessels. The space above the planet was littered with lasers and torpedoes being fired from ships on both sides. Wrecks were a plain sight, though most were pirate ships.
The Pyre’s second company still had their ships above everyone else. Launching boarders onto the vulnerable top of the loyalist ships. Unfortunately for the Pyre more Imperial vessels arrived and the battle reached greater proportions.
An imperial ship flew parallel against one of the Pyre’s ships, sending out assault boats only for Hellblade fighters to destroy each one. Casualties started to mount for the Pyre and Hann Figurus was prepared to do something drastic to win the day.
Janus located the hangar of the cruiser to find a squad of Pyre marines fighting fresh Imperial Guardsmen from Imperial ships landing their transports in the hangar. More were coming out. As much as he wanted glory for himself he needed the other squad. He turned to find an autocannon turret. He hopped on, turned it on and let it fire at the transport. It exploded in a great blast. The remaining guardsmen had no chance against the cross fire from the turret and the remaining chaos squad.
“Ah, new recruit Janus.” Firebras the sergeant greeted him, “You make great destruction! Come with us to make more.” Then he looked outside to space from the hangar doors. “They’ll probably land another transport in here. Urimas, man the turret.” He ordered and Urimas reluctantly obeyed. “Now let ourselves receive glory from chaos by glorious annihilation of the Loyalists!”
And with that those skulls with flames appeared out of thin air and flooded through the doors.
Golmoin set the blast charges on the fuel container. It would be remote detonated by him when he was a safe distance away. Or if he would somehow be killed it would detonate and tear the ship apart. Facing virtually no resistance in the cruiser he was surprised when ten Astartes came out of the doorway leading from the stairs. They each held their bolters in one hand as they held a gleaming sword in the other. Easy pickings he thought.
“Hurry up you fools!” Firebras barked at the other marines, “Our slow brothers have been pinned down in the fuel room!” With that the squad picked their walk to a run while burning and melting anything in their way. Surf blockades were destroyed and the occasional marine was found and torched.
John began to smile underneath his helmet. The Imperium is weak and was his to destroy.
Gunter was a serf of the Emperor’s Knights. And now he was regretting it. Dozens of flaming skulls flooded the command deck. There were so many that you didn’t need to aim to hit them. They came in through the doors, vents and some even appeared from thin air. Slowly each surf and marine was drowned by the infernal daemons. Soon he was the only one left.
He stood erect, giving a prayer to the emperor. He just hoped the chapter would lend enough time to the worlds under attack by the Pyre.
Two other chaotic marines were plugged with bolts as the Matias and his brothers charged into the fray. His blade decapitated another. The rest huddled behind pipelines and crates.
But he didn’t expect getting shot from behind. A flame enveloped brother Quintas as Matias turned around. An Arch-Vile, as the Imperium called them, stalked out of the doorway. It clapped its hands above its head. Matias tore into it with bolter rounds but it was too late. Rorias melted onto the floor. This was truly becoming a nightmare.
The door smashed open. Janus and Firebras’ squad ran into the fuel room. They appeared behind their own legionnaires. Firebras’ squad took the left side as Janus took the remaining of Golmoin’s squad while Golmoin himself stayed behind to safeguard the detonator and himself.
Bolter fire erupted from both sides. No one fell to the bullets but swords and power fists were charged and drawn as the two enemies closed the distance.
Janus grabbed a loyalist and threw him back towards his squadmates. Another was impaled on the daemonic weapon of Firebras. Soon the Pyre furiously slaughtered each one. Several flaming bodies littered the floor and only Captain Matias remained.
Hlotar tried to slash him across the chest only to meet the captain’s sword in the face. Then Firebras stepped into fray. They danced a duel of blades, neither gaining any ground. But Firebras’ ferocity was beginning to wear out. And Matias maimed him. In his last effort he slashed off Matias’ leg.
Matias fell to the floor. Janus stepped up to him. He opened his flamer on him. But he wasn’t dead. He picked him up and dragged him to the reactor. Golmoin walked by and spat on Matias.
Janus retrieved both swords and stood next to Golmoin and Matias. The chaos infested blade he stuck into Matias. He howled in pain, ready to die. Golmoin smiled.
“Go ahead, put the other one in.” But Janus thrust it through Golmoin’s chest and brang it up his chest.
“Coward!” And Janus spat on the pained form of Golmoin. He kicked him down next to Matias. All the rest left to evacuate the cruiser.
Their thunderhawk gunship left the ship right before it exploded. It landed in the 4th Company’s battle barge “La Renard” and Janus stepped out of it just in time to see the cruiser he spent the last hour or so crash into the fortress monastery of the loyalist chapter. The impact crippled ship systems and the fortress monastery started to descend towards the planet.
Eversio will be pround! Janus thought to himself. When he arrived Eversio’s second in command, Molbav Rentrus, greeted him with one of the dwarf like men. Since Golmoin and Firebras were dead and the remainders of the two squads numbering ten he was to lead them and was promoted to sergeant or rector in the ranking system of the Pyre.
The dwarf branded a miniature symbol of a flame. It seemed to writhe as he moved. He gleamed with pride. After his first mission he was promoted! Surely the gods have something in store for him.
“Destruction’s Child” fired another ordnance barrage at the fortress monastery of the Emperor’s Knights, effectively destroying it after it collision with the cruiser.
Hann Figurus watched on as fighter planes fought on.
They had almost won, albeit at the cost of at least 500 marines, 9 ships and most of their piratical allies. But leaderless the enemy space marines were starting to fall apart and reinforcements from the Imperial Navy were all but spent in this sector.
Only 5 loyalist ships remained and their hulls were bruised and beaten. Bombing runs crippled another and a salvo of torpedoes blew another one apart.
“Hold Fire!” Hann Figurus yelled into the comm channel. One ship was starting to retreat. Voices on the communications flared up yelling their protest. A large screen popped up in front of Hann.
All four praetors appeared on it, their faces screened by shadow. Hakrath Ignifer of the first company was the first to speak.
“Judicator it’s getting away, it will send for reinforcements, besides, I want to see it wrecked!” Liber Incendia of the third then spoke.
“Honorary master, why let it go?”
Hann sighed.
“Because my praetors, I want this to be part of history. That ship will record this as a great loss! It’s protocol. I want to put us on the priority sheets of the Imperium. Too long have we have been ignored since Gorva. No longer! In the campaign soon to come we shall deserve the terror chaos truly deserves!” he paused, “Now Praetors, shoot down the two that dare stand in my way!”
“In a room of black brimstone Hann sat atop a throne of black metal as he stared down his three Praetors. They argued amongst themselves to receive his favour. Eversio Occasus boldly spoke.
“Of course my grand fourth company that crippled their monastery! And our hits created the biggest explosions we have seen in a long time!” Then argument broke out between the four. Meznilban Torreo covered in his terminator armour, the Praetor of the second barked about.
“But the ‘second’ company who took out the most ships and my terminators killed the most of their officers!”
“Silence!” Hann Figurus rarely needed to yell and when he did each praetor shut up and immediately bowed to him. “It was the day of the fourth company today. And to you Eversio I give the blessing of chaotic destruction upon you. Now Praetor bring me your new found recruit Janus Dolezalek, he has proven himself worthy of my presence.”
“Yes my master.” And with that they all left.
And Janus had thought he had done well. After being promoted he was stuffed in a cage and carried into a thunderhawk gunship by two fourth company terminators. The ship left the hangar of “Le Renard” and landed in another one inside the battle barge “Destruction’s Child.” He was carried all through out the ship where it seems most of the Pyre had gathered.
Marines and daemons alike threw what they could at Janus. He even felt the bolts of bolters hit him screaming in pain only to have the casings threw at him. They hollered and roared as he came by. Framing him for something he couldn’t remember doing. He didn’t feel so invincible anymore but bruised and beaten.
After being led through command deck he was brought to a set of black iron doors. Two terminators pulled the two heavy doors open and he was carried inside. After being dropped he looked up to see the black helmet of Hann Figurus sitting idle on a shelf.
Then two curved horns appeared behind it. Black gauntlets grabbed and soon it was on the head of the judicator himself. Janus stared in awe as he quickly knelt to the floor.
“Rise Rector Janus.” The walls seemed to burst open at his words. Janus timidly got up. He had never felt this amount of terror. Hann stepped up to the balcony of the room. Black clad armour covered every opening and his helmet masked his face. All that could be seen were those fiery eyes of malice. A cloak of flames hung from his back and his two horns seemed to curve directly at Janus. Janus wanted to step back and run but he was held in place.
“Do not worry about your brothers. That was just an initiation.” He suddenly turned casual. “Moving on, you have shown to be a promising member of my legion.”
“Have I, oh lord?” Janus didn’t know how to speak to one such as him.
“Eversio has agreed to let you and your newly formed squad and three others from the other companies to go on a certain mission for me.” He paused, “Expect to die!”
Janus had been ready to leave ever since he left Hann’s room. His squad and the three others were gathered in the hangar. Janus looked out into space to see the ship they would commandeer for the mission. So far he didn’t know what he was doing but he would be briefed on the escort ship he would be on soon.
He looked at his men. They looked like a bunch of rag tags compared to the other marines. Janus didn’t mind that. After all, most of the fourth company looked like that.
He looked over to the other Rectors. Each company seemed to stand out from one another. The first seemed very independent, to a point where they spat at their comrades if they offered help. The second were not terminators but they seemed to armour themselves like they were. Every plate of power armour was covered with even more and their faces were covered with so much bulk Janus wondered how they could walk straight, nevertheless fight and run. The third had two members that carried multiple meltas, flamers and the one plasma gun. They carried no close combat weapons or such, but their eyes were covered in an assortment of eyepieces and machinery.
They all stepped into their respective gunships and left off for the escort.
Janus exited the thunderhawk and walked upon the escort’s hangar bay. It was smaller than any he had been in. The four gunships left no room for other spacecraft other than one hellblade fighter.
Two Arch-Viles came out of a doorway on the opposite side from their location. They pointed their overgrown hands to step inside. All of the marines did so, knowing full well how much of a match these daemons could be.
They were led up a spiral staircase of black steel and more daemons revealed themselves to the power armoured men. Lost Souls flitted down corridors and through vents. Some flew around the marines and circled their heads. Even for battle-hardened marines it was an eerie sight.
They were finally led into the command deck by a group of arch-viles. The door silently opened and inside the room was darkness. Suddenly lights flashed on as they entered. Stakes with impaled beings were erected in the corners of the room. Twisting runes of chaos adorned them. Circles with the eight-pointed star of chaos were drawn on the floor surrounding the poles.
An arch-vile materialized inside a circle and a group of lost souls appeared in the one next to it. They left the room without even looking at the marines. In the middle of the room was a stooped man wreathed in flame and black armour.
“You’re late.” He spoke in a serpent’s tongue. “I am Burjkhal. Ex-Librarian of the Pyre.” He inspected each one with jet black eyes. “I suppose you want to know what you’re here for.” Janus could not see any body features on the sorcerer except for his head and his pale fingers. But he knew not to trifle with this man, so did the rest of the group.
“I’m setting down some rules for you first.” He paused and began to inspect one of the poles. He tapped it and red energy erupted from it as lost souls blew out of it by the second.
“First, you shall refer to me as ‘the augurer’.”
“Second, you are under my command now. You answer to me before anyone! Even the Judicator.”
“Third, Touch my minions and I shall hang your intestines on the wall while your body dangles over the side of the ship!”
“Last but not least, the rector who does the most for the gods will be promoted to Oligarch.” He walked towards the doorway and beckoned the rest to follow. The walls and floors themselves held faces that moaned and twisted over each other. A hand tried to grab the augurer but was singed and flames spread across the floor.
The briefing room had nothing special about it. An ancient holo imager sat in the middle and seats that could fit terminators surrounded it.
“This task that you shall proceed in doing is one of Hann Figurus’s most high priority jobs he will want the legion to do. The object is simple. Clear the area of enemies and escort myself to this location.” A Screen flared up and a map of a fort like object appeared. A charred finger pointed towards the center where a large black dot marked it.
“Most of you will die and in 50 years replaced as usual. Do not think this as simple. The fortress is held by the Emperor’s Children chaos legion and their daemonettes. It is located within the eye of terror so be prepared to face an unending tide.” All the marines were somewhat fazed by this. In the warp daemons could appear out of nowhere in hordes or do strange things that they couldn’t do in the world of reality.
“After securing the courtyard, hold it for as long as I need you to.” This will be all.” And they all left grimly satisfied.
It had felt like days since they entered the eye of terror. Nothing had happened on their trip. They just sat, looking out into the warp. The gods paid them no heed, and they continued on.
They were ready to prove themselves. Each wanted two things, to gain glory for their company and gain glory for themselves. Janus looked at his squad once more. Each one had a bolter except for Hajkuk and Ythror who both carried flamers. He had seen each one fight before. It had been nothing special but now they had a chance to prove themselves in his eyes.
There was nothing but silence in the cruiser. Each Pyre associate just sat on the command deck and stared outside the windows. The augurer tended to his icons of chaos and daemons continued to materialize in the circles underneath.
Then suddenly a high-pitched scream erupted from the vox casters of the ship. The entire Pyre grabbed their earpieces. The sound was unbearable but alluring at the same time. The only one who withstood it was the augurer. With a stroke of his hand he banished the noise from the vox system.
“Get up!” He yelled to everyone. Suddenly daemons and pink coloured marines appeared as if out of thin air onto the deck and immediately the Pyre was hard pressed. A daemonette slashed a fellow through the ribs then was shredded by bolter fire. The third company’s squad held an elevated position on the balcony firing down their weapons on any who approached. Janus picked up his bolter and fired into a group of the pink coloured warriors. One fell but the others charged his squad. The second and first companies were already in the thick of combat with the enemy, losing one of their own but taking one with them. More daemonettes kept on appearing in front of Janus. He didn’t think they could keep this up. The doors burst open arch-viles and lost souls flooded the deck. Daemonettes were incinerated and chewed while their marine counterparts were outnumbered.
A ghostly rock appeared in front of the ship and the augerer directed a servitor to land. The ship screeched along the rock taking down buildings and monuments to Slaanesh.
“Get out!” He ordered the marines as they fought their way through the ship towards the landing bay. A horde of fiery daemons greeted them. The blast doors opened and incoming fire hit the room. All the daemons exited, providing valuable cover for the marines that followed.
When they looked up the skies of the ether were dotted with millions of daemons of both sides, constantly appearing and fighting their enemies. Burjkhal pointed towards a staricase rising from the middle of fort.
The second company squad roared and charged into combat clearing a path through the daemonic tide. An overgrown spawn toppled into one then was cleaved in two by Ajax the rector of the squad. For some reason the first company squad cut their own path towards a set of buildings that also led towards the staircase. Janus ordered his squad to split up to follow each different squad as he himself took another way towards the staircase by jumping a flight of stairs and running up and down a causeway. The third’s squad stayed to guard the ship. They’re weapons capable of rending apart anything.
Janus smiled as he saw more pink marines run towards him in the causeway. Tentacles sprouted from the walls and daeomons appeared on both sides. Then arch-viles and lost souls backed him up and he ran straight for the enemy, bolter spraying death at his foes.