The Valiant B*astards

[ToberiousTheValiant]

I need to work on it a little (kinds redundant at times). I hope I got all of the swears out (I may have missed one or two). Tell me what you think.

 

THE VALIANT B*stards

 

Chapter Leader: Toberious Antony

 

Description: While extremely loyal to the Imperium they have their own ideas when it comes to service. They will do exactly as the Emperor says and as the Codex indoctrinates. Luckily, if a single order is a bit vague they will do what they seem fit.

It is not uncommon for The Valiant B*stards to be wreck-less and fairly irresponsible in their tactics, yet effective in their maneuvers. They are highly trained in straight combat, being able to take on hordes of Orks or Nids without as much as breaking a sweat. At assault range they are slightly less effective, yet brutal as a Marine can come.

Their favored attack method is that of the Drop Pod. “The best way to infiltrate an enemy compound is by crash landing into it.” Says Chaplin Toberious Antony. “We will find a way to win at the expense of stealth”.

“That’s just not how we roll.” says Lieutenant Amarka Ross.

 

Chapter Master: Toberious Antony

Chapter Captain: Ignious Seripus

Lieutenant: Amarka Ross

Sergeant (in charge of Tactical): Roswell Harod

Sergeant (in charge of Scouts): Gregory Thane

 

Pious/ Dutiful

 

“I don’t give a S*** what His right hand man said: We got the job done!”. The heavy sigh of Toberious’s breath echoed in The Great Halls. “And as far as I’m concerned, he should be kissing our blood soaked boots!”.

“He means no disrespect, Sir.” Says the skittish Librarian who follows Toberious’s steps closely. “But you simply were far too irresponsible for the Codex’s Doctrines.” He tensed his face, preparing for the verbal beating he was sure to receive.

“’Carry the Emperors will as your torch‘! ‘Faith without deeds is worthless‘! We follow Duty and Faith without question and yet His right-hand man has the nerve to tell us we are irresponsible? Not a single man from my Chapter died in that raid!” He slams his fist on a nearby pillar leaving a visible crater in the marble surface.

“It’s not your results that are in question… it’s…” The Librarian hesitates.

“It’s what?!” Toberious’s face grows stern yet with a pondering that would rival the Eldar.

“Well… the fact you crash landed a Drop Pod into the Ork compound and damaged Imperium Property.” His face tenses more as if to be ready for a lashing.

Toberious stops in his tracks and looks to the ground. “Perhaps it was irresponsible of me to do that to the Emperors equipment… after all… ‘Honor thy Wargear’.”

The Librarian relaxes and looks up to his superior in minor amazement. “W-w-what?”

“’Honor thy Wargear‘”. He repeats.

“E-e-exactly. Shall I tell the Emperor you apologize?” The Librarian looks hopeful and excited.

“But…” Toberious pauses and looks to the Librarian, soft and kind in his face. A smile rises from his scarred lips. “’Zeal is its own excuse‘.”

 

Chaos on the Field

 

“Cover fire!” The rapid popping of the Bolters echoed against the canyon walls making them sound louder than normal. Frag and Krak missiles zipped over the heads of The Valiant B*stards detonating on nearby cliff walls raining rubble and boulders down on the Ork squad below. Boyz and Nobz let out a loud war cry as the large chunks of limestone crush them under their immense size.

Sergeant Roswell Harod and his squad of Tactical Marines ducked and ran for the nearest pile of rubble to use as cover. He dives last second and goes flush with the boulders. The others from his squad soon follow suit. Roswell blindly tosses a frag grenade behind him into the grinder of Orks positioned behind him. A loud Orkish scream bellows then gets cut short as its replaced with a loud boom and a drizzle of limestone on surrounding rocks and power armor.

Black Splinter Canyon was known as a very important strategic location, but unfortunately Orks had occupied the area making transport to nearby fortifications fairly difficult. This was an important battle. And who better to send?

Roswell’s comlink chirped in “Sir, we have a problem!”. It was Sergeant Gregory Thane, in charge of the Scouts that accompanied the Tactical squad. Their snipers would be invaluable for recon and picking off the more cunning Orks (if they even existed).

He pushed the open frequency button on his link. “And what would that be?” He asked as a flamer sprayed above the heads of his squad.

“Remember how we said that the Orks wouldn’t be able to navigate the canyon with a non-hovering vehicle?” A few sniper shots rang out through the communicator. “Apparently they are a little more gutsy then we expected. There is a truck heading to your position. We’re trying to pick it off but they are going far to fast and what seems like intentionally hitting whatever looks like they can ramp off of.” More sniper blasts ring though the receiver.

“Understood.” He peeks around the edge of the cropping of rubble that’s starting to give way to the constant fire its received. Sure enough, a truck was heading right his way. Its blood red paint job being either actual paint or the blood of whoever got in the way. “Marines! Lets do this S***!!” He and his squad of 5 expose themselves for a brief moment to unleash a hail of bullets at any non-human they see.

After that wall of bolter bullets take out a little squad of Boyz, Roswell signals to one of his men for one of the big guns. He attaches it to his shoulder and pops from behind his cover and lets the frag missile off in the direction of the truck. The missile screams forward crashing into the ground ahead of the speeding vehicle. It continues barreling through the small crater and dust the blast created.

A quick reload later he fires another off. A trail of smoke behind the rocket. The truck flips forward as the projectile slams into its front fender. Sending Orks flying out the exposed bed going in all directions. Unfortunately, momentum is a harsh mistress. The sound of scrap metal being crushed like a tin can emanated in everyone ears as the truck slide forward on its cabin eventually grinding to a halt.

A tense moment was had as the dust was settling around the capsized cruiser. Soon the hull could be seen of the junker. There was no movement. A cheer rang out though the canyon amidst the carnage further ahead, sure that the battle was theirs.

Suddenly, the very unfriendly sound of metal being rended cracked in their ears. The front of the truck was tossed to the side like a discarded can. Behind the hood stood a hulking, green skinned, minorly cybernetic, screaming Ork. His teeth filed into a sharp point. Both his hands encased in ramshackle claws with a very basic armor plating covering vital areas.

He lets out another guttural scream and charges forward full force.

“S***…”

 

R&R

 

While most of the other Chapters have Home bases on other planets or a Headquarters in one way or another, The Valiant B*stards prefer their fleet of ships. Most notable is the flagship Judge. Jury. Executioner. It is home to Toberious Antony and his most trusted, well trained administrators. Its massive size easily accommodates the several thousand B*stards within his air tight hull.

Some of the benefits of being on board such a great vessel includes a tremendous alcohol supply, rec rooms and numerous training facilities. Each member on board has his specific job that must be carried out (no matter how long it will take) before he is given his day of R&R. Fortunately, there are plenty of crew members aboard to fill in even the most mundane of tasks (usually scrubbing the many hundreds of latrines).

Currently, the Judge. Jury. Executioner is hovering above the Grey Wolves Chapter Planet of Fenris. While the Grey Wolves don’t follow the Codex Astartes, favoring their own Teachings, The Valiant B*stards feel a kin to their wild, and fierce brethren, having stood beside them many times against Xeno attacks. Once Toberious was given an honorable song written by The Grey Wolves bards entitled “Let us trudge through their bowels to get to their heart”.

In this particular instance the B*stards were accompanied by a squad of Grey Wolves on a two day leave permit for their honorable dispatching of a Chaos Daemon ambush. Without their helmets and wearing only their matted silver power armor their faces were unkempt and scruffy. The most notable was their Sergeant Horus Hadradra. His beard sagged well below his chest emblem of a wolf skull with angel wings on either side. While the armor was dirty and tarnished, the emblem shined like it was fresh out of the forge.

Horus sat at the counter of the bar drinking a thick black liquor. No ice. His other men were engaging in other random activities such as Arm Wrestling, Drinking Contests, a friendly game of what would be considered “pool” on some planets (albeit with heavier cues and billiards due to the standard marines enormous strength) and the Grey Wolf favorite (as well as Valiant Bastard favorite) the Beard Off. None challenged Horus Hadradra.

The door to the bar slid open with a hiss. “Officer on deck!” said the “bouncer” heavily clad in Terminator Armor. All Marines stopped what they were doing to salute. Right arm across their chest over their heart, fisted hands. A venerable universal salute/ greeting.

“At ease. Back to what you were doing.” Says Toberious in his deep, commanding voice. He walks towards the sergeant and rests his right hand on Horus’s left shoulder and he does the same. They look each other in the eye for a moment and let out an excited battle cry. Soon the others follow suit and the whole bar is full of cheering and the sound of glasses breaking… as well as other objects around the bar. This was Toberious and Horus’s favorite activity: Post Victory Bar Fight.