Death in the Jungle

[StratoKhan]

Enmeshed in a complex tangle of thorny vines, Brother Akruk had remained perfectly still for hours in the same spot of undergrowth. He was dimly aware that such a position would have been impossible even for the most accomplished trackers of his birth-tribe, but his augmented musculature felt little pain or discomfort. He was almost amazed by how much he had changed in the last century. He was mightier than even the most reknowned heroes of his warrior tribe, and capable of acts of great stamina. His power armour too made even the hardest tasks easier to accomplish, and for this campaign it had been modified to use only the smallest amounts of energy when still, and consequently it made barely a sound, while its form was shrouded by the thick foliage and shadows so well that none but the canniest of woodsmen would have been able to spot it or the marine occupying the ceramite form. Nevertheless, Akruk knew full well that such precautions would never serve as truly effective concealment from his current foe, who shared only the vaguest resemblance to a man. It did not matter to Akruk, for he understood that even such half-measures had an important part to play in this trap. The dense mass of alien foliage swayed around him, its hallucinogenic leaves grasping at any creature too small or weak to escape its grip. The corpses of unfortunate planetary defence troopers littered the clearing, the smell of their decomposing bodies a stark reminder of the mortality of the human race. Amongst them, eight power-armoured bodies lay scattered in the clearing that opened up before Akruk, their bodies still unclaimed by the vampiric vines that carpeted the jungle floor, weapons still gripped tightly in slack hands. The sight of so many fellow Marines lying motionless on the jungle floor was not a welcome one to the veteran battle brother, and to purge it from his mind he allowed himself a moment to contemplate his surroundings.

 

This was one of the thickest jungles of Xaben Prime, the one that the locals called The Dark Hell, and having lived inside it for several weeks, he fully agreed. The monumental scale of the inhospitable rainforest made it seem like there was no sky beyond it, although in fact it was simply that the dense canopy reached far towards the heavens, borne aloft on enormous purple and green trunks that pulsated slowly to some unknown rhythm. The countless spindly primates that survived by tapping the yellowish sap from these jungle titans would occasionally inflate their throat sacs and emit piercing, whooping calls. To Akruk's right a torrent of steaming water poured from a craggy cliff face. The magnetic rocks that it was composed of dissipated the waves of most scanners, human or alien alike. Insects and bird-analogues frantically darted through the many shafts of light that pierced the canopy and provided the jungle floor's only illumination. In Akruk's mind the shafts of light combined with the column-like appearance of the mighty sap-tree trunks to conjure memories of the Chapter's blessed fortress monastery on Sidon. That was a sight that Akruk and the rest of the Fifth and Sixth Companies had not seen for over a year.

 

The Flaming Swords battle-barge Blade of Sorrow and its supporting craft had been returning to Sidon and its mighty fortress-monastery after the succesful pacification of the Taagen System when they had picked up Xaben colony's distress signal on long-range scanners. The choice for Captain Agathon had been clear, and now two companies of Flaming Swords Space Marines found themselves embroiled in a vicious struggle with a taskforce of blasphemous Eldar marauders. Xaben's meagre planetary defence forces had been all but decimated by the vastly superior eldar forces, but the arrival of the Adeptus Astartes had tipped the balance in favour of the Imperium, driving the eldar base of operations deep into the labyrinthine equatorial jungles. Meanwhile, in the skies overhead, the human and alien fleets played a tense game of cat and mouse, neither powerful enough to decisively engage the other. Flushing the Eldar from their jungle bolt-holes was no simple matter however, and Akruk and his fellow battle brothers had learnt just how deadly their enemy could be when cornered. The inert forms before Akruk all bore an array of grievous marks left by the vile alien weaponry.

 

The sudden agitation high up in the canopy brought Akruk back to his current reality. A fleeing flock of razorwings swooped down, their delicate hearing apparatus obviously disturbed by something. Akruk's soon heard the ominous whine that had startled the alien beasts, and he barely had time to heft his bolter when a red and black eldar skimmer tore through the canopy at meteoroic speed, its sophisticated engines barely coming under strain as it plummeted towards the jungle floor. The alien gunner had opened fire as soon as the Vyper Jetbike had broken through the canopy, fully aware of the Marine's position. However. the sheer vertical drop must have taken its toll on the crewman's aim however, for his initial burst of fire flew wide, missing Akruk completely, while around him razor-sharp discs sliced through stupefied sap-monkeys and multihued trunks, sending great gouts of sap and blood arcing through the air. Akruk returned fire with his boltgun, but the armour and speed of the alien craft mitigated any damage he might have hoped to cause. A mere few instants had passed, yet Brother Akruk's enhanced senses had allowed him to use every moment effectively. The Vyper was halfway to the jungle floor, and it was time to ensure its demise. A tap on the detonator hidden by his side burst a nearby tree trunk into pieces, sending great sheets of viscous sap and shards of bark into the Vyper's trajectory. The blast had been judiciously timed, for the pilot was forced to veer sharply away to avoid it, bringing him into a denser part of the jungle. For a minute it seemed as if the skimmer would crash, but with unnerring accuracy the jetbike's pilot blazed his vehicle through the only viable path that led out of the thick, tangled branches. Fortunately, the alien gunner's aim had yet again been disturbed by this latest breakneck maneuvre, and he was forced to track back towards Akruk with his weapon. For a moment the marine was was sure he could guess the Eldar's thoughts, he almost felt the dismay of the hunter, a hunter that had seen his kill snatched away at the last moment. It was a feeling these elusive Eldar had elicited in him countless times during the campaign, as they slid and ran like water through his grasp. Now however, the Vyper emerged from the dense tangle of trunks, and rapidly sped across the clearing. Knowing it almost useless in against such a craft, he nonetheless continued firing his bolter. He was outmatched, yet dying held no fear for him. He would rather die where he stood than bring dishonour to his Chapter through flight. The Eldar skimmer craft bore down on him, its gunner finally locking him in his sights. Soon the jungle would be quiet again.

 

A deafening hiss from Arkuk's right heralded the sudden arrival of a meltagun blast, and despite the skimmer's great speed the masterful shot slammed into the Vyper's jetbike cockpit, annihilating the pilot instantly and rapidly turning the entire vehicle into a blazing fireball. Its controls obliterated, the Vyper banked to its right and corkscrewed into a giant tree trunk before exploding in a searing white flash. Akruk had been knocked to his feet, vines tearing as he was flung into the clearing by the force of the blast. As he scrambled up again, he murmured his thanks to the Emperor that the jetbike's original course had eventually been diverted. Even the formidable protection afforded by his power armour would have been of scant use against such a violent conflagration, and there would not have been enough time to avoid the vehicle's intended course. He looked to his right and saw the form of Veteran Sergeant Seyoun emerging from his carefully chosen hiding place behind the steaming waterfall, his meltagun still at the ready. The cliff face had been chosen well, as even the Eldar's advanced sensors were unable to pierce the haze generated by the strange magnetic rock formations. The heat of the watefall had masked his own body's heat signatures.

 

Sergeant Kemo Seyoun looked at the blazing wreck for a few heartbeats, savouring the sight of his vanquished foe, before he rapidly climbed down the cliff side to rejoin Brother Akruk. For the ambush to work he had needed to shut down his power armour's systems completely. In that way the Eldar had not been able to detect him. Fortunately there was a way to bring the suit back online in seconds, but the Techmarines frowned upon such unorthodox procedures. Doubtless the suit's machine spirit would be displeased, but it The auto-senses however were incapable of coming online that quickly, and so he had remained helmetless under the scalding thermal waterfall for several hours. It was necessary for him to do so in order to aim without the aid of machinery or auto-senses. Even from the blurry prison of the waterfall his aim had been true, a shot any marksman would have been proud of. It would remain to be seen whether the offering of an Eldar Jetbike was not enough to placate the enigmatic machine-spirit. As he strode across the clearing the previously inert bodies of Tactical Squad Kemo from their feigned deaths. The curious mutation of Chapter's Sus-An membranes permitted them to enter and exit a death-like state at will, and it would be foolish not to use such a powerful ability to their advantage. A true warrior used all the weapons at his disposal, this was what Seyoun knew better than anything. The sight of his squad's seemingly lifeless bodies must have lulled the witch-race's soldiers into a false sense of superiority. It was truly fortunate for the Imperium that these Eldar were far more wild and impulsive than was usual in their kin, Seyoun reflected. By now the squad had reanimated itself and fanned out amongst the cover of the trunks, ready to move deeper into the jungle. He activated a communication-rune through his helmet controls.

 

"Captain Agathon, Brother Seyoun reporting. Contact established. Lion one. Commencing sweep of Area Eighty-Six."

 

"Acknowledged. Chastise the enemy for his arrogance, friend Kemo. Commence sweep pattern chapel one, sword and glove. Rendevous skull over moon. Quarry Alpha. Stay true."

 

Captain Agathon allowed himself a fleeting smile from the confines of his Land Raider command tank. The capabilities of the Vyper jetbike, as well as the other Eldar grav-craft had been carefully studied with the aid of the Chapter's exhaustive tactical records. Directly absorbing the information on their quarry through psycho-conditioning, The Flaming Swords had been able to maximise the effectiveness of their ambush. They had used the Vyper's speed and maneuverability against it, forcing the crew to submit itself to more strain than even their alien forms could withstand. The Eldar had thought their quarry cornered, only to have raced into the jaws of a careful trap. It was fitting that the arrogance of the Eldar had been turned into the Imperium's most effective weapon against them, Agathon mused. After the latest withering Eldar counter-attack key units had been pulled back in semblance of a retreat. The last few days had seen troop movements, engagements and even defeats carefully orchestrated to fool the Eldar commander. Precise Whirlwind bombardments had given the impression that the Imperials had walked into their own artillery fire while retreating, and purposefully chaotic communications had been broadcast with knowingly compromised encryption. The disdainful Eldar Autarch had never even suspected that Space Marines would be capable of such subterfuge. A large amount of Planetary Defence troops had been committed in points on the front where Agathon could count on them to break at precise moments of the fighting. The Eldar had believed they were mopping up lone survivors of broken units, while in fact all over the battle line careful ambushes had been put in. Squad Kemo was an excellent example. The Eldar's low opinion of the Space Marines after yesterday's defeat had permitted the Tactical squad to spring a perfect ambush, as they had known exactly where the skimmer would emerge from. Believing they had detected an ambush, the aliens had in fact flown to their doom. Their arrogance had killed them, a fitting end to such degenerate creatures. By now the Eldar Autarch's more mobile forward elements were being picked off one by one, and their loss would sound the end to any Eldar hopes of regaining the upper hand in this campaign. The Eldar's aerial superiority had held his Whirlwind battery in check until now, but now they could probe deeper into the Eldar lines, punishing their infantry. He only regretted the loss of so many human soldiers, but such casualties were, after all, acceptable. Had the Flaming Swords never intervened in this conflict, the entire planet's population would have been slaughtered. It was the lesser of two evils.

 

However well-executed the current counter-attack had been, Agathon was fully aware that luck had played a great part in these recent developments. The Eldar witch would never have fallen for such a ruse. She had been far too cunning and wise for that, a far superior opponent. Agathon had known this all too well, he had even looked her in the eye during the first day after the orbital drop, as the two forces massed against each other and battled for control of the spaceport. The alien and her bodyguard had raced around the corner of a crumbling Manufactorum, only to find Agathon's command squad waiting for them, their presence shrouded by Codicier Aamun's mental powers. Once the squad had been detected, the unfortunate Codicier was the first to fall, his psychic shield of little use before the considerable might of the Farseer. In less than a minute the noble pskyer's body had been turned to ash within his suit of power armour. The two units blazed away at each other, but the witch had raised a curtain of force between her men and the marines. Agathon had then felt the witch powers claw at his mind, tasted of the cool, detached hatred of the thing before him, and the terror and madness it wished to plant in his mind had lain but a thought away. Mere seconds later the venerable Ancient-Brother Khradzlo had obliterated the eldritch psyker with a burst from his assault cannon, and in so doing had almost single-handedly won the campaign. The intensity of the firefight before him, and his determination to annihilate Agathon's mind. had meant she had not noticed the dreadnought burst from the wall behind her. The powerful Dreadnought had saved his life yet again, and in doing so had placed the Flaming Swords in a position of clear superiority. Bereft of the formidable scrying powers of the eldar seer, the warrior lord that had risen to take command of the force clearly did not know how to respect his foe, and his indubitable prowess as a general was marred by his quick-tempered disdain for the human race. From what little intelligence they had been able to glean, the alien commanders had been lovers, and the death of his mate had blinded the already fiery Autarch to all risks. Unreasonable ferocity had been the hallmark of the Eldar resistance after that first engagement, yet the Space Marines had stood firm. After today, the Autarch would soon be forced to learn a new respect for his foes, but it would be too late to prevent his demise. For once the usually brilliant Eldar had proven to be unworthy foes.

 

The urgent cry of his squad sergeant turned his attention abruptly back to the present.

 

"Captain, perimeter three breached!"

 

Perimeter three was the final sensor line before his Land Raider Prometheus. Whatever enemy was now advancing on their position, they were competent infiltrators, there was no doubt about it. The Land Raider's sensor arrays finally picked up images from the small camera probes that had been deployed around the area. It was a group of Eldar Aspect warriors, their dark green insectoid armour almost blending their lithe forms into the jungle's shadows. Their helmets were equipped with powerful mandible guns, and Agathon knew from experience that the bite of these Striking Scorpions was terrible indeed. How they had managed to track him and find him so deep behind the Imperial lines was a mystery. Perhaps the Eldar had not been the only ones underestimating their foe.

 

"Take us forwards 50 metres, lay down covering fire and then the drop the front ramp."

 

As the command tank advanced, a couple of the aliens were shredded by sustained bolter fire, but the remainder simply melted into the shadows. A great blast shook the vehicle as an alien grenade found its mark. The plasma had shredded the left track.

 

"Drop the ramp!"

 

As soon as the ramp had dropped the eldar leapt from their hiding places, eager to bring battle to the Flaming Swords, their mandiblasters spitting lethal shards of death at the command squad. These troops were doubtlessly part of a last-ditch attempt to eliminate the Space Marine Captain, a suicide mission perhaps. They had to know there was no other hope for them left now. He clutched the grip of his power sword tighter. His bodyguard were ready to deliver the righteous death that their enemies deserved, and he knew they needed no encouragement. He kept his words to a minimum.

 

"Kill them all!"

 

It would be done. As he sprinted off the Land Raider's ramp he pointed his weapon at the alien leader, a powerfully built alien that was tall even for an Eldar, and advanced towards him. The ornately equipped warrior seemed more than willing to meet his challenge. In a few strides they closed range. Agathon's first swing found nothing but air, and the alien tore a deep gouge into his left shoulder pad with his cruel blade. As he reeled back from the Exarch's attack the Space Marine captain lashed out and caught the alien's helm square on with his sword's hilt, forcing the Striking Scorpion Exarch into a desperate somersault. Both lightly wounded, they paused for a second as their retinues grappled to the death. They would soon fall upon each other again, but it remained to be seen who had gained the better measure of his foe. As the jungle filled with the screams of the dying, Agathon started firing his bolt pistol at his adversary and decided that for all his previous musings, these Eldar had proven not to be such unworthy foes after all.

 

 

Ok so this is just a little bit of short fiction, I'm just playing around and seeing if I can do a decent job creating some atmosphere or not. I got a bit sloppy halfway through if I must say so. I think there's room for improvement. Let me know what you think. I might rework it later. This also helps me flesh out my Chapter. Wrote half of this on the bus home, and then a few bits last night when I couldn't sleep. Hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I've missed out any parts by mistake, I haven't proofread it as exhaustively as I normally do because I'm supposed to be packing for a big move. I'm quite sure there's grammatical mistakes and some of the expressions are clumsy, as well as the sentence structure. I'm well aware of that. Ok, let me get back to packing then. =(

 

SK.

[KEEPER]

I am really enjoying so far keep up he writing.

[Chapter Master Dave]

dude.....................this ROCKS honest well done please emperor willing make more :D

[StratoKhan]

Well, I am glad you guys liked it. But -

 

I have just read it properly again for the first time, as a whole.

 

And to me, it stinks. It needs to be re-written. It is clumsy, very clumsy (Yeah, I know I said that already) and I don't mean to sound big-headed but I could do so much better. Firstly, I'll improve it. As for adding to it, I guess I could expand it and actually have a point to this monstrosity, but I'll have to figure out why. The piece just started as a kind of description of a battle, so I could prove to myself that Marines can be convincing when they do more than just stereotypically jump into vast enemy battle lines, boltguns blazing.

 

I also have a piece scribbled somewhere, a first-person narrative of Sgt. Seyoun's first combat drop, and the surprising nature of the casualties the Flaming Swords take that day. (!) Once I re-hone the first piece I will definitely post that up too. It makes the guy who he is, and he's ear-marked for Captaincy, that kid is...

 

Stay tuned, is that what they say? =)

 

SK.