The Cosmic Space Knights (...od)

[Doghouse]

The Scouring of Vengist IV

 

Chapter One: Prelude to War

 

The battle barge hung in high stationary orbit over Vengist IV like an ornate silver dagger poised to plunge deep into the heart of the planet.

There would be no time for pleasentries with the Imperial nobility of the ruling caste of the Agri-world below.

 

There would be no parades, no fanfares annoucing the arrival of the legendary Astartes, such was the urgency of their mission that even debarking by Thunder Hawks or Drop Pods was out of the question.

 

They were Angels of Death, the Emperor's rightious fury and they would decend apon the planet below like angry gods of war. This was a surgical strike straight to the heart of the Governor's palace from where they would establish a beach head to eradicate their foe.

 

The Governor's office was illuminated by a blinding white light that chilled the air, permafrost formed instantly over the ancient bookcases that lined the walls of the stately room that the light had touched. The Governor stared in frightened disbelief as the light faded to reveal a circle of metal giants, Terminators of the Adeptus Astartes, their storm bolters raised they began scanning the room as they established their surroundings. The giants strode forwards, the servos of their magnificent armour whined, great foot falls echoed around the chamber as they stomped forth to establis a perimenter at each of the four doors leading from the office.

The Governor, a skilled and passionate orator who had lead the planetary senate in debate countless times and who's very words had stirred millions of Imperial citizens, was for the first time in his life truely lost for words.

 

At the center of the circle stood a lone Astarte, his armour although similar in hue to those of his comrades was suprisingly spartan. The emblem on his single shoulderpad seemed to depict a round yellow sun but it was hard to tell from a single glance in the poor light of the room. The Astarte stood before him like a mighty collosus, a legend of old both terrifying and awe inspiring. He was truely humbled by the Captain's presence.

 

"Forgive me Governor but there is little time for introductions," The Captain said as the Governor desperately tried not to wilt under the intense power of the giant's ice cold gaze "we intercepted your distress call and embarked with all haste!"

 

The Governor trembled as he attempted to reply. He stopped before the words could utter forth from his lips, his brow furrowed in bemusement.

 

"Dis...distress call?" He stammered.

 

"Yes, we received a distress call bound for holy Terra telling of a Xenos incursion. Although we are few in number we came as soon as we could!"

 

"I'm sorry...a distress call you say?" The governor repeated himself just to make certain what he was hearing was correct.

 

"Yes, it was bound for Terra via Astromican relay omega beta six three nine"

 

The rather puzzled Govenor retreated to his desk before perching his reading glasses on the end of his nose and began scanning through historical data backlogs.

 

"Ah, here we are," he exclaimed "it appears my predecessor dispatched an Administrium Adeptus Bioligicus Request form to the Agri-cultural Magos concerning an influx of a previously unseen xenos life form here on Vengist." he continued rather pleased with himself "The transmission is several centuries old, I'm afraid there has been a bit of a misunderstanding my leige." He smiled as he looked up from the scanner.

 

"What kind of xenos?" The Captain enquired.

 

The Governor tapped into key board and a single ray of light rose from the desk surface before blossoming into an image approximately eight inches high of an alien lifeform.

 

"THRONE!" The Captain exclaimed in horror "How big are these unholy terrors!"

 

The Governor paused before answering.

 

"Erm, it's a life sized image...they're called Ptera-Squirrels. They are quite cute actually, they feed mostly on insects that threaten our crops. My children keep one as a pet, they're perfectly harmless unless..."

 

"Unless?" The Governor's choice of words had peaked the Captain's interest.

 

"Well, unless they are threatened by natural predators in which case later generations will under go metamorphosis into vicious blood drinking carnivores...but that takes...well, decades."

 

"And where are these xenos located?"

 

"Well," The Governor continued "several kilometres to the north of the city beyond the valley known as the Hot Gates, about a million or so but they're mostly harmless." He smiled.

 

"SERGEANT!" The Captain bellowed "Contact the Battle Barge, I want all Thunder Hawks prepared for combat drop within the hour!"

 

"C...combat drop?" The Governor laughed nervously "Is that really neccessary?"

 

The Captain rested his knuckles on the table as he drew himself down to eye level with the Governor.

 

"Do you know what is written in the Holy Codex Astartes concerning foul Xenos?" He snarled as the table began to creak and strain under his enormous weight. The Governor stared blankly. "It is written...that the man who...no wait...never allow the...no wait a minute..." His eyes glazed over for a moment as he stared blankly ahead mumbling under his breath to himself "Well, it says Xenos are bad and must be destroyed!" he growled as he slammed his fist into the table splintering it's ornate laminate surface.

Standing upright he turned to walk away.

 

"What is it you are saying, you're going to attack the ptera-squirrels?" The Governor asked, not quite liking where this conversation was leading.

 

"We will bombard them from orbit, civillian collateral damage shouldn't be more than oh, sixty or seventy percent at most!" the Captain remarked casually.

 

"SIXTY OR SEVENTY PERCENT!" The Govennor screamed in disbelief.

 

"Hmm, perhaps you are right these could prove a worthy opponent for the Chapter a land based assault would only amount to a casulaty rate of five to one in our favour!"

 

"NO!" The Governor's face was turning a bright scarlet "I will NOT sanction this action, I will launch a protest with the Administratium!"

 

Maximus froze in midstep. The Administratium, feth! That could lead to an Inquisitional enquiry and then the Cosmic Space Knights (of doom) might be made to explain for losing those damn STC templates.

 

"I strictly forbid you to land an army on Vengist soil!"

 

"Very well," Maximus retorted "I shall do as you request but just one thing..."

 

"Yes my leige?" The Govenror replied.

 

"The journey has been long and ardous, might I ask that my personal guard of three hundred and I be allowed to stretch our legs here on your beautiful planet?"

 

"Of course, I shall provide you with a personal escort..."

 

"That will not be neccessary Governor!" Maximus interrupted politely "I thought my men might want to go for a brisk walk, say several kilometres north of the city, to say...oh I don't know...the Hot Gates?"

With that he turned smiling to himself, his Terminators falling in behind him as he left the Govenor alone in his office and prepared for war.

 

 

 

In the darkest depths of the Vengist system the fleet assembled. Colossal Astartes battle barges, from which ornate and ancient spires that reached out from their decks as though to stab the very heart of the stars themselves, majestically performed their final vector adjustments as they assumed battle formation.

 

Around them gathered the smaller vessels of the fleet. Strike Cruisers, the teeth of the attack that would tear the throats from their enemies, were alive with activity as their crews prepared the flight decks and powered up the vessels' formidable weapons batteries.

Each in turn themselves flanked by a small flotilla of support vessels and frigates that would provide protection should enemy fighter craft breach their formidable defences as the mighty Thunder Hawks disembarked to deploy the mighty warriors of the Chapter straight to the heart of their enemies flanked by smaller Storm Raven transports.

 

Brother-Sergeant Meatshield could not help but feel pride swell in his twin hearts. Even a hardened combat veteran of the chapter like himself could not help but be moved by such an awe inspiring spectacle as he took a moment to look out of the observation portal of the Strike Cruiser Planet Squisher before turning to address his men assembled on the flight deck.

 

"TODAY BROTHERS WE GO TO WAR!" He bellowed to the mass of genetically enhanced warriors that stood at attention before him, each clutching their Foe-fether pattern bolters across their chests.

This in itself was a sight to behold as they stood rank and file before their Thunder Hawk gun ships. A full company of the Emperor's finest weapon of retribution clad in full metallic plate armour, their faces hidden by the visors of their helmets he almost pitied their enemies.

A single disciplined roar drowned all other sound on the flight deck in response to his battle cry.

 

"Once again we find ourselves at war with the enemies of man" He continued as he walked along the first rank of the motionless Astartes.

 

"Once again we prepare to smite the foes of the Imperium, once more..."

 

Brother-Sergeant Meatshield stopped in his tracks and slowly took one step backwards as he turned to face Brother Scrounger.

 

"What is that Brother Scrounger?" He remarked as he stared into the face of the Astarte.

 

"What's what Brother-Sergeant?" Scrounger enquired innocently.

 

"Your battle helmet, what's wrong with it?" He scowled at the unflinching warrior.

 

"This is artificer armour Brother-Sergeant. It's an MK II Crusade pattern battle helmet!" He grinned proudly to himself.

 

Brother-Sergeant Meatshield took a moment to compose himself.

 

"Then why does it say rations across the front?" He enquired softly.

 

"It's an ancient High Gothic battle inscription from the time of the Great Crusade Brother-Sergeant!" He grinned "It means to ration the fury of the Emperor's finest amongst your foes; it's actually quite philosophical I think."

 

"It's a rations can isn't Brother Scrounger!" He sighed heavily.

 

"I don't understand Brother-Sergeant?" Scrounger replied innocently "This is an ancient and treasured relic of our great Chapter, an honoured and glorious reminder of heroes of old that I proudly wear into battle!"

 

"It's a ration can that you've drilled eye holes in so you can see where you're going isn't it, you haven't even got eye lenses in it"

 

Scrounger's head slumped forwards slightly like a child that had been caught red handed stealing cookies from the jar as he stared awkwardly at his feet.

 

"Yes Brother-Sergeant...but...but...Brother Bullet shield took my issue helmet because he lost his..."

 

"No I didn't you jerk!" A voice screamed out from the rear ranks of the assembled Astartes.

 

"Yes you did, Brother Body bag saw you take it!" Scrounger yelled as he turned around to face his brothers shaking his fist in anger "He told me you took it from my foot locker whilst I was asleep!"

 

“Body bag…you lying jerk, you were the one that took it!” Bullet shield protested, a commotion broke out in the rear ranks as the two warriors childishly began shoving each other.

 

“No I never!”

 

“BROTHERS!” Brother-Sergeant Meatshield bellowed “Save your anger for the enemy, now get to your Thunder Hawks for now we go to war!”

 

“EVERYONE REMEMBER WHERE WE PARKED!” The company replied before turning to embark the mighty birds of war and prepared to take the fight to the enemy.

 

 

 

The journey to the surface had proven uneventful. There had been no barrage of flak cannons blazing high explosive shells as the Astartes descended through the planet's atmosphere, no winged monstrosities clawing at their hulls in an attempt force them to crash into the dense jungle below, it was as if their enemy weren't even concerned with the angels of death that approached in machines of death and destruction. Truly these Ptera-Squirrels were a foe to be wary of.

 

The Storm Raven touched down in a small clearing, the moment the boarding ramp touched the surface of the soil the squad wasted no time and dispersed into the forest as the transport soared once more into the heavens to bring more of their brethren to the fight.

 

Even through the external grill and advanced breathing filters of his MkVII helm Brother-Sergeant Meatshield's augmented senses could pick out the individual scents of his surroundings. He could indentify his power armoured brothers by their individual musks. He could taste the faint metallic taint that hung in the air produced by the distant sprawling factories of Vengist City, carried by the prevailing winds.

He could distinguish the individual sounds of the forest mapping his surroundings in his mind's eye despite the suit's sophisticated augers and auspexes. More importantly he could sense his enemy.

 

Meatshield silently raised a clenched fist signalling for his squad to halt. Each brother tensed as they immediately scanned the forest for signs of xenos activity, each brother watching the back of the man next to him.

 

There had been no word from Captain Maximus Vaan Damage and his brave 300 since they had left for the Hot Gates.

Supreme Grand Chapter Master Benchpress had ordered the newly created clone tactical squads to begin sweeping the forests north of the city to locate them at their last known position. The Techs had a theory that there may well be a type of Ptera-Squirrel they hadn't encountered before, an intelligent leader caste, a Brain-Squirrel that must be eliminated at all costs. Sure, the Ptera-Squirrels hadn't mounted any form of offensive to suggest such a creature existed or displayed any form of activity other than scampering around the trees chasing each other's tails playfully but it was only a matter of time before they became organised and the war would begin in earnest.

 

The attack was sudden and unexpected. The attacker dropped from the trees above gliding on thin membranes that stretched between it's limbs to land squarely on the face plate of Brother Deadmeat. It clung to his visor briefly, staring him in the face curiously before scampering across his head and over his pack. Unable to draw a bead on his assailant with his Plasma Cannon Deadmeat let out a squeal of anguish. As one the squad turned and fired, the forest floor lit up with the blinding flash and roar of mass-reactive bolter shells impacting against Brother Deadmeat's armour. Then there was silence.

 

As the smoke cleared the squad advanced on the fallen form of their brother.

 

"Brother Deadmeat?... really sorry about that, are you ok?" Brother Token enquired sheepishly as he knelt next to his prone comrade and gently prodded the marine with his index finger.

 

Deadmeat sat bolt up right. "YOU SHOT ME...YOU SHOT ME YOU FETHING JERKS!" He screamed almost hysterically. His armour was pitted, blackened and scarred by the bolt shells, great pits of ceramite had been torn into the suit. "THAT REALLY HURT...YOU...YOU DUMB JERKS!"

 

"Yeah...erm...well, sorry!" Token cringed "There was this xenos and it was sort of on your face..."

 

Brother-Sergeant Meatshield's raised his bolter "Anyone else hear that?" He interupted.

 

"Hear what?" Token said as he stood adopting a combat stance.

 

"That whirling hissing sound," he cocked his head slightly as if listening intently "I can taste something unnatural in the air, something tainted, something industrial."

 

"All I can taste is fething blood" Deadmeat muttered as he wrenched his battered helmet free and spat several teeth into the palm of his hand.

 

Meatshield's mind raced back to his intensive one week sergeant training course at the Clone Acadamy, what was it he wasn't seeing here, what was it that whirled, hissed and produced chemical odours.

 

"Oh Throne..." He grimaced as he looked at Brother Deadmeat's Plasma pack, coolant gases venting from a ruptured hose.

 

"What?" Deadmeat said he rubbed his head smiling a toothless grin.

 

"Plasma reactor meltdown..."

 

"Oh...feth..." Deadmeat sighed.

 

The immediate forest was consumed by a brilliant blue ball of light. Trees and foliage were vapourised as the super heated gases of the Plasma Cannon erupted in critical mass. Then there was only darkness.

 

Being the furthest from Deadmeat's position when the reactor blew the Brother-Sergeant had been thrown clear of the explosion's epicenter to land deep into the forest.

As he lay on his side he became aware of the faintest sensation of a breeze blowing against his face through the shattered lenses of his visor.

Although he had no idea of how badly he'd been injured, his pounding head was a clear sign that he was still alive.

As his vison began to clear he saw it.

The Ptera-Squirrel approached in small bounding hops to stop right next to his face. Meatshield stared into it's two twinkling evil little eyes, his hearts pounding as it wrinkled it's tiny nose as if to sniff his visor.

Try as he might he couldn't move his arm to reach his bolt pistol sidearm.

It moved it's furry little face closer, then stopped.

Stood on it's two back leg's, it's tiny ears erect, it twiched it's head as it sniffed the air repeatedly.

The deafening crack of two trees spliting apart behind echoed across the forest as the large ceramite and admantium foot of Brother Hulk's dreadnought came crashing down squashing the xeno flat.

"Feth you, alien scum!" Meatshield laughed as he painfully rolled onto his front before using the venerable dreadnought's greave to haul himself to his feet.

There was little time for celebrations however.

 

"BROTHER-SERGEANT," Brother Hulk's voice boomed out over his external vox speakers "I'M READING MULTIPLE LIFE SIGNS ALL AROUND OUR POSITION, WE ARE SURROUNDED!"

 

"Throne!" Meatshield snarled unholstering his bolt pistol with fumbling fingers "It's a trap, we are truely undone!"

[Skirax]

I've been waiting for you to post this here, my friend :) Welcome to the madhouse :)

[Doghouse]

Chapter Two: An Unexpected Turn of Events

 

From the great tower of the Governor's palace Iziah had watched as the carnage of war spread from the forests of the north into the outskirts of the great city.

Had Governor Iziah not been sat with his head in his hands groaning to himself then he may have seen the sinister Iron Duke enter the room. As it was he was too pre-occupied with the impending disaster that surely would engulf the world of Vebgist IV sending them crashing into endless war.

"My Lord" The Iron Duke announced himself as an aid scurried into the room frantically puffing as out of breath he desperately searched for an electrical socket to plug the Iron Duke's bionic life support into.

The Iron Duke was a giant of a man but after an unfortunate tanning machine accident he had been forced to replace the entire right hand side of his body with sophisticated ornate bionics and bronze machine parts.

 

"You know of the presence of the Astartes here on Vengist I presume?" The Governor sighed in an exaggerated manner as he slowly looked up at his first general.

 

"Yes my Lord, I have been monitoring the Astartes movements since the Captain and his bodyguard disembarked their transports."

 

"And?" Governor Iziah groaned.

 

"And shortly after setting off they headed west for several kilometres, then stopped. My scouts said that it appeared they were arguing amongst themselves as to which way they were supposed to be going before doubling back to their transports and finally heading north to the Hot Gates my Lord. I have...I...I ha..." The Iron Duke began to slurr his speach heavily as a small red light on the side of his side began to blink in time to a warning chime.

 

The aid who was slumped in the corner lept to his feet pulling a small brass key from his tunic and inserted it in the side of the Duke's head. He began furiously turning the key until the the little light turned green and the chiming stopped. Producing a small silk cloth he gently dabbed the drool from the corner of the of the Duke's mouth and hurried back to the shadows.

His half clockwork brain fully wound he continued. "I have despatched an aid to my 2nd Bearded Grenadiers battalion to send word that they should wait in ambush for the Astartes beyond the Hot Gates."

 

The Governor looked up in a combination of shock and horror.

 

"You did what?" His mouth hung open in disbelief at what he was hearing from the Duke.

 

"I have despatched my finest regiment to confront the invading Astartes and drive them from our proud world. For too long we have lived under the yoke of oppression that is the Imperium, we will strike out into the stars and bring them to their knees! Even as we speak my artillery battalions are bombarding their positions driving them to our waiting troops"

 

"W...wh...why? Why would you do this? ARE YOU FETHING MAD!!!" Iziah stood bolt upright and screamed hysterically. "The Imperium's finest troops, super humans that carved an empire from the very stars themselves and you are attacking them with old men armed with flint lock rifles?"

 

"Ah..." The Duke said with a smug smile creeping across his lips as he twisted the tip of his long moustache "but they are fighting on two fronts, we will catch them unexpected between our troops and the xenos..."

 

"SQUIRRELS...THEY...ARE...FETHING PTERA-SQUIRRELS!" Iziah screamed, his face scarlet with frustration "They are no more of a threat than...than...your aid sat there in the corner!"

 

The Iron Duke paused for a second to take this new information on board.

 

"Hmm, good point..." He said as he drew his ornate las-pistol and shot the aid dead. "Better to be safe than sorry..." He smiled.

 

 

 

Senior tech-serf Oswald hurried through the warren of trenches to the command bunker keeping as low as humanly possible as shells exploded around him showering him with mud and dirt. Shells raining down from the Vengist PDF artillery positions in the hills to the south had forced the Astartes to engage the enemy across the Vengist country side that was rapidly becoming a vast no-man's of crater shells and scorched rock.

 

As Oswald frantically scrambled through the door to the bunker the lighting flickered and shook as the occasional direct hit was scored by the enemy rebel guardmen siege weapons.

 

"Well? Where is it?" Captain Vaan Damage asked impatiently as he sat in his ornate command throne in the centre of the bunker.

 

Oswald began to feel more than a little uncomfortable as he sensed the eyes of everyone in the bunker turning to him expectantly.

 

"There...well..."

 

"SPIT IT OUT MAN!" Vaan Damage bellowed as his patiance wore thin. An explosion tore into the roof of the bunker sending beams and debris crashing down as though his words were spoken with the power to bring down worlds around them. As the dust settled Oswald could see the arm of one of Vaan Damage's aids poking through the rubble.

 

"Never mind him, he'll be alright once he's had the rest of the afternoon off." Vaan Damage dismissed the injured aid casually "where is it? My men are bravely getting slaughtered out there!"

 

"It says it's not coming," Oswald blurted out "it says you upset it!"

 

Vaan Damage groaned as he ran the palm of his hand the length of his face.

 

"Brother Boombox, patch me through to the Fortress!" He barked to the Astarte sat at the comms panel.

 

"Yes my lord" the marine answered dutifuly as the comms system flickered into life.

 

"Fortress! this is Captain Vaan Damage I am ordering you to advance on my position and provide fire support immediately!"

 

The room was silent except for the dull crump of shells exploding out side and the hiss of static of from the open comms line.

 

"+++NO+++" The metallic voice replied as the static was interupted.

 

"Advance immediately!" Vaan Damage ordered

 

"+++DON'T WANT TO+++"

 

"As Captain of the first company I order you to advance!" The Captain barked, his knuckles whitening as he began to crush the arms of the command throne as he tightened his grip in impatience.

 

"+++NO+++CAN'T MAKE ME+++" The voice sulked.

 

"ADVANCE NOW!!!" The bunker shook with another direct hit, Oswald screamed rather girlishly and cowered in the corner of the room.

 

"+++DON'T WANT TO+++"

 

"What's is the matter Fortress?" Vaan Damage sighed.

 

There was silence.

 

"+++YOU SHOUTED AT ME+++"

 

"No I never!"

 

"+++YES YOU DID+++"

 

"I did no such thing!"

 

"+++YOU DID TECH-SERF OSWALD HEARD YOU+++"

 

Vaan Damage turned his gaze on the cowering Tech-Serf and muttered to himself under his breath.

 

"You see those men out there?"

 

"+++WHAT THE SILVER ARMOURED MEN?+++" The disembodied voice enquired.

 

"No...those are OUR men..."

 

"+++OH SO I CAN'T SQUISH THEM THEN?+++"

 

"No..." The captain continued as he tried to ignore the last comment "the other men, the bad men."

 

"+++YES+++"

 

"They're ones that told me to shout at you!"

 

The Fortress paused in thought.

 

"+++CAN I SQUISH THEM?+++"

 

"Yes, go squish the bad men!" Vaan Damage sighed as he cradled his head in his hands.

 

"+++ORDER ACKNOWLEDGED+++TARGET SIGHTED AND ENGAGING+++"

 

The Captain slumped back in his chair, it was going to be a very long day.

[Doghouse]

Thanks mate, thought it was about time that I started posting over here. ^_^

[Skirax]

Well you're not wasting yours or anyone elses time - this is great! Lots of laughs along the way and it's a great story ^_^

[fivepointedstar]

just such awesomeness lept from the moniter as i read these stories great work.

[Bjorn Firewalker]

I keep having 'Monty Python's Great Crud- I mean Croissant- uh, Whatever You Call a Holy War in the, uh, Messiah-Guy's Name' in mind when I read this.

[Aqui]

Loving it so far, but I just love the Battle Cry! ;)

[Brother Saturnus]

this had me laughing out loud for some time. Youre a excellent writer. I applaud your literary prowess sir.

[Brother Argent]

You think his writing is good, you should see his models...

[Nacho Wolf]

God, my computer just blew up with over-exposure to awesome, you sir, are a saint

[Doghouse]

Cheers guys. :)

 

Just putting together the next instalment and will have it up soon. :)