WIP Story

[fangtastic]

Hey

This is my first post one here, so apologies if it is a mess, this is a short story that popped into my head, let me know what you think!

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The storm raven shuddered through the upper atmosphere, blurring the occupants outlines, reaching a crescendo before dropping to a whisper as the craft entered the atmosphere proper.

Veteran Sargent Argalia’s vox cracked into life as the pilot reported in

++ T minus 18 minutes ++

Glancing around the cabin, his nine marines looked at him expectantly, two of the initiates murmuring encouragement to the machine spirit. Informing them of the time line, they started checking their equipment whilst he scanned their faces. Most were unknown to him, a few were familiar, and only two stood out. Fellow veteran and comrade since initiation, Brother Palladio had fought at his side on countless battlefields, the width and breadth of the Imperium. Having recently returned from a secondment to the Deathwatch, he was still sporting some exotic bolt rounds in his pouch. He’d chuckled at that, stating that he never knew when they’d come in handy before declaring his intention to join Argalia in his latest assignment. Brother Girola, the squad meltagunner and Brother Mariotto both nodded grimly to him, comrades from past wars.

The last face belonged to that assignment, Brother Innamorato. Argalia knew very little about him, except that he was considered exceptional in training, and that Chief Librarian Marchion had taken a keen interest. This last part was what intrigued Argalia the most, he obviously wasn’t psyker or else he’d be in the care of the librarians, he certainly wouldn’t be allowed to take up normal duties. But the fact that he’d been assigned a watch dog in Argalia must mean something, he just hadn’t figured out what yet.

++T minus 10 minutes++

Glancing up, Argalia saw that all his marines were ready, helmets in hand; heads bowed meditating on the coming conflict. He keyed his vox onto the command channel:

++Sargent Argalia, Assault squad Duccio, what’s the drop zone status?++

++Drop zone Alpha compromised, forward scout elements report heavy concentrations of ork forces inbound on area. Drop zone Bravo is clear, anti-air ordnance has been neutralised.++

Argalia smiled grimly, watching the scrolls on his armour float in the artificial low gravity as the dropship plunged towards the plant below. He started the battle rites “For Sangiunius’s Sacrifice, for the Emperors loss!” As they chanted the familiar words, the red drop light flicked on, and the assault marines started pulling on helmets, in preparation of the pressure drop in the cabin. Argalia could feel the craft shaking as the pilot applied reverse thrusters, slowing the Stormravens headlong rush toward the ground.

++T minus 2 minutes++

The light inside the cabin changed to amber, and with a rumble, the front ramp started opening, air rushing out of the pressurised cabin, a swirling vortex tugging at the marines. A series of flashes lit the opening ramp as missiles streaked away from the craft, spiralling gently away as they tracked towards the scouts designated targets.

++T minus 30 seconds++

Unclipping himself, Argalia stood up and addressed his squad “Tight formation, the sky will be busy, fast drop, drop zone is clear, minimal resi…”

A ball of flame rose up from the forest ahead of the drop craft, mushrooming out hundreds of feet above the ground, parting the clouds around it. The accompanying shockwave swept through the forest canopy, buffeting the craft as simultaneously the vox channel lit up with traffic:

++Drop Zone Bravo compromised! Repeat Compromised! All units proceed to Delta!++

The pilot banked viciously, Argalai swinging out into the middle of the cabin, one hand clinging onto a grav strap, the other his chainsword. There was a flurry of white as the stormraven dropped through the cloud cover, and then sudden black below. Argalia could see flashes of light criss-crossing the forest far below him before the pilots manoeuvre took the scene out of sight.

++Drop zone Delta below, in 5, 4, 3…++

Rounds were pinging off the Stormravens hull, increasing in intensity until with a high frequency repetitive thud the assault cannons on the nose started returning fire.

++…2, 1 GO GO GO GO++

Argalia realised he was screaming the pilots words as he herded his squad out over the ramps lip, as he followed them over the edge, the sounds dropped away to a blissful silence, broken only by the whistling of the air past him. Below him he saw the first flares of flame as his brothers slowed their decent with the jump packs on their back. The altimeter in the corner of his vision cycled down values, before Argalia started slowly pulsing his pack, drawing level with his squad.

The trees below rushed up towards them, prompting a continuous burst of flame from each squad member as they skimmed along the treetops the last few hundred meters to their designated drop site. In the distance, pillars of fire lit smoke pointed to the targeted anti-air sites, but still long strings of tracer probed around the night sky, made more dramatic under the low cloud. A ball of flame arced through the cloud cover, burning shapes tumbling out the side trailing fire as the marines tried to get clear of the spreading ball of carnage, a trail of debris and smoke along its path.

Muttering a blessing for his fallen brethren, Argalia swooped over the last tree tops and descended¬¬¬ to the clearing floor. Fallen trees littered the five kilometre wide clearing through the forest, a litter of broken branches and uprooted trunks. This drop zone was near the head of the scar like gouge the hulk had carved across the planet, disgorging thousands of chao worshipers onto the continent.

Flashes lit the distant treeline, rounds buzzing angrily past, a grunt over the squad vox as one was hit, cartwheeling away into the trees as the now uncontrolled jet pack carried the corpse before its small machine spirit cut the thrusters.

Argalia touched down behind a behemoth of a trunk, its span almost tall than a marine, the remains of his squad coming down down behind him into crouches, the jetpacks making them looming shapes in the night. A quick scan revealed that seven of the ten had made it. Innamorato, Girola, Mariotto were all huddled next to him, with Brothers Roggieri and Bindola, two of the initiates. Palladio was inspecting an impact crater on his chest plate, then half racked the slide on his bolt pistol, checking a round was in the chamber.

++Argalia, squad Duccio, in DZ Delta, 30% casualties, under heavy fire from grid reference 677.45 by….++

As he reeled off the details, he ran through the options in his head. There was a mix of small arms fire and some heavier stuff from three main positions, still flying wildly overhead, some knocking chips of wood off their impromptu barricade. He stood up, risking a glance over the barricade, across the tree littered expanse, locating the positions of the heavier guns from their muzzle flashes which lit up the trees around them. Argalia stared at the stars, a ringing in his ears. With a jolt he realised he was on his back, his squad grouped around him. Rolling to his feet, his armours display informed him that he’d been hit above his left eye, as he stood up he could feel s shallow cut sealing already, running blood half blinding him.

++Command to Duccio, all units tied down in DZ Bravo, no local support available; recommend head to Bravo to regroup++

Argalia allowed himself to swear, DZ Bravo was over 16 K’s away, and through the opposite treeline. To either side of them the gouge through the treeline stretched for hundreds of kilometres without a break, a wide open killing field littered with encampments and outposts.

He unclipped his helmet, taking a deep breath of the forest air, allowing himself one, two heartbeats to relax, his body already purging the adrenaline after the shot.

He allowed himself to meet the eyes of each squad member in turn as he outlined his plan. Stealthy approach using cover, concentrated assault, maximum confusion and diversion, break through the lines and regroup with the rest of the force.

As he outlined his plan, he knew they were all thinking what he was thinking. As plans went it relied on a lot of luck, would have to be executed ad-hoc, and could easily result in the deaths of them all. Argalia bowed his head as he led them in the Prayer of Forlorn Hope, the traditional rites of glory and loss seemed appropriate for the situation.

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[Zynk Kaladin]

Great story so far, man. Very entertaining.

 

I recommend letting the reader know it's night earlier. I was picturing a day battle up until the "looming shapes in the night" part near the end.

 

Also, after Sargent Argalia's voice gets cut off I'd add in how freaking loud the explosion sounded. A cool idea would be to explain a giant flash of light right before a deafening boom. I didn't really "feel" the explosion, so to speak, but rather it was explained. I hope you understand what I am trying to say because I don't think I'm getting my point across precisely :\

 

Lastly, when Argalia takes off his helmet, (I know this may seem odd) explain to the reader what he smells. Its impotent, imho, to give the reader a sense of all the main character's senses.

 

Can't wait for more!

[Sun Reaver]

I agree with the comments above. Additionally, your word choice seems a bit strange to me. In one sentence you will use phrases such as "impromptu barrricade" and then further down in the same sentence you will say "small arms fire and heavier stuff". I know it seems rather nit picky of me and ignorable, but that really affected the way I read the sentence. It throws me off because it just seems very underutilized compared to the rest of the work. The marines are supposed to be in a dire predicament and saying such a phrase makes me feel like the sergeant dismisses it as just some heavy stuff.

 

Other than that, its a great read. It had me entertained. Looking forward to more. :huh:

 

Sun Reaver

[fangtastic]

cheers for the feedback guys, much appreciated.

Zynk- I thought I had mentioned it being night earlier, evidentially not :) , and as for the explosion being explained rather than felt, i get you on that. I try to make it more involving but I sometimes end up being too descriptive and not emotive enough maybe?

Sun Reaver- Yeh reading that sentence back it is abit disjointed, I think I added the comment about the incoming fire after I wrote the rest, didnt realised I'd used 'stuff' either. Terrible from me, my bad lol.

I'l try and write some more tonight, uni work is looming though!

F

[fangtastic]

Part 2

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The sound of the rebel guardsmen’s voices drifted across the thirty metre gap, the lilting accent of the continent coming across distinctively to the marines heightened hearing. The approach across the clearing had gone smoothly, albeit slowly. Argalia was becoming increasingly aware that dawn would soon be upon them, already the sky behind was starting to lighten. To be caught out in the clearing under the watch of the heavy guns would be suicide, even for an armoured marine. A gentle breeze was drifting over from the rebels, bringing a snatch of laughter, and the smell of unwashed guardsmen and something else, a metallic scent that stirred a deep emotion in him. Blood. Argalia’s stomach twisted, and he felt the hunger stirring, awakening the rage, the hurt. Fighting against it, he glanced at his squad. Many of them had removed their helmets on the crawl over, for the marginally better sense of the surroundings it brought. Looking at them now, Argalia could see the rage building in them as the blood called to their darker side. Those that had experienced it before were coping, but the three younger initiates were visibly struggling, Innamorato and Roggieri especially had a wild look in their eyes. With a sinking feeling Argalia realised that his careful tactical assault was on the verge of collapsing in the face of his Brothers battle rage. Grimly he nodded his head at them, noting Roggieri’s glazed eyes, his silently muttering lips curling into a grimace.

His whisper was a barely more than a breath ‘On my mark, we go. Target officers and the heavy guns.’ His eyes met Palladios, and then slid to Roggieri. Palladio followed his gaze and nodded sadly. As he slowly raised his head over the shattered trunk they had gathered at, a new voice carried across. Harsh, guttural laughter. More than crazed, beyond insane. Argalia stopped breathing, mouth slightly open as all his sense strained for another sign. There. Again. The deep bellow and chuckle, followed by heavy footfalls. Chaos Marine.

Argalia realised he was fast running out of time. The plan was too far gone to change now, they would never make it back across the clearing to relative safety before dawn. The time for waiting was over.

A mutter, ‘3….2….’ Argalia realised it was his voice ‘..1…GO’ with that shout he ignited his pack, barely clearing the trunk as he flew from cover, the ground below a blur as the distance closed. He could see guardsmen sentries gaping at him as his red form flew towards them.

A face mangled on his blade as he crashed to the floor, his fist lashing out at another sentry, the pistol butt striking him off his feet. Argalia paused half a heartbeat, taking it all in. The litter of foxholes filled with sleeping shapes. The tall trunks. The sigils carved into them. The distant sandbagged autocannon emplacements. The giant red shape lumbering towards him, chain axe spluttering into life. Manic giggling emanated from speakers in the Beserkers armour, the sudden noise stirring men all around him.

The axe swung up towards him, over him as Argalia ducked, lunging his chainsword to gouge a groove across the Beserkers chest plate. It slithered off the armour as it twisted and caught him an uppercut on his chin. Argalia again found himself tumbling backwards, the sky flashing before his eyes. The stars were fast disappearing in the face of the coming dawn. Argalia frantically rolled away from the chain axe that was arcing towards his head. A spray of earth and splinters as it struck the ground. Argalia backpedalled away from the next wild swing. There was no finesse to the Beserkers attack, just pure aggression and strength. Argalia caught the next blow on his upraised chainsword, the two sets of teeth screaming as they meshed, the sword juddering in his fist. A snap shot with his pistol to the chest knocked the chaos marine back, barely giving Argalia time to snap a glance left and right. To the left Palladio was clinically dispatching frantic guardsmen with economic speed. Marriotto had landed next to one of the autocannon emplacements, dispatching the guardsmen running towards it with his bolt pistol. Methodical headshot after headshot; whilst he unclipped krak grenades from his belt with his free hand. To his right Girola had landed in the midst of a group of sentries and was battering them to pulp with his meltagun, trying to clear a shot on the next gun emplacement. Sleep befuddled Guardsmen were desperately trying to drag the autocannon around to face these red armoured monsters that had appeared in their midst. Roggieri was charging towards them, pistol flashing fire, his chainsword trailing a red spray as he sliced men asunder with rage given strength. From behind him Argalia could hear a rapid succession of shots as Bindola thinned out his comrades’ opponents.

With a roar the Beserker charged him again, axe held across its body, parallel to the ground as it was swung. Again Argalia blocked, but the sheer strength of the blow crushed his sword against his body. Although partially absorbed, the blow still had the power to pick him off his feet and fling him backwards. Crashing to the floor, his bent swords motor was screaming as it futilely tried to move the jammed teeth. A red shape flew into sight, Innamorato’s pack on full power as he tackled the Beserker. Caught unawares, it was swept off its feet, the two red armoured figures tumbling through the dirt. Innamorato flicked to his feet with the last of his momentum, pistol already coming up, snapping a series of shots at the Beserker which was rolling to its feet, still laughing manically. With a roar the Beserker charged Innamorato, brushing the bolts off like flies. Innamorato holstered his depleted pistol, crouching down into a fighting stance.

The Beserker swung the axe down from above its head in a perfect arc that would have split Innamorato if he hadn’t slid to one side. As the Beserker tried to change its wild swing towards Innamorato he grabbed the beserkers arm, the axe striking the floor. As he rolled to his knees Argalia watched as Innamorta smoothly slipped his chainsword under the beserkers arm, punching through the chestplate with deceptive ease, the teeth thrashing the now limp body around as they tore through the corrupted flesh.

A harsh crack followed by a thump signified the end of the first emplacement, confirmation of this came from Marriatto moment later. To the left, more and more guardsmen were pouring out of the trees behind the shattered emplacment, lasfire starting to flash past as officers bullied their men into firing lines. A glance confirmed that Palladio and Marriatto were falling back, snapping shots off at distant guardsmen, cutting down any foolish enough to get too close.

The guardsmen to the right had succeeded in dragging the autocannon around, their comrades sacrifice slowing Girola and the rage driven Roggieri from reaching them in time. The first round flashed past Roggieri, smashing through ranks of guardsmen before detonating, spraying Roggieri in blood and bone. He bellowed another challenge, carving his way through the rebels, shouting his disbelief at Horus’s treachery. Girola shouted ‘Roggieri has been lost to the flaw brothers!’ as he tried to make room to snap a shot at the emplacement. Argalia and Bindola were already sprinting towards Girola, as squad after squad of guardsmen poured around gun emplacement towards him.

The next shot punched Roggieri off his feet.

As he ran, Argalia snapped shots off at the rebel gunners. One stared in disbelief at a missing arm; another coughed blood and slumped, pushing the gun barrel briefly away from the marines.

Bindola had reached Girola, yanking him backwards and into space as he laid about him with pistol and sword, driving the guardsmen back in a bloody arc. A terrible roar erupted behind the marines, and a red armoured figure staggered to his feet, shouting defiance. With a roar it ran at the gunners, who took one look at this unkillable apparition and started scrambling away. Roggieri disappeared over the far wall of sandbags and disappeared, still bellowing the words of their lost Primarch.

Palladio, Marriatto and Innamorato had fallen back almost to Argalia, the two groups of marines being slowly pushed back towards each other by the organised firing ranks of the rebels.

Palladio’s familiar voice bellowed over the sound of hissing las rounds and the harsh crack of the bolt pistols ‘Time to go Argalia!’

A snap-hiss accompanied a blinding flash, the sandbags around the abandoned autocannon glowing and bubbling. A moments peace, and then a second flash, longer and more terrible than the first, as all the auto-rounds exploded at once. The emplacement rose gently into the air, then vanished, replaced by a roaring ball of earth and sound. The shockwave swept the guardsmen around it away like a giant hand, some simply shredded by the storm of shrapnel. The Angels superior reactions allowed them time to turn and duck, the heat wave sweeping over their heads, the storm of dust and splinters from shattered trees flaying exposed flesh.

Silence.

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let me know what you think, this is the first bit of writing I have done in ages, always appreciate feedback good or bad :huh: