We are Legion

[Valin Darkblade]

In the cold, dark bleakness of the 41st Millennium, there is only war. Man-kind stands against a never ending tide. From out of the swirling darkness comes the forces of Chaos and Xenos alike. Since the dawn of man-kind, there has always been war. Peace is but an illusion to hide the build up of the next war.

 

It has been ten thousand years since the God Emperor walked amongst man-kind. Ten-thousand years since his sons brought humanity to its knees in a great civil war. In this bleak and desolate future, salvation lies in the hands of the Astartes, the last great bastion of defense, burning flames in the darkness to guide men from being consumed. Yet, not all the Astartes pay their loyalties to the God Emperor. Many have fallen and joined the ranks of the enemy, fighting the brothers they once stood beside.

 

With the dawning of a new Millennium what great threats lay upon the horizon? What shall challenge the mettle of these great warriors and bring them to the point of breaking? Against all foes they have stood as solid as the bedrock, unwavering, unbreakable, and unforgiving in their vengeance. Yet how long will they remain unbroken against a foe just as determined as they are?

 

Deep within the eastern fringes, a new threat stirs ready to assault and consume the Imperium. It is a threat that shall once again throw the Imperium into a new age and a new civil war. This is the beginning of the 42nd Millennium, the dawning of a new age....is the Imperium ready?

[Valin Darkblade]

The Magos Genetor stirred as the confines of the stasis pod were opened to the stale air of the infirmary. He stepped down from the pod as his joints creaked with the years of disuse. For nearly three thousand years he had been using the stasis sleep to extend his life, to be alive when his plans came to fruition.

 

He paused as his bionics cycled and calibrated, his remaining flesh eye took a moment to adjust to the slightly darkened room. He could see the room clearly though through his bionic eye. Every detail, every nuance of the room was laid out in vivid detail. Even the blood-stained surgery tables with mechanical implements hanging from the ceiling over each. His eyes were drawn however to the large windows set at one end of the room. The window looked out upon hundreds of rows of medical vats. Massive warriors were suspended in the liquid of each vat, a breather covering their nose and mouths. In-vitro lines snaked through the liquid connected to various points on the bodies.

 

This was his life’s work. He smiled to himself as a servitor approached, handing over several data pads. The Magos Genetor surveyed each, assimilating the data quickly, his enhanced synapses running through every detail given to him. The experiments had succeeded far beyond anything he had hoped for. He turned his gaze once more to the vats.

 

He had spent years having agents procure what he needed from the witless Astartes. Samples that had proven invaluable, knowledge of how many chapters created their Marines. He had succeeded in doing what the God Emperor had once done. Only this time, he wouldn’t fail. No pact with Chaos was needed. Oh, he knew the dirty secrets the Astartes hid away from, secrets that the Highlords of Terra refused to tell the general populace.

 

Their holy warriors, their Astartes, were tainted from the beginning by the hand of Chaos. He laughed as he thought of the irony of what the Emperor had tried to do. He stepped from the infirmary into the low lights of the massive manufacturm. He began to walk musing over his plans, inspecting the work he had so carefully laid out.

 

He would have to see the Magos Artisans soon. He had been too long suspended in stasis, and he wanted to see what grand designs would even now be born to fruition . His legion would be great, superior beyond anything yet seen in the Imperium. He grabbed a servitor as it passed by. “Transmit communication to all Magos. One hour’s time in the situation room.”

room.”

[Yaj]

How dare you blaspheme against his majesty!

 

Seriously though I quite enjoyed that and look forward to the rest.

[Valin Darkblade]

Chapter 1

 

Magos Genetor Attero strode into the situation room, his heels ringing with metallic clarity as he took in the scene before his eyes. Servitors worked at consoles, only briefly glancing in his direction before returning to their assigned tasks. He stepped up to the large holo-projecto,r placing his hands on its surface. Wires coiled from under the folds of his robes plugging into various ports on machine.

 

Attero had long ago given up much of his human frailty to become more machine than man. Even a small portion of his brain had been replaced with bionics, giving him a mind that could store more and process it twice as fast as any normal man. He closed his eyes, more a reflex then anything, as his mind became one with the machine spirit. Data began to flow almost immediately providing him a vast overview of the last hundred years, and details of every nuance of the legion he had built.

 

Attero paused the feed, bringing up the schematics of the legion’s armor onto the viewer. Attero had worked alongside the Artisan Magos to revamp the Astartes Mark VIII Armors. They had replaced the standard shoulder pads used by the Astartes with the three-layered over-lapping design for what would be the company commands, and a single layer version forgoing the edging currently used. The design was simple to mass-produce and was made a little thicker, offering more protection. Attero had settled on a more fluid design for the torso armor. Interlocked solid plates covered the central cabling of the armor while overlapping plates had been chosen for the sides. The side armor came down far enough to overlap the vulnerable joints of the hips while still allowing for full movement range.

 

The true enhancement, though, had been to the power packs. Power output had been increased by nearly fifty percent and had an integrated force shielding. Attero had spent centuries with the Magos Artisan refining the design; though it was stolen from Xenos tech they had been able to perfect it. Attero ran over the test results and was pleased with the results. Testing had shown it offered a minimum of thirty percent protection under heavy fire before failure. It was enough to give his new legion the edge they needed.

 

He had not spent three millennia laying his plans out to see them fail. He knew the imperium would come down with all its might to destroy them. Every edge that they could get he would take. He continued scanning the data when he heard the doors open and the first footfalls inside the chamber. He glanced up seeing the first of the Magos begin to enter.

 

Attero cut the feed as they began to filter into the chamber. Thirteen in all, including himself. He paused and waited as each Magos took a spot around the holo-projector. Every Magos before him was an expert in his field, recruited over the first thousand years that Attero had used to set his plans into motion.

 

He turned his gaze upon each one, his bionics scanning for hidden recorders or anything used to betray them. His voice was more machine than human as he started to speak.

 

“Our hour is at hand gentleman. We have worked in the shadows for three thousand years to prepare for this moment. Each of us has provided invaluable information and insight to the war machine that we have created. A new millennium is upon us and now is the hour we strike the Imperium and raise Mars to its rightful place. To long has the Mechanicum served and toiled beside the Imperium, more her lap dog than her faithful ally. We are forced to produce their war machines and feed them the glory.

 

“No more I say! Now is the hour we stand as one. We thirteen shall bring the great Imperium to its knees and raise Mars to its rightful place. We shall bring forth a new age for man-kind. We shall stand and drive the failings of man-kind ahead of us. Man-kind shall be reborn and prosperity brought back to the universe. Where the Emperor failed, we shall succeed and realize not only his dream for humanity, but ours as well for the Glory of Mars.

 

“Tell me where does our legion stand, our we prepared to go to war?”

 

Atteros turned his eyes the man who began to speak. His build was slight, almost willow thin. Half of his face and skull was covered in plasti-steel. The eye in the socket was a bionic replacement that glowed crimson. Atteros knew the covering masked the injuries over that side of his face but also concealed the work done to enhance his brain. Data slates and recorders hung from every inch of his body, feeding him data from across the Imperium.

 

“Magos Atteros if you would allow me to speak?” Atteros nodded his head at his fellow Magos. The man was a strategic genius. Though he was a Magos Logis, the man had dedicated his life to the military sciences. He knew every legion’s combat doctrine better than many of the Chapter Masters themselves.

 

“I shall not delve deep into information that many of you already know. Atteros, your re-working of the genetic coding has enabled us to produce a far superior specimen than the Astartes can imagine. We lose one in a thousand now. Combat effectiveness is up thirty percent. Our war machines roll off the assembly line at an astonishing rate. We can sustain the war at a high rate of attrition for no less than fifty years at our current numbers.”

 

Atteros nodded touching his hand to the holo-projector, a map of the galaxy flared to life before the assembled. “You have calculated this with our legion being raw and untested, yes?”

 

Magos Logis nodded his head working the projector to focus on a sector of space not far from the Eastern fringes. “I have also calculated the best possible scenarios for allowing our legion to stretch its legs and begin combat operations. It would be fool hardy, Atteros, to tackle the Astartes from the start, and I believe many of my fellows agree.”

 

Atteros shifted inside his robes, he could feel his temperament flare but brushed it aside as he watched each nod in turn. “Magos Logis, I have no doubt that you are correct. Despite the need to deal a blow to the Imperium to awaken them to our presence, our legion is untried. We must allow those Marines we have created time to learn and grow.

 

Though we have implemented physco-therapy to implement all the combat doctrines that we have amassed, they need practical application. We cannot rely on what we do during their transformation to the Legion to carry the day. They are not the servitors we use on a regular basis, even for combat. They are living, thinking beings, and as such, must be given some room to learn on their own. What do you have in mind?”

 

Magos Logis focused the map on a small world producing a stream of feed data alongside it. “This world is currently held by the 682nd Cadian Regiment, who are under-strengthened and besieged by a force of Orks. Relief is en route, but if calculations are correct, weeks out. With the advances to our starships, we can make the jump in a standard week. I would advise sending half of the legion, let our men learn and return to the fold, and pass along the knowledge learned.”

 

Atteros nodded his head, contemplating the course of action. “What say you all? Are we ready for war?”

 

Each nodded in acceptance with only one thing heard throughout the room. “We are Legion.”

 

Atteros smiled, cutting the stellar map from the holo-projector. “Make final preparations see to it that the fleet is ready to move in one day’s time. I shall see each of you aboard the Vengeance of Mars.” Atteros walked from the room, letting the doors slide shut behind him. His thoughts brought a smile to his face as he thought of Terra burning before his Legion.

 

***Yes I have some reworking to do but I wished to get this up there for reading and comments. Enjoy***

[Valin Darkblade]

Chapter 2

Atteros entered the command bridge, as the Vengeance of Mars broke free from the warp. The holo-displays showed the surrounding space as the entire fleet transitioned back into real space. A dark smile crossed his features as he thought of the steps they were about to take, one that would plunge the Imperium of man into civil war once more.

 

Great blast shields slide from the front view ports of the massive Battle Barge, revealing Formund in all its wasted glory. The planet was a dead ruin destroyed when a nearby star had vanished in a massive explosion of radiation and waste. It had seared away the atmosphere and scorched all life from the planet’s surface.

 

Atteros had chosen it for its seclusion from Imperial eyes, yet it was right on the back door of the mighty Empire of Man-kind. Here was his staging ground. Already on the surface, well-hidden factories manufactured the armaments and supplies that would extend the range of his Legion to take the fight to the Imperium.

 

The vox system crackled as he looked over the holo-vid reviewing the plan for their first assault. Ships checked in as coms became restored from the warp transition. Atteros opened a channel broadcasting to the entire fleet.

 

“Brothers now is the hour that we reveal ourselves. The Imperium of Mankind shall know fear once more. We are Legion, and they shall feel the might of Mars brought down upon them. No longer shall we stay in the shadows, hiding and waiting. Now is the hour of our ascension!” Cheers of approval broke across the coms net as Atteros broadcast the coordinates of their first assault.

 

A wicked smile crossed his face as he thought of the looks upon the faces of the Imperial Guards and the Astartes, relieved to find they had reinforcements until that moment when his men would tear them asunder and show their true allegiance.

 

He stabbed a finger at the console, watching as the target planet transitioned from the star map to encompass the entire viewer. Corinthe was home to an Imperial Guard regiment embattled with an Ork infestation. Atteros smiled. Here, his legion would be bloodied, and here, the Imperium would know they had a new enemy.

[Valin Darkblade]

Chapter 3

 

Roars echoed from the tree line as Lieutenant Eolas Laidir moved down the line shouting orders.

 

“Adjust that heavy bolter! Prepare for the charge!” He smacked a guardsmen over the back of the head, which was drooping on the butt of his las-gun. “Private, wake the hell up! Those greenskins are going to show you no mercy for slacking off!”

 

He checked the charge on his las-pistol, holstering it before un-slinging his own las-gun and slamming a fresh clip into it. He could hear the Vox Communications filtering from the radio-man close to his side. Three days of fighting and he had lost over half of his men and been forced to fall back, abandoning the first two sets of trenches.

 

He knew he could not hold out much longer, and command refused to spare any more reinforcements. He was the far left flank and had to hold, he was told, or the greenskins would overwhelm the line and roll them up all the way back to the city.

 

Eolas could feel it in his bones that this was his last stand. There was no way he could hold the growing hordes of greenskins. They knew the flank was failing and had moved up more enforcements over the last two days. The loss of the Sentinels and the two Leman Russ tanks had been a blow on the second day that he could not afford to lose.

 

Eolas, though, knew he had to hold. In the night he had crept forward with several of his men, removing artillery rounds from the destroyed hulks of the Leman Russ tanks. They had laid them throughout the forward trenches, setting demo charges to rig them to blow. He had also gathered the last of the promethium and managed to fill several of the trenches with out notice. He hoped it would buy them a little bit of time.

 

Eolas turned toward the man now carrying the Vox, grabbing the receiver.

 

“Regimental Command, this is Lieutenant Laidir ID number VZ5639. Do you copy?”

 

The vox crackled for a long moment before a response came through.

 

“This is Regimental Command. Report, Lieutenant.”

 

Laidir took a deep breath before answering.

 

“Regimental, requesting immediate reinforcements and artillery. I have danger close and I am down to less then fifty percent combat strength. Enemy strength over one-thousand. We can not hold the line. Do you copy?”

 

“Lieutenant you must hold the line! We have no support to offer you at this time. The Emperor Protects.”

 

Laidir nearly cast the receiver away, when the vox crackled and a new voice boomed over the vox.

 

“Regimental Command, this is Captain Kantor, Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists. Astartes deployments are starting along your deployment lines. I will be taking Imperial control of the defense of Corinthe.”

 

A roar of engines sent Laidir’s eyes skyward. He wrenched his attention back to the Vox as he saw the Thunderhawk scream through the cloud cover, banking sharply and heading toward his position.

 

“Lieutenant Laidir!”

 

Laidir shook the shock from his head as he responded to the Astartes. “Say again, Captain.”

 

Kantor's voice took on a hard edge as it crackled over the vox network.

 

“Lieutenant, prepare to receive a full squad of Devastators, and Brother Captain Baracus. This is all I can spare to hold your flank. Do not fail Lieutenant or you will feel the wrath of the Emperor.”

 

Laidir stammered his affirmation as the ramp of the Thunderhawk lowered, skimming less than 10 meters from the ground. Laidir watched as ten of the Emperors finest leapt from the Thunderhawk like avenging demons. They were gods amongst men, towering over Laidir and the remainder of his company.

 

Laidir stood in disbelief as a walking war machine dropped from the rear of the Thunderhawk, striking the ground with the sound of a small explosion. A hulking engine of death and destruction, the Dreadnaught rose to its full height, towering over the line as it moved to take up a position on the center. It’s massive assault cannon whirling and whining in the air as it spun up. The great power fist opened and closed as promethium dripped from the heavy flamer slung under the massive power-fist.

 

Laidir stood there for long moments before a large Astartes walked over and looked down at him. The Astartes’ voice was low and hard-bitten. Had it been from a normal human’s lips, it would have been almost a growling whisper.

 

Suddenly a shout erupted from the line, the sounds of las-fire biting through the air as Laidir whirled. He could see the Orks charging from the line of trees, tearing across the cleared ground, roaring in defiance of the Imperial lines.

 

Huge greenskins lumbered in the forefront of the charge, holding great sheets of metal to shield them as they charged into the open maw of death. Bodies of greenskins and Imperials already riddled the ground from early engagements. Laidir felt a hand on his shoulder as he began to shout orders.

“Lieutenant Laidir, I am Sergeant Nigel. Keep your men on the right of Brother Captain Baracus. We will hold the left of the line.”

 

Without a word, the Marine took off. The other Marines flanked around him, setting up the array of heavy weapons as they took a defensive position. Laidir called to his men, consolidating his lines as the crackle of plasma erupted in the air, racing to the Ork lines in a ball of super heated energy.............

 

*A teaser till I can get the rest completed Thank you I hope you enjoy. Please comments critques are welcome.*

[Chapter Master Ignis Domus]

Sounds interesting. It could do with a fair bit of proofreading, but is otherwise quite good.

[Yaj]

This is still a good read.

 

I look forward to the rest.

 

On a minor personal note I try to avoid using a named chapter in a story but that's just me.

[Mr Yellow]

This is building up quite nicely, write more!

[Valin Darkblade]

Laidir raced along the line throwing guardsmen against the barricades his voice roaring above the sounds of battle. “Hold the Line Cadians, Hold the Line. The Emperor has graced us with his sons to lend their hand to the fight. Do not disgrace yourself or me, THE EMPEROR PROTECTS!” A cheer raced along the line the men taking up the call of their lieutenant as they sent a wall of las fire and missiles into the charging greenskin horde. Laidir turned bringing his rifle to bear firing into the face of a Ork sending it reeling. He took no time to watch its death throes as he scanned the line.

 

Laidir grabbed the vox opening a channel to the Space Marine Sergeant. “Lord Nigel this is Lieutenant Laidir, we have a surprise for the Xenos. The front ranks will be cut off momentarily, the trenches are rigged to blow we should have a minute of coverage to tear the Noobs apart.” The vox crackled for a moment before Laidir heard the Marines voice. “On your mark Lieutenant, blow the trenches and hold, Captain Baracus will advance and clear the forward trenches. Once the line is clear I want you to advance your men is that understood.”

 

“Affirmative my lord.” Laidir handed the vox back cursing to himself as he opened fire on the Xenos swarm. “Corporal Temlin blow the charges send them greenskins running for their lives.” A moment passed before the earth heaved in a mighty uproar as the charges ignited. Walls of flame erupted along the line engulfing dozens of greenskins immolating them to death. The stench of charred flesh wafted through the air as a chunks of dirt and grit sprinkled along the lines.

 

The Noobs stood in shock as the fire from the Imperial lines was renewed tearing into them with the vengeance of the Emperor. Laidir watched as the mighty Dreadnaught lumbered forward its flamer spewing a wall of death into the cut off Orks. Its heavy bolter sounding like glorious thunder as rounds exploded from its barrel tearing chunks out of the greenskins.

 

Laidir watched stunned as the Dreadnaught caught a greenskin by the head in its mighty claw a roar of triumph booming from Captain Baracus as he crushed the creatures head in an explosion of gore. The heavy flamer igniting, launching its corpse skyward like a flaming comet back into its own ranks.

 

Cheers broke along the line as the men held their fire watching in awe at the work of the mighty Space Marine War machine. The wall of fire created by the promethium began to dwindle and sputter as Captain Baracus cut down the last of the Greenskin Nobs.

 

Laidir grabbed the standard raising it high as he leapt over the defenses charging forward. “Come on you worthless curs we can’t live forever!” Guardsmen poured over the defenses following Laidir las fire tearing into the still stunned Ork horde. Laidir planted the Standard driving it into the earth as he slide into the trench. It smelled of charred ork and promethium the heat not yet dissipated causing rivulets of sweat to trickle down his neck.

 

A great roar erupted from the trees as the guardsmen filled the trench around him picking off Orks as they stood stunned and dazed. Laidir cursed as he saw the trees in the distance crack an bend as several Killa Kans broke free lumbering toward the lines. At their front the Warboss stood fitted inside a suit of defiled Nemesis Armor. Laidir had only heard rumors of these massive fighting machines and seen the vid logs on them, but to see one defiled by the Orks set his blood boiling.

 

The vox crackled to his right as he opened fire on the Orks as the horde renewed its assault, their courage bolstered by the sight of their own warmachines. Laidir wasted no time as he raised his rifle firing into the mass of Xenos. “Lieutenant, Lieutenant!” He turned his head only for a moment. “What private out with it I am a little busy here.” He dropped the clip slamming another home as the private began to speak.

 

“Sir, Lord Nigel says to hold the line advance if we can, he will deal with the War machines but we are not to fall back.”

 

“Who does he think we are whelps who will run at the first sign of defeat. Tell that arrogant Sergeant we will hold the line in the Emperors name. Astartes or not I will not be treated as a child or have my command belittled.”

 

Eruptions shook the ground as Lascannon fire and balls of plasma flew through the air on the leftward flank tearing into the Killa Kans. Laidir watched as Captain Baracus held the center line a stalwart bastion as Orks charged him. The heavy flamer sweeping them back as the heavy bolter erupted tearing holes in the advancing horde.

[Valin Darkblade]

Laidir cursed as the lumbering behemoth tore through the trees ripping up the ground as it moved. “STOMPA! MOVE!” Laidir grabbed the vox operator tearing the receiver from his hands.

 

“Lord Nigel this is Lt. Laidir this is a going to be a carnal house in a moment what are your orders.”

 

The Vox was silent for a moment before the Marines voice came across the line. “Lt. You will pull your men back by squads cover the withdrawal, the Orks are massing around the Stompa prepare to receive another assault as you withdrawal.”

 

Laidir watch as plasma and lascannon fire tore through the air ripping into the huge behemoth leaving one weapon a smoking ruin. His eyes alighting on the horde massing behind the behemoth warmachine.

“Affirmative m’lord may the Emperor Protect.”

 

“Emperor Protect Guardsman”

 

Laidir cast the vox back to the operator moving down the line of remaining guardsmen. “Sergeant, pull the wounded back five hundred meters. I want squads moving out at intervals. Cover each other as we pull back. The Marines will hold only so long as it takes us to move our asses.”

 

Laidir turned as he heard the bone chilling roar of the Orks advancing again. They had forgone firing at the Guardsmen and Marines preferring their traditional desire to fight up close. Laidir watch as the mighty dreadnaught opened up with its heavy flamer withering part of the horde in a wall of promethium fueled death. The screams of the dying Orks were quickly drowned out by the increasing roar of their massed charge.

 

Laidir cursed as the great Dreadnaught was quickly swallowed in a sea of green xenos. The sounds of the heavy bolters muffled as they continued to pile on the mighty War Machine. Laidir opened fire exhausting his clip, he cursed dropping the weapon snagging another from the hands of a fallen guardsmen. He watched as his men began to fall back laying down a barrage of fire as each team leap froged toward the rally point.

 

Laidir grabbed the standard firing from the hip as he ripped it from the ground. The vox operator stood beside him shooting over the roar of the Orks. “Sir, Lord Nigel says he’s pulling his Marines back they have lost three of their number. Captain Baracus is going to hold the line as long as he can.”

 

Laidir nodded, “Move your ass then Guardsmen tell the Sgt we have evacuated the position.” The guardsman followed his lead scrambling from the trench retreating toward the rally point. Laidir paused opening fire on the Ork lines, a sudden sonic boom caused him to turn his eyes skyward. Streaks of fire raced across the sky plummeting toward the ground…..

 

 

How will the Imperium of man recieve this new threat? Will the Crimson Fists survive this time? Will the bold Lt Laidir survive Corinthe?

[Valin Darkblade]

Chapter 5

 

Huge statues dedicated to the Emperor of mankind flanked the entrance to the Administratum building. Captain Kantor Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists paused for a moment his eyes scanning the small defensive force flanking the building. Multiple Heavy weapons team and guardsmen all at the ready.

 

A few looked at the Captain and the ten men of his personal guard in awe as he began the ascent up the steps. Each Marine with him was a member of his personal Sternguard, veterans of a hundred different campaigns survivors of the brutal campaign that had cost the Chapter is Fortress Monastery.

 

The Marines split off in pairs moving with cold precision to take up defensive positions around the entrance. Two Marines stayed with Captain Kantor flanking him as he took the steps toward the entrance.

 

A portly man stepped out of the building in a rush, obviously radioed about the presence of the Emperors Astartes. He was still attempting to straighten the disheveled look of his uniform as he approached Captain Kantor.

 

“I am Colonel Aineolas, I demand to know on whose authority the Astartes are seizing command when no..”

 

The man flailed as Captain Kantor gripped him by the front of his uniform lifting him up and cutting off his air way. He brought the man up to eye level, the mans hands grasping at the gauntlet as he flayed his legs.

 

Guardsmen looked on in shocked disbelief at the scene before them, their Colonel hoisted up like a rag doll for his actions. A few shifted as if to help before thinking better of it, the distinct sound of a Bolter slide slamming home quickly changing their minds.

 

Kantors voice came out in a low growl amplified by the vox unit built into his power armor as he looked into the Colonel’s face.

 

“Colonel, we are Astartes, our authority comes from the Emperor of Mankind. I will not be questioned by the likes of you, is that understood?” The man went limp in the grasp of the Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists shaking his head in acknowledgement.

 

The Colonel landed hard on his pompous *** a look of indignant, rage, and terror crossing his features. He stared for a moment at the Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists as he continued into the command center before scrambling after him.

 

“Ca-ca-Captain, the Xenos renewed their assault only a few hours ago, the second such assault today. We have held the line in nearly every sector repulsing their advances. Only the Eastern sector fell, a company of Armor was moved into the sector while reinforcements could be shifted. So far we have reclaimed the sector and are making advances to claim back part of the city.

 

Captain Kantor moved into the command center the two Marines flanking him. Their heads were on a swivel as they scanned the room. Servitors and Guardsmen paused at the entrance of the Space Marines for a moment before returning back to their work. Kantor moved across the room toward the vid display covering the distance in just a few strides. The operator looked up as the Captain’s shadow suddenly covered him. He yelped flinging himself from the chair before regaining some composure.

 

“M’lord how may I assist?”

 

“Bring up the sector display overlaid with deployment lines and assault vectors the Orks have utilized.”

 

Kantor paused as the display came up his eyes quickly scanning it before reaching out to tap the console. Markers came up with the Chapters symbol along the deployment lines of the Guardsmen.

 

“Colonel I have dispatched my Astartes along these sectors, we are stretched thin but will be able to aid your guardsmen in driving this menace back.”

 

The Colonel moved toward the display scanning the changes made by the Astartes Captain.

 

“The Emperor’s will Milord. My men will stand firm and hold the line.”

 

Kantor paused for a moment taking in the lines of assaults the Orks had previously used. He quickly reached out tapping the console activating the motion display. A hiss escaped his lips as tapped the console bringing up multiple displays. His voice a barely contained calm as he started to speak his eyes not leaving the screen. He keyed in another marker causing it to flash on the display.

 

 

“Colonel you will redeploy the remainder of your armor to this section of the line. Follow it with all armored platoons that you can spare. I will deploy along with my first company to help secure it. This is where they will push through and sweep your lines.”

 

“I beg to differ Captain, the Orks have made no advances here and it is just off the center of our lines. Multiple companies hold..”

 

Captain Kantor said nothing as his armored hand flew at the Colonel catching him flat with the back of his hand. His head snapped backwards with an audible snap the neck breaking as his face collapsed under the impact. Blood sprayed across the console and the operator who screamed and threw himself to the floor trying to avoid the ire of the Space Marine Captain.

 

The Colonel’s body lifted from the floor flying backwards into a pair of Servitors carrying ammunition crates. The Colonels body shattering the crates in a spray of splintered wood as his inert body came to rest. Officers and guardsmen looked on stunned at the sudden outburst and the dead Colonel. A few fled the room not wanting to risk the wrath of an Astartes.

 

Kantor raised his arm pointing at a Captain standing nearby, the mans face filled with shock and disbelief as he gazed at the Astartes.

 

“Please milord I, ..”

 

“Captain you are in charge of this regiment now, we are Astartes our orders are not to be questioned. The will of the Emperor flows through us, question us and you question the Emperor himself. Do I make myself clear?”

 

The Captain nodded backing away a step under the gaze of the Astartes Captain.

 

“Relay my orders to the regiment immediately”

 

The Captain turned moving quickly to the communications station. He pushed the Guardsmen out of the way picking up the vox. Kantor turned moving back toward the entrance. He had no need to verify if the Captain was doing what he was ordered, fear and intimidation were the Astartes best tools. Few questioned them and few still lived to tell the tale.

 

The vox clicked inside his helmet as he stepped from the shadows of the command center back into the sunlight. His eyes sweeping the perimeter, he smiled as he saw his Sternguard had shifted the Guardsmen’s position providing better fields of fire that overlapped all around the perimeter.

 

“Captain Kantor here proceed with transmission.”

 

 

“Sir we have unknown contacts in high orbit. They appear to be Astartes vessels but no patterns we recognize nor found in the database. They are deploying drop pods and gunships to the surface. Please advice.”

 

“We do not know all the ships of every chapter. Take an aggressive defensive formation, do not engage unless fired upon. Kantor out.”

 

He raised his head watching the multitude of fire trails streak across the sky, clear signs of descending drop pods and gunships. His Sternguard to their merit only gave the descending pods a cursory look, and smacking the few guardsmen who lost their focus.

 

Kantor sniffed the air scanning the surrounding area. His heightened senses picking up the taint of warp stench mingled with the smell of the atmospheric burn caused by so many descending ships. He clicked the safety off Dorn’s Arrow keying the squad vox to alert his fellow Marines.

The air before the admistratum began to shimmer in the sunlight, Kantor could make out five hulking forms silver in the light. He brought Dorn’s Arrow up every weapon turning to the opening flux of space, five massive terminators fully materialized.

 

“Transporters” he thought to himself

 

Kantor quickly scanned the hulking Terminators, the winged skull emblems, and the red on the right knee. Every Terminator was pristine, armor unblemished, each was loaded for close combat. Kantor counted two wielding intricately designed lightning claws, another with a massive two handed thunder hammer, his counterpart a two handed power axe that crackled with energy.

 

Each terminator stood head and shoulders above every Marine with Kantor, but the leader caught his eye. He carried a massive glaive intricately forged, the edges crackled with barely contained energy as he began to move forward. Kantor relaxed a little, recognizing the insignia as belonging to the Doom Eagles, loyal and faithful servants of the Emperor.

 

“Announce yourselves brothers. I see you are of the Doom Eagles. May I ask what brings you to Corinthe?”

 

The larger terminator turned toward Captain Kantor, the voice from inside the helmet almost monotone.

 

“War, vengeance, we are already dead.”

 

Kantor eyed the new arrivals, the sound of the dropships landing echoing in the distance. The world began to slow the noise tuning out as he eyed the new arrivals. Something was wrong, he could feel it deep in his bones. “Be wary my son.” Kantor startled for a moment at the voice in his mind. He had the same feeling now as he did when his beloved Chapter was brought to its knees and nearly destroyed. A feeling of cold ominous dread.

 

“Reactor hull breach! all forces disengage! Captain Kantor this is Admiral Alveraz we have…

 

The communication cut sharply with a resounding explosion, static filling the vox channel before it cut.

 

Kantor keyed the internal squad channel on his vox, he knew every member of his squad had heard the communication.

 

“Fall back.”

 

“We are Legion you shall not survive.”

 

Weapons came to bear as the Sternguard reacted with the experience of a thousand combats. Their weapons drawing a bead prepared to fire at the slightest provocation. The guardsmen around them stood staring in shocked disbelief as the Crimson Fists drew down on their fellow Astartes.

 

Captain Kantor looked on stunned as the Terminators raised their weapons in challenge. How had they broken through the ciphers on the chapters comms channels. Dorn’s Arrow kicked slightly as he drew down on the leader Kraken shells bursting forth from the barrels.

 

Kraken rounds erupted from Dorn’s Arrow in a slow motion dance the fiery explosion of each spent round playing out in a deadly dance. He heard the dulled sound of his Sternguard firing their own bolters, the echo of orders being issued. His mind reeled at the thought of betrayal by his own, by fellow Astartes how could this be?

 

He began to fall back even as he saw the first rounds strike and vanish, the air around the Terminator shimmered for a moment as the Kraken rounds struck. He stared in disbelief as the Terminators continued to advance their power weapons crackling with energy…..

[Valin Darkblade]

This is a rough draft for Chapter 5. It is not fully fleshed out but I have delayed posting for a little bit so I figured I should post at least this bit.

 

Comments and Critiques please. Thanks. Hope you enjoy.

[Dominicus]

Chapter 5

 

Captain Kantor strode up the steps of the administratum, the ten Marines of his personal Sternguard flanking him taking up defensive positionsaround the entrance as he strode heavily into the comms center. Two massive warriors flanked him their, bolters held at rest as they scanned the room for threats.

 

A portly man stepped out of the building, adjusting the hat upon his head and attempting to correct the disheveled look of his uniform. His eyes were rimmed with fatigue as he looked up at the Captain bearing down on him.

 

“Captain, I demand to know on whose authority are you seizing my command? I received no reque-”

 

Captain Kantor cut the man's angry tirade short, lifting the man by the front of his uniform and pulling it tight around his throat as he brought the man up to eye level. His voice, amplified by the vox unit of his power armour, came out in a low growl.

 

“We are Astartes, and our authority comes from the Emperor of Mankind. I will not be questioned by the likes of you, Colonel. Is that understood?”

 

The man struggled, his hands grasping at the gauntlet of the power armor as he shook his head in acknowledgement. Captain Kantor set the man back on his feet heavily with a loud thud. He watched as the man stumbled and fell landing hard before scrambling backwards and rising to his feet.

 

“Ca-ca-captain, if you will follow me, I shall show you the defensive lines across the city. The xenos have hit us hard, but we have managed to repel them at nearly every sector. The eastern sector was overrun this morning, but I moved a company of armor to plug the gap. Our forces have retaken the sector and pushed the lines forward.”

 

Captian Kantor watched as the man brought up the holo vid, showing the deployments of the Guardsmen through out the sector. He reached forward, tapping the console, marking the deployments of his Chapter as the man spoke.

 

“Colonel, I have dispatched my Astartes along these sectors," Kantor grumbled as he swept his hand in indication of the markers he had just placed. "We are stretched thin, but we will be able to aid your guardsmen in driving this menace back.”

 

The Colonel nodded as he looked into the helmeted face of the Crimson Fists' Chapter Master, a look of both awe and terror etched in his features.

 

“As you wish m’lord. I am here to serve the Emperor.”

 

Captain Kantor continued viewing the map, bringing up the overlay of previous pushes by the ork horde. He touched the console, bringing up a section of map, a hiss escaping his lips as he viewed the unit deployments. He did not turn to the Colonel as he began to speak, his eyes solely fixed on the display.

 

“Colonel, you will redeploy the remainder of your armor to this section of the line," Kantor barked as he stabbed at the console, placing another marker. "Follow it with all armored platoons that you can spare. I will deploy along with my First Company to help secure it.”

 

“M’lord, you can't be serious," the Colonel replied suddenly, all formality forgotten. "That is just off the center of our lines, the most secure.” Kantor's back-hand caught the Colonel full in the face, cutting him off midsentence. The sound of bone shattering filled the air as the man's face erupted in blood. The impact sent the Colonel's body flying across the room, crashing into several horror-struck adjutants. Stunned officers could only look on as the servants struggled to free themselves from the Colonel's large corpse. Kantor raised his fist, pointing to a visibly shaken Captain.

 

“Captain, you are in charge of this regiment now. We are Astartes. Our orders will not be questioned. The will of the Emperor flows through us, question us and you question the Emperor himself. Do I make myself clear?”

 

The Captain nodded his head vigorously in agreement, picking up the box and relaying orders throughout the regiment, occasionally turning his head to stare fearfully at the Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists. Kantor turned back to his men as the vox in his helmet clicked. He keyed the vox.

“Speak,” Kantor ordered into his vox-mic, visibly trying to settle his choleric rage.

“Sir we have unknown contacts in high orbit. They look to be Astartes vessels, and they are deploying drop pods and gunships to the surface. Please advise.”

 

“Take a holding pattern, be prepared to fire if need be. Kantor out.”

 

He stepped outside, looking up as the fire trails of the descending drop ships began to fill the air. His Sternguard, to their merit, only gave the descending pods a cursory look. Kantor sniffed the air, scrunched his nose in disgust and pulled his bolter up. He could smell the taint of the warp and the scent of atmospheric burn nearby.

 

The space before the steps of the building began to shimmer in the bright daylight. Kantor could make out five hulking forms in the flux of space. He brought Dorn's Arrow to bear as the figures began to materialize. Five hulking Terminators, obviously equipped solely for close-combat, lightning claws hanging at their side and storm shields and thunder hammers held rigidly in hand, stepped forward. He relaxed as he recognized the insignia on the shoulder pads.

 

The largest of the terminators stepped into the lead, his head moving side to side as he took in the scene. Something was wrong. Kantor cued the vox twice to his squad. Slowly they began to fall back up the steps to the command centre, bolters held ready to snap up at a moments notice.

 

“Announce yourselves brothers. I see you are of the Doom Eagles. I am Pedro Kanotr, Lord Hellblade, and Master of the Crimson Fists. May I ask what brings you to Corinthe?”

 

The larger Terminator turned toward Captain Kantor, the voice from inside the helmet almost monotone.

 

“War, vengeance. We are already dead.”

 

The world slowed around Kantor as he studied the new arrivals, the vox from the orbital ship crackling in his ear as the Terminator spoke again.

 

“You are Kantor?”

 

His eyes never left the hulking Terminator. Something did not feel right to him; the insignia was correct, the look of the armour right, but something tore at the pit of his stomach. He had not felt this way since the near destruction of the legion all those years ago. A feeling of ominous dread began to grip the pit of his stomach.

 

“Reactor hull breach! All forces disengage! Captain Kantor, this is Admiral Alveraz, we have…

 

The communication cut sharply with a resounding explosion, static filling the vox channel before it cut.

 

Captain Kantor took in the scene before him quickly, his mind racing. He clicked the safety off of Dorn’s Arrow, shifting into a firing position as he stepped back, keying the internal suits comms.

 

“Fall back”

 

“We are Legion, you shall not survive.”

 

Captain Kantor looked on, stunned, as the Terminators raised their weapons in challenge. How had they broken through the ciphers on the Chapter's comms channels? Dorn’s Arrow kicked slightly as he drew down on the leader, Kraken shells bursting forth from the barrels.

 

Time slowed for him as he watched the fiery explosion of the rounds as they left the ancient weapon. He saw his Sternguard raise their weapons. Every Astartes in his command group had heard the emergency communication. They had been betrayed; betrayed by their own brothers. His thoughts raced as he thought of another loyal Astartes Chapter turning from the Emperor.

 

He began to fall back even as he saw the first rounds strike and vanish, the air around the Terminator shimmering for a moment as the Kraken rounds struck. He stared in disbelief as the Terminators continued to advance, their power weapons crackling with potent energy…..

 

A few points:

1)Commas

You need to see where you have to put a break in the sentence. read it aloud. If you think that someone would put a break in there, put a break there.

2)Be descriptive

Something I had to learn the hard way - through critiquing on this forum. Just throwing in the occasional description of what he sounds like when he's talking, what he's doing, etc., makes a big impact on your writing. Try to place the reader in the story using your description of the surroundings of your character

 

All of my major corrections to your work have been bolded. Otherwise, I just added in commas here and there, capitalized, spaces, etc.

ALWAYS DOUBLE-CHECK YOUR GRAMMAR!!

 

 

Cheers, Dominicus

[Valin Darkblade]

Rough Draft of Chapter Five has been edited and resubmited for your enjoyment. I believe it flows a little better now and gives a better scene then the prior version.

[Dominicus]

Rough Draft of Chapter Five has been edited and resubmited for your enjoyment. I believe it flows a little better now and gives a better scene then the prior version.

Alright.

 

It does paint a better picture. In some areas.

 

But the main issue I have with this piece of writing is your use of commas and capitalization.

 

Commas

-Should be used to break up a sentence where, in real life, a person might put a break. Read the two sentences below OUT LOUD and decide which on sounds better:

 

1) The Captain strode into the command centre a look of anger on his face as he strode heavily towards the command console.

2)The captain strode into the command centre, a look of anger playing across his features as he walked heavily towards the console.

 

The second one should sound better with the break and the better description.

 

As well, the word "Armor" should not be capitalized unless you are referring to the as the "14th Armored Regiment" or such.

 

 

Cheers

[jaxjace]

also NOB not NOOB. i havent been fighting greenskins this long to know those bastards ^^ Cheers.

 

 

*whisper* dont kill Kantor, hes a bit of a badass.

[2.71828]

Oh, don't worry too much about the editing - that's what editors are for - a good entertaining read!

[Valin Darkblade]

Chapter 6

 

Trails of fire plummeted from the sky, a rain of impending death casting a blazing shadow over the ground. Lieutenant Laidir watched them for a moment before opening fire into the seething mass of greenskins. “Thank the Emperor” he thought to himself, more of the Emperor’s finest would be joining the battle. The arrival of the Crimson Fists had saved his command, with out them, his eyes swept over the battlefield littered with the bodies of dozens of dead Guardsmen, he would be laying dead with his men. Now more of the Astartes were joining the battle by the Emperors blessing.

 

Laidir whispered a prayer to the God Emperor, his men had been decimated, he knew it was the same with every Imperial Guard unit across the planet. The Ork Waaggh that had descended on Corinthe was massive and to much for the Guard alone to handle. Perhaps the arrival of more Astartes was an omen that they would live out the day, perhaps this was a good omen

 

Laidir could feel a breezing picking up as he surveyed the remains of his command, the air brought with it the stench of death, scorched ozone, and fear. The company banner caught the wind snapping in the air, it stood where he had planted it at the apex of the three surviving bunkers. The banner was tattered, filled with poke marks and burn holes from the days long combat, but it had not fallen. His men had done him proud, he watched the medic move amongst the men patching severe wounds and offering comfort where he could.

 

He shook his head before turning back to the battlefield, he had less then a company remaining. Each man battered and wounded from a day of fighting that had no end in site. They had dug into two of the permecrete bunkers mounting every surviving heavy weapon to cover the killing field. Overlapping fields of fire from the heavy bolters, a surviving lascannon, and one auto cannon. He prayed it would be enough, they were exhausted but each man was determined to survive. He thanked the Emperor for the cache of ammo they had discovered, each man was either empty or on their last magazine when they fell back.

 

Laidir watched the ponderously slow movement of the Stompa across the battlefield, greenskins swarming around it. The Space Marines had left its main weapon a smoking ruin before pulling back but it was still deadly. He smiled a little as he watched it fire on their position the round going wide, at least a stray missile had damaged its targeting relay. Laidir notice several large orks moving to the fore of the horde roaring in their brutish language, slowly the horde began to move seething as it prepared to assault. With a massive roar the Orks surged forward across the battlefield.

 

“Prepare to repel an assault!” Laidir shouted, his order picked up and relayed down the line. As one the swarm of greenskins surged forward racing along the open ground. Laidir knew they would not stop until they were dead or the Guardsmen were. “Hold your fire till they close.!” The range was to far yet for his own men to inflict serious damage, but he saw fire streak from the bunker the Astartes had sheltered inside.

 

Plasma and Lascannon fire filled the air leaving the smell of scorched ozone as they flew toward the Ork lines tearing gaps into the raging sea of green. Heavy bolter fire began to fill the air as well, the mighty dreadnaught opening fire along side his brother Astartes. 500 meters, 400, Laidir marked the range as the greenskins continued to push forward the gaps filling with more of the foul Xenos. The Stompa opened fire again trying to come to bear on the Astartes position its rounds flying wide tearing up large gouges from the earth.

 

300, 250 “Have at them boys OPEN FIRE!!” Laidir shouted his voice erupting as he began to fire on the greenskins. “For the Emperor lads. We stand here or we perish.” Lasgun fire erupted from the bunkers tearing into the Orks. The tide slowed stunned by the overwhelming fire poured into their ranks. Laidir fired till the clip ran dry dropping it in one deft motion as he slammed another home.

 

Laidir paused looking skyward as he heard the scream of descending drop pods. One was out of control its descent to sharp an angle to land properly, he flinched at the sound of screeching metal as the drop pod slammed into the side of the Stompa. The velocity of the drop pod adding power to its strike as it tore through the massive hull of the Stompa, small explosions rippled over the surface before a massive fire ball erupted engulfing the entire war machine.

 

The wall of flames washed over the rear of the Ork lines cutting short the bellows of pain and the sounds of the dying. Laidir heard a cheer erupted from the Imperial lines as his men watched the destruction of the Xenos. His words filled the air galvanizing his resolve as he opened fire. “Fire drive them back lads!” The remaining Orks milled around in confusion for a moment before resuming the charge toward the Imperial lines.

 

Laidir laughed as he watched them get scythed down by the wall of unrelenting fire from the Imperials. It took only moments before they began to break falling back over each other to escape the death that awaited them. Despite their lack of intelligence and constant need for war Orks still held a survival instinct like any other race.

 

“Hold, conserve your ammo.” Laidir moved down the line as the Orks retreated checking on his men, he slapped a private over the head as he moved. “I said hold your fire guardsmen. You won’t do any good at this range, conserve what you have they will be back.” Laidir knelt down beside a trooper who was holding his left arm as the medic worked to patch him. The wound was deep half the flesh of the upper arm torn away.

 

The medic looked up for a moment as the Lieutenant knelt down. “He will live for now sir, though I am afraid he may lose the arm if we don’t get him to a medical center.” Laidir nodded, “Emperor provides guardsmen, if it’s his will we will survive and get him out of here.”

 

Suddenly shouts filled the bunker, Laidir turned looking out over the field as his men opened fire. The Orks were surging toward their lines again, this time though in disarray. They were scrambling over each other fleeing in what Laidir could only describe as terror. He gazed over the field toward the burning Stompa his jaw dropping for a moment.

 

It couldn’t be, how could they have survived. Laidir watched as a line of silver behemoths walked from the flames like mythical phoenix’s. He knew the other drop pods had landed behind the other but by the Emperor how.

 

A line of Astartes stood behind the Orks close to twenty of the Emperors finest. Their weapons howling like death as they fired upon the Orks driving them toward the Imperial lines. They moved slowly across the field their actions methodical, moving from cover as they drove the Orks on. Every round striking its target with methodical precision.

 

Laidir stood stunned watching the turn of events as his men opened fire pouring death into the oncoming horde. “Sir, SIR!” Laider shook his head clearing the fog as he looked to the man shouting at him. “Speak”

 

“Sir command has been cut off, transmission jammed. One word got through.” The man paused for a moment looking at the Lieutenant. “Speak man spit it out.”

 

The man looked shaken to Laidir’s eyes as he spoke “Betrayed.” Laidir looked down the battlefield fear finally settling in his eyes. No they could not be, he thought. “Drive the Orks back and do not stop firing! Those are not loyal Astartes!”

 

Laidir raced from the bunker covering the distance to the one housing the Astartes. Rounds danced around his feet as he sprinted from the safety of his bunker. He dove into the Astartes bunker landing hard rolling back to his feet, he gasped as he turned finding a bolt pistol mere inches from his face.

 

“Lieutenant, it is unwise and poor for your health to surprise an Astartes.” spoke Sergeant Nigel. “My apologies my lord but I could no longer trust our communications network. We have been betrayed, command sent a transmission that was jammed saying we were betrayed. I must know, have you received word from your Captain?”

 

Nigel shook his head, “No transmissions have been cut off.”

[Valin Darkblade]

This is a rough rough draft of Chapter six not yet completed but its been some time since I posted. It needs some editing and fleshing out more but I figured I would put another bit out there for everyone. I hope you enjoy.

 

Also though I have ideas of what will happen to Laidir I would like to see what thoughts are. So Live or Die? Might just change how I write him up or what happens never know.:)

 

Thanks again all for reading. As this is the day before the turkey gets carved everyone have a good Thanksgiving, and remember things you shouldn't say but get away with on thanksgiving.

 

"You sure it will all fit? Of course I am just open the legs and let me stuff it in."

[Havokas]

im just trying to help your writing style here https://www.dlsweb.rmit.edu.au/lsu/content/...s_LL/index.html

 

paragraphs need to be more than two sentences, you're breaking everything up for no reason at all which leads to awkward pauses in reading.