Raid on The Valiant Rhee

[Armond]

Short, short story from Brother Wonsul. If you read my IA *HERE* you will find him mentioned in there! Let me know what you think!

 

 

Date: 239.M41

Event: Raid on The Valiant Rhee

Account given by Brother Wonsul (former Squad Sergeant of 2nd Squad, 4th Company)

 

The Ironclad Dreadnought stood silent. All manner of honors and renown decorated its massive frame. In audience were the newest members of the 4th Company as well as their respective squad leaders. They were to be granted the privilege to hear Brother Wonsul’s account of the infamous raid on The Valiant Rhee. The silence in the chamber was absolute, all awaiting the account of that infamous attack. His booming voice was amplified by his vox speakers, and he spoke…

 

By decree of Gukseon Yushin it was our honored duty to provide transport security for resources to be sent to the Forge World of Urdesh. As required of all Companies, security of routes to and from our allies of the Mechanicum was to be carried out by a full Company of battle brothers for a period of two decades, Terran standard time. At the time, a frigate laden with adamantium was to begin travel to Urdesh as per agreement made with the Mechanicum for their support at the founding of the Chapter.

 

We would provide escort while utilizing our Strike Cruiser, The Valiant Rhee. Standard protocol would be followed, and there was no foreseen threat. The Orks in the sector had been successfully repelled and controlled since the esteemed Gukseon Mhutai Khan’s passing. What follows is perhaps the most nefarious of acts to be committed against our beloved Chapter since its inception.

 

While in movement through the void, the frigate in our care suffered a power failure. Emergency systems allowed for a vox to be sent to our cruiser. Its message was a simple corroboration of the power loss. Within a minute’s time, a second message was transmitted, but we were unable to receive at that moment due to suffering from our own power loss. Back-up systems were coming online and at that moment a vox-all message was received by an unknown source. The message was, “Ave Dominus Nox...” The voice delivering the message was a whisper, no more than a movement of air had the words not been picked out.

 

Captain Soone of the 4th issued a call to battle stations for all hands. That was when the first impacts were felt. My station, as well as the rest of 2nd squad’s was that of the lower deck’s armory. We were to safeguard the contents and to ensure it remained untouched by enemy forces. We took defensive positions along the corridors leading to the armory and sat in silence listening to the vox. We felt the tremors of enemy guns breaking against our shields but heard no reply from our own guns.

 

Brother Li broke silence and gave voice to my own concerns, “Brother-Sergeant, what is happening? I have felt no answer from our own ship’s weapons in reply to being attacked. I feel as though we are being toyed with and I like it not.”

 

I commanded that vox discipline be maintained and to uphold silence. Moments later the Company vox channel came alive with exclamations of being under attack, bolter fire could be heard in the background drowning out the words. Then the clearest message heard yet was broadcast across our channels, “Brothers, we are under attack by the traitorous spawn of the accursed Curze, steel yourselves and deliver the Emperor’s punishment.” The declaration was delivered by our beloved Captain, and it was the last I heard of him…

 

I contemplated moving the 2nd and attempting to make contact with the enemy, but to do so would surely leave the armory unguarded. The thought left my mind as quickly as it entered; the footsteps of power armor could then be heard traversing the adjacent walkway. My enhanced sense of hearing, further enhanced by my helm picked out the sounds of servos and humming given off by power armor. I sent a squad-wide vox to ready ourselves and prepare for contact. It sounded as though our attackers were lacking discipline with their rapid movement, but this was to be expected from the treasonous ones.

 

Surprise was etched in their posture as the first members of the opposition rounded the corner; they seemed not to have expected an opposing force in waiting. In the moments before reactions could be made, their identity was confirmed, traitorous whoresons of the Eighth Legion! The red-winged skull of the Night Lords emblazoned upon their pauldron and the telltale signs of heretics adorned their power armor. The order to engage was given in that moment, and a cacophony of noise then followed. Bolter fire spit across the expansive hallway, and in mere seconds three of the raiders were scythed as grain.

 

That was when we suffered our first casualty. Return fire hit Brother Jeung and the junction of his helmet and chest plate, almost completing detaching his head from his neck. What followed next was a loud chatter of heavy bolter fire originating from Brother Tong, his legs spread in a braced stance. Exploding shells made direct hits on several of the raiders, tearing through their dark armor. A handful more fell, and then Brother Tong’s rapid fire fell silent, I glanced back to confirm what my helm was relaying to me. A flat line of his life signs showed on my squad interface as his bulk thundered to the floor.

 

As if on cue, the enemy closed in on us, assassin’s blades and other close combat weapons clutched in their hands. I took in their numbers, more than two squads worth still stood. We were down two brothers bringing us to eight. Perhaps they believed us to be easy prey, but their haste to close with us would prove to be the great equalizer. Our constant training in the honored art of Hwarangdo combined with the dimensions of the hall would indeed grant us a boon.

 

My chainsword met the clumsy swing of a chain axe, our teeth rebounding and breaking apart as they ate at each other. As my opponent’s body turned ever so slightly, attempting to gut me with a swing for my torso, I brought my powerfist under in a devastating uppercut. As my fist made contact with the blade moving towards my midriff, it destroyed it and the hand wielding it. We broke apart, taking each other in, his body language betraying astonishment and disbelief. I grinned behind my helm, his hesitance would cost him. With only one arm and no distance between us, I initiated contact once again. My fist connected with his helm and then his right pauldron, both breaking apart with ease. He ceased to oppose me, felled by my blow.

 

To my left and right my brothers were engaged with the rogues. We stood a full five-wide; to my left Brother Yi and Brother Xiang, while to my right fought Brother Baek and Brother Taegu. Brothers Seon, Li, and Cheul stood ready to join the press should one of their valiant brothers fell to the fiends. We pressed forward and the enemy scattered as mice, filling the hole they left burst the promethium-rich flame engulfing the brothers to the left of me. I raged within, realizing that all sense of honor died with these dogs when they turned away from the Emperor’s Light. In a trained move, I kneeled, dropped my chainsword and took up my fallen foe’s chain axe. In that same movement I gunned the blade to life and launched it in a sideways throw towards the flamer-wielding scum. It caught him on the upper right arm, its monomolecular teeth severing it; the flamer hit the deck with a crash, still attached to him by the feed tube. Securing my own weapon again, I looked to Brother Cheul making visual contact with him.

 

As if reading my thoughts, Brother Cheul fired his bolter at the promethium tank exposed. The firestorm that followed enveloped seven of the betrayers along with the wielder, melting the ceramite and the flesh and bone beneath.

 

Through the flames and clouds of smoke a midnight-clad, wing-helmed marine leapt. He impaled Brother Cheul through the torso on his Warp-tainted sword. In a final act of defiance, Brother Cheul fired his bolter at close range into his pelvis before perishing. His killer slumped atop of Brother Cheul, super-human healing trying to catch up to the trauma caused by the mass-reactive shells. Another brother lost…

 

Our squad reduced to the numbers of a demi-squad, renewed our undertaking. I voxed to my brothers to redouble their efforts and to readdress the enemy. The crash of weapon on weapon permeates the air; the traitors furious and frantic at the same time, and my brothers-in-arms answering with trained reactions. I hear the magnified scream of what seems to be the leader’s commands over the bedlam, trying to restore some semblance of discipline to his forces. I begin taking purposeful steps towards the source, felling another Night Lord with a practiced swing as I move. I have locked with another of them, his reactions more skillful and capable than the brothers I have already dispatched.

 

Our weapons crash together over and over, both of us trying to find an opening in the other’s defense. I hold back my powerfist, awaiting an opportunity to strike. I realized that to commit too early would leave me open to a counterstroke. His first and final mistake was an overzealous overhand chop with his double-handed chainsword. I side-stepped swiftly, his helm came level with mine realizing his mistake, and mere milliseconds later my fist’s energy field makes initial contact with his head. Never hesitating, I crushed his helm ending his treasonous existence.

 

I noted Brother Baek and Seon dispatching two more of them. Survey of the hall showed eight Night Lords standing and five of us ready to continue the fray. It seems the enemy recognized their losses, and chose to disengage putting space between us. We pressed forward once again, launching a counterattack, Brother Taegu extirpating another of their number.

 

Three of the murderers, including their craven leader, pulled their mag-locked bolters from their hips. They then proceeded to open fire on us, using their own raid members as shields. Brothers Seon and Yi were felled as well as another of their number. I myself was hit, four shots registering, and then a fifth struck my helm rendering it ineffective. Dropping the chainsword to the ground, I tore my helm from my head, allowing me to view the enemy with my own eyes. A momentary self-assessment showed 2 penetrating shots; one in the chest and one in the thigh. My gene-enhanced body was already working to clot and repair the damage while combat stims were being pumped into my bloodstream.

 

The bolter fire ceased and the sounds of magazines being dropped could be heard. “Into them,” I screamed, trying to close the distance before they could bring their soon to be reloaded bolters to bear on us. Leaving my chainsword on the ground to conserve precious moments, I crossed the floor in an instant and shoulder-charged one of them buffeting him into his bolter-wielding brethren. The three of us crashed to the floor in disarray. I flailed into their mass, using the anarchy to my advantage. My powerfist pulverized the both of them. I leapt to my feet, and saw to my dismay my three remaining brothers lifeless. Their lives bought me my own. All that stood in the aftermath was I, their cur of a leader and his last remaining lackey.

 

Closer observation proved that the leader was untouched, however his underling proved to be badly injured. He was weaponless and crashed to his knees, both hands attempting to staunch the blood loss. His body unable to endure the strain, he fell to the ground inert.

 

“How unfortunate,” a harsh whisper expressed. Looking from the fallen bodies to the speaker I noted the absence of his helm. Pale white skin and emotionless black pits for eyes characterized his face. Mutation was not evident on his face, nor was any markings I thought typical of a traitor Marine present. His face betrayed noble lineage, but the sneer on his lips showed obvious contempt. He turned his head side to side, taking in the scene, “It would seem we two are all that stands. I must commend you on your efforts, and those of your fallen brothers,” the final word spit with contempt.

 

My every fiber called out for his death, and the urge to engage was never more present. I could feel the effects of the battle stims wearing off, and my two wounds seriousness was telling. One of my lungs had collapsed as well as there being other internal damage. My thigh was stiff, able to support my weight, but sudden movement may prove to injure me further. “You have lost this battle cur,” I replied. “The Emperor’s will was done, and we have decimated you.”

 

Laughter spilled from his mouth, grating against my ears. “Have you no knowledge of what has occurred? You stand alone! You are all that is left of this ship’s occupants! The rest of my number will be arriving shortly, but they will not find you standing…” He slid a wondrous blade from the scabbard upon his hip. Obviously a trophy from a previous raid, for what unworthy being could possess it? Its intricate hilt was decorated with details most associated with the esteemed Ultramarines. His threat hung in the air mere moments before he began to make his way towards me.

 

“You will be denied this victory disgraced son of Curze; you will find that I am not easy prey.” I retrieved my chainsword from the floor, keeping my eyes upon him.

 

“Perhaps you are right thin-blood, an adjustment shall be made.” As his proclamation spat forth, he suddenly stooped and gripped a bolter. With no other course of action present, I charged forward with the powerfist shielding my face and chainsword activated. Two shots fired and then the telltale clicks of an empty magazine. A shot struck me in the right pauldron and another in the chest. The pauldron exploded and shards of ceramite embedded themselves into the right side of my face. Loss of vision in my right eye and lack of hearing from my right ear followed. My chest plate absorbed the shot to the chest, detonating and splitting. I continued my mad dash forward.

 

The crackle of power weapons clashing filled the air as my fist met his sword. His next strike met the teeth of my sword, eating them up, and eventually sundering the weapon in two. The traitor followed up with a vicious horizontal strike, I parried using the remaining remnants of my chainsword. He recovered and assumed a position of attack while I dropped the now ineffectual weapon and committed to the unexpected. I bolted forward, powerfist readied and prepared to strike. In anticipation of a clumsy reaction, I opened the fingers of the powerfist, and was rewarded with contact with the powersword. Closing my fingers around its blade, I then stepped in and executed an over the shoulder toss. My foe maintained his instinctual grip on the blade, which would prove to be his undoing but would also prove to my own as well.

 

I leapt atop him once he crashed onto the body-littered floor. I thundered an elbow into his face and heard the crack of ceramite as it met his skull. A second blow followed and I felt his grip loosen on the weapon. I failed to yield and continued to rain down strikes upon his head until he no longer struggled, his face no longer recognizable in the aftermath. I then attempted to rise to my feet. I glanced downwards, and I had been run through.

 

With much effort, I pulled the blade from my chest. He had pierced my primary heart. The trauma done to me forced my Sus-an Membrane to put me into a state of suspended animation, and then I knew no more.

 

As one, the whole room knelt with bowed heads to pay respects to their lost brothers, and to honor the efforts and account of Brother Wonsul. “Rise my brethren… Honor me not with knees bent, but with devotion to your duties as the Emperor’s servants and as a fellow brother of the Celestial Tigers.”

[Armond]

No criticism? I am just seeing if it seems like a good telling, or perhaps needs some serious work. I eventually want to do something longer based on my Chapter.

[Olis]

Alright, I'll bite. :)

 

In a trained move, I kneeled, dropped my chainsword and took up my fallen foe’s chain axe. In that same movement I gunned the blade to life and launched it in a sideways throw towards the flamer-wielding scum. It caught him on the upper right arm, its monomolecular teeth severing it; the flamer hit the deck with a crash, still attached to him by the feed tube. Securing my own weapon again, I looked to Brother Cheul making visual contact with him.

 

As if reading my thoughts, Brother Cheul fired his bolter at the promethium tank exposed. The firestorm that followed enveloped seven of the betrayers along with the wielder, melting the ceramite and the flesh and bone beneath.

 

Two things here: 1) What was the point of dropping his chainsword and using an enemy chainaxe? It makes no sense as it brings no obvious advantage and yet wastes time. 2) If the brother was close enough to strike in melee, then he (and presumably his squad, as they sound like they are still in a line-abreast formation) would also have been caught in the firestorm.

 

 

That's pretty much it for critique, I think. Hope this helps.

[Armond]

Good point, I need to make the reason more clear. Celestial Tigers, if possible, try to keep their weapons. They believe the weapon is an extension of themselves and so maintaining and staying in possession of their weapon is integrated into their doctrine. I need to find a way to add that in there.

[Dominicus]

At one point there, the Night Lords leader says that Wonsul is all that remains of the Tiger's Company...was that the truth, or just a tactic by the Night Lord? because, if that was the case, Wonsul would never have been recovered to be saved and interred as a Dreadnought; the rest of the Night Lords would have finished him off.

If this is a false statement by the Night Lord to intimidate Wonsul, I feel it needs to be made more obvious that it is such.

 

Overall, well done! keep writing, you'll just get better with practice.

[Armond]

In all actuality he was the last. The untold part of the story was that the rest of the Night Lords disengaged due to the arrival of Imperium ships to investigate. The escort and frigate had already transitioned out of warp travel at a safe distance from the forge world. It was a bluff by the NL. I guess incould have elaborated more, but I chose not to so that it was unknown to the reader as to why the ships eventually made it to Urdesh. Perhaps it was better to throw some more details in there, maybe I will.

 

Thank you for the insight!