Adapt or die...

[astartes88]

The mission had failed... He slowly began to crawl to the river.

 

The war was lost... At the edge he removed his helmet, the stench of defeat and loss spewed forth.

 

His company destroyed... Cupping his hand he scooped up some water.

 

His Heart shattered...The water flowed smoothly down his throat.

 

 

The captain had held true to the stubborn unwillingness to accept defeat, a trait shared by all scions of Dorn. the seventh company of the Emperors Warbringers chapter came to cleanse the world of kamiletr of the taint of chaos. That taint was centered on none other than the vile Iron Warriors. The mere mention of those traitors boiled the blood of every member of the company. Intelligence had indicated that the war host was small less than sixty of the heretics. The captain chose to employ a drop pod assault.

 

He remembered his sergeants words very clearly, " Brothers! The captain has chosen the drop pod assault." He grinned and it was contagious." Our squad will be landing on the left flank. We are the shield for the company. We out number them by 40 warriors. Remember never underestimate an opponent...More importantly never underestimate an Astarte’s. Now look here at the display. I will not repeat myself."

 

He sighs as he remembers how it all went to hell in a hand basket... suddenly he hears voices up stream. Rough, graded and malicious voices, Iron warriors, the enemy. He dons his helmet and begins to make his way into the brush careful to not leave any sign he has done so.

 

Waiting with rage barely controlled, soon they would pass and he would kill each of them.

 

They continue to bicker at each other insulting one another like the rag tag group that they are.

"You incompetent fool! How did you let one of them escape?" The largest and clearly older brute yelled at a very young looking warrior in grey. "Better yet how did you get chosen to become one of us? Completely incompetent.

 

"I ought to take that fancy arm of yours old man. You dare insult me? I was chosen by the warsmith himself for the honor of ascending above mortality. You agog." The third warrior delivered a devastating right cross to the young warrior to shut him up.

 

"Stupid child shut your mouth when your betters chastise you."