Cross Post from Ultramarines Forum's

[Brother Captain Achilles]

Hey All, I posted this in the Ultramarines Forums the other day and it didn't get alot of attention so I figured I would try with a larger Venue.

 

 

 

Death, The field was rank with it, every one of his augmented senses recoiled with insult from what surrounded him. The torn and stripped carcasses of the belligerents littered the field. The cracked and empty shells of tanks and monster alike scattered about. They had not bothered to leave much behind, their hunger had been utter and desperate. His brothers, many of whom he had known for centuries; were suddenly gone. “How was this possible? The ENTIRE armored column!” his thoughts were interrupted by a surveyor skull that buzzed up to him as it had finished its third sweep of the combat zone. It projected a holographic list names and an inventory of equipment that was salvageable. There had only been the small ones around when he had first arrived. Vile little serpents known as “Rippers” to the laymen of the Imperium’s Military.  They had been skittering from corpse to cadaver gorging themselves on fetid and rotting flesh. His brothers cleansed all of the Xenoforms from the field with fire and hate, a squad of the Emperors finest; clad in Tactical dreadnought armor made short work of the smaller beasts. One of the larger ones known as a “gaunt” had charged brother Scipio, its cry was shrill and quick as his chainfist bisected it lengthwise. But it did not matter, the leader beasts were nowhere to be found. All they had left behind was a cloying haze that permeated the very air they were breathing and seemed to prod at the edges of the Astartes conciousness.

“Sergeant, We have found him.” Announced Prandus. Brother Prandus and The Sergeant moved slowly, to the untrained eye they look proud and tall. They were Ultramarines, Paragons of Gulliman's legacy. The Adeptus Astartes; Space Marines, Each one of them had seen centuries of war against aliens of all shapes and sizes,the raw madness of the immaterium, their own brothers... thrice damned and eternally forsaken; the worst things that the universe could throw at humanity. None of that mattered, nothing left the Sergeant with such a sense of foreboding as the aftermath of a Tyranid attack. Animals... that’s what they are, mindless creatures of pure instinct. But he checked himself for this thought. He knew better, he knew that these fiends from the dark were far more than they look at first glance. There was a cruel cunning to them; they knew how to fight, how to bring battle to even the greatest of warriors. But worse than their aptitude in battle was their presence on the field, when you met eyes with the Largest of their kind; there was always the feeling of something looking back at you. Not in the beasts own glare, but behind it; lurking somewhere in the void and merely playing puppeteer to the horror before you.

    “Here he is Brother Sergeant, what's left of him.” Prandus pointed out to a large form in the field. As The Sergeant approached he could begin to make out more and more detail, the familiar hues of that blue ceramite sparked a number of emotions within the Sergeant; Pride, Respect; but those feelings slowly washed away before the tide of sorrow that now filled him. Codicier Haliat had been in charge of this force, he had seen the fiends while scrying the surface of the warp; their presence an unnatural darkness against the myriad colors and shapes of the raw immaterium. He had been a wise leader and had many times given the Sergeant wise counsel. All that remained of this hero of the Imperium... were bones and rent flesh. The breastplate of his armor had been pierced cleanly by one of the creatures talons. Only the larger Tyranids could bring enough strength down to pierce a suit of Terminator armor, but the Sergeant didn’t had no doubt which monster had done this. It had been him, “The” Beast; a winged monstrosity nearly 20 feet tall. It resembled a winged serpent, but instead of some limbless jape of a creature it had four massive talons that is used to rip and tear through anything it desired. It had killed Haliat, then it feasted upon his still warm body; for the Codicier was missing his head and right arm.

finally a third figure approached the silent pair of Terminators as they gazed upon the corpse of their former commander. Brother Apothecary Telemachus knelt to examine the Librarian, he stopped suddenly at the base of where Haliat’s neck had been. “I am sorry my Brothers.” The Apothecary’s words brought the Sergeant up from his thoughts The Beast made feast of more than just Haliat’s mind... his progenoids are unrecoverable.”Further insult... Haliat’s geneseed would die with him. He would not be able to ensure future generations of Brothers whom will be sorely needed to replace the Chapters losses on this day. He took one last look upon his old friend before voxing for Gaius, a quiet and dour figure, in charge of salvaging and repairing all of the equipment and tools of war that now littered the area.  Mark 7 Powered armor, Godwyn Pattern Bolters, Tanks, ammunition... all left behind in the wake of “their” hunger. Apollyon activated his communicator and began to speak. “Gladius of Prandium, This is Sergeant Apollyon. I repeat, Gladius of Prandium... This is a priority black vox call. Comm authorization theta-1” The minute between his message and its response felt like an eternity. “We are receiving you Sergeant, This is Captain Sicarius. What do you have for me?” Apollyon took a final glance at the grim sight before speaking. “Strike Force Haliat has been annihilated sir, no survivors. Much of the equipment is salvageable, and we have recovered the progenoids of twelve of our brothers.” The vox emitted a dull hum as Apollyon waited for his commanders response. “Understood Sergeant, clear the area and await extraction.” Confusion painted the face of the Terminator. This ground was empty and the danger seemingly gone. Their Brothers had died trying to hold it against the Tyranid assault “Sir, are we not attempting to secure the area?” This time the vox chirped with response almost immediately. “Negative Brother, things have... developed. I will relay more information when necessary, Sicarus out.”

    

In Orbit the Gladius of Prandium’s hull was bathed in the reflected light of the Moon Ferros it now orbited. Just as the conversation between the two Astartes had come to its conclusion, the very reality of space tore wide open. A sickening onslaught of colors and shapes poured forth, The warp tasting a reality it hated and reviled yet lusted eternally to violate. A black shape slid forth from the warp, its hull covered in hoar frost from the psychic energies of warp things that had tried to penetrate its Gellar Field. As the portal closed behind it the ship seemed to disappear into the void of space. Pure black, not even running lights blinking out against the darkness. Slowly the ship came drift alongside the Gladius; its form an aesthetic expression of 8 kilometers of suspicion and hate. It extended a long umbilical tube and made contact just below the parade hangar of the ultramarine vessel. Air hissed out as the locking seal came into place. He had watched the two ships connect from a monitor of the bridge. Captain Sicarius strode to the exit at the back of the bridge, his gait long and quick. As he awaited the elevator to the lower decks one of the Marines standing guard at the door began speaking. “What troubles you my Lord, do these unexpected visitors frighten you?” It was an old joke, one Sicarius and his sworn bodyguard Helios had long pitched between one another. “I Know No Fear old friend... but only a fool keeps the Inquisition waiting.”