The Iron Guardians, an Iron Hand Successor +Chapter 2+

[Hyuzanriu]

      I have wanted to write some fan fiction for while and decided that writing about my Iron Hands successor chapter was probably the best way to start. The story is done for right now but I may write more about different Astartes in the chapter.

 

As Iron Falls

Chapter 1

 

     Third Captain Alyssa Maura was tired of screaming at her useless soldiers.  She had a reputation for being incredibly unforgiving.  It earned her the nickname “The Iron Maiden”.  Alyssa didn’t mind much, it just meant they feared her more than they feared the enemy.  With a service record like hers she didn’t need respect.  When a couple of deaths sends you from company commander to brigade commander fear will motivate far more than anything else.

 

      Something was wrong though.  Alyssa and her men were supposed to hold the line, and they did it well.  The issue wasn’t the objective.  The issue was holding back a hoard of humanoid machines that repair themselves, have the strength to open a Leman Russ like a hungry guardsmen does a can of rations, and doesn’t quite seem to understand the definition of the word “dead”.  All in all things could be going a lot worse than they were.

 

      A group of five of the machines was advancing on Alyssa’s command squad.  She and her bodyguards took aim with their weapons.  Plasma fire tore apart four of the Emperor forsaken things and Alyssa made a brief prayer to the Emperor that they would stay down before drawing her power sword and sneaking forward to meet the last machine as it fired on the cover her standard bearer was hiding behind.  She jumped out with a roar as she slashed at the abomination’s firing arm, cutting it clean off. Alyssa swung twice more leaving a large gash in the machine’s chest and face, its fluids splashing harmlessly off of her refractor field.  All she could do was hope the foul thing was actually dead because two of its squad members were standing up.  Alyssa pointed her plasma pistol and fired while slowing advancing on them.

 

      “Behind you!  Look out Sir!”  Alyssa turned to see the metal monstrosity rising back to its feet.  Before it had the chance to steady itself a half a dozen bolt pistol rounds found a home inside the creature’s head.  Commissar Van Lorentz looked at her and smiled.  “Fortunately for you, I didn’t die with the last commander.”  He pointed his bolt pistol past Alyssa and assisted in putting down the last to two mechanical warriors.

 

     “I just wish the last commander would have been smart enough to tell us exactly what these things are,” Alyssa responded.

 

     The Commissar only shrugged.  “Doesn’t matter much to me. I’ll shoot it till I kill it and I’ll kill it again if it doesn’t die.”  Lorentz was always so matter-of-fact.  It both pleased and annoyed Alyssa, but mostly pleased.  His matter-of-fact advisory had kept her from making more than one foolish decision since this battle started.  Sometimes she wondered if Lorentz shouldn’t have just taken command.

 

     The Commissar had clearly seen a few battles.  Half of his face was a giant burn and the opposite ear had been replaced with a giant scar that led from the back of his head to his left eye, which had been replaced with a bionic eye.  Lorentz proved to be invaluable in the last three days of non-stop fighting.  He turned his bolt pistol on the closest targets in range and let it roar.  Occasionally that closest target would be one of Alyssa’s men that decided he wanted to advance in the wrong direction.  That usually solved the problem and kept the rest of the men in line for another hour or so.

 

     Alyssa realized that something terrible must have happened if those machines were able to make it as far into Imperial lines as they did.  The line must have broken somewhere in front of her.  For the first time in her life Third Captain Alyssa Maura was losing.  Her first thought was that retreat would be the best option.

 

     Commissar Lorentz must have come to the same realization as he had reached into a supply crate and began loading a magazine into a bolter.  “Going to need more bolts for the runners,” he said in that matter-of-fact way of his while looking at Alyssa with a cold gaze.  She didn’t want to ask if that meant her.  Lorentz had quite obviously made his decision, push forward or else.  Failure meant death so she began barking orders. These machines had pushed.  It was time to push back.

 

     “Sergeant Morris take your men and…”  A loud crack resounded through the air and drowned out Alyssa’s orders.  Shorty after more cracks were heard over and over again.  Small black and red objects were coming down from the sky all over the battlefield.  Alyssa and her men let out a loud cry of joy.  The Adeptus Astartes were making planetfall...

 

 

 

EDITS: ERRORS

[deathspectersgt7]

Ok ready for the next installment.

[Hyuzanriu]

I was hoping to have the next installment up before I leave for a mandatory leadership professional development course until Oct 16.  I'll try to get an internet connection while I'm out there and upload.  If not, then there should be two or three chapters to toss up.

[Hyuzanriu]

     Chapter 2

 

     “Breaking atmosphere.  Depressurizing.  Planetfall in 35 seconds.”

 

     The voice spoke in a steady monotone over helmet-vox.  This was the first time Brother Sergeant Argos had ever made a drop into a landing zone that wasn’t already secure.  A mayday came in from another pod.  Argos thought a brief prayer for his brothers being careful not to speak.  No one speaks in battle unless giving an order, relaying information, or requesting assistance.  It made battle much smoother and far less confusing.

 

"Preparing Deathwind Missile Launcher.  Planetfall in 25 seconds.”

 

     Argos flexed his bionic left arm and glanced at the hand that had once been flesh.  “The flesh is weak,” he thought to himself.  The mantra always made him smile, thought he did not entirely agree with the words of his parent Chapter.  It was a good thing his helmet hid the smile from his brothers.  Emotions only cloud a warrior's judgement.  The missile launcher above his head spun a few slow circles on its axis and fired its ghost round.  The ghost round was nothing but an empty slot of air that was used to ensure the launcher’s firing system was working properly.  When the launcher was ready it returned to its original resting position.

 

     “Deathwind Missile Launcher activated.  Autonomic targeting system booting.  Plantefall in 20 seconds.”

 

     Argos was a bit nervous.  All he had to was secure the landing zone.  That and survive.  Survival is the most important thing to the Chapter; they were too small to lose men.  He glanced at his right shoulder.  Argos’ armor was still black, but his right shoulder and arm were painted red and his shoulder pad bore the symbol of the cult of mars, a badge of honor that marked him among the Chapter’s techmarines.

 

     There was no homage to be paid to the machine god.  The Iron Guardians did not believe in such thing as gods, though they made very good effort of concealing such a belief.  No god would allow the atrocities that fell upon the Iron Guardians to happen. If the Adeptus Mechanicus ever found out that the Chapter had denounced the Omnissiah they would lose all support.  It would spell the end of the chapter.  So they kept their minds to themselves and fought to hide their secret just as hard as they fought to live. 

 

     Survival was all that Argos and his men really had to worry about.  Securing the landing zone would be easy.  Well, he hoped it would be easy.  Failure to secure the landing zone would mean the loss of the initial Thunderhawk transport and its Stormraven escort.  It would mean that the fighting would only be harder.  It would mean projected losses of over 200 marines.  The Iron Guardians were only about 450 Astartes strong, including scouts.  Failure was not an option.  “Survive,” Argos uttered quietly over vox.  “Perservere,” his brothers whispered back.  The “battle cry” was always spoken with so much sorrow.  It was a solemn reminder to always push forward and to never leave a brother behind.

 

     “Autonomic targeting system activated and awaiting planetfall. Planetfall in 20 seconds.“

 

     Argos tugged slightly at his harness.  The retro thrusters on the pod fired.  The force would have made any normal human unfit for combat, stunning and disorienting him.  Argos was no man.  He glanced around to ensure that his brothers were ready for the doors to blow open.  The only man not holding his weapon was brother Fortaine.  His plasma gun was in a box between his knees just as Argos’ own combi-plasma was.  If their pod got hit it's better the plasma explode in its box rather than on the Astartes inside, causing more losses.  They both opened their boxes with vox-commands and readied their weapons.

 

     "Planetfall in 15 seconds.”

 

     After this battle Brother Sergeant Argos would be Tech-Sergeant Argos. The thought of painting his helmet white was amusing.  It was only a lateral promotion, but it would mark that he had both completed his training as a techmarine as well as served the chapter long enough to be counted among its veterans.

 

     “Planetfall in 5…”

 

     The harness clicked and readied itself to free the marine it protected. 

 

     “4…”  The thrusters roared even louder, preparing the pod for its sortie with the ground below. 

 

     “3…”  The doors hissed as they prepared to slam open and spill their cargo into Necron hoard. 

 

     “2…”  Argos checked to ensure the non-verbal communication systems on his helmet were working in preparation of giving targeting orders.  He would need to act quickly.

 

     “Planetfall”

 

     The pod slammed into the ground with the force of a thousand raging machines.  The door in front of Argos blew open, crushing a Necron Warrior beneath it.  The only thing he could see was a construct of living metal so large that it dwarfed all but the greatest of Imperial Titan class war engines.  It was clear what was about to happen.  Argos activated his helmet-vox.  “Live,” he commanded.  It was the last thing he could do before the Monolith fire its Particle Whip.

[Hyuzanriu]

Chapter 3

 

     Alyssa saw the Astartes pod land about 150 meters from her position. It was the only one to land within a kilometer. She assumed that it was off course. Alyssa was amazed at how easily that floating monstrosity had disabled a squad of the Emperor’s best and brightest.  Only two of the Astartes still stood, firing their bolters in an effort to protect their squad mates.  Another three sat upright against the smoldering wreckage of their drop pod trying to help hold back the machine hoard.  Alyssa made her decision.  They needed help and she was going to make sure they got it.  She began bellowing orders.

 

     “First and second battalions get on line!  I want all las-fire focused on the machines advancing on that pod!  Lt Rey I want your battalion pushing forward with me to assist the Astartes and provide medical treatment until more are able to help!  Just because the Astartes are here doesn't mean we don’t have a job to do!”

 

     Alyssa may have sounded confident in her order, but she did not feel it.  The machines had broken her line and managed to cripple an entire squad of Astartes with a single shot.  The floating tomb-shaped construct even had the audacity to forgo a second shot at the unit and ignored two space marines.  If the previous fighting had not told Alyssa to be afraid, what she just saw did.  She turned to her command squad, “You heard me, let’s get going…”

 

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     CONDITION…CRITICAL

 

     HEMORRHAGING…ATTEMPTING TO CONTROL

 

     AUXILIARY HEART FAILING

 

     LEFT LEG…UNRESPONSIVE

 

     RIGHT LEG…UNRESPONSIVE

 

     LEFT ARM…UNRESPONSIVE BELOW THE ELBOW

 

     Argos was barely conscious. His world was spinning and everything sounded like it was underwater. He tried to lift himself to a sitting position but his left arm failed and pain shot up his arm. The pain did not last long as adrenaline rushed through his system, but it lasted just enough to bring Argos to a full state of awareness.  Argos read his heads up display.  He could see two of his brothers laying bolts into the advancing Necron Warriors.  The pods nearest to them were slightly over a kilometer away. Tactical Squad Argos' drop pod was off course.  The other Tactical Squads were attempting to clear the drop zone, pushing back a large unit of Immortals.  Tactical squad Argos was the only unit that was reduced below 75% combat capability.

 

     Argos looked around.  Three more members of his squad were still alive besides the two that were standing.  Brother Atma and Brother Geil had dragged themselves to an upright position.  Brother Leyal had clearly been placed there in an urgent manner to get him somewhat back into the fight.  Argos’ right arm was the only limb he had that was still functional.  His left leg was a stump about 12 inches below his hip and the right side of his hip was gone entirely.  The left arm Argos loved so much was shredded just above the elbow.  Blood and scraps of flesh hung from the parts of him that were still "human" while oil spurted from his left arm and the join on his right hip.

 

     Argos looked around to further assess his situation as best he could from the ground.  Guardsmen from the west were laying las-fire into the advancing Warriors while a unit of them moved toward Tactical Squad Argos’ position.  He picked up his combi-plasma and began firing from an awkward position.  “Assist,” he ordered.  Brother Michial stopped firing long enough to grab Argos and drag him upright against some rubble like his brothers.  Argos shot less than a magazine before his helmet display read “WARNING…BLOOD LOSS SEVERE…LOSS OF CONSCIOUSNESS…IMMINENT.”

 

     The warning was a little late.  Just as the guardsmen made it to his position, Argos began to lose consciousness.  The last thing Argos saw was a women dressed in the livery of an officer kneel next to him.  “MEDIC,” she screamed as the guardsmen attempted to hold back the Necrons...

[Hyuzanriu]

Chapter 4

 

     Brother Michial was afraid.  He knew that he should not be. He was Astartes.  He was an Iron Guardian.  He was an Angel of Death.  He was the nightmare that every xenos and traitor scum had before he squeezed the breath out of them.  Despite being all these things, Michial was still afraid.  He returned to his position of cover next to Brother Ishal and continued to lay bolts into the advancing warriors.  The other tactical squads were aware of Tactical Squad Argos' position, but the mission was to secure the landing zone.  Losing the landing zone could mean the deaths of almost 200 marines.  The loss of 10 was much less severe than the loss of 200.  Michial did not blame them, the overall survival of the chapter was more important. 

 

     The Necron Warriors were relentless in their assault.  The pompous xenos didn't even bother to run or find cover, they walked in a slow, steady advance.  Michial took their style of warfare as a personal insult, how dare they think so little of an Astartes. His anger and fear made him irrational.  He stopped aiming and began firing indiscriminately into the xeno hoard.  As Michial became more and more upset, his mind began to wander into a land of blame for the reason he found himself in such a terrible situation. Why do humans keep building hive-cities on tomb worlds?  Ridiculous.  Stupid.  A cacophony of curses and insults came to mind about the inferiority of the human brain when compared to an Astartes, but none of them did any good now.

 

     Michial only became more upset as he watched six of the last ten Warriors he had slain reanimate. Everything about the Necrons was annoying and the annoyance only served to further the rage. Why won't they stay down?  DIE XENOS DIE! Michial was always a very emotional fighter.  He struggled throughout his formative years with the Guardians to keep his emotions to himself on the battlefield.  "Straight face, mouth shut, follow orders."  The mantra was always alive inside Michials head.  It was almost as if it was tattooed to his eyelids.  It kept him from yelling obscenities that would clog the vox channels, but it never kept him calm and focused.

 

     The mantra wasn't working now.  Brother Sergeant Argos and the others had all lost consciousness.  There were no orders to follow.  Michial was the senior warrior between he and Brother Ishal, which means that Michial was the one who should be giving the orders.  He was too upset to realize any of this of course.  Michial reloaded his bolter and poured 5 bolts into the hoard before it jammed.  The jam only served to further Michial's rage. He punched the rock he was taking cover behind before clearing the jam. Ishal's voice came in over helmet vox, "Brother my helmet display is telling me that your heart rate is elevated beyond acceptable levels to be fit for combat.  I request that you collect yourself as to ensure us a greater chance of survival."

 

     Ishal aspired more to the machine than anyone in the squad.  He was always calm and collected and spoke with such a calming robotic voice that his reason always made it through to Michial, though no one could understand how.  The two had been together since Ishal became an Astartes and Michial had no intention of letting anything separate them, not even death.  He did his best to put his anger and fear away and tried to think clearly for the sake of his Brother.

 

     Michial cleared the jam and lifted himself over his cover so that he could resume firing.  The Necron Warriors were close.  Too close. They were moving slowly, but there was still not much time left.  Michial had to find a solution that used all the tools at his disposal.  It would take less than three minutes for the Warriors to close in.  About half of the guard battalion that came to assist was still combat capable.  The emergency beacon that their drop pod was equipped with had to be manually activated, it was somewhere in the rubble around them.  What was that protocol number?  Michial had an idea, he opened his mouth...

 

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     Alyssa was doing the best she could with what she had.  Every request for air support or artillery had been denied, they had "more important" task.  Damn Tempestas always keeping the good stuff.  Her medics were treating the wounded Astartes to the best of their abilities, but they were used to treating humans.  One of the two Astartes still standing was obviously frustrated. Alyssa watches as he frustratingly punched the rock he taking cover behind after his bolgun jammed.  The Astartes are like gods among men, she thought. If they are getting flustered then all must be lost.

 

      Alyssa was about to accept death and order a charge into the mechanical horde. She glanced over to Lorentz, he was reloading his boltgun. They met eyes briefly and he shook his head so slightly that she could not be sure if the Commissar had actually done it. He always seemed as though he could guess what she was thinking.

 

     The rock-punching Astartes spoke, "Captain we cannot hold our position without help and my brothers are too injured to move.  Request artillery support."  His voice was still human, but something about it reminded Alyssa of gears turning.  It was soothing and confusing at the same time.  He sounded incredibly calm, which only added to Alyssa's confusion as the "man" had just displayed an obvious sign of frustration.

 

     "I can't! They keep denying my request!"

 

     "Call it again."  He was still speaking so calm, it was assuring Aylssa.  Maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed.  "I must find something, hold the line."  The Astartes tapped his squadmate on the shoulder to let him know he was moving.  Then he started digging through the rubble of his drop pod in what looked like something resembling a storage unit.

 

     Alyssa ordered her men to stand firm.  One of them decided he wanted to advance in the wrong direction.  His head exploded and his body fell to the ground like a sack of rocks.  "Next one looks just like him. Fight for the Emperor!  Fight for your lives!  Fight for your planet!"  Commissar Lorentz reloaded his boltgun.  Alyssa wondered why they still tried running when Lorentz made it very clear what would happen if they even so much as thought about retreating. She once asked if he had ever missed while attempting to execute someone for cowardice. His only smiled at the notion and asked, "Miss? What does that word even mean?" She called over her vox-man and took the headset.

 

     "A6-Main this is M6-1.  I have a call for fire.  Over"

 

     A very deep male voice came in from the other end.  "M6-1 this is A6-Main.  Request denied all assets are currently tasked to Storm-1.  Out."

 

     Alyssa was appalled. Not only had the operator ignored proper radio etiquette, he was also disrespectful. She put on her "Iron Maiden" voice. Stern and mean.  "Corporal Bryant, I have four Astartes bleeding out at my location and we are less than five minute from being overrun!  Unless you want to explain to Astartes command why you let them die I suggest you tell the First Temestas Brigade that they can wait!"  Screw radio etiquette, it wasn't like the operator was following it anyway. The Tempestas could lick the throne for all she cared.

 

     There was a silence that lasted about 5 seconds before the operator responded.  "M6-1 we have your location.  Fire mission granted."

 

     Alyssa let out a very large sigh of relief.  "Requesting HE rounds, I'll walk you in.  Danger close. I repeat.  Danger Close."

 

     "Read ya loud and clear M6-1.  Danger close, HE rounds going out.  Tuck it in."

 

     A few seconds later the whistle of artillery rang through the air.  Alyssa looked at Lorentz again.  His face was the closest thing to a smile she had ever seen from the battle scarred man.  Alyssa's voice was shaky and filled with joy, "Somebody tell the Emperor to wait, he won't be seeing us today..."

[Hyuzanriu]

     I'm thinking about wrapping up the story in the next installment.  Anyone that is reading this mind giving some feedback on the story?  Just curious as to what I could do to make future stories better.  Is there anything I have said in the story that isn't cannon/doesn't fit in with universe?

[Hyuzanriu]

Chapter 5

 

     The human woman was barking orders with an efficiency that impressed Michial. She was a capable commander. The Commissar at her side was doing well to keep the guardsmen in line. Michial made a mental note to thank them for their actions later, it was likely that he and his brothers would all be dead without the assistance of the guardsmen.

 

     Michial was too busy searching through the wreckage of the pod to shoot. He glanced up long enough to see that the other Tactical squads had cleared enough of the drop zone for the rest of the Iron Guardian’s strike force to come down from orbit. Three Thunderhawk carriers were dropping their loads of battle tanks and Astartes into the area as a few dozen Stormraven and Stormtalon gunships hovered overhead, pouring fire into the Necrons. They were too far away to be of any immediate help to Tactical Squad Argos.

 

     Michial looked back at what he was doing. He had to stay focused. Had to find that locator beacon and turn on its recovery signal. If he failed to find it in time the Necrons would end him, his squad, and the guardsmen. Michial brushed scraps of metal and some small armor plates out of his way as he searched. Some pieces were half buried elbow deep in loose dirt. Michial tossed everything that proved useless off to the side.

 

     Wait, what was that? A red light was flashing periodically on and off on one of the plates. The beacon! Michial grabbed the locator beacon and flipped two switches on its face. The red light turned a solid green and an instant later turned a solid red. “Ishal, the beacon is live,” he said as he retrieved his bolter, which he had mag-locked to his power pack.

 

     Just as Michial was returning to his firing position, a voice came over helmet-vox. “Tactical Squad Argos this is Techmarine Straum. I see you have activated your emergency beacon, what is your situation?”

 

     Michial read off the statuses of his squadmates from his helmet display as he fired into the horde of Warriors, “This is Brother Michial of Tactical Squad Argos. Brother Sergeant Argos and three other brothers are alive but unconscious and require immediate medical attention. Four of our brothers are dead. A company of guardsmen are at our location and their medics are attempting to provide aid. Guard artillery is firing danger close on our position. We are about to be overrun.” As he spoke, Michial heard the distant cracks of two drop pods entering the atmosphere.

 

      “Hold on tight. Two Ironbound are on their way. I am sending The Sentinel’s Justice to reinforce your position and an apothecary to treat your wounded.” The Sentinel’s Justice was a gift from the Iron Hands. They gave it to the Iron Guardians just after becoming self-sustainable. The Prometheus pattern Land Raider had seen more battles than most of the Astartes in the Iron Guardians. Michial was relieved to hear that the machine was en-route.

 

     The two drop pods slammed into the ground less than 10 meters from the locator beacon. Guardsmen near the pods were covered in dirt as it sprayed from the ground like waves on rocks. Only the shape of the pods was discernible through all the dust. Michial assumed that it must be the Ironbound. Two consecutive whooshing noises pushed through the air as two missiles tore through the cloud of dirt that surrounded one of the pods. A Contemptor-Mortis Pattern Dreadnought with dual dreadnought close combat weapons exploded through the mist of earth and sprinted toward the horde of Warriors. The Dreadnaught did not have a missile launcher.

 

     Michial wondered briefly where the missiles came from before the sound of Assault Cannons spinning gave him the answer. A mechanical voice came from the same direction as the spinning cannons. “Down,” The ancient Dreadnaught ordered, still not entirely visible. Michial could see what appeared to be a red machine with a black right shoulder. It did not wait for the order to be followed. Just as Ishal, Michial, and most of the guardsmen dived to the ground, the dreadnaught fired its twin cannons to Michials right, leaving the left side for his companion.

 

      Michial briefly recalled his time as an adept, when Codicier Lumis was giving a lesson on the history of the chapter. The two Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought chassi were found buried underneath a hive city on some long dead hive world while bringing the planet back under Imperial compliance. The Cult Mechanicus gifted the chapter with armaments for their discovery.

 

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     Argos had been in and out of consciousness since the Particle Whip fired. Argos had memory flashes of a human woman screaming for a medic, a man dressing his wounds, Michial and Ishal firing their bolters, and two Contemptor Pattern Dreadnoughts. Something was off though. The guardians wear black. The Contemptor with the Typhoon Missile Launcher and twin Kheres Pattern Assault Cannons was definitely red. Argos came to just long enough to see the name carefully and lovingly painted on the Contemptor's left shoulder, “Kraitor the Ironbound.”

 

     Argos was too weak to remember himself. He smiled the weak, happy smile of a man that knew he was not going to die. Whenever Venerable Brother Kraitor took to the field, the Guardians knew only victory. Iron would not fall this day…

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Good job, so far.

[Hyuzanriu]

The story is done for now, though I may write more about different Astartes is the chapter. I went through and cleaned the story up. I fixed some typos that made it through proofreading and messed with some words. I think it is better now than before, even if I did not change the actual events in the story.

[Hyuzanriu]

"As Iron Falls" is finished. I will be reading through it periodically and cleaning it up, but I will not be adding anything more to it, though some of the characters may appear in some of my other stories. Here is my second story, there is a different set of characters but it is the same conflict that Argos drops into to start. I also just noticed a couple days ago that one of the protagonist in the story is named after the owner of the forum, an accident, but the name popped into my head from somewhere. Just seemed fitting. Without further adieu, "The Secret Heresies".

 

The Secret Heresies

Chapter 1

 

    The Necron Lord’s body was a crumpled mess on the floor at the feet of Iron Captain Eremaeus. The Necron should have been dead, but his body was very slowly attempting to reassemble itself. Eremaeus bent down and reached into the chest cavity he had just cleaved open with his power axe. He closed his hand around a small vial filled with a glowing green liquid and pulled it free. Eremaeus looked at the phylactery and briefly mulled over how something so fragile could hold the key to immortality. He gave a small squeeze, crushing the gift of life.

 

     Eremaeus’ command squad was behind him, though only three of the original five Astartes were still alive. The fighting was all but over in this sector of the city. Brother Eldon, Eremaeus’ second, was speaking with chapter command over helmet vox while Techmarine Titus waited impatiently for Eremaeus to finish his business with the Lord.

 

    It had been four days since the Iron Guardians made planetfall on the surface of Hydraxis II, an imperial hive word. About half of the planet had been resecured, many of the buried Necron tomb cities were destroyed but the planet’s Overlord still had yet to rear his foul head and take the field.

 

    Eremaeus stood and looked down at the dying Necron Lord. Its eyes seethed with hatred as its reassembling body stumbled and fell back to the ground. Eldon broke the silence. “My Lord Captain, command has demanded that we move to support Master Kraitor. The Overlord has shown himself.”

 

    Eremaeus did not respond. “It is quite a shame that we may only ever be enemies. There is so much we could learn from you,” he said to the lord as he lifted his power axe. The Necron did not respond. Pompous and defiant to the very end. The captain brought down his axe, splitting the xenos’ head into two before shouldering the axe and turning to walk away.

 

    “Iron Captain,” sighed Techmarine Titus, following closely to Eremaeus’ right. “There are some who would call such words heresy.”

 

    Titus had only been with the command squad for five years, and was very ill received. The Iron Guardians have always been advocates of freedom, which led most to take the liberty of abandoning the teachings of the Omnissiah after the Massacre of Kilaan I. It was generally agreed that if such a deity did exist, he did not deserve to be worshipped for allowing so many of his devout followers to die such terrible and honorless deaths while defending his creations.

 

    Titus was on the forge world Kilaan I eighty years ago. 375 Iron Guardians were killed when an Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor ordered exterminatus on the planet to stop a massive Slaanesh incursion assisted by two small warbands of traitor Astartes. The Iron Guardians present to defend the planet had refused to accept that it could not be defended, preferring to die for their home rather than let it be destroyed by the forces of chaos. There was no warning of intent for exterminatus.

 

    Titus was one of 50 marines to scramble onto the only Thunderhawk that was able to break orbit before the barrage began. He swears that the Omnissiah came to him and told him what was going to happen. It was later discovered that the incursion began because the Lord Keeper (the Iron Guardian's equivalelant of Cheif Librarian) and a handful of Astartes within the Iron Guardians had pledged their loyalty to Slaanesh. The traitors planned the fall of the planet from the inside. The Iron Guardians were ordered to undergo a hundred year long penance crusade. The chapter secretly took recruits from worlds they were called upon to assist or bring under Imperial compliance, anything to survive.

 

    Eremaeus spoke over his shoulder, “Brother, I aspire to the machine. The Necrons are living metal. If I am a heretic for wishing their secrets then so be it, but remember this. In the eyes of an Inquisitor, if one of us is a heretic, all of us are heretics.”

[Machine God]

Nice writing.

 

I take it that your marines have a defective Larraman's Organ in that they can die of blood loss and not have their wounds instantly clot.

[Hyuzanriu]

That is correct. The organ is still present, it just does not function. Something similar to the appendix (EDIT: why the heck did I put kidney? They do things lmao). I have been toying with a second defect but I feel as though I should continue writing and the second defect (if any) will just come to me.

[Bjorn Firewalker]

Further details on what happened at Kilaan I, are necessary. I think it's best to include a flashback or two, allowing us to see things through the participants' POVs.

[Hyuzanriu]

Chapter 2

 

     Techmarine Titus did not like his Iron Captain. In fact, he was not fond of very many of his brothers. They all treated him like an outsider. It was as though his brothers hated him because he did not die with the other Iron Guardians on Kilaan I. Titus pushed the thought out of his mind, he remembered again that he was the only one to receive the treatment. None of the other Astartes to escape were treated so poorly. It was probably just because he chose to keep to the teachings of the Machine Cult that everyone received him so poorly.

 

     "Iron Captain, I did not mean any offense, I was simply warning against words that would cause others to fall upon false conclusions." Titus spoke in a tone that was as mocking as possible without being overtly disrespectful. He had been taught a lesson on disrespect more than once. Eremaeus gave Titus his usual response. He remained silent. The Captain hardly ever acknowledged Titus when he spoke, but Titus did not care much. He would rather not hear Eremaeus' voice than be spoken to in a tone heavy with contempt and condescension.

 

     The command squad mounted in the Steel Soul, a Razorback that was reclaimed from a demi-company sized traitor legion, and moved to meet the other leaders of the Iron Guardians. While he waited, Titus thought back to the events on Kilaan I...

 

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     Titus had eight combat servitors at his disposal, thing were looking grim for the planet. Even the Tech-Adepts, who were usually kept away from fighting so they could focus on training, had been given servo harnesses and various patterns of servitors and ordered to take to the field. Daemons were everywhere, traitors were where they needed to be for maximum amounts of damage. Titus' combat servitors were armed with storm bolters and power swords and were half hacking, half shooting their way to the nearest Thunderhawk transport while Titus himself fired off the Fyceline Torch and  Plasma Cutter on his servo harness while swinging his own power sword at anything that had the misfortune of getting too close.

 

     "Adept! Head down!" The voice of Techmarine Straum rang out at the exact moment that something yanked hard on the back of Titus' servo harness, dragging him to the ground. A tentacle had wrapped around one of the servo-arms while another three began grabbing at Titus' legs and were pulling him toward a Chaos Spawn. The Spawn had four tentacles longer than it was tall and six too many human reproductive organs that were in places they had no right to be.

 

     Struam moved quickly. He made a strong downward slash at the tentacle enthralling Titus' servo harness with his Omnissian Power Axe and began firing his bolter at the abomination. As the Spawn died, its grip on Titus weakened. He made an attempt to stand. Straum wasted no time in continuing toward the objective after the spawn was dead. The old marine was an ex-Brazen Claw that was part of the collective Medusan cadre that had trained the first Iron Guardians. Straum was a veteran of hundreds of battles and was likely to be the chapter's next Master of the Forge.

 

     The ground around the Thunderhawk had to be secured, command wanted to consolidate the wounded there. As Titus started to stand something struck him from behind. Everything after was a haze or bolterfire and blood. Titus faded in and out of consciousness more than once. The only thing he could clearly remember was hearing someone say, "Good. Very good. You have done well child, now escape this planet. It will soon be made uninhabitable."

 

    Titus had no memory of anything else until he awoke on a medical table. He assumed he was onboard the Thunderhawk he was ordered to secure. The sounds of battle outside the ship could be heard, and the Thunderhawk shook violently as a round struck it. Titus' wounds were being treated by a medical servitor while an Apothecary removed the geneseed from a dead Veteran Sergeant on an adjacent table. Titus sat upright, shoving the servitor away. The Apothecary gave him a puzzled look. Titus looked his brother in the eye and said, "Tell the Captain to lift off. Exterminatus is coming..."

 

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     Titus smiled at the thoughts of his first battle. He had seen hundreds more since, but that first battle was the one he most held dear. Iron Captain Eremaeus and the other two Astartes gave him a questioning look, but none of them bothered to question him. He was the chapter's fool after all, why would they bother themselves to ask what amused him so much as to show emotion when battle was so near? He was only the Techmarine of the First Captain's command squad because of his skill with machines. His brothers respected that much about him at least. Titus fingered his bolt pistol the way he did when was bored.

 

     "We are closing on the battlefield, Iron Captain," Spoke the Razorback's driver over helmet-vox. "Techmarine Titus, there is a Rhino awaiting with a unit of combat servitors which will be at your disposal as instructed." Titus' brothers may not like him, but he was the Techmarine of the First, so they would always obey him. Titus put on his helmet and used its display controls to activate the servitors. They would be waiting for him when he arrived.

 

     "Survive." Ordered Iron Captain Eremaeus.

 

     "Persevere." Echoed the command squad.

 

     The rear hatch to the Razorback dropped open and the sounds of combat rushed inside. Titus stepped out after Eremaeus. "Into the breach again," he thought.

[Hyuzanriu]

EDIT: Whoops, didn't realize I had put the newest chapter up already. Disregard.

[deathspectersgt7]

[Hyuzanriu]

     It has been quite a while. Life got a little busy but I'm back. Secret Heresies Chapter 3 is here!

 

Chapter 3

 

 

     "Lord Keeper Mattin this is Techma... Forge Lord. Straum." The voice came in through Mattin's helmet-vox. Straum was still getting used to his new position as the Forge Lord and one of the Five. The Five are five Astartes that function as a Captain would in a standard chapter, but instead of being given an entire company to command, they have general command over every marine in the chapter. The Five are assigned units to command as the mission dictates. When one of the seats among the Five is vacated, they internally choose a battle brother of any standing to fill the seat. It is a system that was adopted due to the chapter being at less than optimal strength.

 

     "Wot you want ya git?" Mattin always found some way to keep himself entertained in battle, this time he chose to hold his best Ork accent throughout the entire engagement. So far it was going well, though once he got a little too enthusiastic and commanded one of his Terminator body guards to rip a light post out of the ground and start beating Immortals with it. That was good fun.

 

     Straum had long since given up trying to get the psychic to take things more seriously, they went way back. Both Astartes were once Brazen Claws. "Master Kraitor wants you to be begin driving forward. Eremaeus and his command squad are moving in on the Overlord and his Royal Court. It would be less than ideal if they attracted the attention of Praetorians before they completed their objective. Shake things up a bit."

 

     Mattin briefly mulled over the instructions before deciding that he was in fact, still very bored. He turned to the fifteen Tactical Dreadnought Armored Astartes behind him, "Aw wright boyz. Let's go get stuck in!" Mattin charged the nearest Necron Warrior, slamming his storm shield into it and slashing with his enormous force halberd at a different Warrior.

 

     It only took abut five minutes for the Praetorians to take notice of the Terminators. Tech-Sergeant Ikmota came in over helmet-vox. "Lord Keeper. I am reading at least 20 Praetorians inbound to our position. Would you like us to continue to push forward? Iron Captain Likktor's tactical squads are still at our backs to prevent us being surrounded."

 

     For the first time since making planet fall, Mattin wasn't bored. He remembered the kind of fight Praetorians can put up. The keeper dropped the Orkish accent, "No brother, stand your ground. We have achieved our most recent objective. You have the command here, I will deal with the Praetorians." 

 

    Mattin broke into as much of a jog as Tactical Dreadnought Armor would allow toward the approaching Praetorians and activated his teleport homer. He spoke over helmet-vox. His voice was back to its normal tone. Incredibly serious and stone cold enough to freeze an ocean.

 

     "Straum. My conclave..."