++ Bitter Iron - To the Gates of Terra ++

[Monstra Sumus]

 

 

 

The interior of the Rhino armored transport was no sanctuary from the cacophony of ordinance being flung in the direction of the IVth legions landing sites. The rumble of the tracks as they crushed their way over the Dudwa Ashlands, nor the grumble of its reactor that drove the lumbering machine over those caustic dunes, were enough to drown out the steady crump of artillery detonations. There were no words traded between the ten Astartes that inhabited this grim mobile tomb, only the sound of their pauldrons clanking against magnetic crash harnesses. None of them needed to check their weaponry, they all knew to the finest point their equipment would not fail them, it had been literally beaten into them as time passed from the hazy mist of legion induction to this most auspicious of days. A battered and broken suit of Corvus armor rattled against the deck between them, sliding against armored sabatons with a thunk as the ash dunes settled behind the whirring tracks of the transport. One warrior nudged the war plate back into the center of the troop bay and snorted hot air into the confines of his helmet. There was nothing but contempt in his gaze as he stared at the ragged corpse of the Imperial Fist with its destroyed arm and missing legs.

 

A silhouette of jagged edges and considerable bulk was backlit in floods of red light from the drivers compartment. The helms of all ten seated warriors turned to lock onto the figure between them and the driver, but any words that were traded became lost amid the sound of destruction outside. The shadow turned and the red light flushed with an ill light across his features. Striding several steps along the deck, gripping heavy loops that hung from the spine of the transport came the fourth company's herald. The sickly pale skin of his sloping brow was creased into a savage grimace beneath his respirator unit. The Centurion came to a halt between the shackled warriors of his command and stared about him with hard eyes. Kasulek let two heavy breathes puff out from his helmet grille before his sour voice assaulted his squadrons vox network. 

 

++ Ramp down in ten. Orders are sacrosanct. Any deviation will result in censure. No questions ++

 

The herald paused and let his steel hard gaze drift down to the rattling corpse splayed before him, the red interior light playing across the rents in the armor.

 

++ Try to die standing on your feet ++ 

 

A chorus of laughter cracked across the interior, the sound of the warriors mirth like the savagery of snarling hounds. The warrior closest to the herald snapped his crested helm to the left once and the laughing died instantly. As short lived as that sound was, the tone was dripping with apathy. Kasulek scoffed at the his subordinate sergeant and shook his head with a roll of his eyes. He flicked one armored finger in a swiping motion towards the squad and the battle plan tight beamed its way onto the heads up display of each Astartes. The rest of the journey passed without words as the Rhino thundered over the landscape amidst the barrage, leaving the warriors floating for scant moments before crashing down to solid ground once more. This forward element had a simple job; speed in whilst the tank battalions drew fire and clear the trench lines that spiderwebbed out from the walls of this section of the Imperial Palace. It would be brutal work and they would be punished by traps and fire sections from the bastions that clung to the Mahabharat mountain range like grotesque swollen ticks. They would be constantly shelled by mortar crews and subject to all manner of thrown and shoulder-fired projectiles. 

 

The Rhino's interior filled with squealing as it rocked sideways to a halt and the ready light flashed from the harsh red to a vibrant green. A stuttered groaning sound hissed from the very back of the transport before the ready light cut out, plunging the entire vehicle into darkness. The exit ramp slammed down, the blinding white of the Terran sky causing autosenses to dim in compensation. The side hatches yawned open and two of Kasulek's warriors flung themselves out into the wasteland, bolt weapons snapping toward unseen foes. He knelt and scooped up the reinforced banner pole that bisected the dead Imperial Fist, hauling the Astartes up from the deck like a macabre marionette. 

 

Kasulek strode down the ramp and into the noxious fumes of Terra, hauling his corpse banner high with one upthrust arm so the defenders would catch sight of his mockery through their view finders. He marched around the bulk of the transport, a crackling power maul swinging in his clenched fist; his squad of Astartes followed in his wake like sharks, the muzzles of their helms flicking left and right, as if sniffing the air for their prey. Kasulek crushed a blackened skull beneath his armored boot as he climbed onto a rocky outcrop, the ash wastes littered with the corpses and burnt husks of tanks stretching out to the horizon on ether side of him. He was blessed with a view that made him nod his head in respect to the battle raging beyond. A majestic fortress jutted from the Mahabharat mountain range, a thing of curved walls and intersecting kill zones. Mighty guns boomed from its wall tops and from hidden emplacements set into the mountain range. A gigantic black fist on a circlet of yellow was carved into the mountain face defying the attackers intent to take the fortress. Kasulek turned his gaze away from the vista and jumped down, content the eyes upon the wall had seen his little jest. 

 

They had work to do. 

++ Mikan, on me. Weapons free ++

 

~~~

 

WIP of Kasulek, Herald of the Vth Company, IIXth Grand Company, IVth Legio Astartes

 

 

WIP of Sergeant Mikan, Squad Primus, Vth Company, IIXth Grand Company, IVth Legio Astartes

 

 

 

Thanks,

 

MS

[Son of Rawl]

Love it, see you at Terra.

[Firedrake Cordova]

I really like the posing of the sergeant, and the bases look great too  

 

I love that you're writing background for your squads