Planetfall: Alcmene - A Legio B&C story

[Rogue Trader]

http://www.fortressmonastery.iinet.net.au/ol/ol_images/alcmene_banner.jpg

 

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The Thunderhawk banked sharply, skimming low through the plascrete canyons of the wrecked hive. Jarrett increased the magnetic pull of his boots, anchoring himself more firmly to the deck as it tilted under him, and looked around the crowded compartment. Thirty marines, each clad in the black and red of the Legio Bolter and Chainsword murmured their final prayers and readied their weapons for planetfall. Marines from some of the most famous chapters in the galaxy, the Salamanders, Imperial Fists and Raven Guard stood shoulder to shoulder, each proudly displaying their heritage on their right shoulder pauldron.

 

Across the compartment a young marine bearing the heraldry of the Brazen Claws was conferring with Diffido, formerly of the Exorcists Chapter. The Brazen Claw glanced up, met Jarrett's gaze and nodded. Jarrett returned the nod, but couldn't shake the unease he felt about the Exorcist. Diffido's armour bore arcane hexagrams and runes that disturbed Jarrett in ways he couldn't explain. He'd heard rumours of the chapter's strange practices - they all had - and he couldn't help but feel worried about dropping on a Chaos controlled planet with a marine who seemed so close to heresy himself. Jarrett shook his head, and braced himself as the pilot gave the ten second warning.

 

The Thunderhawk settled in the shadow of a desecrated temple to the Emperor, at the edge of an open plaza. Jarrett leaped from the ramp, his boots kicking up dust as he ran after Sergeant Castor. He skidded to a halt behind a shattered pillar and scanned the square. As the rest of the squad took up positions around him, a mob of chaos marines in burgundy armour burst from an archway and sprinted towards the Gunship, bolters spitting fire. As Jarrett raised his weapon, an icon flashed in front of his eyes and he whirled to see traitors flooding the square from every direction.

 

Glancing towards the Thunderhawk, Jarrett saw the first group of traitors reach the access ramp, only to be repelled by a counter-charge led by the Brazen Claw, Rhadamanthys. The young marine fought calmly and coolly, wielding his chainsword in both hands, the weapon a blur as he pushed back the burgundy armoured chaos marines. Turning away, Jarrett racked the under-slung grenade launcher that jutted from his antique boltgun and fired a krak grenade towards a squad of traitors entrenched behind a fallen pillar. The grenade flew high over the traitor position, impacting against the base of the temple wall behind them and detonating with a sharp report. Castor's voice buzzed from the vox bead in Jarrett's ear

 

"Emperor's teeth, Jarrett, at least hit the enemy

[Aurelius Rex]

Part 2: Golgotha Learns to Fly... :blush: (With apologies to SCC!)

 

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As the cockpit of the loyalist Thunderhawk detonated, Brother Jeremiah of the Word Bearers watched with despondency as his misguided brothers continued to fight. It must be obvious even to them that they were beaten. Surely now they would see sense and accept the Pantheon as their saviours.

 

His eyes misted as he targeted the fleeing black armoured figures with the Landraider

Edited June 1, 2004 by Aurelius Rex

[Aurelius Rex]

Weissmann threw the rifle to one side in disgust.

Edited June 1, 2004 by Aurelius Rex

[Rogue Trader]

Time to save this thread from the ignominy of page 6, I think :huh:

 

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Jarrett grinned as Golgotha leaped from the top hatch of the Land Raider and drew his chainsword with a flourish. The big marine had no concept of subtlety, an attitude that faintly horrified Jarrett, who had specialised in covert operations for decades with the Grief Bringers. Everything about the Scion of Dorn was ostentatious, from his brash, boisterous manner and his glossy, almost reflective armour to his customised chainsword, fully twice the length of a normal weapon. Regardless, Jarrett could think of few marines he would rather have next to him in the heat of battle.

 

True to form, Golgotha

[Rogue Trader]

A klaxon screamed, shredding the tranquil silence in the Librarium.

 

Brother-Librarian Kruitzfeldt of the Legio Bolter and Chainsword rose from his seat and strode towards the heavy Adamantium doors of the Librarium, collecting his Force Sword as he passed the weapons rack.

 

As the door hissed shut behind the Librarian, the electrolumens in the Librarium dimmed, the only light provided by the dull glow of the console Kruitzfeldt had been using. Green text glowed brightly against the black screen:

 

++ Legio Archive Initiated ++

++ Omega Level Clearance Required ++

++ Input passcode: ******** ++

++ Data Access Granted ++

++ Thought for the Day: Learn from the past ++

 

++ Accessing file: Jarrett, Legio Battle Brother, recruited from: Grief Bringers. ++

++ Pict record: unavailable ++

++ Battle History: begin download ++

++ Scout Company; V'run engagement - File 33% complete ++

++ Scout Company; V'run engagement - File 66% complete ++

++ Error: Data stream corrupted, unable to retrieve remaining data ++

 

++ Accessing file: Rhadamanthys, Legio Battle Brother, recruited from: Brazen Claws. ++

++ Pict Record: Access Granted ++

++ Battle History: begin download ++

++ LB&C; Defence of Divine Hunter. Cross ref: Captain Draco Euripides (Scions of Dorn), Tomax Hell (Excommunicate Traitoris: Night Lords). ++

++ End of file, all other data unretrievable ++

 

++ Accessing file: Golgotha, Legio Sergeant, recruited from: Scions of Dorn. ++

++ Pict record: Access Granted ++

++ Battle History: begin download ++

++ Error: Data stream corrupted, unable to retrieve remaining data ++

 

++ Accessing file: Diffido, Access Denied: Insufficient Clearance., recruited from: Exorcists. ++

++ Pict record: Access Denied: Insufficient Clearance. ++

++ Battle History: Access Denied: Insufficient Clearance. ++

 

++ Input file name for retrieval:

 

The cursor flashed slowly in the darkened Librarium, awaiting the return of Kruitzfeldt with the infinite patience of the machine.

Edited June 10, 2004 by Rogue Trader

[Aurelius Rex]

Thanks to RT for a stack of good ideas in the first part. :lol:

 

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Jarrett was alone in a personal universe of agony.

 

He tried to move, but there was only pain. He tried to cry out to Dorn, to The Emperor, to his long-dead mother but had no breath. He blindly reached up to his chest, dreading the damage he would find. To his surprise he was bloody, but whole, although the same could not be said for his armoured chestplate. Jarrett knew that the mere fact he could feel anything was a good sign - he had seen enough mortal wounds to know that.

 

His vision returned, but stayed resolutely monochrome, although it was obvious that the ominously flashing warning runes in his helmet display would have been an angry red. Gasping for breath against the fire in his chest and still unable to move, Jarrett looked up at the zealot behind the gunsight of the autocannon. The traitor marine was staring down at him with the same detached interest a small boy might watch an insect struggling in a glass of water.

 

Glancing to his right, Jarret saw his bolter, magazine empty and just out of reach. He stretched, inching his hand closer to the stock of the weapon, then flinched away as an autocannon shell slammed into the ground next to his outstretched fingers. Silently, without the breath even to speak, Brother Jarrett mouthed the Death Incantation:

[Aurelius Rex]

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It was the most awe inspiring thing that Brother Faustino had ever seen. Sergeant Golgotha had just stood there, testing his faith against that of the traitor marine. He had heard some unbelievable stories about Golgotha

[SCC]

Rhadamanthys stood up slowly, dusting the plascrete dust from his freshly painted black armour. All around him Legio Marines were rising from what little cover they had been able to find, many still staring at the unscathed figure of Sergeant Golgotha, marvelling at the strength of his faith. Others of his brethren reached for medical kits or ceramite repair tubes, patching up both themselves and their armour.

 

Rhadamanthys jumped as a single shot rang out, turning swiftly he saw Brother Croeseus raising his bolt pistol from the skull of a now dead heretic. Croeseus looked at him, withering contempt in his eyes,

 

'Can't hurt you now boy...'

 

Rhadamanthys felt his twin hearts race as anger and embarassment coursed through his veins. He opened his mouth to reply but a strong hand on his shoulder silently bade him hold his tongue. Turning from the embittered Marine he faced the owner of the hand, Sergeant Castor.

 

'Rhadamanthys, check the temple for intel. Take Faustino, Krankov and Lethe with you to secure the western flank. Report back to me when you're done.'

 

Bringing himself to attention Rhadamanthys hammered a clenched fist to his breastplate,

 

'Aye, Sergeant.'

 

Turning on his heel Rhadamanthys gathered up the chosen Marines by eye, silently leading them through the ruins of the ancient temple. Quickly assigning his brethren to vantage points to watch for the return of the enemy, he returned to the nave of the chapel. A quick scan of the area revealed nothing more than a broken Aquila and the bodies of a handful of fallen Traitors. Breathing a prayer of purity, Rhadamanthys searched each corpse thoroughly, noting markings, serial numbers and equipment types for the Legio's Librarians to pore over later.

 

Quickly he searched the rest of the temple, finding only the bones of the long dead parishioners and their priest, slaughtered when the world fell to Chaos sometime in the distant past and the usual filth that accompanied the prescence of Chaos. Returning to the nave he gathered the broken pieces of the temple's Aquila and placed them before him. He removed his helmet and murmured the Emperor's Prayer as he began to assemble the Aquila. A few minutes dextrous work and he smiled, the pieces of the holy jigsaw now resembling their true form once more.

 

Fishing a ceramite repair tube from a belt pouch Rhadamanthys began to glue the relic together. Another few minutes delicate work and his smile widened, reciting the Imperial Lobgesang while the glue set, he lifted the now whole symbol and hung it on the shattered, blood-spattered wall. Stepping back, Rhadamanthys knelt before the Aquila, breathing a prayer for those of his brethren who had fallen in battle today.

 

Standing, Rhadamanthys grabbed his helmet and headed back to the town square to report to Sergeant Castor. Jogging through the ruins the vox-bead in his ear crackled, then hissed and fell silent. Pulling his helmet on hurriedly Rhadamanthys toggled vox-channels, fruitlessly trying to clear up the interference. Reaching the outskirts of the square he heard the snap-crack of lasfire mixed together with the deeper sounds of bolter fire. Voxing his brethren at the temple a brief sit-rep he unholstered his Filienostos pattern bolt-pistol and began to work his way around the square, heading for the source of the lasfire...

[SCC]

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Rhadamanthys crept through the shattered tunnel as quietly as his bulky power armour would allow. Glancing down at a subdued rune-icon on his helmet display, a square with three wavy, vertical lines, Rhadamanthys willed it to glowing green life with a brief mental impulse. Immediately the almost inaudible whirring from the front of his helmet ceased and he heard a faint grinding of gears as his helmet's air purifier cut out, allowing the planet's own atmosphere into the close confines of his helmet. Despite his enhancements he shuddered as the cold air caressed his face, then grimaced as the ages old stink of the sewer became apparent, resisting the urge to switch back to his internal air supply Rhadamanthys pressed on, senses stretched to the maximum, searching for the enemy.

 

Stepping over the long dead corpse of a huge sewer rat Rhadamanthys' nose gave him the first indication of his enemy, that familiar sting at the back of his throat where the Neuroglottis had been implanted more than a century ago. The Brazen Claws prided themselves on the purity and functionality of each of the 19 organs that made each one of them truly a warrior of the Adeptus Astartes, including those that enhanced a Marine's olfactory senses, and whilst not possessing the acuity of a Space Wolf, they were still able to track by scent or taste alone. Slowing his pace Rhadamanthys inhaled more deeply, trying to distinguish the taint of Chaos from the stench of sewage, a few more cautious paces and he was able to pick the tunnel branch the taint was coming from. Rhadamanthys quickened his pace again as he headed down the eastern branch of the sewer, determined to come to grips with the enemy above.

 

A sudden increase in the formerly muted volume of lasfire indicated to Rhadamanthys that he was nearing his quarry. Turning his gaze to the ceiling he saw that the sewer grates were too small for him to fit through even if he shed his armour, cursing he looked about for another way to exit the sewers. As he twisted in the cramped environs to look for another exit his elbow bumped a large canister mag-clamped to his hip; with a grin Rhadamanthys remembered what it was

[Rogue Trader]

Nice, SCC :D Good to see the big R making an appearance... As ever, cheers to SCC, Rex and Joker for feedback on this one (and man, did I need the help this time!)...

 

 

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Jarrett cursed the day he

[SCC]

Nice work there RT B) The story is really starting to gather some momentum now, so to keep it going here is the next Rhadamanthys piece. This time it's all action and no talk :D

 

@nicebutdim: I get the feeling we've been at this for a while longer than you, so keep writing, it's the best way (if not the only way) to get better, if you need any help or advice feel free to call on any of the Ordo Literati, we're here to help...

 

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The dull crump of an explosion staggered Rhadamanthys, he stumbled into the nearby wall as the shockwave hit him, covering him in a shower of rockcrete dust and slime, the sound built to a crescendo as a second, larger explosion followed the first, this time throwing Rhadamanthys to the floor and immersing him in the scum infested waters of the sewer tunnel. Standing up, dripping slime and sewage, he waited a moment for his auto-senses to remove the cut-out that had protected his hearing from the noise of the second explosion, twisting, he grasped the mag-locked bundle at his hip and thumbed the mag-lock off. Briefly, he checked the mechanism to ensure it's brief dip in the sewage hadn't damaged it, then affixed it to the tunnel roof, close to the source of the second explosion. Setting the chrono to 15 seconds he muttered the Prayer for Ignition,

 

' Spirit of fire, Prime this weapon, And blast the foe, From the Emperor's blessed sight.'

 

then stabbed the detonator button and quickly moved back down the tunnel to safety. The melta bomb erupted with a deafening roar in the close confines of the tunnel, for the second time in as many minutes Rhadamanthys thanked his armour's spirit for saving his hearing as the auto-senses kicked in to smother the sound. Looking down the tunnel he was shocked to see a large vehicle sliding into the hole his melta bomb had opened in the tunnel's roof, as it hit the wall the pintle mounted flamer crumpled in on itself, erupting in a huge gout of promethium fuelled flames as the jury rigged device's pilot lit was driven into ruptured fuel lines. Standing as tall as he could in the tunnel Rhadamanthys sprinted for the flaming vehicle, trusting in his armour to protect him from the inferno, he hauled himself over the front of the flaming vehicle and into the crew compartment, his bolt pistol kicked in his hand as he dispatched the few cultists still alive in the vehicle.

 

Flames lapping at his heels Rhadamanthys vaulted over the rear of the half-track, landing among the dazed and disoriented cultists who had been following the armoured vehicles. Unclipping his double edged chainsword he set to work, bolt pistol coughing in his right hand, chainsword buzzing in his left, cutting a swathe through the stunned chaos worshippers. Within moments his bolt pistol ran dry, not bothering to reload he deftly holstered the weapon and grasped his Procyon pattern chainsword in both hands, swinging the blade easily, as though in a training room , severing limbs and ripping the spinning teeth through torsos and stomachs with practiced ease. Rhadamanthys stood his ground as the cultists shook off their stupor and tried to overwhelm him with a deadly mix of numbers and savagery.

 

The distinctive bark of bolter fire grew louder as his brethren took advantage of the destruction of the half-tracks to advance on the hapless cultists, mowing them down with skillfully aimed volleys. Like a rock amid a turbulent sea Rhadamanthys towered over the frenzied cultists, his armour turning aside the weak blows of their crude weapons as he returned each blow with interest, dealing out death at each stroke. He smiled grimly as he saw his brother's fire cutting into the cultists near him, the wretched traitors too far gone in their battle lust to notice their impending doom. The static that had plagued the vox systems disappeared and he heard the voice of Sergeant Castor, his usually grim tone lightened as he enjoyed the one sided battle,

 

'That's quite an entrance boy, even Golgotha would have been proud of that one!'

 

Chuckles echoed over the vox as the Sergeant's men enjoyed his joke before he spoke again, this time his tone serious,

 

'Now get back over here where you belong...'

 

Through the still open vents of his helmet he breathed in the cold night air, now heavy with the scent of blood and tinged with the reek of burning promethium, taking a deep breath Rhadamanthys let out a wordless roar that was quickly snatched away by the howling wind and abandoned his defensive posture, plunging back into the raging sea of ragged bodies, now intent on battering his way through to his brethren...

 

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[Rogue Trader]

What did Rhadamanthys do to deserve the sewers?! :D B)

 

 

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Aiakos slapped Jarrett

[Jokersminis]

Edited July 12, 2004 by jokersminis

[Jokersminis]

****

Darkness fell.

Noctus Cain stood in the deepening shadows outside the temple. There were three loyalist Space Marines inside. The Warmaster had demanded a message be sent, these children would do fine. Noctus glanced at the arcane imagery inside the ancient suit of Terminator Armor. The tech-savants had done masterful work. The ten thousand year old armor was currently operating better than it ever had before. It would serve him well.

 

Noctus quickly surveyed the scene in his mind. The main force of the Legio had moved toward a large explosion under a tracked vehicle only moments before. Noctus peered through a crack in the temple wall and with a thought; activated his armor

Edited July 14, 2004 by jokersminis

[Rogue Trader]

Ask...and thou shall recieve :D

 

 

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Edited July 18, 2004 by Rogue Trader

[Aurelius Rex]

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Edited July 23, 2004 by Aurelius Rex

[Rogue Trader]

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Rhadamanthys sprinted up the aisle, and glanced back to see Jarrett still standing in the nave, a strange expression on his face,

 

 

[Aurelius Rex]

Cut Off - Part 1.

 

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In the clock tower, high above the shattered landscape, Techmarine Dorff of the Order Encarmine invoked the final supplications to the spirits of the Device. In response, the static on his vox-link rose to a crescendo, as the city was blanketed in broad-spectrum white noise. With communications down, the squad led by the Scion of Dorn would be cut off, unable to call for aid when his Brothers attacked.

 

He ran his fingertips across the fine silver filigree on its surface, and with regret whispered the Litany of the Contrition, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the Device would be found and its noble spirit destroyed. Begging the Omnissiah for forgiveness, Dorff turned and hurried down the stairs to join the hunt.

 

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'Will you shut up about Golgotha.' snarled Croeseus, 'You two are as bad as Faustino.'

 

Danvers and Enverado fell silent, exchanging knowing looks. In the four years since Brother Croeseus had joined the Legio he had never settled, keeping himself aloof from the rest of Squad Castor. It had been clear from the start that he saw himself as superior, only restraining the resentment of his fellow Legio marines in the presence of the sergeants and senior officers, but in the last month his vitriol had become near intolerable.

 

Brother Danvers hefted his heavy bolter and got to his feet. 'I have never seen you offer to take an autocannon round for a brother marine, Croeseus. Come on then, out with it, how has Golgotha failed to measure up to your high standards?'

 

'Or is Sergeant Golgotha just another person keeping you from your Emperor-given right to promotion?' added Enverado with a venomous smile.

 

A flicker of annoyance clouded the Iron Hand's face. 'I can't think of anyone better at getting us out of a difficult situation than Sergeant Golgotha, but then I can't think of anyone better at getting us into a difficult situation either. You know as well as I do that it is all misdirection and cheap tricks, not proper tactics. Golgotha is an arrogant, risk-taking 'jhaarka', and it is only a matter of time before one of his glory-seeking gambles kills everyone around him.'

 

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The sky had fallen, and Brother Jeremiah was alone in the dark.

 

The rest of his Host was gone, the bonds of Faith that had united them since the time of Fortrea Quintus torn apart in a collective moment of despair. It had not been the sight of the Imperial Marine testing his faith against the autocannon of Brother Obidal and remain standing that had broken Jeremiah, it had been the realisation the faith of his fellow Word Bearers was so fragile. They had become weak, pampered, reliant on cultists and faithless wretches like their so-called allies, the marines of the Order Encarmine. They deserved to be cut off from the Divine Light of the Pantheon. He deserved to be cowering amongst the ruins like a beaten dog.

 

Jeremiah's ears pricked, even miles off the sound of the loyalist Thunderhawk's engines was unmistakable. He lifted his head to the sky and found the tiny pinpricks of its running lights high above. A cold sense of dread twisted in his gut as it hovered over the plaza before him in preparation to land. The enemy had come for him.

 

With a flash of epiphany Jeremiah understood! His Host had been broken by a leap of faith, and it fell to him to re-forge it with an act even greater. His mind expanded, filling with oratory of such eloquence and force that Lorgar Himself must surely be smiling upon him. With a click of his vox-link he opened a channel to all the Word Bearers left in the city to rally to his call, to rise up and sweep away the enemy and the unbeliever in a tide of cleansing fire. Brother Jeremiah's hearts swelled as his words were greeted across the comm-net by a susurration of what could only be rapturous applause. Without pausing in his sermon he slammed a fresh magazine into his bolt pistol and strode into the blinding landing lights of the gunship, firing as he went.

 

With enough faith, a single man can change the course of history.

 

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Thanks as always to SCC, RT and Joker for the great feedback and ideas. ^_^ Part 2 coming soon.

[Jokersminis]

Cut-Off Part 1a-

For Aurelius Rex, who is a bit on the busy side, trying not to get his butt kicked in the Painting Contest :tu:

 

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The ruined cityscape, scant meters below, rushed by in a grey blur.

The twin Thunderhawk gunships moved in a deadly ballet of precision, weaving in and out of the destroyed hab-towers and burning factories of Alcmene Proteus, as they rocketed toward the landing zone. Altitude warning systems long disabled, the Legio transports hid themselves among the radar returns of the ground clutter to avoid detection by the Traitor forces. Brother Captain Lycurgus stood calmly on the control deck of the lead gunship, staring out the reinforced plasglass windscreen. There, the landing zone was just ahead. A few deft movements on the controls and whispered prayers to the Thunderhawk

[Jokersminis]

****

 

[Rogue Trader]

Time for some thread necromancy, I think....Rise! Rise, my pretty! :ph34r:

 

Thanks as always to Rex, Joker and SCC for feedback...

 

 

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Jarrett squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the insistent flashing of the red warning icons. He gasped out the litany of stillness, as memories from the ten decades of his life rose in a series of strobing images inside his eyelids…

 

…Lacrymata, his home world…polluted and decaying, the claustrophobic network of tunnels and chambers that made up the only habitable place on the ash-smothered prison planet…

 

…The gut-wrenching fear as The Dimmetaar led him out of the warren-like caves to the surface, led him away to become a Space Marine...

 

…The first initiation test, the endless trek across the polluted ash wastes, half blinded by the tears that streamed from his eyes, the ash vultures circling overhead, waiting for him to stumble…

 

…His first mission - V’run – watching Raines falling to the ground, run through by the Ork chainsword, as Ramius bellowed at him to move…

 

…His chest cleaved from collar to navel, as the precious progenoid glands carrying the geneseed of Dorn were integrated into his body…

 

…Smashing the alien sword aside and slamming the combat knife into the gut of the Eldar Warlock, cutting through robes and wraithbone, twisting the blade for maximum damage…

 

…Stalking the darkened streets of Tharaciau Prime, hunting the leader of the Chaos coven that plagued the peaceful planet…

 

…Chapter Master Bale’s quarters - he had been selected to join the fabled Legio Bolter and Chainsword…

 

…Training aboard the Divine Hunter, knocking Rhadamanthys to the ground, only for the young marine to sweep his legs from under him…

 

…The dark figure atop the spire, red eyes glaring from the grinning skull…

 

…The plasglass bottle of promethium falling, the hand still wrapped tight around it, and the sigh as the fuel caught…

 

 

A rapid clicking snapped Jarrett’s head up, his hand reaching for his sidearm as decades of training overrode the pain. The rictus grin of a death’s head mocked him, just out of reach. A shock of fear and anger raced through him - Cain! The traitor was here! Jarrett raised the bolt pistol and squeezed off a shot…

 

The roar of the pistol was deafening as Jarrett watched the grinning skull drift lazily to one side to avoid the bolt. Wires and cables swayed gently, hanging like a mockery of a spinal cord below the disembodied braincase. Jarrett blinked, noticing the metal lens clamped over one empty eye socket; the medical implements that jutted from the temporal bones. Aerials sprouted from the occipital bones and emblazoned upon its forehead was the skull and crossbones insignia of the Legio...

 

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Jarrett paused at the archway leading from the temple, and scanned the icons flickering in his faceplate. The servo skull had interfaced with the narthecium in Jarrett’s power armour, stabilising the erratic rhythm of his secondary heart - for now, at least. The full extent of the damage would be determined in the apothecarion upon his return to the Strike Cruiser… assuming he made it back alive. The ‘skull had also injected a fusing agent into his blood stream that even now was knitting together the fracture in his rib plate.

 

The avenue outside was dark, silent, as Jarrett moved soundlessly out from the archway, blending effortlessly into the deeper shadows that ran along the street as he slowly made his way after the other members of his squad…

 

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C'mon guys, time for the OL to get back in gear... :lol:

 

RT

[Aurelius Rex]

The Ordo Literatus have not forgotten about Planetfall: Alcmene. :) Here comes the next installment.

 

To recap:

 

The Imperial planet of Alcmene has fallen to a chaos cultist uprising, and Marines of the Legio Bolter and Chainsword have been dispatched to the scene. On arrival they have routed a host of Word Bearer Marines and their cult allies, and are converging on the Palace.

 

However there are other Chaos powers on Alcmene.

 

Rhadamanthys and Jarrett of Squad Castor have seen the bloody handiwork of Noctus Cain, Night Lord and right hand man of Warmaster Tomax Hell, and the squad led by Sergeant Golgotha formerly of the Scions of Dorn is being stalked by a company of renegade marines of the Order Encarmine. The Scions purged the Order Encarmine on the orders of the Inquisition, and the survivors are eager for retribution.

 

Rogue Trader is well known for his love of flashbacks, well we start our tale with a flashforward...

 

 

 

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Thirteen hours later

Edited December 21, 2004 by Aurelius Rex

[Aurelius Rex]

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Captain Heinlein cursed. By the time his first squads made contact with the Scion of Dorn

[Aurelius Rex]

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The sight of the red and black armour of the Order Encarmine had been like being kicked by a bull-grox! The action against the oath breakers had been the final major engagement before Golgotha had been re-assigned to the Legio more than thirty years ago, and while it was known that several crippled Strike-Cruisers had never been found

Edited December 22, 2004 by Aurelius Rex

[Aurelius Rex]

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With the arrival of Captain Heinlein some semblance of order was finally imposed. Sergeant Kreutzmann stalked amongst the squads who had pulled back into cover and were systematically reducing the building to rubble. With the enemy suppressed, he led three squads closer, close enough in fact for Brother Aachen to cut a gaping hole in the front of the building with his multi-melta. As he rose to advance into the pall of dust and smoke the courtyard erupted in a hail of fire and razor-edged shrapnel. The dampeners on his auto-senses had prevented him from being blinded and deafened, but as his senses returned it was clear that he had been one of the lucky ones. Someone, he supposed Wagner, dragged him to his feet and into what little cover there was, before the unfortunate was thrown to the ground by a bloody hail of bolter-fire.

 

It took him several seconds to realise that the Legio was out of the building. For a moment he saw a black armoured marine track a loaded missile launcher straight at him, but the Emperor must have been smiling on him that day, as the tube continued past him, and upwards on its arc, to inexplicably fire uselessly into the gathering storm above. Heinlein gratefully accepted the gift, and leapt at the marine, powersword raised.