Hoplites-Scout Raid

[ddtedie]

Been a while since I have posted last. Been stuck in Korea and limited access to the internet. However, I wrote this piece as a homage to the book Gates of Fire which inspired my Hoplite SM Chapter.

 

 

 

 

 

I was but a neophyte scout when our company landed on Helspont. The ork warlord Gullsnick had landed his mighty Waagh in hopes of wresting the promethium mines from the hands of the Imeprium. Many valiant warriors of several Imperial Guard regiments had laid down their lives in sacrifice for the Emperor, and still only managed to dent the mighty green tide that swept the planet.

We had moved in and relieved such a company of guardsmen in the wind swept mountain region, when Alexandros, my sergeant called to us. “Hoplites,” he said, “our mission is simple, yet a dangerous one. Across this mountain range the orks have laid in a guns battery. The guard commanders have told Captain Polynikes that below is a basilisk that once belonged to their forces. Now it is being used by these vile creatures. Polynikes has ordered that we scale the mountain, move to the battery, and spike the guns. This will prevent the orks from raining death upon our heads when they make the push through this gap. If the Hoplites can hold them here, the Imperial Navy is working on target resolutions to blow large enough chunks out of the orks to make them push off this rock and back into space. We will use the cover of darkness to make our assault. I want melta bombs packed, ropes prepared, and us ready to move in thirty minutes.”

We moved to quickly prep our kit. I was to carry three melta bombs, along with my combat shotgun. I ensured that I gave the weapon the blessed rites, and said litanies of hate over my melta bombs. I did not want to anger the spirits of the timers when it was time to place these charges. I grabbed a full load of shells for my shotgun, and strapped on another full load to make sure. Inside the ork camp I doubted if I would be able to find reloads, and remembered from my training that orks came in large hordes. I was strapping my gear together when my battle brother Darius moved over to me. Darius and I had been in the same training platoon on Lackedameon, our homeworld, when we had been granted passage into the ranks of the Hoplites. “Xeo” he said to me, “we move out in two, are you ready?”

“As ready as I will ever be. Our first taste of battle, Darius. Do you think we are ready?” I asked him, shouldering my kit.

“As long as we stick to the training of the codex,” he replied, “what force can stand against us? Although, it has been said, that when the orks attack, they throw up such a wall of firepower that the ice itself melts.”

“Good,” said Alexandros, who had heard while he moved to us, “then we shall be warm in our battle! Let’s move scouts.”

We started to move into the mountains as the sun started its descent. The temperature started to drop, and the wind started to pick up. The rock was icy, as we gripped it and climbed up. Even with our augmented muscular frames, our hands and legs soon started to cramp up. The moon had waxed and waned by the time we reached our objective. With my night spotters on, I could make out the battery we were to attack. It was across a frozen pound, with very little cover around. Not good when you are in the infiltration business. We donned our camoeline cloaks, feeling some blessed relief from the wind, when we started to low crawl across the frozen pond. Whatever warmth the cloaks had given us, had now disappeared. I said the litanies of hate to myself to take my mind off the numbing cold. Noiselessly we scooted across the pond and to the other side. Sentries were posted, but they were not the main ork force. The smaller orkoid, known as “gretchin” guarded the encampment. Three man teams of blue cloaked gretchin moved around the camp site, mainly scratching in the dirt and looking for food. They wore bowl type helmets with spikes off the tops, and carried crudely patched auto guns as they roamed about. Every so often, an ork dressed in a blue imperial guard commisars uniform would move about and check on them. With him, a viscous looking reptilian creature on four legs, with a large mouth filled with sharp fangs. We could hear him shout guttural orders to his charges, then move back into the main camp. We crawled to a thicket near the guns, and Alexandros waved us over.

“All right scouts, “ he whispered to us, “ this is it. The basilisk is fifty meters to our left, behind the battery of ork cannons to our front. These creatures don’t seem to be very vigilant, so we will continue to creep into their camp, set the charges for five, then move back along our route. Link up point is back across the pond where we left the ropes. Any questions?” He looked at each of us through his night spotter, and shook his head. We had our orders, it was time to move out.

We began to move again, towards the main guns, when a three gretchin detail came around the other side of the thicket we had used for cover. Two of the little green things were fighting over a leg of meat that looked like it came from some type of bird. The other spotted us. He opened his mouth to scream, when Alexandros put his combat knife through its throat. My other battle brothers bore down on the other two, quickly breaking their necks. As Darius was snapping the thirds neck though, the gretchin bit his arm, causing Darius to cry out in pain. We all froze, as around us, the camp came to life.

“Darius, Xeo,” Alexandros ordered, “base of fire onto the guns. Keep their heads down. Lucian, Marcus, with me!” The night erupted into a hail of fire. Orks came scampering out of their tents near by, and just started firing wildly into the night. With our night spotters on, they became easy targets, and I started firing upon those around the guns with my shotgun. The resilience of the ork hit home to me, as I would hit orks with the shotgun blasts, and they would still advance. Darius was better armed with a bolter, and his explosive rounds would knock them down for good. There were just so many coming out at us, it was overwhelming. One bull ork rushed Darius and I, and I let loose with a volley from the shotgun. I saw it shred the lower part of the beasts jaw, yet it still crashed into me, knocking me over into the snow covered ground. I could feel muscles like steel in its arms, as it attempted to bring a crude axe over its head into my body. I threw the shotgun up to deflect the blow, and the axe smashed through my weapon, just missing my skull by inches. I pulled my combat knife, and stuck it deep into its eye, and the beast collapsed onto my chest. I was having difficulty breathing trying to shuck the ork off my body. As I cleared it, I saw two more vaulting over the cannons to get at me. I pulled my bolt pistol from its holster, and snapped off rounds, cutting down the two as they drew near. Darius was also still nearby, blazing away with his bolter. Orks moved towards our position in droves, bursting apart as Darius went into bolter drill. I stood next to my battle brother, adding shots from my pistol. Still the tide closed in on us. Green flares fired off around the camp, and in the haze, I could see Alexandros and his team, pitted in a fight over the basilisk. Alexandros had pulled out his chainsword, and was slashing and cleaving through orks left and right. His scout armor covered in brackish ork blood. Marcus lay on the ground near the basilisk, his innards spilling out over his armor, as he lay shaking, trying to tuck them back inside. Lucian was no where to be seen.

“Darius, “ I yelled over the roar of the ork guns, “ Alexandros needs our assistance. The attack is faltering!”

“Then we go in glory, or on our shields!” Darius screamed our battle cry. We sprinted over to where Alexandros was, still swinging and hacking at the orks. Darius let loose a burst from the hip as he vaulted over the ork cannon. I gave myself a pause, as I pulled my three metla bombs and placed one on each breach. Then I quickly scrambled to catch up. Darius was now down on one knee, blood streaming from his other as he fired the bolter on short controlled bursts. Alexandros was now with him, pulling him to his feet. Lucian was now back in sight, firing his bolt pistol into the mob of teeming orks.

“Charges are set!” He yelled. Firing onto an ork with a horned helmet that ventured close to Alexandros backside.

“Hoplites, let’s move!” Alexandros ordered. We grabbed Marcus by the back of his armor, and started to withdraw across the pond. Marcus was not moving now, but a Hoplite never leaves a fallen comrade. Alexandros threw him across his shoulder, and ran out onto the pond. Darius, Lucian and I gave cover fire, one would sprint back thirty meters, then lay down a base of fire, while another of us would leap frog past. It went on like this for what seemed an eternity. The sun was now starting to rise over the mountains, and we had a long trek ahead of us, and still the orks kept coming out the camp in pursuit.

As I turned to lay down my supporting fire, a mechanical monster stepped out into the early light. It was a large metal walker on two legs, with large metallic claws moving jerkily off the sides of the construct. Two evil looking ork weapons were also attached, spitting out rounds of slug ammunition as it stomped across the camp. It had zeroed in on us, and was moving to cut off our retreat. “Dreadnought!” I yelled, firing at the metal monstrosity. My bolt pistol rounds clanging ineffectually off its carapace. It vectored in on me, and spewed forth a burst of the metal slug rounds. I had ducked just in time, the rounds missing me by inches, covering me with a spray of snow for my trouble.

“Xeo” I heard Alexandros over the vox link, “ lead it out onto the ice.” He ordered, and I obeyed. I leapt up, fired another two shots clanging off its metal, and sprinted out towards the pond. The lumbering behemoth moved after me, again spraying the ground where I had been. I could hear the claws clanging in anticipation of getting hold of me, and ripping me apart. I hit the ice of the pond, and felt my feet go from under my body. For once in my life, being clumsy had saved me, as I went down, I saw the green tracer rounds from the dreadnought streak over my head. Had I been standing, it would have cut me down. It too, was now on the ice, lumbering towards me. I leapt up again, and sprinted for the far shore. I counted to myself to three, and dove sideways, as again the dreadnought fired a burst at me. I felt one of the rounds crease the back of my calf as I dove for cover, and saw a burn mark through the back of my trouser leg. My adrenaline was pumping, so I felt no pain, as I stood up, and fired another burst from my pistol at it.My rounds still had no effect, as I leapt out of my cover and started to run. This time the dreadnought had found its range, and I felt a burst punch into the backside of my armor. My armor held, but the force of the rounds knocked me off my feet, face first into the ice. My teeth were jarred, and I had bit my tongue. My breath was ragged as I slowly pulled myself to my feet. I thought to myself, at least I had tasted battle as a Hoplite, and hoped the chapter would honor my memory somehow, when all the sudden, Alexandros was across the ice, screaming at the dreadnought.

“Hey,” he shouted at it, firing his own pistol, “over here!” I slumped down, out of breath, wondering what in the Emperor’s name Alexandros was doing. He was our squad leader, and needed to get Marcus to safety. I watched in horror, as the dreadnought turned on Alexandros, and blazed away at him with its weaponry. I saw Alexandros take the rounds in his arm, cutting it free from his body in a wash of blood. I then saw what Alexandros had in his other arm, lobbed out onto the ice at the dreadnoughts feet. As the melta bomb went off, blowing a large chunk of ice below its feet, sinking it into the pond, our charges went off in the camp. A geyser of metal and debris rose up from where the guns battery and the basilisk had been. We had succeeded in our mission.

Back in the pass, Polynikes and the rest of the Hoplites had held, cutting off Gullsnick from the promethium mines. The Imperial Navy, true to its word, had finally figured out the firing solutions, as orbital torpedoes rained in on the ork camp, flattening it in mighty bursts of plasma. The warlord Gullsnick had been beaten to a point where he could no longer continue the attack. We watched as the Imperial Navy fighters continued to pound the orks, pushing them back and finally wiping them out. No sign of Gullsnick was found, but large numbers of their dead lay spread across the icy fields. Alexandros was honored amongst us Hoplites for his daring raid into the camp, and his arm replaced by a fine tuned bionic. He was given his choice of assignments to any of the chapters tactical squads, yet he choose to remain a scout. Marcus, unfortunately, did not survive the fight, and his gene seed was collected back into the chapter, and his name placed in the book of honor. Myself and Darius went on to become full battle brothers, fighting in various tactical squads, but that is a story for another time.

[Ferrata]

Printed Out - Read Tongiht

 

Ferrata

[Ferrata]

:lol: :devil: Wow, that was an amazing story :tu:

 

[ddtedie]

That quote was in fact what King Leonaides said when they were told about the Persian arrows. I thought it was just too cool not to pass up. The book Gates of Fire was excellent, and really drove home my desire to do up an SM Chapter of Spartan types. And, I will have to agree with you on the whole "scooted" thing. Sometimes, I just don't catch things like that until someone else reads them. Anyway, thanks for the kind words, and I am glad you enjoyed the story.

[Ferrata]

Oh, just another thing. You might want to put a line spacing between paragraphs and speech, would make it easier to read. So instead of this

 

[Race Bannon]

Yay Ferrata! :blush:

[Ferrata]

Yay Ferrata!

 

::cuss: ?????

 

Ferrata