# 409



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Hello all! This is another little fiction I've been scribbling down between the margins of my notebooks, and I've come up with another cast of characters. This one has gone through several revisions, and an entire cast change at least once, so point out anything you see as odd or not fitting; it's probably from the changes.

Enjoy!
-Dirge

Chapters:

1- F.N.G.
2- HARD LANDING
3- WELCOME TO THE 409TH
4- BLOWTORCH & NAILGUN
5- GUARDIAN ANGEL
6- H.A.L.O.
7- ARRIVAL
8- ALL IN
9- LAST RESORT
10- WORDS AND DEEDS
11- DEBRIEF
12- EPILOGUE 

Dramatis Personae
----------------------

ZULU SQUAD, B COMPANY 409TH ORBITAL DROP JET JUMPERS

Capt. Damien Sable 
Lt. Erica Gray
Sgt Maj. Robert Daniels
Sgt. Holden Rostock
Cpl. Sarah Lorien
Pfc. Leonard Richards
Spc. Rachel Jackson
Pvt. David "Fish" Flint

ECHO WING 409TH DROP JET SUPPORT

Valkyrie A-0227 "Angel"

Eich "Ike" Samuels- Pilot, VA-0227

INQUISITION

Inquisitor Lord Pontius Estelle

Scribener Gregor Harks

-------------------------------------

PREFACE
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INQUISITORIAL REPORT
Subject- Inspection (Imperial Guard Regiment)

Regiment- 409th ODJJ 

World- N/A

Operational Strength- 547 Active Duty, 2,391 KIA, 42 MIA

Regiment Type: Drop Troopers

Grade (P/F): (Pass- See notes)

Any Improvments- Needs disciplinary work. Assign Commisar at first opprotunity. Fail to salute. Fail to wear uniforms correctly. Fail to display all rank insignia. Borderline Insubordination. Modification of weapons. Fail to observe correct weapons drills. Fail to respect the glorious Departmento Munitorum. Failure to mantain an appearance befitting the Imperial Guard. 

RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE TRANFER TO PENAL LEGION, DISBAND REGIMENT.

-Munitorum Marshal Steven Dahw

INQUISITORIAL OVERRIDE- CODE MAGENTA

Voxcorder Active- Transcript as follows.

"Why is it every time the OD-Double J comes up for Inspection it always lands on my desk?"

"Lord Estelle, I beg you, sir. Look at their CSR."

"I have, Gregor. Now what's this about?"

"Well, the Quientan XI campaign. The 409th is expected."

"What if I refuse?"

"They need the troops, lord."

"500 men? Turn the tide of a WAR? Ha!"

"What is their combat record, Lord?"

"Let me see... 57 actions in the past two years. All objectives fulfilled, casualties running at 54%."

"And their morale?"

"High. Reports indicate willingness to fight."

"Then my lord, what might you say is the proper course of action?"

"Gregor, what would you have me do?"

"Pardon them, lord. Just like last month."

Transcript Ends.
-----------------------

"Captain, when the hell are we going to get there?"

"Shut up, Erica. We'll get there when these navy trolls kick this tub into gear."


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

sounds like a good story so far Dirge :grin: waiting on your next one as usual

Sniper


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## zboy234 (Dec 29, 2007)

40k's BAD COMPANY FINALLY!!!

looks good:grin:


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

F.N.G.

Private David Flint opened the elevator. A hallway stretched out for ten feet, ending at a door with a bored-looking man in a folding chair.

"Private Flint reporting as ordered, sir." said Flint crisply, snapping off a salute.

The man looked up. He was in his late twenties, a pair of dark fatigue pants and a grey tank top with DANIELS-409 stenciled on it adorning his muscled frame. A tattoo that read DROP JET JUMPERS was burned into his right arm.

"Look Fish. I'm not the god-damned Emperor. So shut that salute up. Captain's inside."

Flint's hand dropped, his expression surprised horror.

"Am I in the right place, Sergeant? 409th Drop Jet?"

"Oh, sorry Fish. Thought you were another newbie straight out of Basic. Yep. B Company Zulu squad. Best unit in the Guard."

"Stop calling me Fish. My name's Flint. David Flint."

"Whatever Fish. You survive your third drop, we'll learn your name. Until then, you're "Fish"."

Flint sighed. He walked past the man and opened the door. A soldier in full drop armor knocked into him, spilling a crate of ammo and ration packs onto the floor.

"Damn it all!" the soldier shouted, removing the full-faced helmet. Brown hair spilled out of it, revealing a woman's features twisted in frustration.

"Want to watch who you're stepping on?!" she said, stooping over to pick up the dropped items. Flint stared in confusion. 

"You're a..." he began.

"Oh, Emperor. Every green-assed Fish that comes in here thinks it's _insane that there are actually women_ in the 409th. Guess what, Fish? I can bench more then you can get crushed by, so frak off."

"Ah. OK." said Flint, stepping around the woman, who was still cursing lowly. He stepped across the atrium, noticing a half-dozen rooms leading off into the walls. The far wall had one door in it, with another woman in a low-cut tank top sitting next to it, cleaning a long rifle with a brush. Her shirt read JACKSON-409.

"Um. Hi. I'm Private Flint, here to see Captain Sable?" said Flint catiously. The woman looked up, then her face broke into a smile. She stood up, wiping the cleaning oil off onto her fatigues, and shook his hand.

"Specialist Rachel Jackson." said the woman. She indicated the door. "Captain's in there."

The door opened and a man in his middle thirties stared for a second at Flint. He indicated his room, and David stepped inside. The place was spartan, a desk covered in data-slates and maps dominating the room. A cot was set into the wall, and a neat stack of books sat next to it, under a lamp. A menacing suit of carapace Drop Armor hung on the wall, and a matching Hellgun rested against the desk.

"So you're the new Fish." said Sable, sitting behind his desk. He placed his hands together, rubbing his palms. 

"Flint, let me be honest with you. The 409th has the highest casualty rate short of the Penal Legions and the Death Korps. It's entirely volunteer. Now I've got a nice posting to the 32nd Cadian. Garrison duty. Running water. Easy street."

Flint looked at the opened data slate, and pushed it back towards the Captain. 

"No thanks, sir. With respect I've been trained as a Drop Jet trooper. It's what I've dreamed of being ever since the recruiters came to my homeworld."

Sable smiled slowly, scratching his beard stubble. "Glad to hear it, Private. Welcome to Zulu."


"Thank you sir."

"Report to Arms for your gear, Private. I'll send Rostock with you, he knows the ship."

"Rostock, sir?"

"Your immediate superior, private. Sergeant Holden Rostock."

"Very good, sir."

"Dismissed."

David nodded and opened the door.

"And private?"

He turned. "Yes, Captain?"

"You're rooming with Richards. Pack your gear there."

"Very good, Captain."

He closed the door, walking to the door marked RICHARDS. A second name had been recently removed. Flint could still see the marking LOSKINS where the glue had stuck to the metal.

Richards was a very young man, perhaps twenty two at oldest. He was sitting on his bunk with a battered dataslate opened. He shut it off quickly as Flint opened the door.

"What? Oh, Fish. Alright. Thought it might be Lieutenant Gray. She keeps taking the pics off."

"What's the slate for?"

"What's it for, or what do _I_ use it for?"

Flint dropped his kitbag onto the other bed. "Do I want to know?"

"Well, Fish, since you asked so nicely, this is a MAJCOM slate used for op planning and high storage capacity. I use it to organize a large amount of rather salacious holopics."

Flint held up a hand to stop him.

"Whatever. I don't want to know anymore."

A knock sounded on the door. Lieutenant Gray and a man with ROSTOCK on his fatigues opened the door.

"You." said Gray, pointing to Richards. "Give me that."

He reluctantly handed her the slate. A few pics popped up as she turned it on. A mem-stick appeared in her hand and she tapped a few keys, then handed the device back to Richards. She placed the mem-stick in the breast pocket of her shirt, buttoning it.

"And you. With him." she said, pointing first to Flint, then to Rostock. The Sergeant nodded. 

"Come on, Fish."

Flint followed Rostock down the hallway, past Daniels, who was now asleep with a holoslate across his chest. Rostock caught the leg of his chair with a booted foot and Daniels collapsed to the floor, staring murder into the Sergeant's back.

The elevator deposited them onto the Arms floor of the 409th's level on the _Imperical_, a large Troopship en route to Quientan XI. A major behind the armory counter looked at Rostock with weary resignation.

"Zulu, right?" he asked, checking off a list. "Here you go, Fish."

He pushed a heavy duffel bag across the counter. Rostock unzipped it, and ran a practiced eye over the contents.

"Where's the rest?" he asked, zipping the bag back up.

The arms master sighed.

"Come on, Guns, if Fish survives, we get to learn his name."

The man looked at Rostock. "What an experience. Another New Fish."

He pushed a box containing a half-dozen grenades, a melta bomb, and a Hellpistol across the counter.

"Thank you." said Rostock, tossing the box on top of the duffel bag, then handing the whole assortment over to Flint.

"Come again, by all means." said the Arms Master, throwing an arm to indicate the near-empty armory.

-------------------------------------------

"And that part goes _there_."

Richards tightened something. A small _click_ sounded inside the hot, uncomfortable armor. A white light blinded him, then resolved into a blue-tinged heads-up-display. The armor's interior suddenly loosened, allowing him to move, and a breath of air moved across his face. 

"There you go." said Richards, similarly clad in full armor. Flint's was the standard dark grey camoflague of the 409th, but Richards had customized his with a second combat knife, and daubs of blue paint supplementing the camo.

"Grab your kit, we're leaving." said Gray, standing against the door. Her armor was more complex, a dozen pouches adorning her bulkier chest plate. A light was attached to her shoulderpad, and an auspex hung from her belt. 

The trio met the rest of the team in the elevator. Captain Sable's armor was customized with red slashes across his face, chest, and shoulders. He gave a polite nod to the three as they walked in.

"Nice day." he said. Gray nodded.

"It is. Shame we've got to spoil it."

Sable took a small holoslate from his fatigue pocket. The elevator deposited them into a narrow hallway. Sable took the first right, into an octagonal room with restraints along the walls.

"Alright team." he said, deploying the slate. A city flashed into existance. 

"This is Donovan. Largest city on the planet. Civies started rioting a few months ago, turned into a full-scale rebellion. Not Chaotic, supposedly, but we'll see about that. Our objective is to drop onto the main water and power stations to Donovan, and knock them out. Daniels, you got the demo charges from Procurement?"

"Of course."

"Very good. Plan is to enter at any level, work our way to the sluices. Jackson, you're on cover, with Rostock. Gray and Richards, you're on point. Lorien and Daniels are tail. I'm with Fish in the center."

Gray nodded, and the team dispersed, strapping themselves into the curious restraints against the wall.

"What is this?" asked Flint, as Lorien tightened her harness next to him.

"It's an.... elevator. Yeah." she replied. 

"Are we going to the hanger deck?"

"A little lower, Fish." she said, clamping her Hellgun to the webbing across her chest.

"The hangar deck's the lowest part of the ship... Oh, shi-"

The drop-pod blasted from the _Imperical_'s belly at over two thousand klicks per hour.


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## Vaz (Mar 19, 2008)

Reminds me of the opening slightly of 15 Hours - not least from Fish, and the naming procedure.

Dirge, you spoil us =)))) Goody, a new story. =D


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## zboy234 (Dec 29, 2007)

he never saw it coming...poor fishie, fish fingers anyone? liking it dirge, my ork/ alter ego is screaming "WEZE WANTZ MORE HUMIE!" 

Cheers,

Zboy234


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks. I took the time to skim over _15 Hours_, trying to get a feel for veterans. "Fish" is also blatantly stolen from that book.

HARD LANDING

The pod shook wildly as the atmosphere buffeted it from all sides. The squad sat calmly, all except Flint, who was looking around wildly, his HUD displaying a frightening series of altimeter readings.

"Emperor..." he moaned, the shaking of the pod making him sick. Lorien looked at him, her face blank behind the visor of her helmet.

"Don't throw up in that suit, Fish. Not good. Not good at all."

He groaned slightly. The pod shook slightly as a pocket of dense air smashed into it. The altimeter read 2823. He leaned forward, feeling the immense pressure on the back of his neck. The altimeter read 1128.

A _bang_ echoed through the pod, throwing everything not bolted down around the cramped space. An ammo box clanked off the wall next to Flint's head, leaving a fist-sized dent in the metal.

"Thrusters in three...two...one." said Sable, and Flint felt the deceleration through his boots. The pod rattled, and a second _bang_ made the pod shudder. The entire structure rolled over.

"That's not good." said Captain Sable. A fat yellow handle extended from the wall above his head. He grabbed it and pulled hard. A screech that made Flint's teeth hurt sounded, and the pod righted suddenly, the feeling of deceleration increased tenfold. The altimeter read 209.

The pod slammed into the ground, sending all the loose detrius flying againt. The ammo box returned to Flint's side of the compartment, smashing into the same dent it had made before and doubling the size of the bent metal. Lorien grunted softly as a powerpack hit her in the stomach. After what seemed like an eternity, the pod finally stopped shaking.

"Pod down! Report!" yelled Gray, pulling her Hellgun from the straps. The troopers in the bay sounded off. 

Sable unstrapped himself from the pod and crossed the space to a wall with nothing but a red handle on it. He pulled the handle, and a double line of bolts fired along the wall. The pod's side fell away, revealing the smoke-blenched city of Donovan. The city was built of tasteful tan stone and glass. A pall of clouds lay above the city, punctured by the pods' descent. A blackened crater lay around their pod, filled with rubble and broken rebar. A streetlamp near their crash site flickered. The Aquila emblazoned on it was untouched.

"Well, not Chaos." said Gray, pointing at the Aquila.

Sable nodded at the sign. Flint walked around the pod, looking for extra weapons and ammo. He picked up a set of enlongated clips.

"What are these-" he began. Rachel appeared next to him, cradling the sniper rifle, and snatched the bullets out of his hand. 

"Thanks Fish." she said. She snapped the bullets to her pack.

One side of the pod was broken, a length of metal cable trailing from it. A thick piece of metal was hanging on the end of the cable.

"Airbrakes failed." said Richards, nudging the cable. "Damned thing."

"Where's the water plant sarge?" asked Rachel, cocking the sniper.

Sable answered as Daniels began to.

"Two klicks due west. We landed a bit off-course."

"A bit." replied Daniels, heaving a dented demolition charge from the wreck.

"Yes. Now let's get moving. We've only got a few hours until the Guard start their assault."


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Awesome stuff Dirge, can't wait to read more!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

WELCOME TO THE 409TH

Gray and Richards threw their backs against the door. Flint ran forward and kicked it in, sending splinters flying.

Sable, Lorien, and Rachel all ran inside, their Hellguns aimed and ready.

The pub was empty. Richards walked inside, opening the preservor behind the bar.

"Well, they've still got electricity." he said, removing his helmet to grab a sandwich from the fridge. He took a bite.

"Salt grox and cheese." he said. "Delicious."

A shout rose from outside.

"Might want to finish your snack." said Rachel, staring down the sights of her rifle.

Richards set the food down on a table, cocking his hellgun. Sable leaned out from cover, looking at the shouter.

"Civvies, five. Melee weapons three, firearms two. Grab some cover, fire for effect."

Rachel's weapon bucked and a massive _blam!_ echoed through the pub. A man holding a battered autogun fell, most of his chest gone. A second shot rang out, and a woman clutching a laspistol fell, her legs blown away. The remaining three looked around. 

Sable and Daniels opened up with short bursts of hellgun fire, killing two. The third broke and ran as his friends died, and Rachel caught him high in the back with a third shot.

"Nice one, Candy." said Rostock, without looking up from his auspex.

"Don't call me Candy, jackass." said Rachel, reloading the massive rifle.

"Oh, little touchy today, Candy?"

"I swear to god, Rostock."

Richards broke up the arguement by interposing himself between the two, and taking a massive bite of the sandwich. Crumbs fell down his front.

"Wehl, I jus thin we all need to cahm dohn." said Richards, spilling more crumbs onto his chestplate.

Sable nodded in wry amusement. "You kill people for a living, son. Calming down isn't in your vocabulary."

Daniels gave Richards a light shove. "True, Captain. Budge up, soldier. Let's get moving."

Richards pushed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and put his helmet back on. Sable patted the trooper on the shoulder and Zulu moved out, crossing the street to the water plant. 

"Who's taking out the power station?" asked Gray. 

"Eric's lot." replied Sable, kneeling to place a thin stripe of what looked like red tape along the doorhinge.

"Oh, great. Angel's going to be picking them up first then?"

"You guessed it."

Sable leaned back, letting Gray attach a little metal stripe to the end of the tape.

"What's that?" asked Flint.

"Thermal tape." said Rachel. "Cuts at fourty-five hundred feet per second. Rapid entry doesn't get much more rapid then this."

"Clear!" yelled Sable, turning from the tape. Flint's antiblast visor kicked in as the tape melted right through the three-inch thick plasteel door. The door fell inwards, and Zulu spread out into the room. A massive pipe fed through to a warehouse-sized vat of water, out of which a multitude of pipes exited into the ceiling. Catwalks were draped seemingly at random, except for a large concrete gateway which was devoid of the walkways.

"That's the sluice." said Sable, pointing. "We're going to knock on the door."

Daniels unclipped the demo charge from his pack. The team spread out, Lorien and Rachel heading up the the catwalks, while Gray and Richards took the other side of the tank. Flint, Daniels, Rostock, and Sable took the other side, the three troopers surrounding Daniels, who was carrying the demo charge.

They reached the edge of the warhouse without difficulty. Daniels knelt to set the charges.

"Contact." said Rachel, high above them on the catwalk.

"How many?"

"Ten. Nine firearms, one chainsword."

"PDF weapons?"

"Affirmative, sir. Permission to engage?"

"Negative. Gray, Richards, flanking maneuvers. Cover the approaches. If they get within one hunded paces of the charge, fire at will."

"Twenty seconds, sir." said Daniels. 

"You've got fifteen, trooper." responded Sable. He leveled his hellgun and moved to a concrete barrier overlooking the main approach to the sluice. Flint followed him, leaving Rostock to look after Daniels. 

"Sir, they're closing fast. Repeat request."

"Permission granted, Specialist. Waste them."

A series of shots and subsequent screaming indicated Rachel and Lorien had entered the fight. A second later, two hellguns opened up as Gray and Richards joined in.

"Captain! Three closing on your position! They've got a flamer, sir!"

Two men and a woman rounded the corner, the first heaving a canister and a massive barreled flamethrower.

"Shit!" yelled Sable, ducking. A roaring sheet of fire passed over their heads. 

Flint raised his hellgun over the lip of the barrier, firing blind. For a moment, the Emperor gave him his eye, and the front man caught a bolt to the stomach, doubling over. The flamer tripped over his friend. Sable stood up with his sidearm in one hand and hellgun in the other. He put a shot into the flamer's fuel tank, immolating both men. The woman howled in fury and raised a lasgun. Flint was faster, shooting the woman between the eyes. Her head exploded, and she collapsed backwards.

"Done, boss. Ready to go." Daniels voxed. He and Rostock rounded the corner, Daniels holding the detonator in one hand.

"To the roof. Gray, Richards, disengage! Get to the roof! Rachel, Lorien, you're rearguard."

"Copy that."

The squad ran to a metal ladder leading up to the catwalks. Rachel gave them a nod as they passed, meeting Gray and Richards at the base of the staircase to the roof.

"Ready to go, sarge?" she said to Daniels.

"You betcha." he said. Rostock nodded at Rachel, who sported a red splatter of blood across her front.

"Didja get to knife one, Candy?"

"As a matter of fact I did." she snarled.

Daniels hit the red button on the top of the detonator. A thunder grew beneath the squad's feet as thousands of gallons of water blew out the side of the warehouse, flooding nearly a quarter of Donovan before hitting the city walls. The tank imploded, falling in great sheets of metal. The walkways were dragged down as the tank collapsed. Rostock pulled Flint onto the roof.

"Alpha two-seven this is Zulu, come in, over." voxed Gray, her hand pressed against her helmet.

"Zulu this is two-seven. Nice work. Saw that one from altitude."

"Thanks two-seven. We could use some E & E, over."

"Negative, Zulu. Gotta pick up Delta first."

Gray cursed lowly. "Eric's lot."

"Copy that, Zulu. Two-seven out."

Rachel was looking over the edge of the warehouse.

"Uh, captain?" she said.

"We've got people coming. They don't look friendly."


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

awesome, cliffhanger much. This is the kinda story I like!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

BLOWTORCH & NAILGUN

"How many "people" are we talking?" asked Sable, kneeling. He removed a fat device from his pack, pulling an antenna up out the top. A small light began to flash.

"Maybe fifty, two landcars that could hold about ten each. So... seventy, roughly."

"Rostock, use the amplivisor. Give me a solid number."

"Very good, sir."

Rostock and Rachel left for the edge of the roof. Lorien dragged a concrete slab upright, covering their position. 

"The beacon's down." said Sable. "Angel'll find us."

"Or what's left of us." said Daniels.

"Thank you for that statement, Sarge. I think you should select the interpretation that inspires you the most." replied Richards.

Flint looked over the edge. The people below were armed, most lasguns and autoguns, though he saw flickering flamer pilot lights at least twice. The crowds reached the egde of the warehouse, filing in remarkably calmly in the waist-deep water.

"We got company, captain. Eighty-two." said Rostock, lowering the amplivisor.

"Alright. Everyone back. Angel's going to pull a touch-and-go."

The squad took cover behind the sparse cover surrounding the warehouse's coleopter pad. A shout sounded as the crowd discovered their dead companions below. The sounds of booted feet stomped up the stairs.

"How are we going to beat so many?" asked Flint.

"Fish, we've held positions with nothing but two blowtorches and a nailgun. We'll be fine." replied Richards.

"And we had to share the nailgun." added Gray.

The first man cleared the doorway, and caught a bolt to the head. It exploded, and a howl of rage echoed up the hall. People poured onto the landing pad, taking cover.

Lasbolts and bullets flashed back and forth. Flint was flat against the concrete, whispering a prayer.

"Fish! Get the hell up! We need all the guns we can get!" yelled Rostock. He hauled Flint up by the collar of his armor.

"What about the gunfire?!" yelled Flint, gesturing at the waves of lasbolts flying above them.

Sable rolled to their piece of cover. The captain had two pocks in his armor where bullets had hit, and a lasburn on his helmet. 

"Fish," he said, remarkably calm under fire, "It's one thing for them to see us. It's another entirely for them to do anything about it."

Flint swallowed, and nodded. He rose up from cover, firing his weapon. Two people fell over, a half-dozen lasbolts shredding their bodies. A man wielding a huge wrench dove over the barricade, screaming. Rostock's weapon came up, beating him back. The sergeant drew his sidearm and put a shot through his chest. The man collapsed. Lorien sat behind a pillar with Rachel, holding her Hellgun and Rachel's in either hand. Rachel had the sniper out, dropping three enemies with each shot as it passed through their unarmored bodies.

A lasbolt smashed into Flint's shoulder, throwing him backwards. He half expected the boiling, sledgehammer force of the impact; he'd been shot before. But his armor's HUD simply indicated he'd been shot, and it had held. A crackling radio broadcast echoed over their comlinks.

"Zulu, this is Two-Seven entering your airspace. Dustoff in ten seconds."

"Two-Seven, you got any fireworks planned for tonight?"

"I wasn't planning on it, Zulu, but you can work something out. Two-Seven out."

Sable nodded to Daniels. The entire squad pulled two grenades off their vests, fingers on the pins. 

A low hum filled the air as Valkyrie Two-Seven touched down on the pad.

"GO!" yelled Sable, tossing the grenades. Sixteen metal eggs bounced once, twice, then detonated. The captain picked Richards up by his collar and ran for the ship. Flint's boots hit the boarding ramp, and he turned back to see the devastation.

A sharp _crack_ split the air, and Flint fell backwards.

"Oh, dammit. Is Fish dead already? We didn't even get to learn his name."

"He lasted longer then the last one."

"He's not dead, idiot. Help me get him on the shuttle."

Flint distantly felt the sudden lurch as the ground dropped away.

"Mission accomplished, Captain."

"Yep. Good work everybody. Ike, get us the hell outta here."


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Awesome, nice work Dirge, more!


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

well Dirge I was right its another of your finest:victory:
but wait there is probably more.... hmmmm and now we wait
man waiting is boring:biggrin: waaiting on your next instalment as allways

Sniper


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## crabpuff (Aug 5, 2008)

aaaahhhhhhh!!! ooohhhhhhh.....
Any one got a tissue.

Great work.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

GUARDIAN ANGEL

"Ike" proved to be Eich Samuels, their pilot. The man was tall, wiry, and walked with the long lope of a spacer. He sat at the controls, directly behind his gunner, Ferik Thatcher. The pair were lifelong friends, both having grown up on the _New Pheonix_ drifter colony, in the Eastern Fringe.

VA-0227 set down lightly on the troopship's hanger deck, it's rear ramp descending slowly. Sable was first out, followed by the rest of Zulu. Flint was helped along by Rachel, who sat him down on a crate. She knelt down, placing her hands on either side of his helmet. Easing it off, Flint noticed her own armor was covered in horrific spatters of red paint, like a man had exploded nearby. He blinked slowly, making sure it was paint. He pointed dumbly, his muscles still not responding properly.

"Like the paint?" Rachel asked. "It's all show. I prefer Kaeti here." she said, rolling her shoulder to indicate the massive sniper.

She felt his temples, moving a gloved finger across the yellow patch over his eye.

"Woah. That's gonna be a monster of a bruise. Hard round shattered your visor. Lucky it didn't blind you."

Flint looked at his helmet. The thin sheet of glasteel was smashed, most of the pieces gone. A jagged line around the mounting remained.

Richards helped him up, leaving Rachel to help a few wounded members of Delta off the Valkyrie. Samuels vaulted down from the cockpit, his flight helmet under one arm.

"Nice ride, huh ladies? Chalk up another in the win column for Ike!" he yelled. Thatcher pulled a small bottle from his vest, spraying a tally mark under WIN on the Valkyrie's nose. A two-sided graph, one side LOSE, one side WIN, was applied next to a picture of a naked woman with white wings extending from her back. "VA-0227 Angel" was written in cursive script under the woman. Flint smiled as he saw the LOSE column was empty, while the WIN column was nearly overflowing. Thatcher and Samuels pounded fists, then walked across the deck toward the pilots' quarters. Sable picked Flint up, helping him to the elevator.

He sat for a time on his bed, trying to clear his abused head. His vision was better, and he could now move like he used to. Rostock took him back down to the armory a while later.

"Son, do you know how much this stuff costs?" asked the arms master. 

"I don't care. I just want another one." replied Rostock. 

"That's all you ever want." the armorer said. He reached under the desk, pulling a pristine replacement out from the box.

"Anything else?" he asked sarcastically, gesturing to the empty shelves.

"No, I'm good for now. Oh! Wait, I forgot. I need a Hellstorm Cannon, Captain's request." said Rostock, handing the helmet to Flint.

"Smartass. Get out." chuckled the arms master. 

They travelled back up the elevator, walking back through the hallway that Daniels had occupied on Flint's first visit. The atrium of Zulu's quarters was now covered in odds and ends. Disassembled weapons, armor, random bolt-ons, and eight stacks of five types of camoflague dominated the room. A rocket launcher sat against Daniels' and Rostock's door. Daniels, Gray, and Sable were among the detrius, picking up random bits and bobs. As Flint and Rostock watched, Richards exited his room, crossed the atrium, grabbed the rocket launcher, and retreated to the room he shared with Flint. Rachel and Lorien were nowhere to be seen.

"What's going on?" asked Flint.

"Inventory day." said Sable matter-of-factly. He pulled a box of power cells from the ground, carefully stacking it atop a pile of similar boxes.

"All the gear we might need for this campaign." explained Rostock, giving Flint a little shove.

"Go ahead. Grab yourself some toys, kiddo."

Flint took a spare light from a short stack of snap-on components, and a few extra grenades. He picked up what looked like a piece of tubing, except it had a trigger at the very rear, and a drum clip attached to the bottom.

"What's this?" he asked. Gray looked up.

"Grenade launcher bolt-on." she said.

He added the weapon to his stack and walked into his room, dumping the treasures onto his kitbag. Richards was laying on his bed, the rocket launcher set against the wall beside a crate of rockets.

"How's it?" asked Richards, indicating his head.

"Fine."

"Meet anybody in medicae? Some of those nurses are pretty hot."

"What? No! I didn't go to medicae."

"Oh. Pity. Have you met *anyone* you like yet?"

"Rachel seems nice."

"She's not your type."

"She's yours?"

"No." explained Richards. He sat up, looking at the ceiling, then looking back to Flint.

"By "your" type, I meant me, you, Sable, Daniels, and Rostock."

"She likes Eich?"

"No, dammit!"

"Then what?" asked Flint. He began to remove his armor, stacking the plates on his bed.

"Let me put it this way. That room she shares with Lorien? It only has one bed."

"Um...OK. Isn't that heresy? Shouldn't we report that?"

"Hey man, don't ask, don't tell. Besides, you don't want to."

Gray entered the room, carrying a set of fatigues. She deposited them on top of Richards.

"It's for the best." she said.

"What is going on?" asked Flint.

"Well, it's Sable, really." she said. "The old Fish, Loskins. A commissar on E deck found him smoking, shot him for narcotic abuse."

"So? It's disobeying the regs."

Richards snorted. "Yeah. Eventually, Herr Kommissar got a little nudge out the airlock. Everybody's kind of glossed over Zulu's little "problems" ever since."

"He's insane?" Flint said incredulously. 

"Not really. He's just one of the people that fights red hot. He cares, genuinely. His wife got killed on Mersa, during the Chaos incursion. He doesn't take shit on any of his troops. To everybody except Ike and us, he's ice."

Gray sat next to Flint on the bed, making it squeal in protest as the heavy armor squashed it. 

"Frankly, everybody on the ship is terrified of him, ever since Loskins was killed. That's why we don't do requisition orders. Rostock and the arms master are kind of friends, so that's the bickering. It's not real." she said.

"Well, all this makes some sense...I'm still getting over the Rachel thing."

Gray stood up, opening the door. "Don't sweat it, Fish. She's made her decision."

Richards gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. "There's other Fish out there, Fish." he snickered. Flint punched him back, smiling.

Richards' face fell. He grabbed a bayonet on the table. Flint's eyes widened as the knife rose, a look of murder on Richards' face.

The knife stopped. "Got ya." said Richards, and winked. He tossed the bayonet on the bed and walked out. Flint stared at the man with a mix of humor and horror. As he opened the door, Flint leaned out, catching a glimpse of Rachel's door opening. She walked out, looking ragged. Rostock's head appeared in the mass of gear strewn about.

"You're wearing your spotter's pants, Candy." he said, chuckling to himself. Rachel looked down, seeing LORIEN-409 stenciled on the leg.

"Frakhead." she said, tossing a power cell at him. Rostock took cover behind a stack of ration boxes. Rachel turned and walked back into her room.

Richards closed the door, laughing. Flint joined in, filling the tiny barracks room with echoing laughter. Rostock opened the door, bringing a small crate with him. He held up a small pack.

"Tarot, anyone?"


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

H.A.L.O.

Flint sat in the bay of VA-0227, alongside Zulu. Sable was at the drop doors, a set of colored lights dead above him. Gray, Daniels, and Richards sat next to him, with Flint, Lorien, Rostock, and Rachel on the other. Theta Squad was further in the dropship. Eich gave the squads a once-over, then nodded and closed the cockpit door.

"And away we go." he voxed. The dropship lurched out the side of the troop carrier, joining a half-dozen others. The first wave had left the ship by drop-pod two hours before. 

The Valkyrie rocked slowly as the ship hit the atmosphere. 

"Shit. Heads up squads. LZ has active triple-A."

"Civvies? Triple A? Come on, Eich. It's small-arms." snarled Sable, looking out the drop bay window.

"It's unguided, but there's hundreds of shoulder-launched coming up."

"It's one in a million." said Daniels. A shock wave buffeted the Valkyrie.

"Two-Nine going down! Two-Nine, mayday, mayday! Bailing out, weapons free!"

"One in a million, huh smartass?" growled Eich from the cockpit.

Daniels looked at the floor.

The lights in the bay turned red.

"Red light. Helmets and weapons, Zulu." ordered Sable.

The squad stood up. Sable stopped dead, a hand pressed to his helmet.

"Zulu. Omega's called in a Black Ace."

Every soldier in the bay stopped. A Black Ace was the 409th's worst nightmare. A request for immediate extraction from an unwinnable battle. It was the last step before a rout.

"We're going in." said Gray suddenly. Sable nodded. Eich's voice came over the speaker.

"Sorry, Zulu. We're over their zone now. Fire's too heavy for us to land."

"HALO it is, then."

Richards looked at him with an expression of shock. "With Fish? It's his second sortie!"

"Good a time as any. Green light us, Eich. See you in hell."

The Valkyrie stopped in the air, the light turned green, and the bay doors opened. Zulu stepped up to the abyss. The altimeter in Flint's helmet read 15207.

"Alright kiddo." said Rachel, stepping up next to him. "See that icon on your HUD? The one in the top left?"

Flint nodded.

"When the altimeter reads 500, look at it and blink twice. There are two jump jets in the base of your pack. Hence the name, Drop Jet Jumpers. Alright?"

Flint saw Sable and Gray dive out of the Valkyrie. Richards and Daniels were next, followed by Rostock. Lorien and Rachel pounded fists, and she nodded to Flint, gesturing at the door.

"Um, I heard you and-"

"Later, Fish! Go now!"

She planted a boot into the small of Flint's back, and shoved him out the bay doors. He yelped in shock as the world whistled by, the Valkyrie passing far above him. He flashed by Daniels, who yelled to Rostock. The sergeant reached out an arm, catching Flint as he flew by. Rostock dragged him horizontal, allowing him to control his flight.

The altimeter read 7391.

He saw strobes of light flash from the wreckage of Valkyrie Two-Nine as Omega fought bitterly against nearly two hundred civilian rioters armed with a motley collection of firearms. The tallest of Donovan's spires flashed by. 

The altimeter read 512. Flint looked up. The altimeter read 509. He blinked twice.

A shock smashed him upwards, and his hearing was filled with a roar as twin drop jets arrested his fall. He slowed until he got to twenty feet, landing in a mass of rubble fifty feet from the Valkyrie's wreckage. Omega Squad, now down to five soldiers, fought among the bodies of nearly fifty rioters. 

"Go!" yelled Sable, running into the mass of people, lobbing grenades.

The crowd turned, unsure for a second as the sudden burst of fire from the newcomers cut down their fighters. A missile lanced into their ranks, blasting nearly a score of the rioters into red paste and shrapnel. A series of teeth bounced cheerfully off Flint's helmet. Hellgun fire chewed through flesh and bone. The civilians looked back and forth, caught in the savage crossfire. A few shots flew out of the group, and Flint saw Lorien fall, a red splotch opening up on her stomach.

Sable cursed lowly. The crowd began to group together.

"Go back to your Emperor!" shrieked the nearest man. He swept into Richards, knocking the man over, and raised a hatchet. Daniels drew a bead on him and blasted him aside, helping Richards up. A pipe bomb flipped over the crowd's heads, landing in front of the barricade. Sable leaned over the barrier and flicked the bomb back into the crowd. The nearest people screamed and backed away, blocked by the crowds. A fine mist of red blood flashed into the air, along with shattered bones.

Rachel was down with Lorien, trying to stop the bleeding. She took two syringes out of her tac vest and stabbed them into the trooper's thigh. She scrawled P and Z onto Lorien's helmet with a marker and replaced it onto her head.

Sable dove into the cover near the women, placing a hand on Lorien's shoulder, looking into her visor before nodding to Rachel. The specialist lowered her stare, nodding slowly. Rachel grabbed the sniper and fired into the mass of people, swearing fluently over the vox.

A cry of terror went up, and a woman broke ranks, running into the city. That was all it took. First two, then a dozen, then a score of people routed, fleeing into the city. Sable broke cover, followed by Gray and Richards. Daniels swept the wreckage for surviving rioters, while Rachel supported Lorien as the squad walked across the square. Rostock helped Flint up and led him into the wreck. Four soldiers sat exhausted in the broken cover. Two more were laying behind them, bullet and knife wounds marking their bodies.

"Thank the Emperor." said the leading trooper. The patch on his chest read SKORAL, presumably in case he forgot his name. His shoulder patches indicated he was with the 271st Drop Jet. 

"How's it going then, Lieutenant?" asked Sable. The man deflated.

"We lost two in the landing, sir. The other two died when a mob of rioters broke the line. Thank you for the assist, sir. Thought we were goners."

"You were, LT. You're welcome. You have a medic with you?"

"Yeah. Jenks! Get up here!" he yelled. A very young orderly with a medicae cross painted on his helmet ran up to Lorien, taking a quick glance at her helmet before removing her stomach plate and taking a pair of pliers from his bag. Rachel removed her helmet, revealing red-rimmed blue eyes. She ground her teeth as the medic pulled a light round out of the ragged hole in her abdomen.

"What's PZ mean?" said Flint, looking at her helmet.

"P for painkiller. Z for blood-loss control. B looks too much like P in a hurry." explained Rachel. She patted Lorien's shoulder.

"I..uh..heard you two were...y'know." Flint stuttered.

"Ha! I'll bet Richards told you, didn't he?" asked Rachel.

"Uh. Yeah."

"He's a frakking idiot, Fish. He exaggerates things. There's two beds in our room." she said, and got up. Flint looked at Lorien, but the spotter just breathed in, and winked at him. He opened his mouth to rebuke, but Lorien closed her eyes, and the medic glared at him. Flint stood up, walking to where Sable had a holochart out. A map of Donovan flashed into existance. A red contact icon marked the main battle to the west, at the steps of the governmental palace. Lorien got up slowly, clutching the bandage over her midriff.

"What's next, Cappie?" asked Rostock.

"The palace. We're going all in." said Sable.


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## vacantghost (Feb 16, 2008)

damn, this is excellent stuff, if only i can write like you haha xD more!


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## Initiate (Mar 25, 2007)

Great stuff again Dirge! Can't wait for the next installments!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks all. I really enjoy the feedback!
-------------------------------------------------

ARRIVAL

Eich set VA-0227 down lightly on the rockrete beside Two-Nine's wreckage. Sable and Zulu ran aboard, Sokal's group following. The Valkyrie bore a few fresh burns and pings along it's flanks.

"Run into any trouble?" asked Gray conversationally. Jenks helped Lorien up the ramp, supporting the wounded spotter.

"Get her up to the troopship, OK Eich?" said Rachel, helping her spotter into a bucket seat near the door.

"Can do." said Eich over the comms.

"No. It's Can-DY." chuckled Rostock. Rachel planted a boot onto his chest, pinning him to the dropship wall. Her sidearm came up, aiming at his face. Gray stepped between the two.

"God damn it all, Rostock! Shut up!" yelled Rachel. The hellpistol wavered.

"Cool it! Stand down, everybody!" yelled Gray. She shoved the barrel of the hellpistol down. Rachel snarled incoherently in response. The pistol came back up again. 

"CHECK!" roared Sable. Everyone in the bay stopped dead. Eleven pairs of eyes turned to look at the captain.

"Everyone STAND DOWN." he snarled. Rachel lowered the weapon, and released Rostock. Gray's arms fell to her sides.

"We're just all wound up. Eich. Get us up now." 

The Valkyrie bounded upward like it had been let off a chain, flying high over Donovan. Lorien gasped suddenly and clutched her chest. Jenks put a hand on her chest, then the side of his head. 

"Oh, frak! Frak! She's thrown a clot! We gotta get her a chirurgeon NOW!" yelled the medic. 

"Eich! We're taking this party upstairs!" yelled Sable. The Valkyrie's nose shot upwards, and they screamed into the atmosphere. The ship bounced heavily, cruising into the troopship's hanger. The drop ramp slammed down, and Jenks ran the wounded trooper off the ship onto a portable autosurgeon. The table began to remove her chest armor as the medicaes wheeled her away. Sokal's squad stood up and followed.

"Everybody all right?" asked Eich.

"I don't know. Take us back down." said Sable.

VA-0227 lurched back upwards, scattering the fitters approaching it with a fuel hose and ammo packs.

The ship accelerated down, pulling to a dead stop over the roof of the Palace. Over a thousand rioters were mobbing the door, attacking it with homemade rams and pillars from the gardens. Thirty-one squads of the 409th were already deployed in the Palace, defending the Governer and his entourage from the rabid rioters.

"Welcome to paradise, drop jumpers."

The ship's ramp barely kissed the roof before Zulu had piled out, weapons ready.

"Zulu, we're running bingo fuel, repeat no fuel, we gotta get back up and rearm before we can come back. Minimum three hours."

"Copy Angel. Get clear."

Sable turned to the squad.

"Let's make it happen, Zulu."


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## Dessel_Ordo (Jul 28, 2008)

excellent work man, cant wait for the next part!!


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Brilliant work Dirge


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

Hey I was right again:biggrin: it is a great storyk:

Sniper


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

ALL IN

The palace was in anarchy. Stormtroopers hurried from room to room, barricading the vast house against the rioters. Rocks, bottles, tools, and tiles were tossed through windows.

Sable and Zulu Squad stormed down the stairs to the main hall, meeting a Drop Trooper wearing a uniform cap instead of the full-faced helmet favored by the 409th. The man had a golden leaf pinned to his lapel.

"Major Vickers." said Sable, throwing a crisp salute. Zulu followed, except Daniels, who simply raised a hand. Vickers nodded and turned back to a map, inviting Sable to join him at the table.

"Alright, Damien. It's good to have you here. I want your squad at the south entrance, they'll try to force the doors. Deny access at all costs. Dismissed, Squad Leader."

"Sir, yes sir!" said Sable. He flicked a hand sign to Zulu, who stomped down another flight of steps to the hallway running north to south along the entire mansion. A barricade of wooden slats, concrete barriers, prefab cover, and furniture was assembled at the doors. Troopers stood on makeshift firing steps.

Flint hoisted himself onto the step, looking at the nearly fifty foot open space between the barricade and the doors. He swapped through the squad's audio frequencies, hearing Richards and Daniels swapping jokes, then Gray consoling Sable about Lorien's wounding. He got to the last channel, a network called "RJ409FLIP".

A blast of thumping music deafened him instantly. He shut the channel off, heart racing at the sudden noise, and looked over the users of the list.

"What is that?" he asked Rachel, standing next to him.

"Flip music. Old school stuff. The ancients on Terra listened to something similar."

"Really?"

"Don't ask me, Fish. I'm not a historium. I just like the bass."

She flicked the music back on, drowning out Flint's reply. A massive crash echoed through the hall. The doors shuddered. Every trooper stepped onto the firing line, weapons ready.

"They've cut the lock!" yelled an engineer, looking over a data slate.

A thin line of daylight sliced through the door, as the thick slabs of metal parted.

"Here they come!" snarled Gray, her weapon coming up. A man ran through the gap, catching over sixty hellrounds through his chest and stomach. He exploded, throwing gore over the ground.

"Sloppy! Pick your targets!" yelled Sable, as the doors were sucked into the walls, letting a flood of people through. Soldiers fired, scything down the front ranks. A motley assortment of firearms were shot back in return. The man next to Flint, a soldier named Frasic, was shot through his visor and fell in a heap. Richards hefted the rocket launcher, blasting a hole in the horde.

"Kill them all!" howled a woman. She vaulted over the barricade, covered in blood. Flint brought up the hellgun, but she batted it away, pinning the young trooper to the ground with her weight. Flint yanked the knife from his boot, stabbing it to the hilt in her neck. She gurgled horribly, blood pouring from her mouth, and rolled off the trooper. Rostock helped him up, firing one-handed into the mass of people.

"Drive them back!" yelled Sable. He stood on the lip of the barricade, like one of the heroes legends are made of, shooting his sidearm. A power sword was extracted from the sheath at his waist, and the captain was using it to great effect, slicing through three rioters at a time.

"For the 409th! First in!" yelled a soldier down the line. The entire block of soldiers echoed the rest of the verse.

"LAST OUT!"

Rachel slid a combat knife through the fabric of a howling juvie's coat, spattering blood over the red mist of paint. A horrible shriek echoed through the air as two Valkyries bearing the crest of the 409th Support flashed by, dropping two dozen munitions into the crowd. 

"No wonder everyone loves pilots." said Flint to himself.

"Repeat that, Fish. Didn't copy." replied Rostock.

"Uh, negative, Sarge. Feedback on the mics."

"Copy that."

A dozen shots from a burly man with a stubber in both hands threw Rachel and Flint into the base of the trench. He stood up, helping her to her feet.

"You OK?" he said. She formed an O with her thumb and forefinger, then stepped back onto the line.

A stick with a mine duct-taped to the end flipped end over end into the barricade.

"STIKKBOMB!" screamed Rachel, throwing herself flat. Flint dove to the side just as the bomb detonated, throwing troopers off their feet. The pair got to their feet again.

"They're fallin' back!" yelled a sergeant next to Rachel. He stood up, cheering, and a last shot from the rioters caught him in the shoulder. A medic stooped to help the man.

Sable stepped down from the barricade, moving around soldiers until he met Zulu at the base of the stairs. Daniels had a bandage around his arm, red-tinged where a bullet had winged him.

"They're not falling back. We need to talk to Vickers. It's time to blow and go."

Gray nodded. "Yessir. Is the governer still dirtside?"

"Nope. Airlifted him out yesterday. Vickers is the only one with the denial dets though. We have to get back to him."

A shout rose from the barricade as Zulu walked up the stairs. The vox-net suddenly blared with shouting.

"Breaking through-"

"-secter two-alpha"

"casualties at ninety-seven"

"Fall back!"

"-Overrun! Repeat, overrun!"

Richards opened the door leading to the great hall, and a screaming man threw himself into the trooper, an axe held high.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

The tension, oh the tension! Someone, please think of the children!

Brilliant dirge, frickin loving it.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

LAST RESORT

The man slammed the axe into Richard's chestplate, impacting the rocket launcher strapped to his webbing. The trooper was thrown backwards, toppling Rostock and Daniels in the process. Gray lunged as the man drew a power knife from his coat. The serrated, matte black sliver of a combat knife flew from her hand, flipping end over end before embedding itself into the eye socket of the assailant.

"You've got to show me that trick sometime." said Rachel, pulling the knife from the body. Gray accepted the weapon.

"Sorry, oldies only. I showed Sable." she said. Rachel smiled beneath her rebreather.

Flint moved into the map room, shining a tactical lamp over the devastation. Rioters were piled two deep across the room, mangled Drop Troopers thrown around. Major Vickers lay against the map table, a bolt pistol in his hand. Blood was pooling on his chest as he coughed it up in great spurts. Sable let out a strangled yelp and dropped to one knee, propping up the wounded man.

"Vickers. Can you hear me? Adam! Adam, can you talk?!"

"Damnation, Damien. Of course I can talk... It's my stomach." said Vickers. He reached into his shirt pocket, taking a scrap of paper from it.

"The failsafe codes. It's a remote det, use the Valkyrie's transponder. You have to get out of here."

Sable tore off his helmet.

"No, you're coming with us. Come on."

He began to pull the major up.

"Boy! Put me down, you and I both know I'm not going to toast this one in the mess. Go on, Damien."

The major dropped limp.

"Oh, Captain." said Gray, placing a hand on Sable's shoulder. The captain stood, a fire burning in his eyes, the failsafes clutched in his fist.

"We're going to kill them all." he said.

Zulu moved out, into the gardens. A wave of Valkyrie landers took off as they approached, bearing the second to last group of soldiers to safety.

"You got personal transport? I'm going to run short on ships." said the loadmaster, gesturing at the troops around him.

Daniels placed a hand to his helmet. "Two-Seven, this is Zulu. You copy?"

"Read you, Zulu. Currently at twenty-six triple zero feet, fueled and armed. Need a lift?"

"It'd be nice, Two-Seven."

"Alrighty then, Zulu. Two-Seven out."

Daniels nodded at Sable. The captain turned to the loadmaster.

"We're good."

A shudder ran through the ground, and a three-story house next to the palace collapsed.

"Looks like the riots are getting a little out of control." said Rostock calmly.

"Yeah. And it'll get worse. Dig in, Zulu. We'll hold them. Last out."


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Awesome Dirge. I'm so tempted to start a 40k Fiction about IG storm-troopers now.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

I'm trying to compile all the heresies in this so far...I lost count after Guardian Angel lolz. Glad to see you like it. This was originally supposed to be a Space Marine story, but I liked the idea of a mixed-sex Guard regiment instead. It added a bit of humor to it. Didja get to knife one, Candy?

-Dirge


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Lol yea. Might as well start mine then.


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## thomas2 (Nov 4, 2007)

Just like to say I'm following this.

Dirge, your stories are excellent and you remain my favourite story writer on heresy.


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## Iron Corsair (Nov 5, 2008)

Wow, this is one AMAZING story, Dirge! I like it a lot. Excellent job! :biggrin:


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

WORDS AND DEEDS

_Three Hours Later_

"Zulu this is Valkyrie Two-Seven, entering your airspace now. Extraction in five minutes. Copy?"

"Angel this is Zulu. We read you. Out."

Sable turned to Zulu squad, battered and bloodied by the fighting. Richards had a nasty cut on his upper arm, while Daniels and Rostock sported minor bullet wounds. Gray had a deep stab wound in her thigh, making it hard for her to walk. Flint was the only one unhurt besides Sable, although his face was filthy and his helmet was gone, broken by a stray lasbolt.

A roar built up outside the shattered doors. Rachel propped her weapon on the dead loadmaster's corpse. 

"They're back." she said. Zulu swept weapons over the barricade surrounding their landing zone.

A flood of people, mostly young men, screamed across the courtyard, weapons raised. A few former PDF soldiers ran with them, carrying lasguns and plasma weapons.

"Range! Fire at will!" yelled Rostock. Six Hellguns and a Sniper opened fire, slashing bloody swathes through the mob. People tripped over bodies, cracking skulls on the tile floor of the courtyard. A flamer was hit in the tanks, immolating a knot of rioters instantly.

The front line of people fired experimentally, taking chunks out of the cover Zulu huddled behind. Lasbolts and bullets began to chew through the wood and concrete.

A massive man in black carapace armor stomped through the morass, a bolt pistol in his hand. 

"Kill them all!" he howled. "For Donovan!"

The crowd roared approval. Richards hoisted a pintle heavy bolter over the barricade, thoughtfully left by Valkyrie Two-Four as it left. The heavy weapon chewed a line of gore through the people, shredding the black armored man. A shout of despair went up as the man's body hit the concrete. The crowd began to flee. Richards held the triggers down, scything through them until only three people remained to rush him. A hatchet smashed into the trooper's chest and he toppled over, blood welling in the gap. Gray hoisted her weapon, blowing the first man to bloody rags. Flint pulled his combat knife, stabbing the second through his neck. The third man, a laspistol in his grip, batted Flint aside, and crashed into Sable. The captain flipped the rioter over, sitting on top of him.

"Hope Hell treats you nice." he snarled, shooting a hole through the man's throat.

"You...too." he gurgled. Sable looked down, and the dying man pulled the trigger of the laspistol.

"NO!" howled Daniels. He unleashed a flurry of shots into the rioter, pulping his chest and head in an instant. Sable fell backwards, clutching the gaping wound in his chest. The bolt, at such close range, had shredded his organs. Gray knelt by Sable's side, hand on his chest. 

"Captain...Sable, stay with me! Angel's coming, we're going to get you out of here!" 

Sable pulled his helmet off weakly, smiling at Gray.

"Erica. Let it go. You and I both know it's not going to happen."

"You can survive this, Damien! Remember on Axion, when you got stabbed? Or on Desolatia, the fleshborers? What about Cadia, when you took two bolter rounds? Two! You can't let this beat you!"

Sable gasped for air weakly. He gripped Gray's hand, looking into her visor.

"Consider it official." he said, pulling the captain's pips from his collar. He handed the small pin to Gray. Flint knelt next to her, looking from the pips to Sable.

"Flint...you did good." said Sable. Flint started. 

"You..you didn't call me Fish."

The man nodded. "I think you've earned that, at least."

Daniels pulled a stimpack from his belt, helping Richards up. "You're gonna be fine, Captain. Promise."

Sable's eyes flicked away, focusing on a point just behind Flint and Gray. His hands tightened on Gray's.

"I'm fine." he said. His grip went slack, and Damien Sable died.

A low howl filled the air as VA-0227 settled on the ground. Thatcher ran out, a laspistol in his hand.

"Come on! We gotta go! Navy's starting the bombardment in fifteen minutes!"

Rostock knelt by Sable's body, picking up the dead man. Flint cocked his head.

"We're not leaving him here." explained the sergeant. Gray nodded, and they boarded the Valkyrie. Daniels helped Richards aboard, and Rachel placed a hand on Flint's shoulder as she climbed into the bay. He could see she was desperately trying to remain unmoved. Thatcher ran by again, the drop door closing, and Eich shifted the Valkyrie around, gaining lift as they sped back to the _Imperical_


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

More brilliant work Dirge, such a brilliant tale.


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Dirge... You are one hell of a writer...:victory:


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## Iron Corsair (Nov 5, 2008)

Excellent as always, Dirge! Keep it up!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks guys!

---------------------------

DEBRIEF

Low rumbles and thuds could be heard through the _Imperical_'s hull as the ship pummeled Donovan's outer districts, softening them up for the Guard's assault.

Flint sat in the atrium, spinning a hellpistol on the floor. Richards was next to him on a crate. Gray and Rachel sat against a wall, talking lowly. Daniels smoked a cigarette. Lorien was leaning against the wall near the door, a bandage over her midsection.

Rostock opened Sable's door, carefully setting a duffel bag marked D.SABLE on the floor. He reached up and pulled the name card from the doorframe. He put the card into the bag. The medics had taken Sable's body for cremation, after Gray and Daniels had stripped his armor and equipment. His red-streaked helmet surveyed them from the top of a ration crate.

A shout came down the hall, and six Kasrkin stormed into the room, pointing weapons and shouting. The one with the most amount of gold on his armor placed a hand to his helmet.

"Clear." he said. A black-coated Commissar entered the room.

"Up against the wall. All of you." he said, drawing a bolt pistol. Zulu complied, facing the Commissar. 

"Under the codes Commissariat, and due to the events that have now come to light, you are all convicted of crimes unbefitting of the Imperial Guard. Sergeant, the charges."

The Kasrkin sergeant pulled a data slate from his pack.

"Captain D. Sable, convicted of grand heresy, insubordination, and murder of the first degree. Lieutenant E. Gray, convicted of accessory to commit murder, and conspiracy. Sergeant Major R. Daniels, convicted of heresy, modification of weapons, and insubordination. Sergeant H. Rostock, convicted of heresy, accessory to commit murder, and failure to file requisitorial orders. Corporal S. Lorien, convicted of procreative grand heresy. Specialist R. Jackson, convicted of procreative grand heresy. Private First Class L. Richards, convicted of possession of illicit images, narcotic abuse, and use of coarse language in an officer's presence. Private D. Flint, convicted of accessory to commit heresy, modification of weapons, and failure to salute superiors."

The man coughed quietly, and put the slate away.

"Under the Codes, I hereby sentence Damien Sable, Erica Gray, Robert Daniels, Sarah Lorien, and Rachel Jackson to death. Holden Rostock, Leonard Richards, and David Flint are sentence to serve in a Penal Legion."

He raised the bolt pistol, aiming at Gray's head. Flint closed his eyes.

A _crack_ echoed through the confined space. He opened his eyes to see a massively armored warrior carrying a bolter step into the atrium, the Commissar's eyes opened wide as he looked at what remained of his arm. The entirety of it was torn to bloody rags from the elbow, the bolt pistol lay shattered on the floor.

"That's enough, Hrald." said a voice, and a heavyset man with a roll of parchment entered, followed by a tall, lean man in black robes. A golden "I" hung on a chain around his neck, and he had a hand on the pommel of an engraved power sword.

"And that's enough of that." said the Inquisitor to the Commissar. The man nodded, his face white from the blood loss. The Kasrkin filed out, helping their wounded leader.

"Hrald, guard the door. Make sure he leaves." he added. The Space Marine nodded and stomped out.

Gray stepped forward, cautiously offering her hand.

"What? Do you think I'm here to execute you as well?" asked the inquisitor, shaking her hand with enthusiasm.

"Well, sir, I'm not sure anymore." she said.

"I am Inquisitor Lord Pontius Estelle, and this is Scribener Gregor Harks. I am here to debrief you."

The squad fell from the wall, settling onto crates or against objects.

"We are pleased with the work the 409th had performed planetside. Donovan's utilities are in full collapse, and the rebels' leader has offered to parlay with the Imperial command."

Daniels raised his hand, like a juvie in the schola. "Sir, I'm still wondering why we're not dead."

"Ah, well, sergeant, that was my choice. The Imperium needs it's soldiers, and your regiment certainly does. Damien Sable saved my life on Mersa, and it's only fair I do so now. I am granting a full Inquisitorial Pardon to the men and women of the 409th Drop Jet. Until further notice, you will no longer be Inspected, filed for Munitorum requisitons, and I will also assign VA-0227 to your squad personally. You are now Kill Team Zulu, B Company 409th Drop."

Gray looked shocked. "Thank you, sir."

"Not a problem, Captain Gray."

"Captain, sir?"

"You're wearing the pips, captain."

"Thank you, sir."

Estelle stood up, and Zulu stood attention as one.

"And I have some advice for you all." he said.

He moved to Daniels. "Try to cut down on the modded weapons."

Then to Rostock, "File for the things you take."

And to Rachel and Lorien, he smiled. "A little more subtle, please. The walls of this ship are like cardboard."

Richards licked his lips as Estelle moved to him. The Inquisitor yanked the cigarette from his mouth. "Stop smoking."

Flint looked at the floor. Estelle looked at him. "Follow Rule 1. You're no good to us dead."

And with that, Inquisitor Lord Pontius Estelle swept off the atrium's deck, walking back down the hall to the elevator. Harks gave the team a polite nod, then followed.

Gray turned around to address Kill Team Zulu, Sable's red-slashed helmet under her arm.

"Alright, then. Let's get to it, team."


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## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Dirge!... Another great work!... The part about Rachel and Lorien was just LOL!... Couldn't stop laughing....:victory:


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## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Awesome dirge. Next please!


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## Iron Corsair (Nov 5, 2008)

Awesome as always, Dirge! Keep it up!


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## crabpuff (Aug 5, 2008)

Gimme more!!!!


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Sorry, man. This is the last chapter! I'm working on a new story called _Steel Talons_, check it out, should be up by noon. We had to get up so F***ing early today....*yawn*
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EPILOGUE

The battle for Donovan concluded six weeks to the day that Zulu Squad was charged, convicted, and then released aboard the _Imperical_. Seven weeks afterword, the troopship participated in the crushing of a rebellion in the Kast system. The 409th continued to display levels of courage and honor above and beyond the Imperial Guard's norm, eventually being wiped out in a six-day battle on Nordacrux. There are whispers, however, that over ninety percent of the 409th regiment deployed on Nordacrux were fresh recruits, and that the majority of the Drop Jumpers were reassigned as the 818th Shock Jump regiment, under the jurisdiction of Lord Inquisitor Pontius Estelle. 

Kill Team Zulu was rotated into the 818th after Nordacrux, there is no doubt, and fought in over twenty actions after Donovan. They never took casualties.

Due to the many "suicide" missions undertaken by Zulu, and the many errors showing them completely KIA, the records show that even after five hundred years, the status of Zulu Squad, B Company 409th Drop remains on active duty.

-Scribener Samael Jouran, 499.M42

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Thanks to all that posted feedback, and be sure to check out _Steel Talons_!

-Dirge


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## Gambit14 (Aug 30, 2008)

simply epic


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## crabpuff (Aug 5, 2008)

Ok so who was the "man" in the Rachel and Lorien relationship.


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

That's for you to decide. I didn't want to get too graphic :victory:

-Dirge


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

An absoulute awesome read. Well done.


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