# Battle for Taruk IV - Part 1



## omera (Jan 30, 2009)

Also check http://omera51.deviantart.com for more stuff. I just recently decided to improve my writing. This is the best I've written.

The Battle For Taruk VI
The sound of tortured metal screeching as it broke off from the engine's 3rd and 4th thruster could be heard in the interior of the lander. Guardsmen tensed up as they became aware of the damage done to the thrusters by something on the outside, possibly a missile. In the cockpit, the pilot struggled to control the rapidly descending aircraft.
'What hit us?' asked the pilot. 'Are we being intercepted?'
The desert landscape began to become clearer as clouds became less dense. The ground was made up of many dunes rather than a flat landscape. It would be difficult to set up a base of operations here. Luckily, the interior of the lander could easily substitute as a base. There were quarters, medical units, and other beneficial rooms on the lander.
The servitor plugged into the ship's machinery twitched as it processed the information gathered from advanced pict-recorders that dotted the surface of the ship for the pilot. The servitor was a disturbing sight, but a necessary entity on board the ship. It was legless, with arms spread out against the wall. The thing's abdomen ended at a round, metal plate on the floor, holding the servitor in place. Cables along its arms and the back of its bald head hissed as steam rose from the small openings at the end of each plug.
'Anti aircraft turrets from the surface destroyed thrusters three and four.' it said, its mechanical voice making the pilot cringe. 'Unable to keep ship flying for long. Approximately thirty seconds until impact.' it continued, giving the pilot the timed landing notification.
'Damnit!' cursed the pilot.
He would need to find a proper place to land. A small imbalance in the way the ship was tilted would mean the difference between using the ship as a base of operations, and dragging all of the equipment out into the scorching desert to be put in tents because the rooms would be tilted upward with the rest of the ship.
'10 seconds until impact.' droned the servitor.
The pilot tensed.
'5.'
'4.'
'3.'
The pilot pulled a lever on the mess of buttons and steering devices that only a trained pilot would be able to comprehend. The ship tilted slightly upward. The ship's belly flayed the peaks of the dunes it touched as it came into contact with the ground. Dust clouds rose and the pilot couldn't see anything. The ship came to a complete stop and the Guardsmen strapped in their seats could be heard cheering on the other side of the door of the cockpit. The Zithon 203rd didn't die, and from the tension caused by the lander's rapid descension from the atmosphere, that was enough to make their day.
Judging by how gravity felt when the pilot unclipped his seat belt and stood carefully, he had landed perfectly horizontal with the ground. The pilot stretched and sighed with relief. Now it was time to leave the cockpit and meet fellow Guardsmen on the ship, as well as prepare for whatever the Colonel had in store for them.
Colonel Avonius unclipped his seat belt. The officers had a different set of seats than the troops so the troops could easily find their assigned squad officers amongst the 'officer only' seats. The officers started assigning men to their squads, and the massive room became loud with shouts as they rallied their men. The Colonel nodded to each of the officers he passed. Things were in order so far... Except that the pilot had not been thanked.
The pilot strode out of the door leading to the cockpit. The Colonel was standing right in front of him.
'Colonel! Where am I to be-' said the pilot before he was interrupted by the Colonel.
'Whats your name pilot?'
The pilot hesitated. Was he in trouble? Did something go wrong during the landing?
'Uhh. Andrew, sir. Andrew Janus.'
'Well Andrew, you're a damn good pilot. Once we've got the base in order, you and me are going to the bar. Drinks are on me.'
Andrew nodded.
'Its an honor s-'
'Don't give me that "its an honor" grox-shyte! You just saved these men from death, pilot. You deserve a bit of a reward for that.' interrupted Avonius.
'Anyway, I know you're good for something other than piloting. What do you do
do?' asked Avonius.
'Just a standard shock trooper, sir.' replied Andrew.
'Than you'll be assigned to my squad. The name's Avonius by the way.' said the Colonel.
'I've got to organize these men. For now just stick around me until everything is in order.' he continued.
Andrew nodded simply.

Sergeant Vlitz and his scouts were already a mile and a half away from the lander-base. Their mission was to head in the direction of the enemy's camp and see what they're up to. It was a dangerous but necessary mission, and Vlitz and his squad of 8 might never come back. The scouts were covered in sand, making them blend in with their surroundings. The squad made their way up a particularly steep dune, and crouched at its peak. Vlitz made a hand motion to indicate the men to aim their rifles over the peak. As the men looked into the desert, they could see the silhouettes of men in the distance, undoubtedly the heretics who tried to claim this world. In their scopes, the enemy's appearance became clear. They were red armored warriors covered in blood that was smeared all over their skin. They wore skull masks with symbols carved into them, and inked with more blood. One of the symbols was the eight-pointed star that was all too heretical to tolerate for Vlitz.
A man of faith, Vlitz had originally been a preacher of the Adeptus Ministorum. He worked in a cathedral in the hive of Zithon-Omega. When his younger brother, Ariman was drafted into the Guard, Vlitz immediately volunteered. He wanted to fight alongside Ariman. Both were placed in the same scout squad. It was years ago that Ariman died, but the horrible experience seemed like yesterday. Perhaps the God-Emperor was trying to strengthen him, he thought. For a moment, he relived that experience.

They were on the world of Quintorion in subsector Perronus-Omega. There they combated an ork tribe known as the Crazy Dakka Boyz. It wasn't Vlitz who was the officer of the squad, but a man by the name of Caltos. They were sent to kill a nob that was a valuable asset to the tribe.
The sound of distant airborne explosions could be heard in intervals of 5 or 6 seconds as both sides bombed each other and hurled artillery. The city was in utter ruins, reduced to rubble within a week by orbital bombardments by the Zithon fleet.
'The nob is close. Ready your rifles.' said Caltos.
The jamming of fresh clips into the barrels of the scouts' guns sounded. Vlitz could hear the the deep bellowing of an ork giving commands to his underlings. Judging by how massive it seemed because of its voice alone, Vlitz guessed it was the nob he was sent to kill, and his muscles tensed. Caltos strode through the alley and into the ruins of a building and took cover at a window. The rest of the squad did the same. Vlitz took the window beside Ariman. He poked his head out the window for just a second. That second was enough to make him tense even more as his heart beat faster and faster preparing for the moment to come.
'Open fire on the big one as soon as I throw a frag.' said Caltos, reaching into for a grenade at his belt. He pulled the ring from the grenade and tossed it out of the window at the nob's feet.
The scouts immediately opened fire, a volley of las-fire striking the ork nob. The ork howled as the grenade at his feet detonated and took off his foot. He fell, and fired a few rounds at the scouts before lasfire finally burned the life out of him.
One of those rounds struck Ariman. Still focusing fire on the nob to make sure it was dead, Brains, blood and skull fragments splattered on Vlitz. He looked to his right to see the lifeless body of his brother pumping blood out of the stump of his head.
'No! Ariman! Damnit!' he yelled.
Vlitz rushed over to his brother and burst into tears. The scout beside him rushed over and pulled him away from Ariman's body.
'We need to get out of here before more of them come!' the scout exclaimed. He fought against the grip of the scout, but the scout's strength finally won over his own. Vlitz managed to snatch the dog tag from Ariman's neck before he was pulled away from his brother for good.

Vlitz sighed at the memory. Despite the horror that shook him to the soul that day, he had grown stronger because of it. It was time to focus on the task at hand now. Vlitz aimed the crosshair over the forehead of one of the blood-smeared savages. He pulled the trigger, and the head blew apart like a melon against a hammer, the hammer of the Emperor's wrath, he thought. The savages could barely react before the rest of the scouts shot them dead.


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## Lord Ramo (Apr 12, 2009)

A great read with lots of drama. Keep it up!!


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