# Those Left Behind



## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

_An hour. He would have expected them to come within an hour. Yes, his request for an arial bombardment had been met with silence, but he'd assumed they'd heard him and would come to their aid. Of course they would. They were family, after all. 

Weren't they?

Two hours since his call had gone unanswered, he was beginning to doubt that before unshakable truth. Looking into his battle brother's eyes, he could see those same doubts reflected back at him. He shifted uncomfortably and stood on someone's foot, muttering an apology.

He could hear the enemy scratching at the doors, trying to break them down. The same enemy that had outnumbered them, butchered them and finally forced to hide like rats in this bunker. His blood seethed as he thought of it; this was NOT the Salamander's way! But they had no choice. A few meters away, a neophyte's nerve finally broke and he began to shout. To scream uncontrollably. "Get me out of here! I'd rather get killed by... Them! I don't want to stay another second in this horrible coffin!"

As older, more experianced Marines calmed the hysterical boy with soft words, he could hear the lad's screams morph into broken sobs and finally whimpers. It occured to him that every one of his brothers here would dearly like to scream.

As if sensing the neophyte's panic, the xeno's efforts to break down the door tripled. Finally beaten, it caved in with a crash.

Packed in like sardines, none of them stood a chance. The floor was soon awash with Astartes blood and , though xenos corpses littered the floor, one by one the Salamanders were falling. He managed to kill a few foes before they rushed him, jaws filled with razor fangs cracking even his ceramite armour.

They were all over him, ripping him to shreds with claws and teeth. Eating him alive.

He tipped his head back and gave one last scream of rage, his mind focussed one thing- the brothers who had left them all to die. Who had ignored their pleas for assistance. With his dying breath, he swore he'd make them sorry. One way or another...(/I)

The Dark Angels' bikes roared across the dull umber plain, kicking up clouds of dust that threatened to choke those battle-brothers striding in their wake. Helmets and breathing equipment flitered out the cloying particles, but those without headgear- either lost or deliberately left unworn- found their eyes itching and their mouths filling with a layer of claylike scum. Dark armour was slowly turning red, their bolter's machine-spirits starting to complain as vents became clogged. But none spoke of the hardships, just of how they might do their duty to the Emperor.

It was their third week under the scorching sun, marching over the dusty plains of D'yoon's largest moon. It was a rocky little place in the middle of nowhere, full of caves and sand-dwelling worms. Next to nobody lived here; there was no water fit for human drinking. If it wasn't for the valuable spice that grew on the moon, and only on the moon, then nobody would have heard of D'yoon. But as such, it was a very important place.

As the bikes swept over a dusty hillock, the riders caught sight of a group of figures issuing from a hole in the ground. Recognising the colours on their armour, the Dark Angels rode closer and stopped just a few meters away from the ragged and bloodstained figures. Nobody payed him the slightest bit of attention; the Salamander's Captain didn't even turn to face him. Annoyed, the lead Dark Angel cleared his throat meaningfully. Still nothing.

"Salamander! Why are you refusing to acknowledge me?"

The Salamander captain a deep, rumblimg chuckle; the obvious mocking tone make all the Dark Angels bristle. How dare he! Before they could rebuke him, though, the Captain spoke. "It isn't nice, is it?" he asked lightly, turning slowly on his heel. "Being ignored."

The Dark Angels raised their bolters automatically; the Salamander's face was only half there, the rest a mass if blood and broken bones. One of his arms had been chewed off at the elbow, and there was a dark hole gaping in his chest. The rest of the Salamanders walked- or shuffled or dragged themselves- closer, revealing their fatal injuries. The Captain surveyed them with a humourless smile, his one eye full grief and rage.

"You did this to us, you know." he stated conversationally, as if discussing the weather; behind him, a young Marine with no legs wept helplessly.

For a second, the Son of the Lion could only splutter in disbelief. "No, we didn't! It was the xenos!"

"But you abandoned us, you ignored our cries for help!" stated the Salamander, his eyes sparking with sudden rage. "You killed us, as surely as you had if you'd put a bolter to each of our heads and pulled the trigger! But you were too cowardly to even do that... Sons of the Lion, indeed!'

He took a step forwards, the Dark Angels keeping him in their sights as more undead Salamanders raised their voices in support of their leader.

"You left us to die!'

"We can't rest because if you!'

"Traitors!"

"I was only twenty-five!'

"You deserve death!"

"Yeah! Let's kill the stinking cowards!'

The Dark Angels fired desperately into the approaching crowd, but it was useless; they didn't seem to feel pain, and every injury just angered them more. Soon they were surronded by the walking corpses of their cousins, every voice baying for their blood. Every voice except one.

"Don't kill them, brothers."

The lead Dark Angel turned to the Salamander Captain in relief, but saw only contempt and anger in his eye. "We are not traitors- we do not kill our loyal brothers, no matter how they have failed us. It is not our way." He raised his voice above the groans if dissapointment that issued from his men. "Besides, they need to be alive to learn and spread our lesson- never ignore a plea for help. Never let anyone, civilian or Astartes, die wjen they could have been saved! And never leave anyone behind!"

His words brought a cheer of assent from the undead Marines, who cleared a path for the Dark Angels to exit through. Shredded faces watched them with anger, tattered hands keft smears of blood on their dusty bikes.

"Now get out of my sight, Dark Angels, before I change my mind and let my men gave their revenge!'

So, like the cowards they were accused if being, the Dark Angels fled and the Salamanders watched them go. Eventually, the still loyal undead trailed off into the dull umber distance, to what fate they couldn't begin to guess._


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*Hi*

Wow, what a story! Fantastic, I think would be a good word for it. There were some misspelled words, and small grammar issues, but over all good one. :victory:

I do not care for the conversation below the story though. I don't even know the point of it. :shok:


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

Thank you! 

The grammar and spelling issues are mostly down to my typing on a smartphone's very small keyboard. This thing doesn't spellcheck and editing your text is Hell... Or maybe I should stop churning out fanfics when I should be in bed! 

And conversation? What do you mean? *puzzled face*


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## Todeswind (Mar 2, 2010)

Black Steel Feathers said:


> Thank you!
> 
> The grammar and spelling issues are mostly down to my typing on a smartphone's very small keyboard. This thing doesn't spellcheck and editing your text is Hell... Or maybe I should stop churning out fanfics when I should be in bed!
> 
> And conversation? What do you mean? *puzzled face*


Unless I miss my guess he's talking about the quote in your signature.


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

Todeswind said:


> Unless I miss my guess he's talking about the quote in your signature.


Haha, possibly... It's just a quote I found funny from my We Call It 'Bromance' thread.


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

It's just my signature! I only thought it was funny! * insert pleading/hurt look here*

Wow. I just wanted advice to improve my storytelling, not aspersions cast on my sense of humour.

(I am I overreacting? Probably. But I don't say I don't care for your username or sig...

Which I don't.)


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

i must admit i like the general idea but i cannot agree with the Dark Angels leaving a loyalist leigon UNLESS there was a Fallen Angel in the vacinity however that being said it was a god story


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## Black Steel Feathers (Aug 17, 2011)

That's basically what happened- the arial (can't spell for toffee) support b*ggered off to find the Fallen, and the DAs are kinda famous for not working well with others. I've definately read in WD about them ignoring others and their attempts to communicate... Dunno how accurate that fluff was, though. *shrug*


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## Ambush Beast (Oct 31, 2010)

*Hi*



Black Steel Feathers said:


> It's just my signature! I only thought it was funny! * insert pleading/hurt look here*
> 
> Wow. I just wanted advice to improve my storytelling, not aspersions cast on my sense of humour.
> 
> ...



Don't be hurt. I was just saying... Just wanted to know what was the point of it. P.S. I did like the story a whole lot. Insert smiley face here.


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