# Honour and Vengence



## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

Hi all, well I have being sayin i will for days so here my finished story. I will keep posting if interest is shown. As always c&c is wanted,

Prolouge:

The air crackled around me as I moved toward it, drawing two easily ancient and obviously extremely powerful swords as I went. The creature bellowed a warcry and charged him. Its own weapon, a spear bathed in emerald fire ready to run him through. Just as it got close, I moved so fast he was simply a blur and in seconds the foul beast smoking at my feet. I stepped back as the world rushed back to me, the strange psychic driven rage had finally passed and as I turned to walk away I sheathed my swords and folded back up the miniature energy blades that were extended from my gun-metal armour.

Chapter 1 Part 1: Chapter 1: Knife in the Darkness

Before I continue let me give you a little bit of my background. I am Inquisitor-Enforcer Raymond Laston. At the time of this encounter I was 38 standard years old and had only recently started my work for the Lord Inquisitor of the fortress-planet of Pharos. My task was to hunt down rogue Inquisitors and dispose of them as graphically as humanly possible. To accomplish this, I had been trained under the harsh instructors of the Ordos Assassinorum. Of the class of 30 I arrived with at age 7, only I had survived the brutal training regime that consisted of instruction at both the Eversor temple and that of the Vanus. After I emerged at age 27, I was transported to the Ordos headquarters on Pharos’ moon. Here I was subject to fierce mental and physical regimes of torture and deadly training exercises with the goal of making me resistant to torture and to prepare me for the path ahead. Upon the completion of my training I was gifted with a modified Identification Rosette, instead of the usual design this one was made in the shape of a leering demon’s head mounted on a stylised capital I. As well as this I was given ancient and powerful force swords as my badge of office and after an unbelievably painful operation, a suit of genetically bonded armour. Made out of the same material as the warships that patrol the vast expanses of troubled space in the Imperium. It was bonded to my very bones, had miniature energy blades attached at strategic places, a mind impulse unit that allowed me to channel my immense psychic power into a more manageable energy form and miniature flamers built into the palms of my gauntlets. In other words I was given the tools to accomplish my missions and genetically engineered to kill everyone in my way. For 150 years I have done this job and quietly enjoyed every minute of it. Over the first few years of my service I gathered a team of specialists that included my pilot Kardus, who was an ex-pirate from the Gangris asteroid belt, Maspa, a sniper from the heights of Pharos’ capital hive city; and the terminally loyal servitor Gong. I was assigned an Inquisitorial handler as soon as I left Pharos for the first time and by the time of this chronicle I had begun to accept Anderous as part of my team. Together we travelled the galaxy killing rogues and heretics in even the highest places. It’s this that has gotten me into the worst spots of the galaxy.

It was 420.M40. A year of great upheaval, hundreds of full-blown cults had emerged across the sector and started what would become a long and bloody struggle as the sector fleet rushed from system to system to aid desperately hard pressed local defence forces. Throughout the opening months of 420 I had been hunting down a rogue Interrogator by the name of Piron. According to one of Anderous’ savants Piron was pretty small in the scheme of things, but he had somehow acquired a copy of the Tralus Compendium. An oddly innocent looking book, the Tralus Compendium was proscribed text due to the fact it contained detailed instructions on how to contact the denizens of the warp. It was the grandmaster’s concern that Piron might sell this text, this prompted my involvement in the hunt. We eventually caught up with him on Sameter, an out of the way agricultural planet on the Southern arm of the sector. It was in the middle of winter and he had taken refuge from the cold in a smoky, out of the way bar.

Anderous deployed us with practised efficiency. Maspa went into an abandoned storehouse, the Inquisitor and his gunmen went round the back I was simply pointed towards the front door. As you may have guessed I was never meant to be a subtle means of justice, and to my already gathering reputation I blew the reinforced steel security door off its hinges with a blast of mental energy and stepped through the smoke, shotgun firmly in my hands. Las fire filled the air, I ducked behind an overturned table. My jaw dropped within the confines of my helmet as I recognized the sound of a high calibre machinegun. I clicked my vox-link and bellowed at Maspa
“Witch doctor, Hunter, target 6 m from right wall”
Maspa drawled an unrecognizable reply and I was just about to ask again when the heavy fire stopped. I stood and shot the three remaining cultists, who were gaping at the dead gunner. Piron was cowering under the bar when I found him.
“Where is the Tralus Compendium?” I yelled at him “where is it heretic?”
Piron spat on my armoured boot in reply, so I kicked him with that same boot up and lifted him into the air with my mind. He still refused to speak so started to crush is wiry frame
“Where has the book!” I screamed at him, Piron managed to get his hand to a concealed pocket in his elaborate sleeves. I thought he was going for the book so I slowly relaxed my mind grip. No such luck, with the click that resonated around the bar, Piron was released from my hold and I was slammed through the door as well as several toilet cubicles. He could have tried to run right then, but he followed me in. It was only as he started to speak that I noticed the shimmering void shield he had used to turn the tables.
“So this is Orsus’ new pet assassin,” he said “why can't you just leave me alone! I must ponder my illumination. Leave me alone!” He was getting hysterical now and waving an ornate pistol around in his gloved right hand. I stood and drew my twin force swords. Each was just over a metre, with inlaid crystalline circuitry and a blood red crystal set in the pommel that pulsated when they were in my hands.
“You are a traitor and a heretic” I told him calmly as I closed the gap between us “I sentence you, Piron of Messina to death for your crimes against the Imperium”.
Piron went silent as my words sunk into his deranged mind. His left hand kept touching his hip pocket as if checking something. Before he could organise himself enough to try to fight, I swept both swords through his torso. The top half of him flew across the room. I lunged into his pocket and withdrew a very important, little leather book. As if on an unseen queue, Anderous burst in a back door with his lugging hand cannons, and Kardus called me unsubtle. I shook my head at this display.
“Well done my Lord” I called over sarcastically and tossed the compendium to him “target’s already dead”
I pointed over to what was left of Piron’s body with a bored sweep of my hand. Amderous cast a glance over the corpse and one of his hired guns left in a hurry looking slightly green.

It took three weeks of warp travel aboard the sprint trader Garagoth to reach the local inquisitorial headquarters on Thracian. When we arrived we were greeted by Master Orsus himself. I immediately knew something was wrong.
“ My friends welcome back to my lair” Orsus boomed. “I have another task for you”.
Anderous, Maspa, Kardus and the brutish bodyguard Anderous had brought all bowed low; Gong tried very hard to copy the others but only succeeded in falling on its chrome face plate. I ignored the withering looks Orsus’ assorted scribes and guards gave me and remained upright.
“Master?” I inquired.
“Piron was just a hanger on, the real threat is his teacher.” Orsus paused for effect “Inquisitor Farrud of the Ordos Hereticus is known to have somehow gathered a dozen gamma class psychics and a foul demon host.” My lord was obviously expecting some kind of reaction but I just waited for him to continue.
"It is this last bit that prompted a joint-Ordos investigation” Orsus continued “It is now clear that he has allies amongst the Ordos Malleus, You will find him on Gundrun but try not to destroy everything while you’re there.”
I allowed myself a small smile, finally bowed and left. The ever faithful Gong followed me as fast as its duratsteel legs could propel it. Maspa was next and had a game of knuckles with Kardus to see who was going down to fight on Gundrun.

More to come,:mrgreen:

Sniper


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## Crimson_fists (Oct 19, 2008)

Looks good to me, a very different type of writing compared to others. A few left out words, it was interesting to say the least. Keep typing my friend.


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

Thanks Crimson Fist, sorry about the missed words (Im using a voice recognition program so I can type it faster, already have it handwriten:grin And now for the next bit

Part 1 Chapter 2:
The warp travel to Gundrun was only four days, but this time I was aboard the Inquisitorial Scion Class Carrier Eternal Vigilance, which was going to continue on, after dropping my team and Anderous’ small army off, to the fighting on Paragon Minor. I spent the time researching my target and trading stories with the security sergeant assigned to my sector of the cabins. Farrud was a radical, but highly respected. There had never been any hint of anything more than borderline in his demeanour and his record was one of average performance but it was for his steadfast loyalty to his men and the fact that he never broke his word. Despite this he had somehow fallen and taken the step off the line and into the crevice. Anderous consulted his minions and found suspicious transactions between Farrud and a cult known as the Heralds of the Night. By all accounts it was a large-scale heretical force that was known to be fighting imperial forces on several planets in the neighbouring system. 

With a lurch we arrived at low orbit around Gundrun on the fourth day. My team hurried into a camouflaged gun runner, originally it had belonged to Kardus but where he had joined my team and so I had the ship refitted to fit my specific needs. So, with Anderous’ more heavily armed Firebird lander flying shotgun, we descended through the morning cloud cover.

We landed without any trouble on the main continent, just outside where Farrud lived with his staff. As per normal, Gong went into the forest with his assault cannon whirling and his augmented eyes glowing slightly in the early morning fog. I took Maspa off to the left and he hurried off to find a covering position.
“Watchman, Hunter, status” I muttered over my helmet’s vox-link as we neared the house.
“ Hunter, watchman, sleeping dogs” Anderous’ muffled voice came back. I stiffened. If Anderous was right then Farrud’s guards were waiting just outside the forest. I signed to Maspa and sprinted into my final position.
“ Hunter, the surrounding stop” I said, to inform my handler was ready.
“ Witch doctor, watching the world turn” Maspa had a position watching the target.
“ Follower, prepared” Gong droned over the net, using his prized call sign for the first time that year.
“ Buckler, ready to engage” Anderous’ chief of staff boomed over the vox.
I shook my head at the brutish lack of code, then asked calmly
“ Hunter to watchman” There was a pause of soft static but finally I heard Anderous’ curt reply
“ Watchman with buckler waiting for the stars”.
I replied in an equally short fashion before signalling for Maspa to the take the shot

A disappointingly soft phunt announced his compliance and the guard leader fell over with what appeared to be a large pinhole in his skull. I rose and drew an oddly enlarged shot gun from a sheath between my shoulder blades. It was a heavily converted combat shot gun, I had modified it to fire solid slug rounds that had originally been meant for hunting the massive land whales of my home planet. It was fitted with a 15 round box magazine but due to the restrictions of how much I could carry on the job, I only carried another 10 loose rounds. In other words I had to close in fast. I ran straight towards the milling bodyguards with las and solid fire bursting around me. Every few moments another foe was dropped by the scarily accurate sniper fire of Maspa. Unfortunately there were too many of them for one gunman, even as skilled as he was, to pin down and I was trapped in a stand bushes. Murderous fire simply erupted from the tree-line as my ever loyal servitor broke concealment and began to lay down supporting fire. Its assault cannon blazed and it was waving its other arm in a bad copy of a general calling on his men to advance. Advance they did, spurred on by Gong’s show of selfless bravery, Anderous led his henchmen into the fray.
“Master, Go!” Gong intoned through it’s inbuilt communicator. I ran towards the building with my shotgun in my hands and my mind searching for a target. Unfortunately they found me first.

That bit was much shorter but I have to get my uniform ready for tommorrow. I will post some more later if I get the time.

Sniper


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## Crimson_fists (Oct 19, 2008)

Read the next part as well, Gong seems to be my favourite so far. A loyal, autocannon weilding, servitor with a sense of humour. Whats not to love about that?


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

Ok then now for the next bit and the chapter list. Thanks for the rep by the way crimson fist

Chapter 1: Knife in the Darkness
Chapter 2: Vengence of the Gods
Chapter 3: Line in the sand
Chapter 4:Endgame

Chapter 1 part 3:
I got two steps through the majestic front door before a wall of psychic force slammed me straight back out. By the time I got back up ice had begun to gather around the chamber, the source was two twisted mutants who had appeared on the balcony now appeared intent on turning my mind into a fine paste. I blocked the first psychic barb and reached out with my mind towards the balcony. With a heave of mental effort I dislodged it and they fell screaming into the polished hardwood floor. Too late that I realised they were a distraction. There was a cackle of laughter and not one but two demon hosts floated into view.
“So… Another morsel” the first droned.
“Welcome to our hell mortal” the second cackled.
I unslung my shot gun and shot three of the gunmen that were milling about in the next chamber, before putting a hint of psychic tone in my voice and yelled back at the beasts
“ It is you will die, scum, and then you will face an eternity of torment”
I shot the first one between the eyes and it fell back with a scream. The other daemon used its psychic power to send me through the high roof. I impacted on the tiles with a thump and a hollow pain in my chest that I knew meant I had broken at least one rib. Nevertheless I picked myself back up and sent the ball of psy-lighting back at the beast below.

I jumped back into the chamber and my hand went to the holster on my back, empty! The daemon hosts were coming towards me and I knew just how much trouble I had gotten myself into. The daemon host raised its lightning-wreathed fists and floated towards me. I raised my own gauntlets and sent a plume of psy-fire at the creature. It fell back screaming and I used a lull to draw my force swords, wreath them in the same undying flame and unsheathe all of the blades hidden on my armour. I dropped into a defensive stance and ushered the daemon hosts to attack. They didn't disappoint me. With matching war cries that were more psychic than vocal the two daemons advanced. I sidestepped the first one and sliced it length ways as it went past. The other host was on me in a split second the world shrunk into a one and a half metre sphere of the ancient mansion, centred on this worthy foe. It lunged at me with claws of fire but I rolled under the potentially fatal strike and rammed both swords through the rune of containment on its scorched chest. It screamed and then vanished, its essence absorbed by the very energy that had created it. As the remaining ash fell to the ground a shot clipped my left knee. Blood sprayed everywhere and I roared in agony, collapsing onto the ground.
“ I don't die that easily mortal” a voice call from behind me. I spun and saw one of Anderous’ men holding an ex-guard issue las-rifle. The difference was that his eyes were completely blank. I rolled to avoid the next burst and drew my side arms. Twin plasma pistols; manufactured by the Sub-Magos of the forgeworld Platox himself for my master as an offering of respect. I had been given them at the age of 16 and trusted their master-crafted workings with my life. I fired twice from each one and hit the creature three of those times. The first two took an arm and a leg off and the third took its head clean off in an unbearably bright lance of green light. By some sort of gross misfortune the fourth shot hit the main security doors controls, effectively cutting my off from my friends. I painfully stood and performed a quick overhead strike into the body thus eliminating its essence. Over the next two minutes I stayed still and applied a field dressing to my knee . When I was done I retrieved my weapons, reloaded and slammed open the next door. Armed cultists jumped out from their hiding places and a well-prepared gun pit opened fire with an automatic anti-tank rifle, but I had already scanned the room and so I walked in with my arms raised. The cultists were gobsmacked yet their surprise turn to their horror as, with a roar of hatred I released a cone of fire from the miniature flamers attached to the palms of the gauntlets. The once grand hallway turned into a funnel for the rolling flames the just incinerated them where they stood. The 3 inch thick steel backed walls simply melted away under the intense heat and for a moment I almost felt sorry for them but then my training reasserted itself and I walked through the screaming mass that was all that was left of the dozen or so cultists.

The next chamber I found was much larger, a hanger I presume. It was there I found Farrud. I didn’t waste time talking, I sent a wall of psychic force straight through the cargo hauler that was idling at the eastern end of the hangar. The first of his bodyguards were flung away by the same blast. The next two in turn received a round to the face courtesy of the lasrifle in my hands. Farrud’s remaining four guards spread out and began firing some sort of fletchete launchers at me. I rolled into cover and fired at the one on the left, he fell with a muffled cry. One of them broke cover and I shot him, well I tried to but the gun jammed.
“Damn it!” I yelled and threw the battered rifle to the ground. I drew my two pistols and rose firing. Firing quick double taps I simply walked towards them and Farrud. Fletchetes smacked off bits of discarded equipment around me but I kept going. Streaks of painfully bright plasma raced out in front of me, each double tap killed a cultist. By the time I reached my fourth step only Farrud was left. He drew a simply gigantic power glaive and screamed
“Leave this place Assassin, you are not welcome here!” I shrugged, smiled and replied
“ I kind of guessed that from all the guns” I paused with a vindictive feeling “and the demon hosts”
Farrud recoiled in shock.
“You can't be alive if you fought Al’Karnos and Fargon’na”
I flexed the power blades on my armour and sent him the memories of their deaths. Farrud dropped to his knees and called out some kind of mantra. The air was filled with the smell of ozone and suddenly I was surrounded by five traitor terminators, their 8ft tall mass was swathed in bright colours and foul symbols of power. The biggest one had what appeared to be some kind of warped speaker that was easily as large as the impossibly large broadswords they were carrying in each hand. I had no choice but use the emergency, untested displacement field to get out being surrounded by these enormous creatures. At that moment the security door at the hangar mouth was blown off the rails and in trudged Gong, followed by Anderous’ 30 odd soldiers and Maspa, who had his best poker face on and his trademark silenced M56 sniper rifle slung over one skinny shoulder. Farrud turned at the noise and swore as my Gunrunner hovered into view. Kardus, easily visible through the armoured canopy, had a smile on that matched the shark’s grin he had insisted on painting on the gunrunner’s blunt nose. Farrud’s new allies lumbered to meet this new threat, well all but one who was too slow and ended up as paste in Kardus’ opening salvo. Farrud swung his glaive up and I barely managed to get my sword around to block it, painful vibrations shot up my arm as the two blades collided with a shower of sparks. I rolled under the next swing, my armour blades ripping long gashes in his chest armour. I cut his armoured legs out from under him and sheathed my swords as he fell with a scream. A hidden compartment in my forearm armour opened as I stood over his bloody bleeding torso, a 3 inch steel stiletto flashed out and moved to hover over his pale face as I began to speak
“Farrud you turned away from the Ordos, now you must pay the price for your treachery”
“You cannot begin to understand what you have angered today, my dear enforcer” he whispered in reply
“Save it traitor” I intoned and I impaled the stiletto into his throat with a flick of my mind.
“Watchman, Hunter, the symbol shatters, force off the gods leave by the heaven's speed” I voxed as I ran into the next chamber to aid my team against their terrible foes

They were all dead, their armoured corpses split open by heavy fire or diced by grinding chain blades. I stopped as Anderous limped over towards me, blood dripping from several light wounds.
“ Cut the code you idiot” he snapped “ everyone within range is either loyal or dead”
I nodded and motioned Gong over.
“Tell Kardus we are ready to go and do a scan for life signs” I ordered the servitor.
“Roger Lord” Gong droned in reply and trundled off to higher ground.

Minutes later we took off from Gundrun and docked with an imperial troop transport, it was on its way back to Thracian to collect yet another regiment. The crew stayed well away from us on the journey, I think was probably the fact that we were carrying Farrud and the terminator’s heads aboard Anderous’ Firebird. Although the daemon head on my rosette may not have helped. Two days later we arrived on Thracian and even before I saw my master, I knew that something was terribly wrong.

C&C is welcome as always,

Sniper


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## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Very interesting writing style, and I love the first person! Great work!

-Dirge


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

Thanks Dirge, It's not all in third person though, only that chapter and chapter 4 
On that note here's the next instalment

Chapter 2: Vengence of the Gods
Part 1:
Arcanos strode through the ancient Hall of the fallen on Terrafix toward the chapter court. He was resplendent in his artificer crafted power armour with his power sword in the sheath on his right leg and a bolter slung across his large shoulders. His NCOs were walking behind him, they were all in power armour but the rest of their equipment was a mixed bag, from boxy jump packs to slender-bladed short swords. Nevertheless these men had fought side-by-side for a century. Captain Arcanos leader of the second company of the Swords of Vengeance, led his battle brothers into the massive, domed inner sanctum of the chapter. Seated on an onyx throne at the back of the room was a massive man in terminator plate the colour of the void, his silver augmenting right eye and equally metallic hair stood out against his face, pale from centuries of fighting in the confines of a helmet. His remaining eye glittered with intelligence and his massive broad sword radiated menace. Arcanos nodded to the honour guard behind the giants’ throne, ignoring the silent silver armoured warriors that stood off in the shadows and bowed low, his companions echoing his show of respect. The master of the Swords of Vengeance chapter rose to greet his soldiers.
“Rise my brothers, do not give yourselves sore knees” he said with a smile “I have a mission for you”
Arcanos rose but the rest of his marines stayed kneeling and he lowered his helmeted head
“ There has been a raid on Barrus two, the traitors are at a standstill with the Dark Angels 8th company under Captain Cygol” he continued “You are to lead the second company to assist them”
A sense of expecting tension settled over the marine captain and it took considerable effort to avoid showing his joy at the prospect of a war against the creatures that once had been his chapter's brothers in arms.
“ When can we leave?” Arcanos asked very quickly. Master Rorken smiled and replied with equal eagerness.
“How soon do you want t-” Rorken stopped because his honour captain was already gone, he chuckled, sipped his wine and went back to running a force that could decimate whole star systems.

Arcanos strode toward the setting company mess, giving orders to the NCOs that followed in his wake.
“Go to your squads Brothers and be at launch bay 4 in two hours ready to go”-the sergeants ran ahead- “ Chaplain, gather what you need then get to the launch bay”-the skull faced warrior nodded and then ducked back into his quarters- “Admiral you know the drill”- The noble looking Naval officer begun to gather his bridge crew, Arcanos reached his destination and turned to face the last follower.
“Barrus gather your men and be ready to crush these traitors”
“Oh we will my friend” the massive terminator sergeant intoned before ponderously walking away. Arcanos nodded at his friend’s retreating back and headed to the secondary underground wing. There was someone else he had to see.

The still air was filled with the stench of gun-oil and prayer laden smoke. Arcanos strode through the smog without slowing and ducked into the chapel beyond. He was met three steps in by two score troopers of the 11th Terrafixan Inquisitorial Guard, their hellguns aimed unwaveringly at the captain. Arcanos smiled at their determination, it was exactly what he needed on Barrus two. He showed them his personal heraldry and motioned for one of them to test his blood. The poor trooper looked up at his enormous stature and was completely out of his depth as to where you should get the sampler past Arcanos’ armour.
“Welcome my friend” A voice pierced the underground air, “ let him pass men.”
The troopers melted back into their cabin space and Arcanos strode over to the figure saying
“ Thanks my friend, I have come with a proposition”
“Let’s hear it then” Interrogator Falone said slowly.
“War has called, I am leading the second to answer. Will your master join us?” Arcanos asked.
“My master was called away” Falone barked with a hint of relish “but I will lead the men of the inquisition to war with you”
Arcanos grinned, and took his old allies hand. With a good bye he left the chapel of the Inquisition.

Two hours later Captain Arcanos, leader of the second company, commander of the honour guard had his army. Apart from 98 marines of the second company, 800 of the elite troopers of the 11th TIG led by Interrogator Falone, 2000 men of the 51st Terrafixan Imperial Guard Regiment and 30 scouts of the 10th company at parade rest in the fourth launch bay ready to embark the Barrus two. Arcanos marched out to the front of the massive force with a small smile and set his vox set for high output.
“Warriors of Terrax, Warriors of the Emperor” he boomed over his set “ Traitors have invaded Barrus two, I am going to aid our allies in punishing them for their arrogance. Who will join in this noble goal? Who amongst you will answer the Emperor’s call to war”
The answering cheer set off his helmet auto-senses and the audio feeds shut off to protect his ears. Arcanos nodded and began directing the men onto the waiting troop ships and thunder hawks.

Thanks for the comments fellow heretics,

Sniper


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

Next bit time, hmmmm C&C please everyone its always good to have

Chapter 2 Part 2

Fires lanced across the smoky skies as drop pods and landing craft plummeted from the heavens. Arcanos checked his bolter for the third time in two minutes. If asked he would say that he was being thorough, but for the venerable captain it was a way of coping with the calm before a battle. Despite his inner turmoil Arcanos scanned his enhanced eyes over the nine marines in his command squad, their status runes all glowed emerald and they were going over their equipment with practiced economy.
“20 seconds” droned the servitor guiding the drop pod. Arcanos turned his gaze to its hardwired torso and nodded in response. Sure enough, 18 seconds later they jarred to a stop. Arcanos looked around, unbuckled and kicked down the jammed hatch. His squad was moving into craters and other cover even before it hit the dusty earth. Their captain was last out, already directing the battle around him. 
“Squad Narcus move out left into that factory, Squad Garodus cover them, Major Appleby get your troops into that hab complex and section foxtrot, Falone tag along behind the guardsmen in case they run into any traitor marines”
A stream of confirmations returned almost immediately. Arcanos smiled in satisfaction and formed up the rest of his company to form a spearhead with him at its heart.

Ten minutes into their advance, Scout squad Zulu spotted the Dark Angels forward muster-point they voxed this back to their captain and simply walked up to the rear most bunker with veteran sergeant Octavian at their head. They were greeted by the sight of a squad’s worth of bolters being aimed into their midst, Octavian stepped forward and bellowed out
“What manner of mockery is this? Soldiers of the Emperor greeted by the guns of our own brothers”, he was still moving forward as he spoke, trusting in his instinct and his heraldry to hold their fire. Sure enough the bolters lowered, a sergeant in the over-robes of a veteran stepped out of the bunker and tersely replied
“ State your business and your chapter”
“ We are part of the forward elements of the imperial relief force and I am Sergeant Octavian of the Swords of Vengeance chapter”.
The Dark Angel voxed the information through and raised his bolt pistol, Octavian shook his bald head and suddenly there was black armoured marines everywhere chainsaws grinding in their hands and bolters aimed at the stunned Dark Angels.
“Put the pistol away sergeant” Captain Arcanos ordered as he advanced out of the shadows, the green armoured marine reluctantly holstered his side arm and glared at the new arrivals. Arcanos simply walked past the bunker and straight into the base, daring the sentries to try and stop him. None did and Arcanos banged on the hatch of Captain Cygol’s command tank, it eventually hissed open and Arcanos stomped in with a bellowed question
“ Why are your marines threatening my men Cygol?”
The emerald armoured warrior turned, fixed Arcanos with glacial look and yelled back
“I’m fighting a war against a foe that has many different faces, with renegades on his side. I can’t just trust soldiers simply from the colour of their armour”
“Fair enough” Arcanos replied, seeing the sense in the other marine’s words. “I will set my men up on your eastern flank”
Cygol nodded and began directing servitor work crews to the area. Arcanos stalked back to organise the forces under his command into campsites and gun pickets. The platoon commanders sensed his rage and didn't try to argue about trivial disagreements. That took the better part of the day so by the time the last guardsmen trickled into their formations Arcanos had a plan.

Tracers lanced towards the phantoms as they struck, it bounced off their bulky armour and the defenders were quickly silenced by return shots. Arcanos bellowed a war cry as he hit the heretic line like a proverbial brick house. Bayonets jabbed at him and small arms fire bounced off his armour. He spun the sword in his right hand at the traitor before him and relieved him of his head. Arcanos spun back and rammed the whirling chain blade in his other hand through lasgun, uniform and bone, and yet another trooper fell. A shot knocked the chain blade out of his hand. Arcanos eviscerated the offending traitor before shoulder charging the two soldiers behind the spasming corpse. They were reduced to little more than soup and boots by the blow.
“Captain, duck!” called a marine behind him. Arcanos dropped just in time as a stream of heavy calibre shells roared past were his head had been moments before. The Captain rose, nodded his thanks and ran off down the trench line. Six steps later a squad of traitor guardsmen rounded the corner in front of him. Arcanos dropped two and clipped one with a burst from his bolter. Before they could react he was amongst them, kicking, slicing and punching everything in reach. In seconds there was nothing but corpses around him and so he kept running.

Cheers,

Sniper


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

Next Installment time,

Chapter 3: Line in the sand

Sergeant Thomas Simons gathered his squad and pointed out their target in the distance.
“That’s where we’re going guys” he said through his helmet intercom “ problem is there are about 150 armed heretics in the way”
The giant at the back chuckled before replying with
“A challenge would have been to do this with our shoelaces mate”.
“ Just get moving Chris” Tom replied with a grin that was hidden by his re-breather.

Corporal Christopher Masters shouldered his hellgun with another green and led them through the ruined city. As they moved, Tom kept wondering what this burnt out husk looked like back in better times, giant buildings, golden in the afternoon sun. A gunshot snapped him back to reality, or rather the sudden pain in his chest did, and he was punched back by a wall of force through a ruined doorway. Tom blacked out for a few heartbeats. By the time the storm troop Sergeant came to, the 10 man squad was already surrounded on three sides by enemy forces.
“Sarge, are you ok?” Chris called over his shoulder as he blasted at some unseen foe.
“Yeh, I’m just a bit winded” Tom replied, standing and bringing his own rifle to bear. Chris glanced at his chest plate and the three bullets lodged just above his heart with a sardonic expression but kept blasting away at the rapidly closing foe. As they got even closer the bruised sergeant finally got a good glimpse at what they were fighting. If his re-breather had let him his jaw would have dropped. None of them looked to have reached their 15th summer. Had it not been from the large rifles and hate filled expressions, the trooper might have thought they were on their way home. Suddenly these children were in amongst them and there was no more time for thought. Tom blocked an impossibly strongly swung stock with his gauntlet and swung his combat knife around to parry an equally fierce bayonet thrust. ‘How is this possible’ he thought, desperately swinging his hellgun to block a flying butcher's knife. Decades of training, beaten into him by the drill instructors on Terrax, kicked in and cleared all his confusion. In its place came a cold feeling of impassiveness are spreading to every move he made. Tom swung his rifle stock at the nearest child, knocking him back. The sergeant then grabbed the next foe by his scrawny neck and paused, a 14 inch long combat blade hovering millimetres from his sternum. Tom looked into the teen eyes and shuddered as he the depths of madness that resided there. Without a thought the dagger went through the crazed boy’s chest and he slid off with a disturbing slurp. Tom turned and shot three more of these madmen before they ran back into the alleyway they’d come from, leaving their dead behind. A trooper walked over to a secluded area and emptied his stomach. From their body language Tom knew that everyone felt just as sick at what happened. Truth be told Tom felt the exact same way.

They continued on, quieter now, wary for another ambush and the storm troopers eventually reached the mutated tower that had been their objective. Tom signalled a breach and his men all pulled out disorientation grenades. With a growl Chris kicked the door off its hinges, the troopers took turns to tossing their grenades into the hole. Tom smiled grimly as loud explosions filled the air and strobing light shone out of the doorway. When it stopped Chris swung into the room, hellgun raised, and blasted the two staggering gunners away from their weapon mount. The squad followed him in, occasionally shooting at one of the odd shadows that surrounded them.
“ Steady men” Tom breathed over the intercom “ We’ve been through worse than this.”
“ There are only shadows, they can't hurt you, see” one of the newer troopers bragged and swung his fist into the nearest one. A portion of the shadow lashed out and the trooper didn't even have time to scream as it sent him into a back flip, bone jutting out of his unnaturally bent neck. Pandemonium followed as the soldiers began emptying their power cells into the suddenly alive shadows, two more troopers were killed before the shadow creatures suddenly vanished, and not even the natural shadows remained behind. Eventually Chris broke the silence
“Grab their ammunition and supplies” he boomed at the survivors “ will come back for the bodies later”
The last men didn't argue and resolutely advanced into the next chamber, hellguns pointed at anything that moved.

Cheers,

Sniper


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## Sniper (Mar 9, 2008)

bah here i am about to start typing the next one of my storys up and i see i forgot to post the last bit of this one :angry: anyways here it is (my apologies if this is resurecting threads)

Part IV: Endgame

We descended from high orbit in Anderous’ light frigate. The expectancy bottled up in that cabin was so thick I could taste it. Finally, after months of searching we had finally tracked down the source of this corruption. He was commonly known as ‘the despot’, but I knew his real name was Tzarragon, and that he was in fact a singular master of over 150 cults in this sector alone. The pilot set us down on the eastern side of the target building.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t have informed the local forces?” Kardus yelled over the roar of the engines.
“Anderous made the call” I replied, absently fiddling with a sliver of glass. Gong clicked into one of its many urban combat modes, and waddled off into the darkness. Anderous followed on, his several guards carrying various firearms between them. I sketched a salute to Maspa, who was staying with the frigate to provide sniper support and followed the wayward servitor. At my beckoning Kardus hurried to catch up, pausing only to light a cigar on the pilot light of his flamer.

A few hundred metres later we came across the entrance to the towering structure. Kardus took an oddly shaped, paper wrapped parcel from his webbing and busied himself trying to attach it to the door. With a maniac grin he waved us all back, ducked behind a fallen lamppost and clicked what appeared to be a tobacco tin. There was a deafening explosion and the door was blown off its hinges in a pillar of flame. Several burning yet strangely silent creatures stumbled out; I put them out of their misery with a blast from a shot gun and ran straight through the dying inferno into the darkness beyond.

We sprinted through the twisted corridors, leaving Gong behind to guard the only exit. Suddenly the cramped corridor spread into a massive ballroom, but it wasn't the gold-plated ceiling that caught my attention, no, it was the cough of bolter fire from the next room. I blew the door open with a whim and lead my team into the fray. Locked in combat as we can in were a dozen black armoured giants and at least 30 cultists armed with various sharp objects and homemade firearms. I laid into the cultists, swords slashing left and right. The poor cultists fought with anything they could get and at one point one of them bit me in the arm as I disembowelled his friend. Despite this, within minutes they were all dead or missing important body parts. I turned away from the carnage and was confronted by the sight of the surviving space marines pointing their weapons at me. Behind the main group stood a marine carrying an elaborately woven fabric banner emblazoned with a silver skull resting on two crossed golden swords, over several dozen honours won in battles I had previously thought were merely legendary. With a snap I realised that this must be Captain Arcanos of the Swords of Vengeance and his command squad, up to that point I had only heard of the captain from briefings and Orsus, who oversaw the Inquisition surveillance force assigned to the chapter. A 7ft black armoured marine with a highly embroidered silver cloak hanging from his massive light brown shoulder guards stepped towards me, sword held low by his side, bolter in a leg holster and what appeared to be a chain blade of a massive scale sheathed across his back. From his heraldry I realised this was the venerable captain himself.
“Inquisitor-Enforcer Raymond Laston” I said fastening my ID to my chest “I believe we have a common foe.”
Arcanos nodded his helmeted head and motioned me to continue but just as I opened my mouth a ragged Inquisitorial storm trooper stumbled through the far door. The blood that coated his lower half stood out shockingly against his matt-grey armour and dark green fatigues. Arcanos barked something over the vox in what I assumed to be Terrafixan and his squad medic, easily recognisable from his bone coloured helmet, hurried over to the wounded man. I followed closely and when the trooper saw my rosette he forced out a gurgling warning, punctuated by violent bouts of coughing up blackened blood.
“The others…. Still fighting….Back there….Went to get……They came out of the shadows”
With that effort he sighed, coughed up one more mouthful of black blood and went limp. The medic looked up and shook his head, his expression blocked by the menacing visage of his helmet. Arcanos barked several orders, put his helmet back on and followed his men toward the next room. I sent a quick message to the others and followed. Arcanos turned to me and said
“You should have stayed and waited for your backup Laston, the rest of the second company are on the way but until they arrive we are on our own.”
“I know that Captain but this is my hunt too” I replied instantly.
It was hidden but I knew the Captain was smiling when he stopped and said with a touch of feral bloodlust
“Good, now let’s finish this.”
I nodded and ran on.

We were soon in midst of the fierce fighting, the enemy were creatures that were cloaked in shadows and imbued with terrible strength and wickedly hooked daggers. I slashed the first one straight across the throat before it realised I was there and roasted another two as they turned to engage me. Arcanos was a tornado of destruction, he fought with a more brutal version of the style I used. His blades smashed straight through blocks and he used the flat of the blades to deal almost as much damage as the edges. I was more amazed at the storm trooper sergeant that was fighting back to back with Arcanos, firing his hellgun in one hand and slashing with a long, straight-edged combat knife in the other. The rest of his squad weren’t doing so well a corporal was directing them in a square formation. They were repelling each group of shadow-creatures with accurate fire and some fierce bayonet work but every so often one of them would fall and not get up.

After several long minutes of this, there was a cry of unbelievably intense ecstasy and Tzarragon himself simply stepped out of thin air.
“Die Imperial scum!” he yelled and hacked the heroic Sergeant down with a gem encrusted scimitar. He went down his a scream minus his left arm. Arcanos bellowed in rage and lunged at the offender. Tzarragon swatted the massive captain away like a fly, Arcanos flew across the room in a tangle of broken armour and what was left of his command squad closed ranks around their immobile leader. I charged toward Tzarragon while he was distracted watching Arcanos fall and managed to get within arms reach before he noticed me. He swung his scimitar at me. I barely managed to block it with one of my swords, holding on through the painful jarring that shot up my arm. With a yell of my own I swung the other sword through the animal’s wrist, psychic induced fire ran up his arm. As I came around for another swing I felt a massive pain shoot across my spine, then vertigo and then, nothing.

Tom groaned as consciousness roared back into his mind, he winced at the pain from his arm and searched for his fallen gun. Instead he saw the grey figure that had driven off the shadow creatures lying prone beside him, blood pooling from a blow to the back. Next to him though was a odd looking shotgun with a box magazine still attached. Tom swung the unfamiliar weapon toward the beast that had taken the lives of his men. With a shout of defiance he fired and managed to break the bones in his remaining arm with the recoil. As cold, darkness rose up to claim him again the sergeant saw his nemesis collapse, its head just a fine, red mist. Tom smiled, he had avenged his dear men. He suddenly and distinctly smelt the sweet smell of the pine forests of his homeland. Only then did he finally surrender to the darkness. Thus Sergeant Thomas Simons died, his duty fulfilled, honour satisfied and his men avenged.

C&C is always apreciated

Sniper


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