# The Wolftime



## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

This is a short story set after the Thousand Son's attack Fenris, this ofcourse is all fictional and has not actually happened (Well not on the scale this is about) and though there should have been more I decided to stop writting, have fun:victory:

_"Listen but closely Brothers, for my life's breath is all but spent. There shall come a time far from now when our Chapter itself is dying, even as I am now dying, and our foes shall gather to destroy us. Then my children, I shall listen for your call in whatever realm of death holds me, and come I shall, no matter what the laws of life and death forbid. At the end I will be there. For the final battle. For the Wolftime." _ - Last Words of Leman Russ


Fenris burned under the might of the Thousand Sons. The Space Wolves had been feasting when the vast fleet of the Thousand Sons supported by some three hundred other Traitor Ships were spat from the Warp, trailing debris as transports unfolded from their parents and tilted towards the constantly changing world. The Thousand Sons escorts flared ahead like packs of baying wolves, overlapping each other as cannons unfolded from their shimmering blue and gold hides. 

Scarab Class Fighters sped from launch bays in their hundreds, swirling like a swarm of angry bees they overwhelmed the Imperial Cargo Ships valiantly trying to buy time for the Space Wolves Fleet which was still anchored in high orbit. Missiles streaked outwards from the Traitor Fleet, swirling in great white plumes. The Astartes sleek Frigates pulled from their moors with extreme force, snapping the towers and pulling chunks of hull away. 

The Space Wolves Fleet was starting to fight back. Seven Strike Cruisers supported by a pair of ancient Battlebarges now surged forwards like a rampaging bull, Bombardment Cannons fired every eight minutes each one taking a toll out of the tightly packed enemy fleet. The Space Wolves planet side, almost the entire Chapter were now busy manning the many bastions of the immense Fang, pointing into the skies with stubby armoured fingers as ships exploded like orange and yellow flowers. 

A Space Wolves Strike Cruiser was lit up as a deadly salvo from more than fifty ships tore through its thick armour, shredding hundreds of Serfs and cutting through vital systems. The ships lights fluttered on and off twice, one last missile streaking from its launcher before its back broke in two and a deadly white explosion that blackened the hull of the nearest Battlebarge which rocked violently in the ever expanding wave of searing hot flames.

The second Battlebarge, a vast ship with a howling wolf painted humbly upon its blunt nose found itself being circled by a pair of Thousand Son Strike Cruisers like a shark would do to its prey. The Battlebarge opened fire with its mighty quad-flak cannons, sending metre thick pieces of shrapnel piercing through the pair of enemy ships, they returned fire a minute later and the Battlebarge wasn’t so lucky. A pair of glowing blue pillars struck the Battlebarge, cutting through eight decks it pealed away the grey paint and sent flames rolling through hallways and incinerating fleeing Huscarls.

The Space Wolves fleet pulled away from their enemy, badly mauled not one ship was undamaged by the enemy fire. The Scarab Fighters stopped dead in their tracks as Magnus The Red, Cyclopean Of Prospero and Primarch of the Thousand Sons ordered them back into their cavernous ship holds, to ‘lick their wounds’ as Logan Grimnar declared as he placed on his mighty Tactical Dreadnaught Armour. 

The Wolves fleet set about on a new task, laying deadly mines that would tear the Thousand Sons limb from limb. Thunderhawks and other various shuttles taken from the few surviving Imperial Navy ships present carried the mighty warheads into no-mans land, deploying them hidden amongst wreckage that the Sons would be forced to pass through. The Space Wolves would not let Fenris fall and were prepared to fight inch for bloody inch to hold off the Traitors Of Prospero.

The blue and gold fleet began to stir. From deep in its battle formations a giant Grand Cruiser, its flanks bristling with bulging cannons began to move forwards hastily. The remaining Strike Cruisers pulled forwards ahead of the remaining Battlebarge, which was now slowly limping behind its faster, smaller cousins . The Thousand Sons ship pushed away the wreckage of a bulk carrier and pressed its armoured nose onto one of the mines, which bobbed for a few seconds before its detonation stud pushed down onto the charge and exploded outwards.

The vast warship twisted and turned as its studded nose crumpled inwards under the immense force, entire decks that had taken decades to forge vanished in seconds along with the thousands of Traitors onboard it. Broken conduits sparked as the Strike Cruisers took vantage of the gaping wound and send hundred, if not thousands of missiles and heavy shells spinning inwards. The ship was falling apart by its seems as the ship let out one final death throe in the form of a giant salvo and opened fire upon its attackers.

The two closest Strike Cruisers disappeared suddenly in glancing white beams. Their crews being burned to ash under the power of the Thousand Sons. Cries sounded from the surviving Space Wolves ships as their brethren were immolated. Space Wolves slammed their fists into the arm rests of their Command Thrones as the enemy behemoth began to list dangerously.

With a mighty roar over the ship to ship Vox’ the Wolves pounded the ship with another massive salvo that sent the ship into flames. The ensuing shockwave scattered the remaining Sons Of Fenris ships, each one spinning end over end as their frightful Pilots garbled messages between each other. Far below a single message was sent from the Fang, ordered by Logan Grimnar himself it contained one word for the damaged fleet- Flee.

The damaged ships lay there for several hours, not wanting to leave their beloved world to the skeletal hands of the Thousand Sons. The enemy fleet began to take position over the glowing world, transports detaching from their larger cousins, each one shaped like a giant green scarab, they contained hundreds of Cultists supported by Daemons and Thousand Sons themselves. The Space Wolves would fall it was decided.

The Space Wolves however would return, after they linked up with the bulk of the fleet several systems away from Fenris but that was a estimated three weeks away and Logan Grimnar himself did not believe they could hold out that long against the enemy. The Space Wolves had already moved hundreds of tribes into giant underground caverns, many of the men of these tribes had thrown away petty rivalries and taken up crude arms against the cultist armies now landing. Thousands were slaughtered.


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Its a good story and interesting but its not as flowing or fluid as your normal writing.
Still its a good start
Is there more?


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## dark angel (Jun 11, 2008)

Thanks DB, I am afraid there is no more however perhaps if I get enough posts I shall continue with this


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## Deneris (Jul 23, 2008)

Sorry I missed this earlier- I always love me a good wolf thumpin' :victory:


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