# Andronis Final Stand



## Sartas (Apr 5, 2009)

This my first written story about my Night Fists (minus the Chapter History) which I posting on here.

Be kind =)

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Planet: Arcadia VI
Status: Lost
Cause: Ork Invasion
Solution: Evacuation
Military Components: 3 Tarnis Imperial Guard Armoured Regiments, Adeptus Astartes Chapter Night Fists.


The Green tide smashed itself against the city walls, slowly, but surely, overrunning the defences as they climbed their piled dead, eager to close with the defenders. Within three hours of the assault, only a few isolated pockets of Imperials remained. The city’s Plasma Generators were held by the last remnants of the Tarnis 39th Armoured Regiment, who readied the Generators to blow with a dead man switch. The Industrial Sector was under a series of street battles, where the remainder of the Tarnis 65th and Tarnis 104th Armoured Regiments fought defiantly to stem the ork advance. And the Space Port, held by the survivors of Squad Andronis, of the Adeptus Astartes Night Fists Chapter. A small three out of ten Marines remained.

“I want your men to return to the _Night Spirt_ now Brother-Sergeant!” exclaimed Chapter Master Hardan

“I can’t Chapter Master, should we leave now, the civilians who remain will be butchered by the orks, with only one approach, I know we can hold until the civilians are evacuated,” said Sergeant Andronis.

“I’m sending a Thunderhawk to pull you out once the civilians have been evacuated. It can give close air support at least.”

“Yes Chapter Master, Andronis out,”

Hardan knew that Andronis had simply said that to keep from arguing, the stubborn Sergeant never retreated, and had never given the orks a single look at his back. Then again, Andronis was the only member of the Night Fists, in their entire history, to have the Title of Defeater of Death. In Andronis thirty eight years of Service, he had seven supposed “Last Stands” and each one, he proved his mettle through surviving through hells untold. He faced down an entire Genestealer Swarm, with only a Bolt Pistol and his Power Sword, he wasted an ork Warboss and his Nobz, and the list continued through Chaos Marines and Tau.

Andronis rechecked his bolt pistol, ensuring he had a full clip, and he activated his power sword, feeling the weapon hum gently. He looked across the single bridge in which the orks could use to reach the Space Port. Already, the hastily built barricade was being passed, as the orks clambered over it. This was what Andronis wanted, it would slow the ork advance as they fought one another in their eagerness to climb over and reach the Marines.

“Brother Natus, we’ll keep them off of you, you pick them off as we hold them, Brother Gartho, ready to butcher in the name of the Emperor?” said Andronis, his voice coming machine-like through the voice grill.

“As always, Brother Sergeant, I see there’s plenty to go around,” said Gartho, his chainsword roaring into life.

Natus didn’t respond, his helmet damaged from an ork powerclaw, costing Natus an eye. The left lens was cracked, and completely black instead of the Night Fists usual red. Natus kneeled, his bolter pressed against his shoulder, his good lens staring down the sights.

“For the Emperor! For Rogal Dorn! For the Imperium of Man!” shouted Andronis as he charged forward.

Sharp bangs echoed behind him, as Natus picked his targets, and downed them with well-placed head shots. The orks carried all kinds of weapons, from cleavers and axes to clubs and pikes, with little or no ranged weaponry at all. Green bodies fell one after the other as Natus fired single shot at the spread out orks. Within three seconds, Andronis was driving his power sword through the neck muscles of a muscular monstrosity. As Gartho caved in the skull of another ork with a viscous headbutt. Before the two bodies even fell, they were against the orks again, Gartho shoving the pike of the ork down and away from himself as Andronis placed two rounds through the beast’s head. Natus downed the ork in front of Andronis as it raised its heavy cleaver, the beast falling head of heels as its momentum carried it.

“The Emperor demands you die beasts! Come and do as He wills!” shouted Garthos, his chainsword hewing through the chest of an ork Nob.

It was as Andronis slashed the chest of an ork open causing it to spin around into Andronis’ arms that he saw too many orks were closing on them, but a sudden pressure against his chestplate brought his mind back to the fight. And ork pike had pushed through the ork and against his chest, denting, but not penetrating the armour. Gartho put a round through the pike-wielding ork’s eye. Wretching the pike through the ork completely, Andronis launched it back into the orks, impaling two with it.

The smoke coming from the city caused momentary loss of sight for the Thunderhawk pilots, but the clear signals of the three Marines came through to guide the Thunderhawk towards them. As the machine tore through the smoke, the two pilots saw the horde trying to claim the bridge. And the images were passed back through to the Chapter Master. Passing over the heads of the greenskins, the Thunderhawk banked hard to come back from the Space Port. As they passed over the three Night Fists, the weaponry of the Gunship opened up, high calibre rounds punching through the orks as the Gunship strafed the Bridge. Large holes were opened up in the ground as the rounds punched clear through the orks, and slammed into the ground. Limbs were separated, bodies were pulverised, and a small cloud appeared, as the heavy cannon fired on a dense group of the orks. Broken bodies were flung through the air.

“Praise the Emperor, that should thin the orks out at least!” said Andronis.

The gaps between each ork was becoming wider, and the orks seemed to become disheartened by the sudden deduction in size of the horde. The Gunship banked to strafe the Bridge again, and the orks turned to flee from the deadly sky machine. More weapons fire rained from the sky, claiming many more lives as the Bridge was strafed again and again.


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## MyI)arkness (Jun 8, 2008)

Dying orks! Thats always fun to read : P


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## deathbringer (Feb 19, 2009)

Good stuff
Hope to hear more


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## Sartas (Apr 5, 2009)

“Brother Sergeant! All civilians have boarded the final transport! We’re coming in to pick you up!” came a voice through Andronis’ inter-suit vox.

“Roger that! Make it snappy Brothers!” answered Andronis cleaving an ork in half.

The Thunderhawk swiftly came in, hovering a meter off the ground, its guns tearing chunks out of the ground. Natus was the first aboard, struggling as a hail of rounds struck him, taking his left arm and right fist away in a shower of blood. A bestial roar erupted from the barricade, and Andronis watched as the ork warlord rose up over it, his heavy weapon casting shot after shot towards the Marines.

“Gartho! Your chainsword if you please!” said Andronis, dropping his empty bolt pistol.

The purring weapon was swiftly handed over, as Gartho saw what Andronis was about to do. With a nod, and a slap on the shoulder guard, Gartho ran towards the injured Natus, whose armour was battered and torn in multiple places. As Gartho lifted his wounded Brother into the Thunderhawk, Andronis switched through the files in his power armour.

“We are the Chosen Ones! We sacrifice our blood!” boomed his vox system.

“WWWAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!” roared the warlord, his heavy armour seemingly light-weight.

“We kill for Honour!” continued the vox system, the ancient song had long been in Andronis’ memory since before his induction to the Night Fists. “We are the Holy Ones, our armour stained with blood!”

Andronis charged towards the Warlord, the roaring chainsword in one hand, his power sword in the other, as the ground was chewed up by the weapon in the warlord’s arm. Garthos watched as his Sergeant raced towards the giant of a beast, Natus, long passed out from blood loss was tended to by an Apothecary.

“We killed the dragon. In glory we return, our destination's end. We slay the dragon! No more living in fear it's time to raise our king. We made it happen we're the chosen ones!” came the song of Andronis.

When Andronis and the warlord met, it was a clash of epic proportions. The chainsword chewed hungrily into the armoured shoulder of the beast, while the powerclaw scraped through Andronis’ left arm with ease. Grunting in pain, Andronis slammed his armoured face into the beasts’ own face, breaking the red iron jaw in place there. The force of the slam had broken Andronis’ helmet completely, the lens cracking as the ceremite crumbled under the strain.

Leaping backwards, Andronis tore the ruined helmet free, still holding the chainsword high. The ruin of his left arm bleeding profusely, while his enhanced system struggled to stem the blood loss. His vision blurred as he charged forward once more, the ork ripping the broken red jaw from its face, roaring with anger. The claw came up far quicker than Andronis could believe, connecting with his chest, breaking and tearing through the chestplate. Andronis was lifted into the air, flying towards the ground, his body broken. The giant ork stood over Andronis, savouring the victory over the Sergeant.

“I am a Chosen One beast! And even death won’t take that from me!” spat Andronis, defiantly.

A sudden crash caused the creature to look around quizzing. A Drop Pod had landed nearby, the hatches blowing open to show a squad of Veteran Terminators. The Assault Cannon roared into life, tearing chunks of flesh and armour from the beast, followed by Storm Bolter rounds, puffs of red mists erupted as the shots found their flesh. The beast toppled slowly, as the weight of fire eventually ended the beast’s life.

“Get him to the Thunderhawk Tarno, we’ll cover you and join with you shortly!” said the white helmed Terminator.

“Yes Brother Sergeant!” said one of the Terminators, gripping Andronis’ shoulder with his Power Fist.

Being dragged, Andronis held tightly to the chainsword, his armour had locked down after being ruptured so badly. Within moments, Andronis had been placed on the Thunderhawk, a long blood trail showing how far he’d been taken. The Apothecary worked quickly, putting numerous chemicals into the struggling system of Andronis. The last thing Andronis saw, was the white helmed Apothecary struggling with him chestplate, the expressionless face couldn’t hide the fury at losing a patient.



“Andronis? Can you hear me?” came a voice.

The voice was familiar, but distant. Why was everything black?

“Andronis? Speak you hulk of muscle!” demanded the voice.

“I can hear you.” His voice had changed, it was more metallic, far more deeper.

“Well its about time, Calder and Gailet were worried about you not actually waking up,” said the voice.

“Well if you let me see something, I would!” snapped Andronis.

A thin green line appeared, which expanded to show the Chapter Master himself standing before him, flanked by the Chief Apothecary and the Master of the Forge. He couldn’t move his arms, or anything, he was frozen in place.

“Why can I not see with my own eyes?” he asked.

“Because Brother, you were dying, but we preserved you long enough to fit you in a Dreadnought body, we were worried we were too late though,” said the Master of the Forge.

“Dreadnought? I guess I didn’t win against that ork?” he said now hearing the pistons hissing as he leaned forward.

“Squad Randros arrived in time to kill the beast, and hold the orks long enough to ensure the civilians had evacuated and extracted on the same Thunderhawk as you,” explained Hardan.

He had failed, he had failed to join his Brothers once again, seemingly the Emperor held a different purpose for him. When that purpose arrived, Andronis eagerly awaited it.

“What can this ton of scrap do then? I have no weapons as far as I can tell, and I’m wondering if I have legs……” he said.


Tell me what you think of it =)


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