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Book 1 - The Defense of Firebase 342
Chapter 1 - Any Ork in a Storm
Brother Shaw and Sergeant Harper stood together on the makeshift LZ, an icy patch that had been marked with a large red x. Fires were blazing at the four corners of the crude mark – this certainly was not up to imperial codex standards but Inquisitor Magnus had been quite specific in his instructions.
"If you ask me, he’s gone off. Snapped, he has. Terrible shame."
"No one’s asking you, are they now, Shaw?" barked the Sergeant.
"It’s the shock. He’s not like us. He’s not a Marine. Who knows where they get blokes for the Adeptus Inquisitori – nutters, the lot of them." Brother Shaw made busy, cleaning his bolter under the harsh glare of his Sergeant. "We lost a whole company in this battle. Our Brothers, they were; and we aren't crackin' up. But we’re the Chosen Men, aren’t we? The Emperor’s Light! We’ll fight on – to the last man if we have to; because it’s what we do. It’s who we are. We don’t know how to lose. We don’t break. But him..."
"And you better shut your bloody mouth right now before a commissar comes along; then I’d have to make a show of it; I’ll make you do penance – "
"Aw sarge – "
"Shut it! No more talkin’ rubbish about Ol’ Maggy. He’s not one of us, no, but he’s one of the good ones. You saw him back there when we took down those buggers. I’d fight alongside the likes of him in a second, and you would too if you knew what you were on about."
Brother Shaw’s head tilted back and he hissed softly through his teeth. Harper knew his men, and he knew that Shaw was headstrong and independent – a common trait in the Draconian Legion. That tenacity would serve the Emperor well in the fight that lay ahead, but more often then not caused trouble when the guns were silent. Harper would have his hands full keeping his squad out of trouble with all these Guard Officers and Commissars about, not to mention the Eldar. It was strange to be in close quarters with aliens without killing them, yet there they were. Sometimes they seemed still as the stars, yet when they moved, it was like watching water flow over rocks – so graceful, so natural, so... inhuman.
Harper would have slit their throats, orders or no orders had it not been for the fact that these orders came from Magnus. The man had a way about him. He spoke from a deep place in his mind, a well of wisdom. He was certainly touched by grace of some kind; this was the light in a galaxy of darkness. This was what the Draconian Legionnaires were created to serve and protect; the righteousness of humanity.
Harper was drawn from his contemplation by a change in Shaw’s breathing. He sensed his battle-brother’s tension, knew that something had alerted him before Shaw even knew himself. This is what it was to be a Sergeant of Space Marines. A leader of superhuman warriors, living with them, training them, meditating with them, sparring with them, watching them grow, watching them die in battle – knowing them more completely than anyone can know anyone else; every sense heightened, every reaction trained, every gene focused one goal – victory.
Shaw opened his mouth to speak, but Harper had already followed his gaze and turned to see what it was. Up, high in the stratosphere, less than a speck was moving. No normal person would be able to see it; even with binoculars, it would have appeared to be nothing – a bird perhaps, maybe some dust on the lens. But to the eyes of a Marine, its distinctive heat signature, rate of descent and density revealed its true nature. It was a landing craft, and it was headed straight for them.
Shaw squinted as he reassembled his weapon. "Necromundan?"
"Nah." Said the Sergeant. "Even more crude. And the way she’s coming in – too reckless for any imperial pilot. It’s a miracle the thing is holding together at all - "
Harper’s voice trailed off as a look of shock crossed his face. The rest of his squad, sensing trouble had assembled on the LZ, weapons at the ready. He turned to face them and they knew that they were about to go to battle. Harper’s skin was flushing red, his eyes becoming glazed as his genetically engineered adrenal glands activated, his extra lungs started pumping, delivering more oxygen to his steroid-enhanced muscles.
"It’s Orks! Incoming Red Seven – Def Con Omega Nine Twenty!"
Instantly the Marines fanned out and took cover in an icy crevasse. Bolters were loaded and cocked, and all eyes were on the growing speck in the sky. Harper noted that Shaw was silent now, preparing himself to do battle. A sound came from behind; as one, the Marines popped up, weapons all aimed at the vital organs of Inquisitor Magnus.
Harper bellowed, "Stand down men! Return to Nine Twenty!"
Magnus raised his hands. "Sergeant listen."
"Greenskins sir! Raise the alarm! We’ll hold them up here as long as we can!"
"I’m not raising any alarm, Harper."
"Excellent, sir. We could use you here - "
"Yes, you can but we’re not fighting anyone."
"It’s not orks, sir?" Harper gazed at the Inquisitor. The man knew something about this ship and he needed to find out what it was.
Magnus looked embarrassed. "We’ve been so busy making preparations that I haven’t had a chance to brief you, Sergeant. They’re reinforcements. Mercenaries."
"Mercenaries? Beg pardon Inquisitor, but we don’t need that scum!"
"Ork mercenaries, Sergeant, and yes, we do."
A hot wind was rising as the landing shuttle’s retros ignited. High groan of metal fatigue could be heard rising over the roar of the ship’s engines. Billowing clouds of stinking green pollution engulfed the landing zone.
"Lord Inquisitor!"
Brother Shaw was sprinting toward Magnus full tilt. Before anyone could react, he had tackled the Inquisitor, breaking two of his ribs and throwing him to the ground seven feet away.
Harper was furious. "Shaw!", he bellowed.
But he was interrupted by a deafening crash. A large piece of the ork craft had broken off and smashed into the ground where the Inquisitor had been standing a moment ago. Magnus got to his feet.
"Many thanks, I - "
Harper cut him off. "Not now M’Lord. Run!"
The landing ship was listing badly, and has started a slow spiral. It was obvious to all that this was not so much a landing as a controlled crash and the humans fled the LZ (CZ?) to watch from a safe distance. Once atop an icy ridge they stared in disbelief as the Ork landing ship staggered, bounced and rolled into position over the red x. Chunks of machinery and metal plating were sloughing off of the ship and peppering the area with debris. It resembled an enormous drunken flying turtle, with gouts of flames issuing from various retros as the pilot attempted to position it above the LZ.
Shaw snickered. Harper was incensed "Something funny, Shaw?"
Brother Shaw pointed to one of the holes that had opened up in the side of the shuttle. Magnus squinted and saw that there was a figure leaning out, looking down. He appeared to be signaling to the pilot.
"The navigational instrument bundle must have been damaged." remarked Shaw.
Magnus chuckled. "I believe that is the navigational instrument bundle."
The ship was shuddering violently as the pilot was jerking it back and forth according to the conflicting opinions of dozens of orks, all hanging out of the sides, trying to get the ship into position. There was a squeal as a small figure, presumably a grot, fell through one of the open spaces in the ship’s rusty framework. He landed in the green and black scorched snow, and now was running back and forth in a blind panic, trying to get out from under the ship. The Orks, who had been arguing before, now chanted instructions in unison as they tried to land the ship on top of the terrified gretchin.
Shaw was disgusted. "Those bastards..."
Harper growled. "Easy, Shaw."
Suddenly Inquisitor Magnus shouted in a gutteral, alien tounge. "Oi! Gobbo! I iz da big SkumNob! Lug it over ‘ere yew naffin’ zogger!"
The gretchin was snapped out of his panic by Magnus’ command, and he turned and started to run straight towards the humans. The orks laughed uproariously as the pilot started to turn the ship to give chase, causing several of their comrades to tumble out onto the ground. Suddenly there was a small explosion somewhere towards the back of the ship, and broken hoses started flying madly about, spraying steam all over. The ship lost power, and thundered to the ground, sending snow and debris into the air and squashing the unfortunate orks that had fallen.
Harper’s jaw clenched. "That’s done it." He looked down at the gretchin cowering behind Magnus’ legs. "We’ll be in for a fight now." He made ready to give the attack command, but before he could, crude laughter erupted from the ork ship. "At ease, brothers."
"They think it’s funny! It’s all a big joke to them; killing their own mates. The sick bastards!" Shaw stood up and slung his weapon over his shoulder.
Harper shot a sidelong look at the Inquisitor. "So, you speak orkish do you M’Lord?"
"There are times when Emperor’s voice requires an alien tongue." Magnus lifted the grethcin by the scruff of his neck and stared into his scrawny face. "I iz SkumBoss Magnaz. Wutz yew called?"
The grot was shaking like an insect in a web. "M – Maggit..."
"Iz da Grodd on da ‘ulk?"
"...oh yes, yes Master Magnaz, yes. Moondog haz many many lotz of big meganobz, kanz, an’ shooty shooty slugga boyz... all come for to fight da Bugeyez and get da Emperor’s Teef. Y – yes, kind master Magnaz saves little Maggit..."
Magnus gently put the wretched creature down. It was obvious that the gretchin was unaccustomed to being handled without being hit or kicked, for he looked up at the Inquisitor with an expression of utter amazement.
"...Master Magnaz is my new master...yes?"
Magnus sighed and looked over at the landing ship. The orks had piled out and were milling about, gathering into rough units. One large ork seemed to be directing things, shouting at the rest. He had a close-fitting suit of armour, crude by imperial standards, but expensive and well-made for an ork. It had been painted blue, and affixed to his back was a tall pole, topped with a metal moon figure that bore an evil grinning face. This was the Grodd, Warboss Moondog, leader of these orks.
"Harper, bring your squad."
Harper snarled. "But M’Lord, it’s bad enough that we’re tolerating them at all – now we’re s’pozed to go down an’ shake their bloody hands!"
The Inquisitor suddenly became deadly serious. "Sergeant; You will do as you are ordered! Firebase 342 must hold at any cost. You know as well as I that we do not have enough troops. You know that it is better to die with dignity than to live in shame, but worse still is to die in shame!"
The marines were suddenly at their sergeant’s back, glaring at the Inquisitor. Harper spoke carefully, concealing his rage from his troops. "If you speak to the Adeptus Astartes of shame, you had best come to your point quickly, M’Lord."
Now it was Magnus who grew angry, but he did not conceal it. He roared at Harper and backhanded him with an armoured fist across the face. The marine sergeant took a step back, but did not buckle. Instead he leaned forward and spat a bloody tooth into his palm. These were stubborn men, the Emperor’s Finest. They must be made to understand, now before the coming storm engulfed them. Magnus took the tooth from him and spoke very slowly.
"You are the Emperor’s Light. You protect the innocent. You serve the righteous. You slay the wicked. You serve His will without question. You value your honour and the honour of your Chapter above all else, for it is the honour of the Emperor Himself."
Nods from the Marines. He was reaching them.
"What honour is there in fighting this greenskin scum? What good will this serve? If we survive, we will be even weaker when the Tyrannids attack."
"We are not afraid to die for our Emperor!"
Magnus punched Shaw in the face. Blood trickled from his nose. "Yet if you die there will be no one to defend this base, and Janus IV will fall! And if Janus IV falls, many other systems will follow. There are no other reinforcements that will reach us in time! You will die when I order you to, and not before! Do you understand me, Brothers?"
"Yes M’Lord, sir!"
"If Janus IV falls to the Tyrannids, then that shame will be on your heads, and a stain on the honour of your Chapter. You will fight alongside whatever galactic mercenary scum I tell you to. Do you understand me, Brothers?"
"Yes M’Lord, sir!"
"Now Sergeant. Bring your squad; and watch my back. These greenskins are right proper bastards."
"Yes, M’Lord. Legionnaires! Fall in! Yellow Delta Seven! Keep your eyes peeled!"
Magnus turned from the marines and strode towards the assembled orks. He felt his ribs twinge; pain shooting through his chest. (That Shaw was a raging bull!) He could not show any weakness in front of the orks. The only thing they respected was strength. That was why he had to make a show of things with the marines. He just had to pray to the Emperor that the marines’ discipline was stronger than their zeal.
End of Chapter 1
by Dylan - April 25, 2001
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