Captain Rexus, commander of the 3rd Company of the Imperial Dragons Chapter of the Legion Astartes, sat alone at the vox station. The glowing greenish vectors of the display were the only illumination in the dark and silent chamber. The reports from the Cemephon Theater were bleak. Xenos incursions were rapidly advancing on every front. Only New Boston had been secured thanks to the efforts of a certain shadowy Inquisitor. Captain Rexus flexed his fingers as if reaching for a weapon. Dealing with the Ordos always made him feel this way. They were a valuable asset, and yet, the price inevitably seemed too high... Despite this, the larger campaign was failing and the xenos were advancing with contemptuous ease. They struck where they wilt, driving the Imperials before them like cattle. This did not sit well with Captain Rexus. Although he was enroute back to his chapter command following a successful mission with only a remnant
force at his disposal, he saw the opportunity to strike the alien scum and give them a lesson in the steadfastness of the Imperium.
Yet, his force was weak. He had only three tactical squads at full strength. His own command squad was completely depleted and he would need to indoctrinate new members from the veterans at hand. However, he had one asset at his disposal at full strength, but which he was loath to commit – the Ancient Brothers. The Phalanx of Thermopile was a strike cruiser fitted for stealth operations. Her load-out bulk was significantly reduced to make way for fast engines and stealth capabilities. Consequently, she was outfitted to hold only a single space marine company. Captain Rexus was returning with significantly less than half of the company he had departed
with…
To be a Space Marine Captain was to be decisive. Captain Rexus saw the opportunity and he took it. Three of his ancient brothers were chosen and mated with the Ironclad Dreadnought chassis available. Captain Rexus stood in the Honored Chamber as they were each awoken in turn. The rectangular sarcophagi were strangely blank and anonymous considering the glorious heroes who resided within. Ancient brother Ulthus was the first to awake. Ulthus, the captain of the 7th company who lead the crusade against the Ork Waagh of Krull the Hammer on Julius Four nine centuries ago, was a notorious firebrand. The moment he had registered his surroundings, he has pacing about the chamber his heavy footfalls shaking the decking, his massive hydraulic limbs flexing with repressed violence…
Lucien the Lost was the next to awaken. He was slow to register his surroundings, his limbs moving sluggishly. Lucien was once a Techmarine, one who had served for over seventeen centuries; he was a literal archive of the chapter. Yet his mind seemed to be drifting, slow to grasp his current state… Rexus doubted his ability to serve and would send him in with the first wave to draw the fire of the enemy. Lastly, Bellus the Bellicose rose as if he had just woken form a short nap. He stomped around the chamber briefly, elbowing Lucien and Ulthus aside and making his way straight to the tactical display. In life, he was the leader of the Vanguard Assault squad of the 3rd Company for nearly three centuries. Rexus himself had been a member of his squad in his youth. Consequently, he knew to be sure so assign Bellus to the initial assault drop or there would be hell to pay…
The resulting battle was brief and brutal. As the thunderhawk pulled away, the xenos were in disarray. Captain Rexus stood upon the extended assault ramp and inhaled the smoke of the battlefield like the finest incense. Their losses were negligent. The sarcophagus of Lucien, who had so bravely initially assaulted the xenos, and whose dreadnought chassis was destroyed, was quickly recovered from the battlefield. Every other unit had sustained minimal casualties. They had captured two critical objectives, but in the larger scheme of things, it was merely the fact that the humans could strike at will with overwhelming force that mattered. From this day forward, the xenos would advance with caution, giving the Imperial forces critical time to retreat and consolidate.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Tales of the Rancid Blade: Part Thirty One: Deep in Tau space
Dry scrub lands were all about. A grand mound of tan earth dotted with brown and green scrubby plants rose before them. A vast blue sky was above with flecks of yellow clouds. A calm heat rose from the earth and its shimmer made the distances of seem farther. The broad scrubby rise was punctuated by blasts and explosions. The earth kicked up like water under pressure and blue fire rippled through the plants and sent rocks scattering. From Obolis’ stationary transport he watched the humans in full route. Their tracked vehicles were moving slowly backwards up the slope away from his position kicking earth and dust up from their tracks. As they moved away they occasionally fired light weapons to little effect. For a moment he observed one of the transports that had thrown a track. It’s bare wheels spun ineffectually casting earth and dry dust into the air while the remaining track bit into the earth and tilted the vehicle around. This only lasted for a moment before the vehicle was rendered apart by a shot from the Hammerheads along side him. His three heavy tanks, stationary, fired over and over at the retreating humans. Their massive cannons moved quietly, fired with a mechanical growl, and then repeated the process. The slope that was some distance off was quickly becoming a field of debris of wrecked vehicles.
Obolis sank back from the top hatch into the cabin of his skimmer. He stepped down from the portal and walked toward the drop down rear door past equipment racks and several seated Tau. A few of his officers were monitoring screens and checking read outs in the cabin. They seemed oblivious to the demonstration of the Tau heavy firepower outside. He walked out the back door. As he walked he wiped the sweat from his neck with a light blue cloth. The heat was impenetrable even to the Tau. As he left the back door of his transport he observed several other smooth bodied Devilfish cruise past his position.They were heading toward the last of the humans on the ridge line. One of the fish, a observation unit, slowed to a stop before him. It threw dust as it settled on the dry earth. It’s engines powered down. The side door flashed an energy pulse as it depressurised. The circular door opened and swung to one side. Sitting in the portal was Matuim. The two Tau greeted each other as old friends would with a brotherly but brief chin salute. The Water Caste stepped down from the door of the gunship wearing the fatigues of a Pathfinder. He carried his carbine slung over his shoulder and distance goggles atop his forehead. As Maturim approached Obolis the other pathfinders dismounted behind him.
“The tail end of the Hadras settlement?” enquired the Pathfinder of the retreating forces.
Obolis nodded. As he did a stray round from the human tanks impacted not twenty feet from the pair. It showered dry earth over the area. Most of the Pathfinders ignored the round, some ducked, Obolis didn’t flinch. “Your negotiations with this settlement failed also” the Fire Warrior said.
“Your brutal campaign has made it impossible for the me to convince these humans to concede. Sometimes Water can not flow where the Fire has been. It is too hot” Maturm shook his head in vague frustration.
“Perhaps you just don’t make a good argument countered Obolis”
“Perhaps” Maturm said “and what’s more likely is that the Imperials are gathering at Roths Head and these humans know they are about to be the beneficiaries of a counter attack. The main columns of Imperial Troops have pulled back all along this front. The locals are offering this weak counter attack to slow you down.” Obolis knew this to be true. The Imperials seemed to be fighting a long fight. They would hold a position until the last moment and then would fall back. They fought an effective rearguard maneuver with few troops and by the time it failed (which was occurring on the ridge before them), the main forces had regrouped. This had taken months and months and was wearing his forces down. Even though he gained ground it was though he were grinding into the sea. Another round flew overhead crashing some distance off. It made a screech as it flew past.
“What news from the Expansion” Obolis asked of the wider war.
“Well” his friend said “As you know the fleet has passed beyond this world and on to the Sphere. They look to the Human industrial worlds to conquer and provide munitions for the wider war. We are left here to rid this world of resistance”. Obolis new this well. As punishment for loosing New Boston, or at least not securing it well enough, he had been assigned to finish the job he hard started. He had been given supreme command of taking this world. This campaign would probably take years and all the while the vast Exploratator Armada was moving past this world and deep into Imperial space~ and glory. Anemos and the heathen Ethetrial had left this world and left it to him. Even if victory occurred here, it would be a long forgotten victory, a sub paragraph in the record of the Cemephon Sphere Expansion. He cursed as he thought of it. He was expected to forget the fact that this was one of the most well secured border worlds, forget the fact that it was Anemos that had agreed to bring the heathen kin to New Boston, and forget the fact that she had left him with a shadow of the forces that had once been here... And now he suffered on this lonely backwater world~ his only compensation to be a forgotten victory.
“The Imperial fleet has not been so easy to dispatch as those humans on the hill” Maturn said. “My reports tell me that the expansion is languishing. Things do not progress as the Etherial had predicted. It is as though some evil saps our youth. Ships have been lost to warp storms or blasted apart by the large guns of the Imperials.”
“We’ll they may be clumsy, but when they hit they hit hard.”
“They do”. The two Tau sat on the stop of the rear ramp of the Devilfish, now clearly relaxing.
“What of your networks? What do they tell of our campaign here?” asked Obolis.
“Well, there are some who believe that this world is already won.”
“What?” Obolis gestured toward the human tanks “The Imperials are still fighting”.
“Well, the Water Caste believes that were we to withdraw the humans on this world would look around and realize that they’re deep in Tau space.”
Obolis looked oddly at his friend.
“Look” said Maturm scratching his head and taking off his earpiece “The war is long gone. Our fleets have passed this world by and the real war is far off. You’re fighting a mopping up campaign. If you withdraw the Water Caste could start working with these humans and bring them into our greater good. Right now they fight you because you’re attacking them. If you withdraw they’ll realise that they’re so disconnected from the Imperium that they’ll have little choice but to work with us”.
Obolis breathed a sigh but with some optimism in his voice he said “and I’ll be reassigned to the front~ the actual front”.
“True enough” his friend said. “I think this battle is over. All it will take is for one side or the other to realise it.”
Obolis sank back from the top hatch into the cabin of his skimmer. He stepped down from the portal and walked toward the drop down rear door past equipment racks and several seated Tau. A few of his officers were monitoring screens and checking read outs in the cabin. They seemed oblivious to the demonstration of the Tau heavy firepower outside. He walked out the back door. As he walked he wiped the sweat from his neck with a light blue cloth. The heat was impenetrable even to the Tau. As he left the back door of his transport he observed several other smooth bodied Devilfish cruise past his position.They were heading toward the last of the humans on the ridge line. One of the fish, a observation unit, slowed to a stop before him. It threw dust as it settled on the dry earth. It’s engines powered down. The side door flashed an energy pulse as it depressurised. The circular door opened and swung to one side. Sitting in the portal was Matuim. The two Tau greeted each other as old friends would with a brotherly but brief chin salute. The Water Caste stepped down from the door of the gunship wearing the fatigues of a Pathfinder. He carried his carbine slung over his shoulder and distance goggles atop his forehead. As Maturim approached Obolis the other pathfinders dismounted behind him.
“The tail end of the Hadras settlement?” enquired the Pathfinder of the retreating forces.
Obolis nodded. As he did a stray round from the human tanks impacted not twenty feet from the pair. It showered dry earth over the area. Most of the Pathfinders ignored the round, some ducked, Obolis didn’t flinch. “Your negotiations with this settlement failed also” the Fire Warrior said.
“Your brutal campaign has made it impossible for the me to convince these humans to concede. Sometimes Water can not flow where the Fire has been. It is too hot” Maturm shook his head in vague frustration.
“Perhaps you just don’t make a good argument countered Obolis”
“Perhaps” Maturm said “and what’s more likely is that the Imperials are gathering at Roths Head and these humans know they are about to be the beneficiaries of a counter attack. The main columns of Imperial Troops have pulled back all along this front. The locals are offering this weak counter attack to slow you down.” Obolis knew this to be true. The Imperials seemed to be fighting a long fight. They would hold a position until the last moment and then would fall back. They fought an effective rearguard maneuver with few troops and by the time it failed (which was occurring on the ridge before them), the main forces had regrouped. This had taken months and months and was wearing his forces down. Even though he gained ground it was though he were grinding into the sea. Another round flew overhead crashing some distance off. It made a screech as it flew past.
“What news from the Expansion” Obolis asked of the wider war.
“Well” his friend said “As you know the fleet has passed beyond this world and on to the Sphere. They look to the Human industrial worlds to conquer and provide munitions for the wider war. We are left here to rid this world of resistance”. Obolis new this well. As punishment for loosing New Boston, or at least not securing it well enough, he had been assigned to finish the job he hard started. He had been given supreme command of taking this world. This campaign would probably take years and all the while the vast Exploratator Armada was moving past this world and deep into Imperial space~ and glory. Anemos and the heathen Ethetrial had left this world and left it to him. Even if victory occurred here, it would be a long forgotten victory, a sub paragraph in the record of the Cemephon Sphere Expansion. He cursed as he thought of it. He was expected to forget the fact that this was one of the most well secured border worlds, forget the fact that it was Anemos that had agreed to bring the heathen kin to New Boston, and forget the fact that she had left him with a shadow of the forces that had once been here... And now he suffered on this lonely backwater world~ his only compensation to be a forgotten victory.
“The Imperial fleet has not been so easy to dispatch as those humans on the hill” Maturn said. “My reports tell me that the expansion is languishing. Things do not progress as the Etherial had predicted. It is as though some evil saps our youth. Ships have been lost to warp storms or blasted apart by the large guns of the Imperials.”
“We’ll they may be clumsy, but when they hit they hit hard.”
“They do”. The two Tau sat on the stop of the rear ramp of the Devilfish, now clearly relaxing.
“What of your networks? What do they tell of our campaign here?” asked Obolis.
“Well, there are some who believe that this world is already won.”
“What?” Obolis gestured toward the human tanks “The Imperials are still fighting”.
“Well, the Water Caste believes that were we to withdraw the humans on this world would look around and realize that they’re deep in Tau space.”
Obolis looked oddly at his friend.
“Look” said Maturm scratching his head and taking off his earpiece “The war is long gone. Our fleets have passed this world by and the real war is far off. You’re fighting a mopping up campaign. If you withdraw the Water Caste could start working with these humans and bring them into our greater good. Right now they fight you because you’re attacking them. If you withdraw they’ll realise that they’re so disconnected from the Imperium that they’ll have little choice but to work with us”.
Obolis breathed a sigh but with some optimism in his voice he said “and I’ll be reassigned to the front~ the actual front”.
“True enough” his friend said. “I think this battle is over. All it will take is for one side or the other to realise it.”
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