The Space Marine reviewed his options as he strode over the dead at the base of the City of Might. With so few troops, he had no way of determining the enemy's strengths. Every last man had been needed to repulse the attacks; there were not enough to spare for a reconnaissance mission. Reinforcements were unlikely; no contact had been had with the main Dark Angels force in several days, and the Emperor's Light Chapter of Marines were not expected for three weeks. More Imperial Guard legions were due to arrive continuously in the days following the first landing, but they would no doubt have their hands full upon arrival. And Ezekial's detachment was a long way from the Guard's projected landing points. Sacrificing themselves uselessly against the waves of Eldar was unacceptable. The Emperor's reserves were vast, and to die in His service a great honor -- but to die in vain would cast yet more shame upon Ezekial, and upon his Chapter. Retreat was also unacceptable, although in this case there was nowhere to retreat to: the Eldar had them efficiently boxed in. No, the only alternatives available were to die, and take as many Eldar with them as possible, or to find an entrance inside the City of Might. From such a vantage point, Ezekial was confident they could fend off the hordes of aliens trying to bring them down. An explosion ten meters away signaled the end of their repreive. Through the dust and swirling smoke his armor's photovisors could make out the approach of the brightly-clad Eldar warriors. Grimly clutching their weapons, they stalked forward. They would soon in be range. His decision had been made for him. Part III "Warriors of the eternal Emperor!" he shouted, raising his red-stained chainsword high over his head. He was standing at the far end of their line, but each man was looking at him. "Today, many of your comrades have fallen! We shall remember; never forgive! We pray these aliens feel pain! Bless your weapons, and let them feel the righteous wrath of His vindication!" With one voice, the surviving troops sent forth a cheer, then sighted their guns at the approaching enemy. At the opposite end of the defenses, Vicconius lifted his Crozius Arcanum in salute to Ezekial. His words carried on the common frequency in the Marines' helmets: "A thin line confronts the foulest of enemies. Now the time of redemption is at hand. Our faith will be our shield!" Before many more moments passed, the main brunt of the Eldar attack had arrived. Shuriken stars hissed their vicious way at the defenders, slicing deeply into the sheltering walls and butresses. Armored chips from the City of Might splintered off, showering the humans with jagged fragments. Explosions filled the air, throwing smoke and debris in all directions, obscuring the Eldar advance. Such things were secondary, though, as each man leveled his weapon and let loose volley after volley at the revealed attackers. The approach to the City of Might had been cleared of most cover during the previous attacks, due mainly to the sheer volume of firepower being directed into and through it. Little remained now to hinder the Eldar as they crossed the killing ground, or to provide them any protection. The defending troops took as much advantage of that fact as they could, sending shots pouring through the smoke and haze stirred up by the explosions. But despite their best efforts the Eldar still continued to gain ground. This time it was obvious that they would not retreat so easily as they had before. Ezekial knew in the back of his mind that the Eldar were a small- numbered race; battle records of past conflicts between them and his Chapter revealed that they substituted speed for strength, and expertise for quantity. That they should now so readily sacrifice so many of their own kind to prevent the humans from taking Mraba IV was incomprehensible. Yet it was happening and the Sergeant could not deny the evidence of his own eyes. Only a few short minutes separated them from obliteration at the hands of these graceful and deadly aliens. This attack was more focused, more potent than any of their other attacks, and would soon swamp the desperate humans. Several unarmored Guardsmen had already fallen to the frightening accuracy of the Eldar guns, and the intensity was increasing. It was only a matter of time before even the Marines succumbed. Ezekial was mentally preparing to sell his life as dearly as possible, readying inspiring words on his men's behalf, when Vicconius let out a sudden exalted howl. Thinking him wounded, Ezekial threw himself towards his mentor, thundering down the defensive line. The sight that met his eyes, though, was not that of the Chaplain dead on the ground. He still stood, blazing fury at the enemy, but behind him yawned a vast black portal leading somewhere into the depths of the City of Might. At the same time, the Chaplain's victorius words rang out. "Look to the Emperor for salvation, and ye shall be answered!" he thundered. "By His grace, we have gained the higher ground, and shall yet prevail! The advantage is ours, and with it we shall smite our foes!" Ezekial did not stop to ponder how or why the portal had been opened; he accepted it at face value, and sent a silent prayer of thanks to his lord, the Emperor of Mankind. With urgent gestures, he began sending his men inside the building. "Brother Lucius, have your combat squad provide covering fire," he ordered. "Brother Baronus, you will assist the Imperial Guardsmen who remain! Move quickly now, the Emperor has provided for our salvation! We must not squander his faith in us!" Against a hail of incoming fire, the Marines quickly split up, one group planting feet firmly and letting loose with boltguns, the other herding and pushing the surviving Imperial troopers through the doorway. The Eldar, seeing their quarry escaping, let out a weird wailing roar and threw themselves forward in desperation. The last Guardsmen and Marines were dodging through the opening as the aliens closed in. Only seconds remained before their chance was gone. "Brother Lucius," Ezekial shouted, "position your men inside the door! Shut it when all are inside!" With one last shot, the Sergeant spun to meet the attackers. "Brother-Chaplain, let us show these abominations what men of the Imperium are made of!" Slinging his boltgun, he drew his bolt pistol and activated his chainsword. With a howl and a swing of his Crozius, Vicconius stepped next to Ezekial. In an instant they were surrounded by whirling mad dervishes whose multi- colored armor plating flashed and gleamed in their gunfire. It was apparent to the two veterans that the Eldar were almost as weakened as they were; these were not any of the numerous "specialist" warriors the Eldar used, but were instead common Guardians. Behind them, though, came many, many more of them, and while their abilities did not approach those of the Space Marines' they would eventually win with sheer numbers. Ezekial began to think they had emptied their entire Craftworld in order to attack Mraba IV, and surely it was rare for Eldar to outnumber anyone. But again, his eyes did not lie, and he was threatened with death from every direction. Under such conditions his self-doubt and shame receded, and pure killing instincts took over. Only the strongest and most ruthless of humans could become Space Marines, defenders of Humanity, and Ezekial and Vicconius were bastions of strength. With uncommon skill and grace for such heavily armored men, they ducked and dodged, parried and struck at their attackers. Ezekial's chainsword sang as it cut through Eldar bodies, its high-pitched buzz blending into the aliens' deathcries. Eldar blood spattered in all directions, coating the two Marines' armor, slicking it to a wet sheen. Parrying with his sword, he shot two aliens point-blank with his bolt pistol. Spinning, he met the next attacker, vicious whirring sword biting through limbs and weapons with equal ease. Vicconius' Crozius Arcanum hummed with power as he struck left and right, knocking Guardians aside effortlessly. Crackling with blue energy, it released its built-up charge upon contact, detonating open armor and body alike. Light pulsed from his Rosarius as it absorbed hits, its conversion field generator deflecting them into the visible spectrum. Both the Marines and the Eldar had eye protection, so no advantage was gained; it simply added its stroboscopic effect to the already tumultuous battle. Roaring with the exultation of death, whirling his winged symbol of office -- his representation of the Emperor he served -- he killed and killed. The initial number of attackers, maybe eight, were quickly dispatched by the Marines. In the short lull that followed they retreated closer to the doorway. "The Emperor favors us with slaughter this day, Ezekial," Vicconius crowed. Ezekial could not see inside the Chaplain's armor, but he knew from past experience that the older man was flushed with excitement and exertion. His own eyes glowed with the elation of destroying the Emperor's foes, and the knowledge of his righteous cause. With a last shot from his pistol, they entered the City of Might. Instantly the other Marines closed the portal. The controls seemed foreign and unfamiliar but apparently Lucius had divined them. He operated the glowing panel with ease. The door swung shut on silent hinges, sealing out the din of battle and screaming warriors with a hefty click. |
REDEMPTION By Kelly L'Roy |
TOMES OF VALOUR |
This item has been reproduced without the permission of the author. It's use here is not intended as a challenge to the original authors copyright and is reproduced here for the sole purpose of enhancing the Dark Angel spirrit and the warhammer 40,000 experience. Sadly all attempts at contacting the author have been unsuccessful and the original site where this was published no longer in existence. The story has been too invaluable to the DA community to be simply lost in the warp and therefre been reproduced here. If Kellt L'Roy happens to read these pages, please contact by email. |
