The roaring sound inside the Drop Pod threatened to batter the ears into oblivion but the auto sense of the Marines helmets stifled the assault of sound. Centurion Romulus shuddered about in his harness, his power armour juddering under the strain of the orbital descent. Harnessed opposite him was Gerhet, clenching and unclenching the deactivated power claw he wore. Romulus blinked and in perfect unison with his thoughts, his visor flashed through several different displays of information settling on the life signs of the squad he shared the transport with. Each one a Veteran marine of the Company, having survived from their creation centuries ago by cutting a bloody path through the galaxy with utter ruthlessness. They carried the most ancient and revered battle gear and their armour was also of ancient design, kept in as pristine a condition as possible with what little access the 3rd Crusade had to the Mechanicum. There was something in his own bio-signs read out that caused him to scrutinise it, an odd jump and tick in his brain waves. He focussed on it more intently, trying to judge what it was. He also noticed a tiny, slight deregulation in the tattoo of his twin hearts which caused a moment of tightness within his chest. Taking a deep breath and reciting age old instructions to himself he calmed his beating hearts as the rest of his mind focused on the thought pattern that evaded him.
++Five minutes Brothers!++
Gerhets voice speared through the sound of the Pod, filling his helmet from the padded speakers either side of his ears. It was then that Romulus isolated the thought pattern and realized what he felt and why it was so odd. He felt nervous. Upon reflection he understood this momentary intrusion of feeling and then crushed it under the iron will of his indoctrinated mind. He was new to his command. The 3rd Crusade had its command element ripped out of it several months prior to his installation in a battle that cost the Macharian Crusade a notable set back. Romulus had been transferred from his veteran positions in the 6th Crusade by Chapter Command and given control of an entire Battle Crusade to push into this fresh new war. He knew he was command material, but even so, the prospect of leading these Marines into battle for the first time was altogether exciting and thrilling, especially against those they considered brothers. The normally well kept composure of Romulus cracked with a smile as he switched his information readout back to that of his squad, this should be interesting.
It was nearly time.
++Somebody wake up Haephestan.++
The downward thrusters fired on the underside of the first set of pods, allowing the transports to slam into the ground just shy of turning their occupants into mulch. The staggered pattern allowed one in three pods to be filled with bristling weapons, their firing paths not intersecting any of the transports harboring Marines. Firing bolts exploded, sending the vast doors of the pods slamming into the ground, crushing curious rebel guard who strayed too close to the hissing vehicles. Giant, multi-barrelled cannons began to rotate at a frightening rate, the whir of noise causing those not crushed to flee in terror. The assault cannons opened fire, stitching a blaze of explosive fire into the mass of the enemy. Bodies were popped, shredded and shorn apart by the vicious guns. Several of the hulking Space Marines of the Star Phantoms were scythed down among the horde of dead men.
Then the first transport bearing troops dropped its assault ramps and its occupants charged forth with a snarl upon their lips. Prefect Callisto punched the activation stud on his chest, igniting the twin turbines upon his back. He ascended on streamers of fire, as the rest of his squad followed. The roar of his jump pack was joined by the fierce whine of his chainsword as he revved it into action. He lowered his Bolter before him and unloaded the weapons contents into the mass of men below, blowing heads and arms from bodies. The Teeth of Vengeance smashed home into the enemy and began to cleave about them with screaming chain weapons and crackling power blades. Each Marine adorned with the heads of particularly honoured foes, trinkets and talismans taken from conquests. The most fearsome aspect of these grim warriors though, was the vicious snarling mouths painted up the sides of their corvus pattern helms. Saw edged teeth dripping with blood greeted each enemy as they died under the cold glare of the black visor lenses.
Callisto pulled his chainsword back, ripping the guts out of a wailing rebel. He fired point black into the chest of another as a mob rushed him and then proceeded to back hand his gun into the face of the nearest foe. Teeth crunched and the man's jaw shattered as Callisto fire his jump pack again. The Teeth sprinted among the vast horde of enemy fighters, adding to the carnage before rising like angels into the air on contrails of fire. They dropped down into the mob at random, creating as much havoc and confusion as they possibly could while their Sergeant sought his primary target.
Romulus disengaged the harness holding him to the power station he was hooked into. He ran through his suits protocols one last time as the ribbed metal cables snapped away from his mobile power pack between his shoulders. He steadied himself, the pod had crashed its way into a make shift gun position, flattening the bunker beneath it. He shared a glance with Gerhet and nodded. The assault ramps fired their bolts and were sent hurtling downwards into the rubble. Remus sprung into action and the sound of armoured feet rang off the ramps.
He ordered his suits internal systems to activate and he felt the whir of servos as his auto senses adjusted into programmed patterns. A cross hair formed on his visor, flickering and highlighting objects and strewn rubble in a white kill zone. He rounded the transport and saw men picking themselves up from the ground. A rebel cradled his limp and shattered arm to his chest as he caught sight of the giant yellow Space Marine. The rebel was out lined with a white silhouette as the cross hair turned red, Romulus squeezed the trigger and his weapon did the rest of the work. It bucked in his hands as it sent a bolt round streaking through the air to explode the highlighted rebel. The silhouette faded to black with a chime as the cross hair acquired another target.
The gigantic assault pod sat in a crater of blood and body parts, hissing as it cooled. The rebel sergeant had heard the screaming through the vox unit on the operators back and would be prepared for the Space Marines when they came rushing out. He nodded to the man knelt before him, the large tube of grey metal resting upon his shoulder.
"Be ready to fire at the bastards as soon as that thing opens, they won't know what hit them!"
The assault ramp fired its bolts and the vast door swung downwards to crash into the lake of offal below. A wave of gore filled water sprayed upwards and the guardsman fired the missile launcher. The tiny warhead spiralled forward through the sheet of smoke rolling across the battlefield and detonated inside the pod. The Sergeant pumped his fist into the air and whooped. A whine filled the air, rising to a pitch that caused the ears to bleed. The Sergeant clutched at his head before his face formed a rictus of fear. The rebel with the missile launcher and the Sergeant were vaporized to nothing by a shimmering beam of heat that scorched the ground into a bubbling mess. Giant foot falls punched craters into the blood encrusted mud as the Mantle of Hate stamped forward on its massive pistons. The vast multi-melta fixed upon its right side spooled up its firing motor again as the Dreadnought cut a path of nuclear death through a mob of rebels running to intercept the Centurion. The living weapon lurched forward as a screeching chain blade bit into its gun arm. Servos whirred as the vehicle spun on its central axis to bring its full armament to bear on the Star Phantom who foolishly struck it.
The whirring assault claw on its left side clamped shut on the Marines midriff, crushing into the ceramite casing and splintering the metal into the Marines innards. A gurgling roar bubbled from the brass rimmed vox grille as the Mantle of Hate squeezed the Marines innards out through its mouth. The Mantle released the pulped foe, letting it splash to the ground. The Dreadnoughts multiple sensor arrays triangulated the Centurions position and the giant machine thundered its way into the swarm of rebels.
Callisto rammed his Bolter into the magnetic holster strapped to his armoured thigh as he roared down through the clouds. He braced himself, impacting on the top of the battle tank below him. He gripped the turret as the vast cannon swung about to target the Dreadnought cutting into the horde. He slung his chainblade and reached behind him to disengage the mag-locks on the melta device. The sound of metal rung out into the battle as he slammed the breaching charge onto the side of the Leman Russ. He spun the timer dial and punched his jump pack into life, kicking off from the tank he soared out into the air. The tanks commander decided to switch target at the last second to teach this Space Marine who landed in his firing line a lesson, the turret grinding down in preparation of obliterating the enemy. The explosion was immense, peppering Callisto with debris. He rolled his shoulders and laughed into his visor as the smoking remains of the tank cooked off in secondary detonations.
A bolt round exploded against his shoulder guard, tearing a great crater into the ceramite layers. He spun round with the force of the shot and grimaced as five hulking bone white Marines lumbered through the smoke of the battlefield, firing from the hip at him. Bolt rounds detonated, sending chunks of earth scattering as he roared into the air on pillars of fire.
From his elevated position he surveyed the battle field, his eidetic memory absorbing all the tactical information afforded him. He saw one of the Teeth go down under a hail of gunfire, his jet pack causing him to spiral uncontrollably into a mob of guardsmen, exploding in a ball of incandescent fire. Callisto spotted the Hydra flak gun thundering shells across the sky and narrowed his eyes behind his visor. He primed another melta charge and clutched it in his hand before streaking forwards for a taste of vengeance.
Welcome to the plog I have created detailing the creation, expansion and evolution that my 40k army of Marines Malevolent has undergone.
For those of you new to this blog, I hope you enjoy the following pages and come with me on my journey from this...
Trample the dead, hurdle the weak. Glory & Hate.
Edited by Brother Tyrax, 13 July 2015 - 12:13 AM.