thanks man! I just got a bunch of hobby supplies so I'm getting ready to start some painting soon. With the completion of the below content I'll have 500pts ready for color.
++Marinus Status Malus++
Port Taurus was fun he supposed. It was a break from pig-scalping on the Ullanor border, which was refreshing after six solar simulations of picket. If he was being honest with the Emperor though, he would admit he would have preferred to be chasing the Black Sun. Knife-Ears were always a challenge he relished. The Green-Scrunt got predictable after a time and it simply became work. He could settle for rebellion. His environment ping returned two scan codes that dated roughly four millenia and he was fast approaching his target at break neck speed.
++ On left.++
The world exploded beside Corporal Svetska as the Astartes slammed into the ramshackle barricade beside her. Debris rained down and her eyes burned against the dust wafting in waves down the causeway; the siege of Port Taurus had stretched into a three month engagement before the Excommunicate arrived in the Malagant system. What started as a rebel pacification operation quickly became a hubris war for the Tauran Irregulars which would eventually see the planet burn. Her heart rate rocketed and the sound of her own blood roared like a primal drum in her head. Her throat was so dry her spittle was bloody. The fingers of her left hand squeezed her lasgun over and over as the fingers of her right hand dug around in the satchel for another battery pack. She would have been more surprised at the sudden appearance of this demi-god but she had been fighting against the other ones for seven days and four nights. Today would be the eighth. She wasn't scared. She was tired.
"They're coming again."
The words rasped from her lips, half a whisper, half a croak. The behemoth in chipped yellow and black war plate beside her turned the onyx black lenses of his helmet in her direction. The grimacing grille vented a jet of vapor waste and the faint green cycling of target runes washed those lenses from inside with a sickening glow. The slam and click of the monstrous rocket gun in his hands echoed down the line. She caught the glint of eyes behind that crystalline glass. Possibly blue.
The rolling dust cloud parted as if sliced in two by monsters clad in starlight. Apparating in the negative space carved from the mist came a duo of cruel mirror images. Hulks clad in iridescent teal came on silently, cutting a path like sharks through the shoal. The mass of flesh on either side of them stabbed beams of light and autogun fire in the direction of the barricade. Snaps and cracks filled the air as the traitor Astartes glided through the no man's land of Cross-Union Highway Nine. A sea of renegade faces tattooed with heresy and conviction framed these insidiosa as they drew carbon coated blades that seemed to absorb light. There were two of them and only one of the loyalists. Their operation would continue without issue.
A fraction of a second before the Astartes opened fire, Svetska squeezed the trigger on her over primed lasgun. This did not escape his notice.
Bodies exploded in controlled blossoms as the mass reactive shells stitched through the horde advancing on their position. Several other soldiers of the Irregulars began to fire with their Corporal. Beams of light punched holes through their one time kin, splitting the air with a horrible shriek. The two instigators responded in kind with blasts from their bolt pistols which caused a hail of razor sharp debris to stab out across the barricade.
The Status Malus frater keyed his auto-senses on the left target and squeezed off a three round burst. Miss. Hit. Miss. He squeezed again. Miss. Miss. Miss. He snarled to himself, his upper lip pushing against the wetness of his gums. Again. MISS. MISS. HIT.
The helmet caved under the eruptions from the fraters Godwyn and showered the second opponent with gore. The two Astartes locked eyes and the legionaire nodded.
Svetska watched as faster than she could have believed the enemy set upon them. She felt as if she was hauling through sludge. Her laser shots snapped lines across the brutes shimmering armor, scouring deep lines in the ancient ceramite. The sun sheathed Astartes to the left rose up, feet crunching into the concrete of the barricade and carrying it up and into the air. Shots rang out from his bolt weapon that cut the atmosphere like the tolling of bells.
She saw the nemesis collide and continued to fire into the melee as both combatants tried to overcome the other. Almost too late she threw herself aside as they crashed down into the trench line behind the barricade. The bolt rifle clattered away from the brawl, spinning end over end into the smog. The yellow Astartes was ontop of the other driving his left fist at the head whilst the right reached for the pistol at his hip. The instigator drove a knee into the power-pack worn by the Emperor's chosen that sent him sprawling forward, costing him the chance to draw his sidearm and fire.
The enemy was suddenly upon their feet, a movement so fluid it was unnatural. The helmet raised upwards ever so slightly. Distain. The muzzle jumped as the bolt pistol barked two rounds into the exposed back of the allied Astartes. Svetska growled low and made sure the crimson visor of the legionaire was firmly between her sights before she unleashed a torrent of energy. The bayonet weighed the front end just enough that the shots hit the cheek plate instead.
Snap, snap, snap.
The instigator turned in her direction. A move that proved to be a mistake as the world turned upside down for him. The grunt that escaped the enemy was out of place with such a menacing figure. Sent to the ground by a burst of bolter fire the giant crashed backwards into the trench, pistol sent careening over head. Svetksa hadn't stopped firing. She even dared to take two steps forward. She wanted this thing dead.
The Status Malus leapt upon his prey with a combination of thunderous punches. As he clenched the enemy helmet between his hands and propelled a knee into it, a bright wash of sticky wet blood oozed from the ruined midsection of his torso. Exposed cabling sparked and pulped flesh vomited fluid against the scorched armor. She
Svetska saw the gleam of bone. Her lasgun whined out and a hiss of exhaustion ended the cherry glow on the muzzle. She began to reload as the rest of her rag-tag squad fired into the now routing rebels.
The chosen managed to pull his side arm and bring it to bear just as the diamond edged tip of the traitors blade slipped into his eagle crested chest and twisted forty five degrees to the right. The squeal of parting ceramite cut into Svetska as she stared in horror at her immediate future, her fingers fumbling for another power-pack. She didn't find one. They closed around something else.
The krak grenade bounced between the two titans and detonated with enough force to slam the Astartes backwards, his war plate pinwheeled into the concrete. It sent the other sliding backwards to crash into the barricade, it's faceplate a smoking ruin. Svetska hauled herself over the rubble and smacked her knees into the side of the Astartes. Bright red mixed with charred flesh, shards of yellow and black armour sawed into mesh and skin. The angelus mortis tried to sit up but a coughing fit saw it ease back down into the chunks of road and building. Svetska could hear warning chimes whispering from inside the helmet and a red light kept blinking, highlighting one blood shot eye over and over. It was blue. She was right.
"I'm s-sorry, I thou-- he--"
The world turned dark as the smoking silhouette of the legionaire blocked out the sun. The air fell silent for a moment and the electrical hum of an energy field washed static against the hairs on her neck. She blinked. This is it. The last thing she would remember would be the name, designation number, and genetic sequence runeform stamped into the gorget of her defender in high gothic.
Callan -- CIII/MMFT/TONEG
She went momentarily blind as blood slapped her in the back of the head and a chunk of ceramite slashed her shoulder guard. The pain brought her senses back into focus and she sucked in a ragged breath, her wild eyes turning from the Astartes below her to the collapsing one above. The ground bounced her as the dead operative slammed into the ground, battle plate inert except for a single finger twitch. The smoking bolt pistol clattered from yellow clad fingers, followed by words hissed through clenched teeth.
++No apologize for His work. Get helmet clasp. Down two lungs. Others here soon. ++
She nodded half in shock and grabbed at the lever under the rim of his helmet. She hauled at it with her finger tips, breaking one of her finger nails. With a shudder it snapped open and an pressure hiss wafted ice cold air as it vented the atmosphere inside his suit. She studied the miosis in those blood shot blue eyes and noted the symmetrical and disproportionately wide bruised cheeks of this colossus below her; he had several small tear drop electoo's beneath a metal rimmed eye socket. He sucked in another breath and she could almost hear it wheezing out of him involuntarily. When he spoke she could see silver capped teeth stained with clotted blood.
"I will expire. If that happens pre-regroup...take bucket and defend. Hand off to Status Malus. Data imperative to war effort."
He tapped the helmet with one finger and took one more sucking breath. Svetska knew these trans-humans didn't speak the way she did, the way everyone else did. It wasn't the wounds he had sustained or a language barrier, as she understood it they just simply didn't speak information they deemed useless. She froze as another hulking sunburst yellow Astartes strode into view, assault bolter scanning left and right. It barked two shots that screamed into the distance before ending with muffled crumps. The giant came to a stop beside her fallen ally and as it studied the fallen brother, it chuckled low, the sound menacing the air between them. This one also had high gothic runes.
Reiner -- CV/MMFT/TOPOS
++Cutlass five to Cutlass one. Cee-Three need evac. Vitals crit. ++
The one on the ground, Callan, squinted those blood shot eyes and grinned a wicked smile with those blood stained silver teeth. The standing one, Reiner cast his glance over the battleground and pointed in the direction of the two dispatched traitors.
++Cal, this make forty-five, neg?++
The seemingly mortally wounded warrior on the ground nodded once and closed his right fist tight, thumb stuck up towards the sky. This incredibly human gesture shocked Svetska almost as much as having to fight beside and against them. Everything about them was as alien to her as the things that dwell in the dark of space. They are not human.
++Cee-One ammend alert for medevac. Send a brain-box. Cal gets his Mantle.++
Svetska stood from her kneeling position and observed the giant sprawled at her feet. He pumped his fist in two short victory motions and laid back against the rubble, with a shaky exhale he closed his eyes.
"Reform line Tauran. Take back your home. "
Started work on a rather beefy chap. Got the legs posed plus the base started on. Complete with some Star Phantoms where they rightfully belong. ATE Callan
interred within the TDC "Mantle of Malice"
ATE--//--Armor Tactical Enforcer
TDC--//--Tactical Dreadnought Chassis
Edited by NomadPainting, 06 May 2021 - 08:19 AM.