Current time: 11-25-2024, 01:13 AM
In Nomine Imperator
WH40k fic. Marines vs Orks. Any takers?
#1
Disclaimer - If i owned the Warhammer universe itself, do you think i'd content myself with writing fanfiction?


IN NOMINE IMPERATOR


“… And those dedicated to the Emperor’s work will be beset upon all sides by enemies. Be vigilant for they are everywhere and you may depend on none but your brothers in arms to carry out His blessed work.”
- Roboute Guilliman, Codex Astartes


The Agri-World of Endra, in the Londenium system, Segmentum Ultima


On the eve of battle, the Wolves were drunk… again.

“I wish I were anywhere rather than here” Brother-Sergeant Marius of the Dark Angels Chapter muttered darkly. One glance at the aquila on his chest armor and he immediately regretted it. The words he had spoken were disturbingly close to blasphemy as he had ever come to in his decades-long career as a Space Marine of the Adeptus Astartes.

To serve for the Emperor of mankind, for the glory of one's chapter - that was the most a man could ask for. For Marius, the honor was greater, for he was one of the Angels of Death, a Space Marine, one of the Emperor’s chosen. To exist purely for the purpose of serving the savior of mankind and protecting humanity - that eclipsed all the hardships that they were called upon to face.

A loud yell pulled him from his reverie. A chorus of loud yells to be exact.

Marius sighed. All hardships, he reminded himself.

Beside him, Brother-Captain Dominius, an intimidating figure in his Terminator armor leaned close. "With any luck, brother, they'll drink themselves to death before the night is out," he growled, his voice not even betraying a single hint of humor.

Marius allowed himself a brief smile. Dominius made no attempt to keep his comment within the small group of dark-green armored figures that were sitting together at the edge of the camp. It was clear that, despite the wild shouts and yells coming from around the large fire, the drunkards that were the Space Marines of the Space Wolves Chapter had heard.

Ever since the Third Company of the Dark Angels had been called upon to battle beside a Great Company of Space Wolves against a warband of Bad Moon Orks that had somehow made it to the lush world of Endra, tensions between the two detachments had run high. The enmity between the two Chapters that began with their respective Primarchs, Leman Russ and Lion El’Jonson ten thousand years ago, still existed up to this day.

Things had not begun well. Not at all.

In the first engagement against the foul greenskins several days ago, the Angels had refused to charge, as the rabid beasts the Wolves called the Blood Claws had done, straight into the guns of the enemy, choosing instead to pin the green scum down with sustained bolter fire and wait for the approaching heavy support of the Long Fangs.

The arrogant Wolves had then branded the laconic Angels as cowards for refusing to move. When Dominius had pointed out that only five out of the twenty Marine Initiates that had charged had survived, Brother Gunnar of the Gray Hunters shot back that their Marines weren’t afraid of making the ultimate sacrifice.

At this, brother Castor had lost his temper and had pronounced the entire Space Wolves chapter as one populated by slavering dogs, incapable of rational thought and thus not worthy of serving the Almighty Emperor. The situation might have escalated then, had not the Wolf Lord Grenald Shadowfang stepped in to stop his subordinates from launching a full-scale attack on the Dark Angels’ command bunker. Thankfully for the Imperium, Shadowfang's interjection was characteristically forceful, with at least three Blood Claws leaving the scene in the arms of a servitor heading for their Apothecarion.

Even with that matter resolved, the Space Wolves' thirst for retribution had not been quenched, not in the slightest.

If the sons of the Lion had any illusions otherwise about the situation, they were made brutally aware of their error the following morning. Upon entering the driver's compartment of his Predator, Brother Boreas had been greeted by the skinned carcass of a boar that the Wolves had hunted, slain and then placed in the tank. The swine's blood had spilled over the entire compartment, desecrating the war machine’s systems and rendering it unusable for the remainder of the day, as Brother-Techmarine Gideon re-sanctified the vehicle. Insult had been added to injury that evening when the Dark Angels' chaplains attempted to lead their brothers in evening prayers, the Space Wolves had chosen the most impractical time test their bikes in a circuit, a circuit that frequently brought the riders into the clearing that the Dark Angels had cut out of the forest.

That was until a squad from the Ravenwing had arrived...

Marius smiled again, nobody out rode the Ravenwing. He turned his attention back to the Space Wolves before them. The sons of Leman Russ had pulled another barrel of ale from the back of a Rhino transport nearby and were busy sharing it amongst themselves.

They had been like this since returning from a successful encounter earlier, and their behavior was beginning to gall the Dark Angels. A member of Shadowfang’s Wolf Guard stumbled over to them, a tankard in his hands and his Terminator armor already reeking of alcohol.

"Here, brothers!" Haldane roared, "Drink with us!"

Dominius took the tankard from him and eyed the foamy mead spilling over the side with distaste. The weakness that these Space Marines were now showing was appaling. To think that a servant of the God-Emperor would ever think of drinking while doing their duty…

Dominius shuddered.

"I am afraid that we must decline, Brother Haldane," the Terminator replied, "The Emperor rewards greatly those with the strength of will to abstain from the sins of humanity."

Haldane, either ignorant or unconcerned by the insult, looked at him as if he first believed that the Dark Angel was joking, but Dominius' stern gaze was enough to convince him otherwise. Turning, he called to the other Space Wolves, "Brothers! The Wingless Angels are too scared to drink as well!"

The Space Wolves howled with laughter. Dominius rose slowly, "Brother Haldane, your drink," he said politely. As the Wolf turned and reached for the tankard, the Angel struck him full in the face with one armored fist. The Marine dropped to the ground like a stone, sprawled on his face while he tried to gather his wits.

Dominius spat at the Wolf’s prone figure, "Like father, like son." He growled.

Outraged at this slur against their Primarch, the Space Wolves reached for their weapons. Marius stood, dimly aware that the other Dark Angels around him had done the same. A red-haired Blood Claw, gripping his chainsword in one hand, was approaching their position, his temper obviously as fiery as his unruly mane. It appeared that he had drunk too much even for a Space Marine enhanced physiology, and was visibly shaking with anger. Dominius stepped forward to meet him, having had enough. The Blood Claw, swaying with the effects of alcohol, brought himself up to his full height, trying to make himself larger than the huge Terminator. Dominius glowered down at him, "Speak up, Wolf." he said, his voice dangerously low.

The camp had become silent. Only the crackling of the Space Wolves' fire served to break the stillness. The Blood Claw looked the Dark Angel in the eye. "For Russ!" he suddenly yelled, and swung the chainsword at Dominius. The terminator stepped calmly backwards and took the blow on his left arm. The whirring blade deflected harmlessly off the mighty ceramite plates and the jarring impact sent it spinning out of the Space Wolf's hand. Less than a heartbeat later, Dominius lashed out with his foot, catching the younger Marine full in the chest. As the Blood Claw recoiled backwards, the Terminator shoulder-charged him, sending him reeling off-balance into his brothers.

It was as if the signal for a general melee was given silently. The Space Wolves howled in anger, and leapt at Dominius. The other Dark Angels moved to his aid. Marius lashed out at a Space Wolf’s armor while Boreas grappled with one of the Blood Claws.

The cries and howls of the furious Space Wolves were met with resolute silence from the Dark Angels, who fought with their customary determination and implacable demeanor. Brother Marine fought against Brother Marine in a wild brawl that was almost but not quite as savage as had occurred more than ten thousand years ago during Horus’s rebellion. It seemed as if both sides were evenly matched although Dominius knew that if pushed too far, the Wolves would lapse into a berserker rage that would prove lethal for the Angels. He knew that the situation had to be resolved quickly. As Marius advanced on a Gray hunter, who had hoisted the now-unconscious Brother Boreas onto his shoulders in an effort to hurl the Dark Angel into a nearby tree, a Ravenwing biker sped into the camp. The Marine started yelling as he skidded to a halt in front of the brawling Marines. "Brothers!" he shouted, "The Orks are here!"

To a man, the combatants ceased the battle. "What?" roared Haldane, "How did they get past the scouts?"

The Ravenwing Marine, a little hesitantly, turned to Haldane, "The fiends had mined under our front lines and they caught us unprepared. We split up to avoid being caught in the cross fire and have returned to the command compound." The Dark Angel turned back to Dominius, more at ease with his own kind than a Space Wolf who currently appeared to have reverted to his feral roots. "Brother Dominius, Master Romanus is assembling our men at the compound. You are to join him as soon as possible."

Dominius move as started sizing up the situation. "Syriel!" he yelled to another Terminator, "Bring me more ammo." He stopped, surveying the scene. "Marius," he spoke rather more quietly, "Have someone retrieve Boreas and revive him, then ready your blade." The Space Wolves too forgot the conflict and took up arms.

A minute later later, as Syriel was returning, the Orks attacked. A volley of frag missiles lanced overhead, exploding into a patch of foliage behind the Marines, and shells began to chew up the earth. Swiftly the Marines moved into what little cover was available and returned fire. Marius dived into cover besides Dominius, Syriel and Haldane. "They must have sent a force to bypass the compound," Haldane growled, loading his storm bolter and scanning the edge of the forest for the enemy.

Dominius surveyed the tree line, storm bolter clutched in one hand while the other was covered by the crackling energies of a power fist. "There!" he said. "They come." The body of Orks that approached was small, but they were supported by a crude dreadnought. Haldane and two Gray Hunters sent a short burst into the aliens, but the majority was shielded by the bulk of the machine.

Dominius looked at Syriel. "We must assault the xenos scum," he said, "We don't have the firepower here to take down the dreadnought from a distance yet. Haldane," he turned to the Wolf guard, "Will your men support us?"

"I'm surprised they haven't charged already!” Haldane laughed, “They will follow our lead, but will yours?"

Dominius gave him a grim smile,”Our brothers will do what is required."

“Good, the Long Fangs should be on their way,” the gray-haired Wolf Guard said after consulting his auspex. “We just need to hold on long enough.”

“That will not be a problem at all.” replied Dominius, flexing the fingers of his power fist.

Haldane hoisted his storm bolter, "Then let us bring death to the enemies of Him on Terra!" Taking a deep breath, he broke cover as he roared his battle cry, charging the Orks, knowing that his brother Marines, all sons of the Emperor, were doing so as well. “In the name of the Emperor, advance!”

From either side the Dark Angels and Space Wolves emerged following their commanders' lead, bolters blazing, bringing the hammer of war upon their foes. The Orks, unable to resist the thrill of close combat, piled forwards beside the dreadnought. Haldane drew first blood, his power fist crushing the skull of an Ork warrior and his storm bolter perforating another of the green-skinned xenos. Marius was close behind, his power sword slicing cleanly through the crude armor of his opponents. The Angel stepped back, an orkish axe passing through the space he was standing in a nanosecond earlier before he closed in, skewering the creature's chest before shoving his boltgun in the wielder’s face and pulling the trigger.

Dominius, ducking the axe of a Goff, shouted above the din, "Marius, Syriel! That war machine’s getting a little too close!"

The mek was steadily rumbling forward, autocannons mounted on its side spitting death in all directions. A number of Marines went down as multiple shells buried themselves in their armor. It wouldn’t be long before it was upon the Astartes, where it could then bring its close-combat weapons to bear. “What do you want us to do with it?” Marius voxed.

“Whatever you want, just keep it occupied.” Dominius answered back as he planted his power fist on his attacker’s torso and squeezed. He was rewarded with an miniature explosion of green ichor. “Anything, surprise me.”

Marius was perplexed. The hulking Terminator was not known for his sense of humor. Nevertheless he gave his acknowledgement as he started moving in the mek’s direction. Syriel broke from cover as well, moving steadily forward as his assault cannon whirred, sending a hail of large caliber rounds into any ork obstructing his path. Marius advanced with him, power sword humming as he cut down any greenskin that Syriel might have overlooked. Behind them, the other Marines laid down a punishing curtain of fire that tore apart any target in their path.

As the pair reached the dreadnought, they found themselves fighting alongside a squad of frenzied Blood Claws. The machine's power claws had already knocked one of the Space Wolves to the ground, his armor rent in several places, and the remaining Blood Claws were struggling to keep it at bay. Syriel took cover behind a felled tree and opened up with his assault cannon while Marius moved in to assist the young Wolves. The Dark Angel moved swiftly, tapping the grenade dispenser on his belt, allowing several micro-grenades to drop into his hand as he dodged the awkward movements of the Ork machine. As he searched for a weak spot in its armor, the fiery-tempered Blood Claw that had challenged Dominius earlier joined the combat. The warrior lashed out with his chainsword, severing a hydraulic cable and causing sparks to fly from the dreadnought's armor.

The machine swung around faster than would have seemed possible and struck the Space Wolf to the ground. The young marine struggled to stand, blood leaking from his left leg but collapsed, unable to move. Marius knew that the mek would crush the Marine within a few heartbeats if he didn’t act quickly. He was just about to move in when a familiar voice came in through the command channel.

“Brother,” Dominius’s voice crackled, “Hit the ground.”

A staccato sequence of howls resonated from the brawl behind them, signifying the arrival of the Long Fangs. Marius immediately dropped on his stomach as a pair of krak missiles screamed from behind him, shrieking through the air and impacting on the dreadnought’s flank, severely damaging but not outright killing the haphazardly-constructed monstrosity. Knowing that he had been bought a few precious seconds, Marius raced forward and hauled the Blood Claw to his feet. As the Dreadnought moved to crush them, the Dark Angel hurled his grenades into the machine's crew compartment and flung himself to the ground atop the wounded Space Wolf.

A sequence of explosions shook the earth. Debris was flung outwards as the detonating grenades tore the dreadnought apart in an impressive pyrotechnic display. Something heavy glanced off Marius's shoulder pad and spun away, and was followed by the patter of shattered metal dropping back down from the sky all over the forest around them. As the noise died down, all that could be heard was the cacophony of plasma burst, bolter fire and other Imperial weapons as the Orks realized that their heavy support had been taken out, scattered groups fleeing back into the forest.

“Well done, Brother-Sergeant, you can consider me surprised.” Dominius voxed, faint tones of approval underscoring his words. “Head back to camp when you’re done there.

“Understood.” Marius voxed back.

Marius regained his feet and examined the Blood Claw's injury. The marine's armor had been crushed, trapping his leg inside, but he would live. The Space Wolf opened his gray eyes and met Marius’s ice-blue ones.

"Fortune smiles upon you, brother," Marius observed as Syriel joined them and hauled the young Wolf to his feet, "You haven’t lost your leg." The marine managed a smile of gratitude.

“What is your name, brother?” Syriel asked.

“I am called Rolfi by my brethren.” The Wolf answered.

“Let us be off then, Brother Rolfi,” Marius snorted as he looped an arm under the Blood Claw’s shoulder, with Syriel taking the other side. “Perhaps we can get to the one of your Wolf Priests before the others do.

All around them, Wolves and Angels were assisting their wounded brethren as they moved back to camp. As the two Dark Angels helped the wounded Space Wolf to the Apothecarion, Marius smiled. Any hardship he could endure, even this one.

After all, they were still brother Space Marines, still sons of the Emperor.


FIN



AUTHOR'S NOTES

Two years...

Two effing years...

Two effing inactive years...

Yep, that's how long it's been since i last wrote something. Yeah, yeah, i know that i still have a whole bunch of fics left unfinished. They're all in a folder labeled "Complete us, you fool!" but i thought i'd try doing a test run to see if i could still put together random words and come out with anything remotely resembling a fic.

Even though i'm too much of a tightwad to actually try the hobby out (with the exception of a few Astartes miniatures), Warhammer 40k been a huge fascination for me ever since the turn of the century. With the tabletop game itself being way too pricey, i content myself with the books from the Black Library. After a couple dozen or so novels, the idea for a fic began bouncing around my head but i never actually put that idea to paper (or keyboard, for the matter) until now.

So there you have it folks. First fic that i've written in over a couple of years with the mayhem of the far future and it's warmongering denizens as its focus. Like it, loathe it or do you think that my fingers ought to be cut off and my eyes stuck with flaming pencils for writing such offensive drivel. A few comments at the usual place would be well appreciated.
"May those who accept their fate find happiness. May those who defy their fate find glory."
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In Nomine Imperator - by Fox - 06-28-2009, 04:21 PM

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