Grum's Guns- Wolves of Horus.

[commisarblur]

Sargent Arloo Grum of Catachan hated riding in Chimeras. Inside he felt like screaming and scratching out his eyeballs. The walls always seem to close around him tightly and it didn't help that he shared this uncomfortable space with nine other troopers. He is a jungle fighter; a hunter who best worked out in an open environment.

He held up a pretty solid outside persona to the lads. Stubborn, hard edged, full of bullocks. Sitting cross armed and leaning against the rear hatch, his eyes squinted at each face. Lean, grizzled faces; Survivors of innumerous campaigns now. They kept their focus on prepping for that big fight. Paxx said slient prayers. Blacktooth double checked his las. Lars would glance at readouts from the display on the intervox. Triggs and Vinny shared dirty jokes.

Grum peeked into his Cameo storm coat and checked the power settings on both Lucy and Ethel. Plasmas were fickle things. The absolute power of a mini sun in one's own palms and at any given time they could go nuclear without warning. Most wouldn't bother to go near one after losing a hand; yet Arloo insisted on getting a pair after his bionics graft. These sisters had some bite but they were his girls and his job to keep safe.

A jolt is felt in the tight dark cabin lit only by red combat lighting. Outside there's sounds of pops against the hall. Arloo hears the engines rev up and feels the armored can accelerate. He can do nothing really but bite his lip and grunt. His stomach wanted to escape from his flesh just as badly as he wanted out. The whole squad did. The itch for action. The life of the imperial guard.

Numerous voices flowed out of the vox at the front of the chimera.

'Contacts 2 o'clock. Heavy bolter fire. Making evasive maneuvers.'

'...Weapons hot! Firing multi...'

'...I'm hit!! Terminators! 9 o'clock!! Where did they come fro-'

The Chimera jolts again and all motion falls into a stale. The squad braces. Arloo planted his palm to his mouth to keep from chucking. He pretends he just checking his wrist chronometer when the squad level's out. Next he hears whirring from the outside. He secretly prays it being a chainfest of the archenemy trying to cut in. An excuse to break out the girls and shoot something. He really wanted out of this prison.

Then the air changed. The seals to the main door released and hydraulics were prepping to pop open this little world.

'< Melta hit the port treds. Popping the hatch! Emperor Protects!>' boomed the driver's voice from the vox. There was a hint of panic there but he wasn't Grum's concern.

The squad rose as the first rays of murky light crept through the mawing hatch. Booming sounds of bolter fire were calling to the men. Arloo glanced back one last time to each face. Vinny, Triggs, Paxx, Blacktooth, Vork, Lars, Sonny, Tali, and Salv; The silverbacks. Vets of Catachan 2220 "Hell monkeys". The last ghosts walking.

In each hand rested the girls. Lucy in the right. Ethel resting in the left. The stage was before them; War torn ruins, mud filled craters, thundering troop carriers rolling on past, hot las fire raining over head. Arloo grinned like a happy kitty as he charged out, shouting:
"Time to Die like Guardsmen Fellas!"

[commisarblur]

Shells rained down around the silverbacks. Blackened dirt clouds rouse almost as high as the ruins of the city. The vets leaped out of the rear hatch of the Chimera and proceeded to loop around to the starboard side of the transport. Grum was in front of the squad, back against the plated hull with both Lucy and Ethel. On his immediate left was Blacktooth, handling a meltagun and chewing on some tobacco.

"Feeling better?"

"Will be when I get to shoot something." replied Grum as he tried to glance around the corner. Shrapnel from bolter fire glanced off the hall, causing the sarge to duck back. He swore a little before pocketing Lucy under his left pit and taking out a little stick mirror. A simple little trinket he picked and fashioned together but it often saved him a lot of grief. The mirrored vision gave away shots fired from a depilated street corner. He could almost spot the glow red eyes of the traitorous Astarte from within.

Next Grum looked for some available cover to advance. Out here they would be too primed a target. He scanned wide and ruled out most of the unearthed craters. Part of him wished for a row of thick trees right about now.

A shell explodes five meters from their position. Dirt washes down on all the men. Vork coughs a little bit of it up and whines. Vinny wipes his eyes clean of the gunk. Tali curses at the archenemy under her breath.

"Would love to have me an Aegis right about now." Commented Blacktooth as he spat out his chew.

"Stop whining trooper, that's what Vork is for," replied Grum before pointing out a store front that looked like it was robbed eight times since morning. "Hostiles off the Chimera's 3o'clock! Vinny, Salv, Your on cover fire! Tali and Paxx go first, Vork and Sonny second, Blacktooth and Triggs, Lars with me. Get that Rocket ready when I arrive! BREAK TIME!!"

Vinny and Salv scooted up next to the sarge, Lasrifles primed and in ready position. Grum counted down from three using only his fingers.

"COVER FIRE!!"

Lucy and Ethel hummed out two bright burning streams of plasma with a chorus of hot Laser fire. The red eyes of the enemy disappeared briefly from the glowing streams. A eerie shriek is echoed out from the ruin which made Grum smile inside at his two girls.

Meanwhile Tali and Paxx sprinted like the warp was chasing them. Trooper Paxx sung out the imperial Hymn of protection like never before as he slide into the shop's now openly doorway. He then bunkered down behind a display case. Tali was already setting up the stand for the Launcher.

"You have the ammo?" Tali asked.

"What?"

"Just making sure we're not repeating Bash'sha again..."

Paxx unstrapped his pack and showed the fellow trooper the assorted cache of missiles."Are you going to hold that out on me ever time we're assigned HWD?"

Tali rolled her eyes. She didn't have time to argue.

The traitors didn't wait long to respond unkind. Massive bolts shredded into that corner of the Chimera. Grum tapped his foot to the sound waiting for the reload pause. Then Lucy and Ethel made a comeback which only seem to melt some of the remaining corner.

"ThronethronethronethronethronethroneIhatethisplanenthtronethronethronethronefeththronefeththrone..." whizzed out of Vork's mouth as he double timed with meltagun in hand.

"Shut up and Run you fat ogre's baby!" shouted Sonny from right behind him.

Both men made it in though Sonny slide sideways inside. Tali readied the launcher on her right shoulder as Paxx finished loading the missile.

"Weapon hot!" Paxx then took out his binoculars to do his next act of spotting. Tali close one of her blue eyes as she squinted past the dust kick up from the shelling.

Blacktooth looked at Grum in the eyes after a shell explodes three meters from their position. He nodded and then so did Grum. Both men then adjusted their caps.

"COVER FIRE!!" Called out Grum as he, Vinny, and Salv gave a volley back to the archenemy. Blacktooth ran next to Triggs on his left. A lone bolter flew inches in front Blacktooth's face and made Trigg's head explode like a cantaloupe. His limp corpse skidded a couple of feet in the wet mudded street. Blacktooth just kept running to safety as Trigg's blood dripped down his face.

"I'm counting three heat signatures, two behind the south wall facing us. The third resting east," spoke Tali.

"Confirm, hold fire till all clear." replied Paxx.

Outside the bolters seemed to not rest. Vinny was already starting to reload a clip as Grum glanced at both girls coolant levels. Lars cradled the meltagun in his arms, like it was his only child.

Arloo looked at the weapon for a moment and then at the trooper. "Switch positions with me."

"Sir?"

"Do it."

Both men flip flopped, A shell hit one of the ruins behind the damaged Chimera. The cracking sound of Las fire is heard deep in the background.

Grum tapped his ear bug in his right canal. "Tali do you have targets?"

"<Confirmed sir, waiting for your dirty arse self to arrive.>"

"Change of plans, trooper, Bring it down on my signal," Grum then looked to trooper Lars. "After she hits it, wait for something dreadful to appear out of that place and nuke back to the Eye. On Three."

Lars replied with a salute and then turned to ready his shot.
"One, Two, THREE! FRY IT!" Shouted Grum over the background shelling.

A screaming bat out from hell launched from Tali's shoulder and flew with a streaming smoke tail. The blast vaporized a window and part of the southern wall. Large amounts of gas reverberated out from the structure. Lars peered from the corner and waited for his nightmares to show. Only one did.

The traitor stood two meters tall, fully enclosed in black power suit armor that was decorated with the unholy markings of daemonworship. It's helm was shaped like a wolf's head and the Eye of Horus stared out from its' breastplate like it was looking for victims. Before this moment Lars had never frozen in combat, he was a dedicated solider to the Emperor's cause and a strong warrior of proud Catachan decent. He survived against the deadliest predators his planet was known for since he could walk. Yet he never saw a member of the infamous Black legion this close before and perhaps that caused him to hesitate.

Meeting eye to red eye snapped him back and both sworn enemies fired at one another. Lars got caught in his upper left arm as the atomizing burst hit the traitor in the torso.

The legionnaire fell to its knees but it did not die from its mortal wound. It tried to fire another shot when Vinny unloaded a couple of Las shots into the Astarte's head. Then he cautiously waited for another rush out in surprise. When it did Vinny, along with hot kisses from Lucy and Ethel, downed it without a second thought. Salv lifted Lars over the shoulder just as another shell missed them overhead. The quartet rushed onward to the shop keep and layed Lars in the back room to address his wounds.

Blacktooth walked up to Grum with a fresh chew in his mouth. "Okay, Easy part is done. Now what?"

Grum wasn't sure what to say when the howl of terror echoed outside.

[commisarblur]

Paxx, Grum, Blacktooth and Vinny rushed up to the windowless opening of the store front just as the second howl echoed down the dusty street. A strange chill could be felt to their bones even though the air wasn't cold. Grum snapped his fingers at Paxx and within the very next second was handed the binoculars.

Two hundred clicks to the west large, ravenous beasts charged down the street, decorated in the golden corrupting runes of the four chaos god. Their gaping maws coated in blood. Fur black as night.

Upon their hides rode the wolves of Horus; Vengeful zealots ultimately loyal to the memory of their Primach as they seek to rain death upon the loyalist scum in their unholy quest of redemption and revenge. Eagerly they cleaved their power axes into the backsides of fleeing troopers from the 501st Vulplue knights. They howled and laughed from their wolf shaped helms in the slaughter of the heavy shock troopers. The beast mounts snarled and snapped with their massive jaws; One couldn't tell which was the more animal.

Silently the four Catachans crept back into the shop. Paxx almost tripped on a can of beans in the process. They joined their comrades in the storage bay where Salv guarded the loading dock, Tali on the back exit. Sonny was doing the best he could on Lars' shoulder. The trooper squirmed and sweated despite the painkillers.

"Is he stable to move?" asked the grizzled sargent.

"I've stopped the arterial bleeding for now but we'll need to evac him back to the line sir," Sonny stripped and drop his surgical gloves on the ground. "I'm no medic; I don't know how long my stitching will last."

"Can he still fire his weapon?"

Sonny gave a moment in his head. "If he has it prompted first. Like a stand or a wall. But I gave him painkillers so knows how accureate his aim will be."

Blacktooth whispered to Grum's left ear. "We still have two meltas left plus the missile launcher; If we make a stand here we could hold those animals out."

"If we stand here then whose going to capture the central tower?" Asked Grum in reply.

"If we don't what's stopping them from reaching the line, sir?"

Grum sighed and then signaled the unit to stack up. All of them looked dirt encrusted on their carapace armor from their short skirmish outside. Grum explained the incoming threat and watched the slight tells on each trooper's face. Vinny was the most determined; he wanted payback for Trigg's death. Tali was the next most eager to engage. Vork was the obvious loose bundle of frayed nerves, He would bolt for the line if didn't mean treason. Paxx was thinking of the mission instead of personal vengeance. Salv too. Sonny would go either way but his concern for Lars condition was taking precedence.

Grum never liked the taste of pickles, He especially didn't like being in one either.

Blacktooth took out his personal black hololithic display and within seconds a small three dimensional map floats in the center of the huddle. "Our driver couldn't have gone that far off course. If we cross through the alley ways that run Northwest from here we should be able to reach the tower in twenty five to thirty minutes minimum."

"That's if it's still standing. Look around, these traitor's aren't being discreet shots with those shells." replied Vinny.

"Plus there's terminators, Terminators! No way could we take them in a direct fight." Added Vork.

"We still have three rounds left for the launcher, plus a splinter mine. Besides I think the termies are in locked engagement with the other squads. Probably the Flaming Howlers or Knuckledraggers." said Paxx.

"We can't make any assumptions like that! We've got take out these heretics now or never." spoke Tali at her teammate.

"May I remind you all that we're on a critical mission to capture and hold that objective. Any time wasted arguing we'll lose sight of both opportunities." Said Grum to all present.

"But what about Lars? I don't know if he hold out through that maze out there." Inquired Salv.

Grum signed and looked at the floating screen. Those wolves were making fast time across the western streets. Once they slaughtered the reanimates of the 501st they'll bee line for the throat of the guard forces. If however they left the objective in idle hands, the archenemy could press through unobstructed.

"Give me your grenades." Was Grum's answer.

"Sir?" asked Paxx this time.

"One grenade from each of you, Preferably frags. Come on," The sarge opened his hands as each member of the unit unpacked one grenade from their belts. Then he looked at his longest and trusted friend from basic who loved the taste of chew so much he earned the nick name Blacktooth. "Jonny, you take point and lead the silverbacks to the tower. Once inside try and contact Central command."

"Umm If you don't mind me asking sir but why would Corporal Blacktooth lead us and not you?" inquired Vork.

"Cause I'll be busy handling our little doggie problem personally. " Grum took off his own belt and strapping off his personal equipment to make room for the grenades.

Vinny and Salv looked at each other to Grum's response. The other's were speechless. Blacktooth put away his map and went to the man's ear again.

"Look Arloo, I know you got brass ones down between your legs but you got jelly head if you think you can take on an unknown grouping of enemy cavalry like that by yourself." Replied Blacktooth in disagreement.

"I won't be."

"What?"

"Alone. I'll have Lars as my backup. He can still shoot that melta. Plus I have Lucy and Ethel." Grum patted Ethel resting under his right armpit.

Blacktooth tried to find the words. "But...how...with what... They enemy probably has stormshields that will reflect most damage and there's the beasts to deal with. Plus Lars is medicated."

"I can still fight..." The trooper in question said weakly.

The group turned to see Lars sitting up on the wooden plates that use to hold boxes of fresh produce from various agri-communs throughout the planet's once fertile landscape. "I can still fight...it's only a scratch..."

"Lars you should lay down..."Spoke Sonny as he tried to approach his comrade.

"No! I froze before. I won't fail the sarge twice," Lars outstretched his good arm outward. "My melta. Give me my melta."

Tali went to the wall adjacent of the wounded trooper and picked up the weapon in question. She handed to him gently , making sure he got grip on the handle.

Blacktooth was about to say something when Grum patted the corporal on his shoulder. "We'll rejoin you once this mess is cleared up. I won't take any unnecessary risk. I mean it."

The corporal chewed one last slow chew before spiting it on the cold granite floor. "...Double time Troopers! Break time is over! Vinny take point at the exit. Tali goes second. I'll cover the six. Let's move!"

The silverbacks grabbed gear and headed for the back exit. Vinny kicked open the door using his boot and Tali pressed forward into the back alley. She signaled the all clear with her hand and then Vork and Salv rushed out into the dead city. Sonny followed but Paxx looked back at his commander and made the sign of the Aquila for his soul before joining the squad. Blacktooth relieved Vinny at the door and looked back at the stubborn mule. "How do we know it would be you?"

"Simply, I'll be the only person crazy enough to knock on the front door, " Grum said with a grin.

Blacktooth grinned and showed those blackened choppers of his. As he shut the door the bay darkened except for the emergency lights hanging over head. Lars looked up at his commanding officer. "So do we have a plan?"

"No but we got six to twenty minutes to come up with one."

[commisarblur]

seventeen minutes pass...

"Look Brothers! See how they bleed out rivers!" Laughed Doth the devourer as he slashed viciously into the retreating guardsmen. "Let our hounds feast!"

His wolf, Daemonicus, chewed on a knight's arm as it charged down the crater filled street.

The retinue was five in total. They were lead by a aspiring champion named Fevorius , bearer of the plague shield night's bane, who rode on the back of Gorefur. He watched out of the corner of his vision at Doth's excitement. The follower of Khorne slashed his lighting claws in a rhythm no sane man could fathom. Telic, who rode on Stareater, laughed at his little brother before decapitating a weakling from behind. Fevorius betrayed no emotion; He raised is warp axe forward as Gorefur hungrily devoured the last bits of Commisar meat. Horus had shown his favor this day. Fevorius saw to the slaughter of four dozen of the false Emperor's brood and by night's dawning he we will raze another forty more.

The retinue pressed onward, to the east at full charge. Gorefur howled his eagerness for more meat. It would echo across the masonry blocks and leave cracks across window grain. This day would be for Horus.

"More! MORE! Blood for Khrone and Blood for Horus!" Cried Doth with arms outstretched to the cloudy gray heavens. "Daemonicus is not sated! I am not sated! Bring us Mor-"

Doth's words were cut short by fragmentation from a well hidden grenade. Daemonicus caught his paw in a thin trip wire which set it off; injuring beast and toppling rider. Doth rolled several meters before momentum ceased. He let out a curse that involved suggestive implications between the false Emperor and some goats.

The retinue encircled around their fallen comrade, who rose up continuing his cursive rant.

"Silence that tongue, Doth, you'll bring about our deaths with it." Commanded Fevorius. With but a node, Telic leapt off of Stareater to inspect the defeated Daemonicus.

"Tis wounded but it is not mortal," Telic plucked a small metal frag from the giant wolf's neck. He studied it like one would read a book. "Guardsmen...not far now."

"How many?" asked the champion in weary eagerness.

"The shards cannot say. Perhaps a few. The direction speaks south east."

"Khorne has heard my call and has answered! " spoke Doth with lighting claws raised to the grey sky. "I will devour their flesh and drink their bloo-."

Fevorius' warp axe split into Doth's helmet. Blood soon gargled out forth from the exhaust mouth before the corpse tumbled over. The Champion turned his gaze to the remaining retinue. "My word is the word from Horus's lips himself. Define me in anyway and you forsake your place in the afterverse."

The remaining astartes kept their silence as Fevorius dismounted to claim his prize. One was Araknas, the other Ko'tor the cleaver. They curled their lust to scavenge their fallen brother's gear.

Tradition states the champion has first taste. And so the champion took; he pulled his axe from Doth's crushed skull and cleaved into the fallen's breastplate. Then he picked apart the fragments till he could wrap his armored servos on one of Doth's still hearts. It looked pinkish wit violet arteries spidering across the wet surface. He offered it to Gorefur who licked it out of the champion's hand eagerly; afterword Gorefur growled in pleasure.

The young killers jumped from their beasts and pouned on the body. Araknas took a boltpistol with some spare clips and a pouch of Khorne runes. Ko'tor scavenged what little sharp knifes he could find. Telic declined, rather focused on the hunt at hand.
The pack teared into the body, all except Daemoicus who rested on the sidewalk weakly.

Fevorius painted a rune upon his breastplate with his blooded hand then boosted above the gorging animals. "These loyalist scum dare to challenge us from the shadows of ruins, then I say we charge in and tear the walls down upon their frighten corpses. "
Telic rose and met his superior eye to eye. "And what of our furry companions?"

"They'll feast on what's left of this dolt and rest. If they still hunger they'll feed on the wounded mongrel. "

Telic chuckled as he looked to the streets for answers. Gifted by the gods with the sense of trace, The wise looked for the signs of the pray. Subtly things; papers crumpled by foot traffic, a broken bottle, some displaced brick work and crumbled concrete, thin shadows of this that weren't there. Around every corner was a potential death trap. Fevorius stayed behind Araknas with Telic sniffed in the air. Ko'tor held the rearguard, gently stroking his assortment of blades.

"I smell a life. Human. There in the south eastern ruins," Telic then jerked his head in another direction and pointed toward an abandon store keep with a blown in display window. "Another! Faint though."

"Then we shall divide then butcher. Araknas , your with me. Telic, take Ko'tor to scout the alleyways. Return with the loyalists heads and then we'll be off to gather more! For Horus!" Commanded Fevorius with a raised bloodied axe. His comrades rose their own weapons in reply.

And so the retinue went into separate ways; each confidante in raking in another trophy to their names.

The wolves continued to chew, bite, snarl at one another, and ripe apart metal and meaty chucks of the once devotee of Khorne. Blood flowed down into a street drainage.

[Jackal-0311]

Nice.

[commisarblur]

((apologies for the long wait. Wrighting takes time for me.))

Telic had always been a cautious hunter. He had seen the folly of so many that charged headlong into the most obvious of traps. His keen observations along with uncanny sense of danger earned the elder brother nickname the wise one or more shorten the wise. Here now of all places his sense of trace was being put to the test. As shells flew overhead, Telic kept his eyes to the shadows. His tongue felt almost magnetic in this charged atmosphere. Somewhere, in this war torn desolate slum, was a killer that was displaying a sense of cunning Telic hasn't seen in a thousand year span.

Ko'tor the cleaver followed, with firm grip on his blood soaked power axe. "Wise one, why are we bothering with such trival matters? The battle wages around us. "

"No brother," answered Telic in a calm manner. "The real battle is here."

"But this is beneath us; hunting a lone rat."

Telic spun around in flurry of great speed and pined his comrade against the ruined concrete walls of this narrow alleyway. "Do not think yourself above this hunter or myself, young Ko'tor. I won't kill you like our champion would but do not think you would walk away unscathed. Am I clear?"

Ko'tor's wolf helm nodded in acknowledgment to the better marine. Telic then released and turned his attention to the hunt once again.

*******
Fevorius preceded with no hindrance to his stride. His plas-steel boots crushed any glass beneath it into fine powder. Araknas stood for a moment outside. He studied the dimly light corners of the room. Empty display shelves, broken refurguation cases in the back. Leftover scraps of preservatives.

Then Araknas crossed into the threshold, scraping his axe blade against the soft metal shelving, leaving behind a long hiss. He so would like to have been with the first wave that drowned this planet in its own blood.

The younger Astarte caught up with his aspiring champion by the back door. Fevorius held not the sense of trace that Telic possessed but he knew that the best traps were the ones you least expected. That's why its handy to have the underling go in first.

On a silent count Fevorius kicked down the door and Araknas rushed within. Fevorius waited for the sound of a death shrill but alas Araknas lucked out. The champion then followed inside a storage bay with shelves of mixed vegetables, can dried foods, stored grains and cash crops brought from the agri-communs that now reside only as dust within distant memory. Araknas was busy kneeling down and checking a dried pool of blood that caked a stack of wooden pallets. The tips of his fingers held a dulling red going into brown of dying blood cells.

"Tellic was right. Someone was here. Dead by now."

"Do not assume anything with these loyalist scum. They tend to hide annoyingly enough..." Fevorius began to push aside abandoned food crates and prepackaged containers with a nudge of his plague shield. Mere touches from the shield caused mold to appear.

Araknas guided himself away from his companion. His sight squarely on the trail of dried blood droplets that lead to the small freezer in the back western corner. Araknas' scanner could barely register any heat sources within the steel monsulem. T'was dark as well. So strange to him how ironic all this was. Food so abundant they leave it to rot on the shelves. Araknas' briefly remembered the constant struggle in his youth to keep his body nourished. That desire to live gave him strength and favor from Horus. Now he laughed to himself as he went on the hunt for glutinous weak.

Boldly he stepped passed the opened doorway. His night vision filters revealing more detail out from the unpleasant darkness. Frozen chucks of Grox hung on metal hooks. Smaller, less identifiable bits of meat rested on metal shelving. The temperatures were close to freezing. Araknas pushed aside the hanging carcasses till his vision caught sight of his quarry; slumped against the back metal wall covered in stained paper thin sheets. He was muscular, black haired wearing a red bandanna, left arm looking as red as the dead meat around. No oblivious weapons on him. Araknas poked the body twice with the tip of his power axe and watched for signs of filching pain.

Satisfied, Araknas turned to yell out to his master that the hunt was over. Such fragile creatures these loyalist scum were. As the words began to flow out of the young Astarte's mouth he felt this sudden burning within his abdomen. His free hand went to feel at his plated torso only to find a cauldrized hole where his liver should have be. Then another burning piercing shoot ripped into his spine. This time he spotted a burning bright ball emerge from within his breastplate and then explode against the steel wall.
Seconds felt like an eternity as he fell upon his knees. Suddenly he was feeling so cold now. The power axe, a prize he won rightfully after cleaving a prospective rival in two for it, felt rather heavy to keep a lift in his armored hands. He fell before the axe touched the floor, the last images being the back of his commander's power pack.

Secretly he wished He could have at least tasted the meat hanging on the hooks before succumbing to eternal rest.

****
Lars felt a little funny after firing that last shot of hot plasma from Lucy. It wasn't fear this time nor relief. It was a yearning. That itch one gets after sky jumping or after taking down a large four armed Ogryren monkey and you feel satisfied but you crave for more. Adrenaline would explain it but in his soul he desired to kill. Fortune for him there was the other dreadful traitor in the back room.

Lars quickly got to his feet and headed for the side of the large freezer door. He then waited in the darkness for the second foe to rush to the aide of his fallen comrade. However this one was a little more cautious. First the enemy called out in a foul tongue unclean to even men like poor Trigg. Then it stomped over with its plasteel boots closer and closer. Lars ready Lucy in his good hand waiting for the foe to come to the dark side.

That's when a pinecone shaped frag grenade bounced inside the freezer, decorated in runes most foul. Lars rushed like a mad spirit for the double doors to the prep room. The explosion caught the doors and knocked Lars skidding across the dirty floor. Most of the shrapnel embedded itself against the meat husks and steel walls. The Catachan barely had time to stand again as his foe howled his charge into the now damaged cooling unit. Lars had seconds to hide.

He choose to pocket Lucy into his pants, hop onto a cutting table and hoist himself into the false ceiling.

Fevorius furiously hacked into the hanging, pieces of meat. The swinging caused his warp axe to transmute flies from the cuts and severing of muscle tissues. Despite the cold these warp spawn fluttered around Fevorius like an obscuring shroud. They followed him as he viciously searched for the prey in the carnage.

****
Ko'tor knelt down to join Telic as he carefully studied a lone shoe string hanging low in an abandoned doorway. He heard many a tale as to this veteran's uncanny skills in the battlefield and he was starting to see why the champion Fevorius listened to his counsel well. As the wise tripped the string using his own power axe, a metal pole sprung into the doorway; It tied with a glass shard for piercing at the vital neck.

"He's crafty. It's at the perfect height too. Come there will be more traps ahead." ordered Telic as he drew out his bolt pistol.
The pair then proceeded to enter the ruin , ever watchful. At this point Telic had a bolt pistol trained at the shadows hiding from the blasting explosions of shelling outside. They were getting close now. There was an excitement boiling in his veins.

Suddenly, a hissing heated beam of sub atomic fire jumped out from the darkness, grazing Telic's right shoulder guard. The chaos Iconography turned into white hot soup that poured down the length of the veteran's arm. In agitated response he fired out an entire clip of his bolt pistol. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the tail end of a large coat dotting outside.

"There!" Shouted Telic as he began to reload. Ko'tor darted like a arrow in pursuit.

In the young Astarte's haste he failed to notice that his boot snagged another wire hidden in the shadows of the opening. This triggered a couple of frag grenades to go right near Telic, causing him to lose balance and fall back. He would live as his armor withstood the shrapnel and strength of the explosion.

Ko'tor meanwhile howled out insults to his quarry whom seemed to move like the wind against the back drop of ruins and falling debris. Another shot of heated ions rushed head on at Ko'tor. Quickly and confidently he swung his power axe hoping to deflict the beam using the weapon's own force field. The collision ignited a white out that blinded Ko'tor for only a moment. It worked in a sense; the beam recoshaed into a stone wall but the axe head became like scrap metal. His opponent disappeared like smoke wafting outward in the crater's around him.

"Coward! FACE YOUR BETTER!" Ko'tor discarded his now useless metal weight and drew out his weapons of choice. They were shiny and still sharp as the day he plucked them out of the corpses of PDF he butchered when he was a Neophyte. He charged forward like a mad dog with a bone in his mouth. He plowed right through a brick divide that separated the once standing residence from the open street. His Lyman's hearing caught the still hissing barrel of a discarded melta lying only a couple of feet from him. He thought it fitting to slew this pest with his own weapon as he reached down to pick it up.

Telic reached the opening that Ko'tor chased their foe outside. He called to his foolish brother in arms as Ko'tor picked up the melta, ignorant of the frag grenade underneath. The resulting explosion took out the better part of a street corner and what remained of the divider. A towering inferno rosed in place where Ko'tor once stood.

The wise pulled back into the shadows of the ruin and waited. Soon it would be his turn. He kneeled down to pray to the all seeing spirit of Horus and the chaos gods above him. Telic would die giving the gods one last good show of it. He listened and opened his mind to the world around him. Past the shelling, the cracking lasguns and booming bolters, the death shrieks and even the roaring of tanks, he listened for breathing.

There! Behind the northwest corner of the room he was in. His bolt pistol opened fire into the flimsy wall. A single plasma bolt answered back through one of the new holes added. It missed Telic by a mile and thus he charged cleaving downward with his poweraxe. The charged blade cut through like a knife would a tender grox chunk.

Telic pulled away and ready himself for another engagement. Both of his hearts raced. So many shadows to strike at. Where would death strike next? Through the wall? Around the doorway? Behind him? The Saliva in his own mouth tasted so good right now as the anticipation boiled.

His ears caught sound of cracking woodwork above him. As he glanced upward he saw the figure of Sergeant Arloo Grum leaping downward firing Ethel in a barrage of hot plasma bolts.

[commisarblur]

((Hi folks. Hope your enjoying the story so far and if you want to leave comments please keep them short. Enjoy.))

Tali's attention perked up to that last explosion in the distance behind her. It didn't hold the same sound of a shell cracking but more of a massive Fhoosh like fire hissing out of a heavy flamer nozzle. A tower of black smoke begins to emerge from the alleyways where the sarge and Lars were holding up. It tugged at the back of her mind leaving them both like that.

Corporal Jonny Blacktooth called for the rearguard to advance as he and Sonny held point behind a wall divide. Tali shook her mind back into the fight at hand and double timed with Paxx and Salv as their bodyguard. The hoped the divide and ran straight across the street, being all the weary of snipers in the glass less windows.

Once on the other side, Salv checked for trip wires and glanced around the corner to spot the prize. It had a foreboding presence despite all the apparent destruction around. Taller then any of the remaining buildings standing by at least two stories. A massive hooded angel bearing a flaming sword stood guard as a motiff along the surface of the southern wall. Between its massive stone feet rested the door. The remaining walls each bared a massive angel but each would wield a different object. East claimed a long spear that pointed toward the Guard front line. West sported a spiked mace riddled with tiny etched hymns on the surface.

Salv couldn't tell what the north held for it was obscured from his view. He signaled the all clear to which Tali and Paxx passed down to the unit on the other side of the road. Satisfied, Blacktooth moved the rest of the unit across, two at a time, till he huddled across by his lonesome. He moved up to join Salv at his corner and took a look himself.

"Still standing, that's some mighty craftsmanship I take it." spoke Salv.

"Admire it when your dead or when we kill these heretics trooper, now do we have any movement?"

"None for the last eight minutes. We have to be the first ones here."

"If Grum was here he'd knock your arse flat for making such assumptions, but since its just me why don't we go and knock on the front door, Hmm?" He said with a casual smile as he pulled out a flashbang.

Vork and Vinny advanced first; each man resting with back against an angel's foot. The heavy weapons team of Tali and Paxx ran next, with Paxx mumbling a imperial hymn along the way. The remaining silverbacks waited as a shell knocked out a wall from the adjoining alley then advanced under the cover of kicked up debris clouds.

At the door, Vinny and Vork readied for entry. Blacktooth cooked the lock with a small sprits of his melta nozzle before kicking it wide with some Catachan devil stompers size fourteen and a half.
Vinny went in first and quick sweep the entryway clean just as Vork, with a little nervous twitch, covered the stairs. Blacktooth advanced the rest up the stairs with melta pointing the way.

Vox comm lines ran down the length of the interior. Countless prayer sheets served as wall paper. The stairway creaked with every foot stomp. A slight decay filled the air as the squad approached the broadcasting station sitting near the top floor. Salv thought heard some buzzing on the other side of the door. With but a nod from the acting commander, Tali kicked down the door and swept the vox room.

In previous times this whole tower was a propaganda machine for the Ecclesiarchy. A tower to symbolize the emperor's might across the galaxy with a working vox station to broadcast far and wide off the holy messages of the day.

Today though it serves a vital strategic point and a tomb to the late Father Mkhenry whom Trooper Tali had the displeasure of discovering slumped over the vox caster with his brain missing. Quite bloated now with flies laying eggs in his mouth and eyes. "Throne he's ripe."

She signaled the all clear and one by one the unit came in covering mouths and squinting eyes. Paxx made the Aquila out of respect to the dead.

"Vinny you think you can work your magic here?" inquired Blacktooth with a node to the vox caster.

Vinny used his las to push aside the late father and began flicking switches and fine tuning frequencies. "Little messy but I should be able to begin transmitting to command shortly."

"Alright, Salv head back down stairs to help the whinier setting up our defenses. Sonny, Paxx, Tali; find the roof access and start doing some spotting. I want to have targets painted so the boys with the big toys can finally shot straighter."

"Sir what about him?" Paxx motioned to the body.

"Leave it." Was Blacktooth's reply.

"But he's an imperial citizen, more so he's a member of the Adeptus. Shouldn't we cover him or say a praye-"

Blacktooth didn't want to waste time arguing so he opted to incinerate the corpse with a quick shot of his melta. The body quickly turned to ooze and filled the air with the smell of burning flesh.

"Problem solved. Now get to work." Blacktooth spat out his chew into the burning remains.

[commisarblur]

Lars tried his best to crawl inside the darken space of the false ceiling. Wirings were a constant obstacle. His left shoulder felt very sore from all the running and lifting. The light from his Aquila branded pocket Zippo shined at a dimmer. Parting from Lars' lips was the litany of obscurity; a prayer to hide one's self from the prying eyes of chaos. In this case a deranged traitor marine wielding a warp axe.

Beneath the false ceiling was the buzzing of thousands of blood flies swarming every space of the abandoned shop. Acting as minature blood hounds for Fevorius as broke through the double swing doors of the prep room. Immediately his fury was taken at the objects of the room. Cutting boards. Metal sinks. Kitchen knives. Shrink wrapper. Countertops. After his rant cooled some there was little left standing.

The aspiring champion now moved on to the center of the store keep, kicking down some metal shelving just for his brief amusement. He could smell fear in the air. His warp axe craved flesh to decay. Fevorius looked to Nurgle for guidance and thus the fat father of decay provided; The Blood flies swarmed and land along the white plaster false ceiling licking their tiny mouths for blood.

Lars was sweaty and tired. The litany of obscurity felt empty somehow. Ahead of him was an air vent that held salvation. If he could get inside then he could inside the layout would lead him to the roof access outside where better coverage could be attained. The wires still posed a challenge but the Catachan was more motivated now that the noises below stopped.

A steel blooded blur bursted through the tile Lars laid on, narrowly missing his guts. Ever motivated, the Catachan trooper doubled his pace through the wired bush just as the tile he laid on was cut down.

Fevorius roared as he took another swing with his warp axe. It carved through the tile work like scissors to paper. Electrics sparked from severed wiring. The emergency lights rapidly dimmed.

Lars reached for the steel frame of the ventilation but cruelly fell through by his weight to the floor below. The rough landing reopened some stitching on his shoulder wound, forcing him to gargle an pain filled scream.

However he spent little time pondering his plight on the floor as the champion of chaos began unleashing his fury into the display cases and shelving. With Lucy in hand, Lars jumped out of the broken store front window and back into the ensuring chaos of the battlefield. Fevorius charged after, Ignorant of the plasma bolts being plucked at his armor. The power of Nurgle's blessings proteced his champion even as the plague shield ate the bolts much a hungry newborn would sickle its mother. A couple hits did manage to penetrate the powered armor but Fevorius pressed on for the kill.

Lars sped into the adjoining alleyways, tapping an S.O.S on his ear bud. He zigged across street divides and zagged around crumbling walls. He ran until he couldn't hear the metal stomping of traitor boots after him. His beating heart thumped hard in his chest. Lars melted into the shadows of a still standing archway and checked the settings on Lucy; it was hard to do with shaky hands.

His wound felt itchy, burning almost. Lars spot blood flies flocking to drink up his sweet life fluid. He swat and blew the pests but they grew to a thick cloud around him. Their bites felt like little hot pokers. They sought after Lar's eyeballs and flew into his nostrils.
He bolted from the safety of the archway, cursing to the heavens above for reprieve. There was a mad laughter from a raspy vox in the background. Fevorius appeared from kicked up dust, dragging his warp axe across the ground.

"Nurgle provides to his faithful. Unlike your false god, mine has answered my prayers," The champion, seemingly victorious, drops his protective ward in favor of a two hand grip for more power to his swings. He approached slowly; watching and laughing at the imp's struggle. "Escape, like hope, is pointless. The blood flies will not relent until your body is filled with maggots. Death comes for us all and in the ensuring decay Nurgle prospers. In his name I will cleave you in two and then use your blood to mark this world forever."

Lars fell to his knees and curled up into a ball as the blood flies tried to crawl into every orifice of his flesh. Screaming only invited more of the vicious little invaders. Lucy barked in his hands but the bolts flew to distances of no interest. The champion, feeling rewarded for his chase, rose the warp axe above for a killing strike. The blade glowed red and puss green with the blood flies whistle past.

Ethel, meanwhile, had other things to say. Her plasma stream burned white hot as it obliterated the warp axe. Warp energy stormed outward. Pinkish-blue lighting struck at various ruins. The majority of the energy was felt by Fevorius himself. It surged with in his body, mutating his organs. The blood flies, spawned by the power of the axe, now blew apart like children's water balloons.

He fought the urge to fall to his knees afterwards. Fevorius was a champion of Nurgle after all. He turned slowly to face this challenger from the shadows. Grum walked out into the light of the battlefield, firing another bolt into the traitor's breastplate. His coat was dirty with gray dust. His flak armor bore a gash from the narrow miss of a power blade. His face was bruised like a soft skinned fruit and he was pissed off.

Laughter squeaked out of Fevorius helmet as the bolt melted into his breastplate. "...The energy released... has forever marked me with Nurgle's power...you've only helped...to make me...stronger...My God...will protect me...I will not fall...from any wound..."

The grizzled sergeant could really care less at this point. "Really now. What's his status on kneecaps?"

"...Wh-what?"

Ethel sung out two quick notes that evaporated the plasteel kneepads and right past the rotting flesh and decaying bone matter. Fevorius shrieked as he fell face first. The corrupted power armor cracked like porcelain when the champion impacted on the shattered dirt.

Grum rushed to his subordinate's aide, whom now was belching up blood and puss from the blood flies. Lars was too weak to speak his mind but he obliviously glade that the flies stopped biting him. He handed Lucy back whom was now covered in soaked puss and tiny wings. Grum was more concerned for his trooper as he wrapped the man's good arm around his shoulder and began to walk out of this dump. The chaos champion crawled, shouting and cursing at the imp's name.

"Finish me Cur! Haargh!! Finish me or I'll hunt you down and choke you with my bare hands!" Fevorius began to cough up blood and teeth inside his damaged helmet.

"Don't be like that, you could always ask your 'God' to grow you an new set of legs," remarked Grum with a confidante grin. "Right now though, if I was you, I'd be worried about the hungry wolves."

A blood curling howl echoed of the familiar black wolves of Horus throughout the ruinscape. Had Fevorius be a normal man he would be filled with dread and horror. Instead, he cursed and ranted in an inhuman tongue as he crawled off to hide in the shadows.

[commisarblur]

Around the corner the dust was settling. Sounds of artillery shelling were becoming distant like thunder. Smells of plaster and wood pulp was common as burnt manflesh. Yet the danger never goes away.

Pain was setting inside Arloo's bones. The adrenaline high was wearing thin. His vision was blurring from his good eye as he tried to make out shapes from the compact mirror. That fight with the traitor hunter turned out to be a difficult matter. Even with one good arm that beast gave Grum his all. Was it luck or divine guidance that allowed the Catachan to plunge his knife into the heretic's eye socket?

Resting uneasy against the mason wall Lars coughed up more blood then one thought he had. It drooled down his chin almost like a crimson goatee. Left arm hung in a makeshift sling out of Grum's Cameo-coat. The right's fingers contracted slowly, like he was counting in his fevered mind.

Together the pair made tracks across this plagued, shambled landscape. Resting more then the sarge would like. But the angels were in sight. All they had to do now was cross under the shadows of derelicts.

And watch out for wargs.

Grum tapped his trooper' knee and nodded that the time was nigh. Lars felt reluctant to rise but he couldn't fail the sarge now. The man who saved his life a thousand times on a thousand worlds. Purlas, Tallhase, Korvalt to name a few. But there were all ways more to lose. Triggs being the latest victim. That pornographic cuss. Survived Two crash landings from a Valkyrie only to get his brain pan splattered near a butcher's shop and flower market.

Lars coughed as he tried to form words. "...*cough*...Blavv...Black...*cough*...Blaguvh...Blacktooth's...Gonn...na...be...so...soo...re...wi...*cough*cough*...ya."

"Not the first time I ordered him away." Grum wrapped a sore arm around Lars' backside to hold up that shabby trooper.

Lars shook his pale head. "Nah,...*coughs*...we...forgot...*coughs*...the smokes....Triggs...*coughs*..."

Triggs was charged with holding on the victory dance should the team manage to live through this one. Grum remembered handing them over and threatening to flay that bastard alive should he get them wet and soggy.

"Well that is a damn shame, And we were in a grocer too."

Lars smirked and tried not to laugh. His insides felt like squirming out of his nostrils. "Was those...the last...*coughs*...of the Kobes?"

Grum nodded with a sadden tone. "Pure Kobine Cigars; hand crafted, dipped in honey wax mixed with sweet plums and as fat as my bionic thumb." He held out his left arm to show. Both his arms were bionic but the left was grafted with snyth-skin for a more human appearance.

"Throne...maybe we should...bill the traitors...for another set...hehkkeccooggffh...."

The pair crossed over a street and ducked under an archway embroiled with chirbbs, sighing to the emperor far far away. Grum wanted to smile but it hurt his face too much and he had a reputation as a hard arse to maintain. "Keep that cough in check trooper. It's gonna be hard to do when my boot kicks those teeth in."

"hehe...haahaha....Triggs would have liked that...Vinny...tooo...hehe...Haha...*coughs*" Lars lips continued to widen as his voice grew louder. "...I wonder...if he had...thought anything...as that bolt...heheh...To*cough*...tour out...his brain...like...swish! 'Another hole...for the ladies to...hahah...suck on'...HAHA."

Though closer they drew to the tower, the Sargent was not liking this state his subordinate was and when there was the danger of enemies around every corner. He gave a slap to Lars' chest with his left arm and then tried squish that grin off by pressing on the trooper's sweaty checks. "I Said hush that cough! That laugh as well. First terminy that spots us I'm using you as a shield you hear me?"

But Lars continued to laugh with a madding tone now. "Termines...Haha...what kind of name is that?....Haha*coughs* They look like hunchbacked....ogryns....without the Smell! Haha!"
He coughed and spat out some blood on the ground, maggots wriggling.

"Wouldn't...that be...a sight....Armored Ogryrns....Hahaha...."

"Quiet."

"hehe...don't worry boss....we got these remember?" Lars pulled out Lucy from her resting holster and waved it so casual. "...little mini sun...Hehe!"

Wide eyed, the sarge took hold of the firearm and so struggled with the laughing man in the alleyway. The bionics gave the rough edged Catachan advantage over most men but Grum was having trouble holding ground with his subordinate's strange build of strength. Lars just laughed, teeth turning yellow as corn and the stink of maggots wafting from his breath.

"Heheh...heehahhaaw...*cough*....sir....stomeings...wrogn....haha.."

"Drop the gun Lars! That's an order!"

"....haha...its...all...a joke...we're...a joke....Catachan....Korvalt....Here, what did they call....this place...Mul?...that's a terrible name....Mul....hehe...."

The right thumb of Grum's hand squeezed into the wounded shoulder. Yet instead of yielding Lars kept on laughing without hint of pain. Green Puss foamed out as Grum pressed harder. "Lars...damn it...your a son of Catachan. you took the blood oath. I swear to the God Emperor you drop Lucy right now or I'll cut off your Throne damn balls off!"

"heheh...do it...hahaha...DO IT....Hahaa...kill it already! This body is dead....Dead!....DO YOU HEAR ME?!...DEAD!" Lars breaks free and presses the gun against his chest.

A bright flash occurs.

Seconds later Lucy lands in the dust while Lars stands with an new hole in his chest. Strange as it is he continues to talk. "...We're ammo....just...ammo...they'll use...us...up."

As he fell Grum caught him. Arloo didn't remember doing that. Nor the part where he called for Vinny or sonny or anyone from the sliverbacks on his ear-bud. He only remembers those last words.

"Didn't...want to...fail....you...guesss...I made it up....funny....grew up on hell but never...knew fear....till today....Arloo....when its...your time...in the...chamber....make your mark. Just make that mark....mark it...gooood....."

****

Battle Field report

Date: 902.M41

Battle site: Angelus prime, Agri-world Mul.

After thirty five weeks of constant artillery shelling from both sides, Imperial forces under the command of Lord General Elise Pain launched a swift surgical strike against against the heart of the invading traitor warbands. Elements from 501st Vulpule, 27th Hikurin rifles, and 2200 specialist task force from the fourth Ultimar Division were deployed to counter the insurgents heretics and retake key objectives vital to our crusade's efforts of purging this taint from the world.

Casuality reports are currently believed to be a total loss for the Vulpule who enaged the traitor vanguard and nearly 50 percent for the Hikurins who tackled with the enemies' elite forces. Losses for The 2200 have been deemed classified under article five section three dash two for safety and security purposes for all specialist forces operating under imperial jurisdiction. However, a request was made on the behalf of a trooper Mitch Lars by his superior for Aquila star of valor and bravery. A further inquiry will be made into the deceased's actions.

Currently the forces of the Wolves of Horus have all but been forced off world where our Naval brethren will meet head on in the encircling asteroid belt. Yet as purging and cleansing is instiutated, reports come in about strange creatures attacking at night. Large fur covered abominations decorated in heretic markings of chaos. Occupation garrisons have yet to find any proof.

Authorization: Lrd Cmsr Gideon Blur; Forth Ultimar Division.

Thought: Burn the heretic lest he given the chance to sow his
work.


((So there you have it. My finished and first piece for the fluff section. Keep your eyes pealed for future ventures with Grum and his gunning band of misfits from the 2200 Catachan Hell monkeys.))

[Adam Selene]

Very cool, you shall make an excellent Warmaster one day.