Below is the account of the battle between Death Guard and Blood Angel Mercenary forces in the Timbra Sector
The Pride and the Fall
The hinterlands of Timbra Prime have more in common with an
ancient Terran woodcut showing pre-industrial countryside. Rolling hills covered in vines, bramble
intersected by a shallow creek; this would be a nice place to homestead and
farm, perhaps raise a family.
Until man came to war
upon the tranquil landscape. Post-human man. Genetically modified killers beholden to
desiccated psychic corpses and Gods of ruin bring devastation to tranquil places,
one vicious blow at a time.
“Sergeant Lianas, hold position.” Chimed the astartes vox
net within the helmet of veteran sergeant Calisto. His sternguard combat team crouched in the
open, fog obscuring their large forms.
“Surveillance servitors detected possible non-native
life-forms, in this sector. Global
positioning indicated that if we establish a perimeter here, whatever is here
will walk into our picket line.” Brother
Alessio informed the squad. Unfortunately, the machine spirits were temperamental this day, despite
the dedicated ministration of the tech-marines and serfs.
“Damned shit box has us walking blind.” Cursed Brother Anesto, tapping a gauntlet
finger against a transponder screen, and earning a chiding rebuke from
Calisto.
“Do not doubt the machine spirit, for you will only anger it
further.” Calisto tersely replied.
The hilltops appeared faint in the heavy fog, but as the
planetary stars rose over the horizon, the cloying fog appeared to lessen and
more of the landscape became visible.
Calisto cycled between various visual screens, settling on infra-red and
continued to eye the horizon. Various
white hot images populated his visual display.
“Standard wildlife signs apparent.
Quiet as a tomb” He reported. As
he opened channel to Squad Axilo, Squad Carena reported movement along the tree
line, non-native wildlife.
“Four hundred meters, heat signatures, possibly humanoid,
several. Estimated between twenty and
thirty along the perimeter.” Sergeant
Carena’s voice filled the vox net.” He
cycled through the visual screen options again, settling on a standard view,
with magnification set at five. “Contact,
traitor astartes, large concentration.
Formation appears unaware of our presence. Permission to engage requested.”
Lianas shouldered his bolter and Brother Ilano braced the
lascannon upon his shoulder. “ Lianas
squad set to engage upon authorization.”
“We shall engage when they enter the open, patience
brother.” Allesio responded.
“Death to the traitor, we will descend into their midst,
delivering retribution for Sanguinius and the emperor.” Shouted veteran
sergeant Algos as his squad of veterans meteorically descended toward the
hulking forms of the traitor astartes.
Two other assault units careened to the surface, jetpacks carrying them aloft. As Sergeant Akan slammed onto the surface, he began firing his bolt pistol, punching a fist sized hole into the pauldron of the nearest traitor. The bolt round burst in a large welter of pus and grey matter, leaving rust colored ceramite below, largely unscathed. The chaos space marine unit ponderously raised their boltguns and released a fusillade, downing Akan and two more of their number. Mass reactive bolts penetrated chest plates and helmets, detonating within the blood angels and toppling them. Akan’s display filled with red runes of warning. He suffered three penetrating injuries, one of which had burst a lung. “They are diseased. Our bolts ineffective, we…” Before he could finish his statement, a series of plasma pulses struck his left pauldron and head, vaporizing the upper left half of his torso.
Two other assault units careened to the surface, jetpacks carrying them aloft. As Sergeant Akan slammed onto the surface, he began firing his bolt pistol, punching a fist sized hole into the pauldron of the nearest traitor. The bolt round burst in a large welter of pus and grey matter, leaving rust colored ceramite below, largely unscathed. The chaos space marine unit ponderously raised their boltguns and released a fusillade, downing Akan and two more of their number. Mass reactive bolts penetrated chest plates and helmets, detonating within the blood angels and toppling them. Akan’s display filled with red runes of warning. He suffered three penetrating injuries, one of which had burst a lung. “They are diseased. Our bolts ineffective, we…” Before he could finish his statement, a series of plasma pulses struck his left pauldron and head, vaporizing the upper left half of his torso.
Squad Lianas fired kraken bolts at the traitors, Ilanos
lascannon screeched as a thick red beam shot out, bursting the chest plate of a
traitor marine. Another of the diseased
traitors staggered, several kraken bolts finding their mark and toppling him
from his feet. Squad Louis dropped within
meters of the stinking bulk of the marines
“By the emperor, the death guard are here, kill the ancient traitors without mercy.” Shouted Sergeant Gavril as he shot a chaos marine through the helmet grill.
Another pair of traitors was obliterated at close range with melta weaponry. The superheated blast that vaporized the upper half of one of the death guard blew the right arm off another. It fell on its knees, trying to retrieve its bolter. Brother Cardozo put the wretch down with a trio of shots to the head. The chaos marines returned fire with their bolters and a storm of mass-reactive rounds riddled Cardozo, Luis and Gavril, their ruined forms slumping to the ground.
“By the emperor, the death guard are here, kill the ancient traitors without mercy.” Shouted Sergeant Gavril as he shot a chaos marine through the helmet grill.
Another pair of traitors was obliterated at close range with melta weaponry. The superheated blast that vaporized the upper half of one of the death guard blew the right arm off another. It fell on its knees, trying to retrieve its bolter. Brother Cardozo put the wretch down with a trio of shots to the head. The chaos marines returned fire with their bolters and a storm of mass-reactive rounds riddled Cardozo, Luis and Gavril, their ruined forms slumping to the ground.
“Stupid lapdogs. Make
for the tree line.” Sepsian’s voice filled the heads of the traitor
astartes.
The groups of space marines moved with a fluidity that belied their massive bulk. Sepsian crossed into open ground when the air surrounding him filled with static and stinking ozone. In a nimbus of light, two squads of blood angels appeared, equipped with tactical dreadnaught armor. He bit into his bloated tongue and began uttering gutturally. As his chanting grey louder, he was surrounded by a cloud of fat blowflies that swarmed over the massive terminator suits. The diseased insects crashed into the terminators, their bloated bodies bursting on unyielding plate and reinforced ceramite.
Around Sepsian, several masses of bulk and constantly metastasizing tentacles charged forward with an awkward loping gait. The spawn-things collided with the red ceramite of the terminators, tentacles flailing and prehensile claws scraping at helmets and joints. Brother Rafael fell to a knee before his head, within his helmet, was torn from his neck with a brutishly powerful swipe of an overly muscled protrusion. Lascannon beams tore into the back of a spawn, scorching a limb off. Lianos looked on in rapt fascination as the burning hole in the spawn morphed and metastasized into a wicked bone claw, which promptly impaled another terminator. The terminators closed perimeter and began swinging their crackling power fists, bursting tentacled limbs and bisected screaming heads. With each strike, they staggered the fleshy, writhing and ululating monstrosities, but for each that fell, the terminators lost two of their own number.
Sergeant Hernan stepped through the corpse of one spawn, swinging his fist against the back of Sepsian and coring his chest. Sepsian fell to the ground and a cloud of cloying ichors burst from his rent chest plate onto the remaining terminators. Several of them falling to the ground. As Chaplain Agasi and Captain Niosos fought bravely, more jump pack armed blood angels were blasted to the ground and executed with brutal precision. They began to surround the captain, the chaplain and his rapidly diminishing bodyguard.
The groups of space marines moved with a fluidity that belied their massive bulk. Sepsian crossed into open ground when the air surrounding him filled with static and stinking ozone. In a nimbus of light, two squads of blood angels appeared, equipped with tactical dreadnaught armor. He bit into his bloated tongue and began uttering gutturally. As his chanting grey louder, he was surrounded by a cloud of fat blowflies that swarmed over the massive terminator suits. The diseased insects crashed into the terminators, their bloated bodies bursting on unyielding plate and reinforced ceramite.
Around Sepsian, several masses of bulk and constantly metastasizing tentacles charged forward with an awkward loping gait. The spawn-things collided with the red ceramite of the terminators, tentacles flailing and prehensile claws scraping at helmets and joints. Brother Rafael fell to a knee before his head, within his helmet, was torn from his neck with a brutishly powerful swipe of an overly muscled protrusion. Lascannon beams tore into the back of a spawn, scorching a limb off. Lianos looked on in rapt fascination as the burning hole in the spawn morphed and metastasized into a wicked bone claw, which promptly impaled another terminator. The terminators closed perimeter and began swinging their crackling power fists, bursting tentacled limbs and bisected screaming heads. With each strike, they staggered the fleshy, writhing and ululating monstrosities, but for each that fell, the terminators lost two of their own number.
Sergeant Hernan stepped through the corpse of one spawn, swinging his fist against the back of Sepsian and coring his chest. Sepsian fell to the ground and a cloud of cloying ichors burst from his rent chest plate onto the remaining terminators. Several of them falling to the ground. As Chaplain Agasi and Captain Niosos fought bravely, more jump pack armed blood angels were blasted to the ground and executed with brutal precision. They began to surround the captain, the chaplain and his rapidly diminishing bodyguard.
Captain Niosis brought his weapon across the many shoulders
and heads of the spawns, eliciting screeches and moans from the masses of
changing flesh. As chaplain Theonas swung
his crozius repeatedly and without impunity, a particularly large and putrid
traitor astartes swung his rusting and ichor laden sword in an overhand motion,
with scant regard for defense. While
under normal circumstances, Theonas could best such a traitor through superior
melee abilities, the crushing press of the diseased hulks slowed his reflexes. He fell to his knees with the diseased blade
jutting from the seal between his helmet and neck guard.
Captain Niosis screamed incoherently, tearing limbs from
spawn creatures and blasting his pistol.
There were twenty seven broken bones in his wrist, left arm and shoulder and his left femur
fractured. His chest plate cracked, the
imperial Aquila covered in puss, blood and flecks of ceramite and bone. He continued slashing after his pistol ran
out of ammunition, using the empty bolt pistol as a makeshift club. He continued to tear into the diseased
jibbering flesh that surrounded him and overwhelmed him all at once. Grandfather Hepatos watched in rapt
fascination as more red beams slammed into death guard marines, sometimes vaporizing
them and other times simply knocking the devotees of nurgle to the ground,
their bodies protected by the thick shell of plague and ichor upon them. He slowly walked toward the mass of flesh and
violence near the tree line as boltgun rounds flew by, making the noise of a
swarm of angry wasps. The screeching of
the chosen began to fade and Hepatos bared his broken teeth in amusement as the
spawns began to separate, several of them holding dismembered limbs and armor
parts. He knelt near a torso, and picked
up an empty terminator helmet, it’s inside sticky with grey matter and skull
fragments. Hepatos stood and put the
broken helm onto a barbed spine on his armor and walked away ponderously.
Bolter fire began to lessen.
The vox net filled with voices from other squads. The captain and chaplain’s life monitors had
gone still, as had the Lianos and the remaining squads began a tactical
withdrawal. Niosis could have prevented
this. He could have engaged tactically,
instead, his head decorates a trophy rack and five squads of blood angels,
including priceless terminator armor, lie broken upon desiccated vines, burning
grass and shattered tree trunks. The
codex did not direct the astartes to waste the resources of the emperor
needlessly. Retribution would be had
another time. For the now, the angels
would regroup and seek vengeance on better terms.
Battle Result: Victory for Death Guard mercenaries
Liberation Forces gain one Stratagem Supply
