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The War of Humans: Chapter Three
Posted By: Andrea Halcyon<tara_halcyon@hotmail.com>
Date: 6 October 2006, 3:34 am
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Isguil looked out towards the rising sun, the red sun coming over the mountains abading the snow covered mountains themselves as his eyes scanned the tops of them. He harsly remembered the lesson of the Heretics on Serphieres Prime, where they fired down on the mountains to kill he and his Guardsmen.
"Thank the power of the...In the name of the Emperor, what the hell is going on?!" He whispered, watching a giant dust cloud appear upon the plain in front of the miles long trench the Imperial Guardsmen and the Space Marines managed to create in the time frame of half a day. That's when he picked up his lasgun, aiming the futuristic weapon down the trench, as other Space Marines did so with their bolters and Heavy Bolters.
The sound of instrauments that reminded the red haired sergeant of drums, and growls of the alien xenos, were easily heard as the Guardsmen and the Space Marines prepared for the greatest battle they could ever face. The dust cloud settled, and then the sight of thousands upon thousands of Brutes, Elites, Grunts, Jackals, even Hunters were present in the mass of Xeno. One Guardsman near Isguil shivered. He looked over to Aragar Varnus, the Chaplain who knew he had to say words of comfort.
"Listen to me, my brothers! Today, we are fighting for humanity in this epic and great battle! Men, women, children's lives all depend on how we each fight, how we win, how we become legends!" He yelled, lifting his Daemonhammer high up in the air.
"We fight not only for them, but for the Holy Emperor!" He yelled again, causing cheers upon cheers in the defensive line. The Guardsmen, the Kashrin, and the Space Marines all prepared to fight to the death in the upcoming battle.
"For the Emperor!" He screamed, jumping over the trench and running down the hill leading to the plain. Screams were being yelled high in the air, as the Guardsmen and the Space Marines lifted themselves out of the trench and began to rush down the hill. The Covenant Forces were taken aback, these humans were not the same they fought with for over the years. Their intensity and the will to fight caused platoon sized amounts of Grunts to flee en masse.
Across the plain, in the High Mountains, Scout Marine spotters began to cite off large group of Covenant officers. Twenty four Whirlwind Artillery batteries began to fire out missiles, the fire almost defening from the position they were hiding in. The two battle lines closed in, with the Space Marines engaging their chainsaws as they hacked through the line. The artillery fire struck true, as multi-coloured armor figures flew up into the air screaming.
Varnus was at the foremost point of battle, screaming out the Emperor with each stroke. Truly, he was an artist at what he did. Each strike from his Daemonhammer was held gently, more technique than power, more finesse than simple swings. The Covenant were brutish, the humans they were fighting were artistic.
The screams of humans and Covenant were heard en masse, as the Covenant fell to the Space Marines in droves while the humans fell one after another in slow motions. Aragar stepped onto a pile of Elites and Brutes, as plasma flew around him but not touching him. Two Space Marines, one a Black Eagle with a large bolter and the other a Ultramarine with flaming red stripes on his helmet, armed with a Heavy Flamer, stepped up next to him upon the pile. They began to pray, looking to the men for the inspriation to win this battle. Firing their weapons, the Space Marines behind them stood in a line, firing off their Bolters and Heavy Bolters into the mass of Covenant. Aragar looked behind him, yelling the prayers, and watched as while one Space Marine would fall the other would take his place.
A half-circle was formed, as the Covenant pushed forward with their melee weapons. The Brutes with their strong and powerful hands met the cold hard steel of the short chainsaw that all Space Marines used. The plasma sword wielded by Elite commander met the Power Sword of the Force Commander standing next to Varnus. Gabirel, the Force Commander, screamed out the battlecry of the Blood Ravens as he brought the sword down upon the golden armoured Elite, his 'For the Great Father and the Emperor!' battlecry still resounding out within the massive Space Marine forces that inhibited the armour of the Blood Ravens.
The Elite ducted down, the Power Sword swinging barely centimeters over the alien's head. Gabirel hissed, pulling it back as the Elite saw it coming. The xeno took a step back, dodging quickly, before he brought his own sword forward to stab Gabriel. With his free hand, Gabriel grabbed the wrist of the Elite. The Elite tried to pull back, but when he could not a look of horror replaced his calm face as he stared into Gabriel. He yelled again, twisting it in a complete three sixty degree turn.
The Elite howled in pain, its eyes squinting. Varnus, watching, turned his body around quickly as he brought down his massive Daemonhammer onto the Elite's head. The metal crushed the skull of the Elite before it continue to travel through skin. It smacked into the dirt, the Elite folding out in two. Gabriel let out a cheer of victory, prepared to rush forward before he stopped, hearing an Guardsman.
"Oh no...not them!" He yelled, pointing to the sky above the blood soaked battlefield. Gabriel looked up, and gasped at the sight...
The Farseer stood straight, holding her wrist gingerly as it turned within the small palm of her free hand. John laid on the ground, his eyes open but his body immobile. Macha bent down to her knees in front of him, her body completely covered in armour but he thought he felt the soft touch of her skin when she trailed her finger along his neck.
"Now, now John...I thought that, even without the memory releasing, you would not be stupid to give into animal like dulgences." She said, her slippery voice echoing within the walls of John's head. He stared upwards at her, her armoured body giving him the feeling that she was looking directly down upon him.
"The Imperium is fighting your enemies. Khrone has already taken notice, and his followers are already here. We are prepared to end this, once and for all John. But we need you, and your races' help. Are you prepared, John?"
Only one thought was in his head. One matter of this entire scheme that was bothering him to the bits of his head.
"Where is Andrea?"
"You mean the Vindicare Assassin? She is in confindment. If you listen carefully, you can hear her mutter prayers to the Emperor..." She shook her head. "I suppose you have served your purpose, for the moment. I will permit the two of you to leave."
"Farseer...I..."
"There is no need to apologize, John, for both accounts. You are not the Imperium, and it is my place to forgive..."
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