This story is an unofficial story based, without permission, on the Warhammer/Warhammer 40,000 intellectual property owned by Games Workshop Ltd.
"And so the story's told of a hearty group of men it's a tale of their triumphs and their woes.
Be it raids and melees ancient or the modern worker's struggle
that inspires men to stand up for their rights.
And should we fall down by the wayside in this ever-changing world
we can look back to these heroes of our past.
With their staunch determination and ferocious iron will,
no tyranny would quell them in their task."
Lieutenant Picksten died just over three hours ago. Callus thought he had substantially slowed the Ork invasion by blasting the roadways. How stupid of him. Instead he'd just shown them the path through the sewers. How very, very stupid.
Callus took another drag on his cigarette. Daniella was asleep, his arm around her. He offered to Ox, who took a long drag.
"Tastes like crap."
"Guard issue, what did you expect?"
"The finest cigar from the finest fields of Havanar VI."
Callus laughed.
The artillery was pounding again. Ork artillery of course. The Imperials had nothing left. No armor of any kind, in fact. Just random soldiers, some Kazarkanians, some civilian volunteers, some Penal Legionnaires. Some citizens of the spire that had had a lasgun shoved into their hands and told to shoot. All of them were cramped inside the small space of rubble that they still had left. The end would be here soon. The Orks would come, and then they'd all be dead. Callus had accepted it, more or less. He took another drag on the cigarette. A shell impacted somewhere near the hole of rubble he was sitting in. He hardly noticed. A wall of red light escaped from what was left of the spire. They were shooting back at the orks.
"Why bother?" Callus asked, aloud.
"Why not?" Ox said. "Might as well bring as many down with you as you can."
"I'll save my rounds. I'd rather go down shooting when they tear me apart.
He only had two power cells left, one half empty and resting in his rifle, the other on his belt. His knife had broken in two an hour and a half ago. Lodged in the skull of some green skin filth. Ox's flamer was useless at anything but immediate range, so he wasn't firing either.
The ground shook again. Ork artillery.
Then screaming.
"Fall back! Fall back! They're charging! Incoming!"
Callus dropped the cigarette and smashed it with his boot, shaking Daniella to wake her up.
She picked up her lasgun as he spoke.
"Come on girl, we got killing to do."
***
Moscardi grinned a feral grin as his fleet emerged from the warp. The small, brown planet that was Hargon loomed in front of them, surrounded by Ork rocks. Imperial fighters and interceptors poured forth from the fleet.
"All available power to shields and weapons systems. Engage the enemy head on. The Emperor Protects."
Moscardi was immensely giddy at the prospect of bringing the retribution of His Most Holy Majesty to His foes. He found himself, crying out, unbidden;
"AVE IMPERATOR!"
***
"AVE IMPERATOR!" The cry went up spontaneously across the Imperial lines as the foul green xenos charged. Corporal Michael Callus found himself joining in, despite himself.
Then all hell broke loose.
Callus poured six rounds into the chest of the first green thing that came at him, screaming like the foulest warp-beast.
Ox's flamer lit up sending the beasts into the jaws of perdition a bit early, as Daniella's lasgun began to fire, sputtering at first, then firing on full auto.
This was it, Callus knew. This was the last stand.
Somewhere in the deep, the drums of war were raging, and the dread chant of the Orks was picking up;
"'ERE WE GO 'ERE WE GO 'ERE WE GO! 'ERE WE GO 'ERE WE GO 'ERE WE GO! 'ERE WE GO 'ERE WE GO 'ERE WE GO!"
Then, as if with a single voice, deep, terrible, and animalistic. A single cry of foul xenos victory.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!'
Callus' rib was broken. He was, quite literally, flying through the air. He landed with a sickening crunch atop a pile of smashed rubble and human corpses.
He made his way to his feet, gingerly, aiming his lasgun once again.
The Ork was big. Bare chested and clad in steel toed boots and what was left of a pair of black pants, he held a huge slugga in one hand and a choppa in the other. One of its yellowed fangs had been completely torn out, and it had a missing eye. The other glowed with red fury. It roared again, charging.
Callus opened fire, the bright red lances tearing off bits of its skin. It didn't stop. It didn't even seem to notice the fact that it was trailing blood from a thousand different lacerations. One of Callus' rounds tore into its chest. It had to have nearly obliterated its right lung, Callus reasoned.
It didn't seem to reason the same.
It was about to smash into the corporal again, full bore, when Ox finally caught up with them, and poured flame over its body. It finally seemed to remember what pain was, as it squealed in protest.
It turned to face Ox, raising its choppa. And its hand was blasted off at the wrist by Daniella's lasgun.
Callus raised his rifle again, quickly ejecting the spent power cell and slapping in a new one. The whirr of the weapons charge hadn't finished when he began to pour rounds into the Ork, forcing it to the ground, and finally killing it.
There was nothing resembling lines anymore. Just complete Chaos. The Orks were in among the spire, rampaging. Civilians, penal legionnaires, seasoned and hardened assault troopers of the 207th Kazarkanian. All were fleeing, screaming, a futile attempt to avoid their fate.
***
"Evasive maneuvers! I said evasive maneuvers!" Moscardi cried out, as the Sol Invictus banked hard to the left, avoiding a flurry of fire from one of the Ork Kill Kroozers.
The Imperial fleet was making short work of the Orks in orbit above Hargon. Even know, fighters, bombers, and troop carriers, laden with the soldiers of the 49th Ellysian and 23rd Trardorian were spewing into orbit, making their way done to New Gurgenstein to relieve what was left of its beleaguered defenders.
A single division of Guard drop troopers, made and specialized for light, fast, assault, tasked to defend a hive city in a prolonged siege. It was the single stupidest strategic decision the admiral had ever heard. He would have the head of whomever ordered it.
But that would come later. Now was the time for felling the foes of the Emperor.
"In the name of His Most Holy Majesty, the God-Emperor of Mankind, King of Terra, and one true Master of the Galaxy," Moscardi began, using the Emperor's full title, "I command thee to smite these foul xenos, that His progeny, mankind, may continue on in its glory unhindered. Fire!"
The Sol Invictus had, by this time, trained all its weapons on the Kill Kroozer, and come around to its broadside.
As Moscardi's command, it emptied its weapons battered in a single flurry of destruction that tore the primitive craft to shreds, leaving the mighty hulk nothing more than a floating field of orbital debris.
***
Callus dived behind the burning husk of what had once been a Chimera, Ox and Daniella following soon after. The screams of the dying were everywhere. Gunfire surrounded them.
A junior preacher, in the purple robes of his office, gold aquila pendant around his neck, had already been sitting behind the APC, reading from the Liber Imperator hurriedly, muttering to himself. At their sight he slammed it shut and hugged it to his chest, rising to his feet and recoiling from them as if he expected them to seize the Holy Scripture from him. His hood fell back to reveal a bookish young man, with violet eyes and close cut blonde hair. His skin was of a golden bronze.
Callus nodded to him as he sat up, leaning around the Chimera and squeezing off a burst towards the still advancing xenos.
Popping his last cigarette from his pocket, Callus lit it on the igniter of Ox's flamer, taking a long, stiff, drag. It tasted sweet, knowing it would be his last.
He handed it to Daniella, and she took one as well.
She looked him in the eyes, tears welling. She didn't say anything, she just hugged him for a moment. He hugged her back.
"Uhm, I hate to break your rapture, but who are you?" the Preacher asked.
Callus grinned, stifling a laugh.
"Corporal Michael Callus. This is Private Daniella Auburn, and that is PFC Zimmermann. Call him Ox. We do."
"I see. I am Junior Preacher Timothy Lazero."
"Good to see you, Father Lazero."
"The Emperor Protects, Corporal," the preacher returned, beginning to grin.
Callus fired back at the Orks again.
"No, no I am afraid he clearly does not."
"Excuse me, Corporal?"
Callus was suddenly angry.
"Where is the Emperor now? Where are the angels to come save us now, Father Lazero?" Callus spat out the word.
The Preacher was clearly flustered at this unexpected turn of the conversation.
"I-I-. You listen here, trooper, according to Imperial edict #738-B, it is a high crime and misdemeanor to question the teachings of the Temple of the Savior Emperor."
"Oh me, oh my, father, I sure am sorry," Callus mocked, cruely.
He didn't care. He was angry. He was angry at the universe. He was angry at Colonel Marcus Flaviun for stealing his life. He was angry at the Imperium for sending him into this hell hole when he had been promised he was going home. He was angry at the Emperor for throwing him into the meat grinder his whole life and now discarding him, when, in all his infinite wisdom, he wasn't worth it anymore. Corporal Michael Callus was angry.
***
"What exactly is that?" Moscardi asked his ensign.
"Uhm...it appears to be a yacht, sir. It is attempting to hail us."
"The Orks aren't firing at it."
"No sir, they are not."
Moscardi stared for a moment, stroking his chin.
"Destroy it."
"Yes, sir."
***
"So, running isn't going to be necessary after all!" Colonel Flaviun said to himself, taking a drag on his cigar and grinning. "It appears that the Imperium has decided to arrive. Hail them."
"Yes, sir" His astropath said.
Flaviun sat down in his chair, picking up a bottle of whiskey to pour himself as his astropath made contact with the naval battle group. He stopped to read the label.
A fine, fine vintage the Lord Governor had kept on his yacht. A fine vintage indeed. He was going to enjoy drinking it.
His yacht pulled up directly in front of the prow of the Imperial battleship Sol Invictus in order to better facilitate psychic contact.
Flaviun looked up at it for a moment, relatively disinterested. It was a rather fine craft. A deadly, floating cathedral, riding upon the waves of space, destroying the enemies of His Most Holy Majesty. For a moment, a twinge of the old Imperial patriotism stirred in Colonel Marcus Flaviun's heart. He almost wanted to salute.
Then, in the space of a single blink of the eye, the battleship opened fire, and he was completely, utterly obliterated.
When he opened his eyes again, the Emperor was not smiling.
***
"Where are the legions of the Emperor's angels now, Father? Where are they, come to save we beleaguered champions of humanity from the threat? I've never seen them before. I've seen plenty of good men die, for no real reason, but I've never seen great celestial angels come to save us all!"
"I-I-I-I..."
"That's right, go ahead, preacher. Always the same with you religious types. You can't shut up when you're extolling on the virtues of the Imperial citizen, trapped up in your comfortable studies, and once it hits the fan, you don't have a single thing to say. You're all the same. You sicken me. There aren't any angels, preacher man. There isn't nobody coming. Not now, not ever."
Callus dropped the cigarette and smashed his foot on it, grinding it into the ground as he spit.
Turning from the stammering Ecclesiarch, he hefted his lasgun, squeezing off some of his last rounds. He saw one of the green skins fall with a satisfying thud. Just one more to drag down into hell with him.
"The Emperor Protects," the preacher finally managed to stammer out.
Callus tensed, then turned.
"He's not protecting us now, is he? No, he's left as all alone to sink or swim on our own. I don't see the Emperor here, do you? I don't see His Most Holy Majesty coming to save us. Where is he, priest? He isn't here."
That was when the angels came.
Hive World Terra