"What use is fury without the Emperor's guidance?" -Chaplain Geros, Black Templars 4th Crusade Fleet
----
In orbit, they fight on.
"Glory, glory! We will not bend!"
Despite the loss of almost half their Company to accursed champions. Despite the loss of their Captain. They fight on despite it.
They will not die in glory. But they will certainly find it.
Task Force Angel - Advance!
Rolled 70 vs 60, 1 Degree of Success!
Casualty DC 60
Hardly shattered, Task Force Angel was invigorated by the loss of their Captain and almost half their number. What were these losses compared to what came before? What did it matter, when they could reinforce themselves? What else can they do but fulfill their duty and honor the ones that died before?
So they charged. So they pushed. And so they carved a bloody swath through the next five rings of the orbiting station, assaulting at such a pace even the Crimson Crusaders swarming over the exterior of the station were pressed to keep up. And it is said that Captain Hale Cicero, Commander of the 8th Company, was so impressed by this display of renewed power that he committed another squad to support the Lamenters, and form the alloyed force that will tear these heretics from limb to limb.
Until they arrived at the last ring.
----
There was one point of access inside the fortress, a single corridor heavily fortified with enough heavy weapons to crack a Chapter in half. There was no cover inside the corridor, no alternate points of entry. There was only forward into death. For mortal forces, this would be suicide. For the Space Marines… This was also suicide.
If not for the wondrous tech-arcana of the Mag-Boot.
"This is Cicero. Assault!"
Task Force Angel - Casualties
Lamenters: Rolled 19 vs 60, 4 Degrees of Failure
40 Casualties, 1 Notable Injury - Chaplain Haldix
Crimson Crusaders: 41 vs 60, 1 Degree of Failure
10 Casualties, No Notable Injuries
What would transpire was not a tale of heroism, or victory despite the odds, or of a great hero seizing upon opportunity to become legend. It was simply war, gritty and simple. Space Marines attacked the chokepoint from all angles. The 8th Company cut their way through with chainswords and power blades. The Lamenters kept the enemy suppressed with heavy weaponry. And when the time was right, they surged as one.
But they bled for every inch. Even taking them by surprise, even turning the battlefield into a three dimensional void-filled cacophony of death… They bled. A full forty Lamenters were sent into the throes of the Sus-An Membrane by the assault. Ten Crimson Crusaders were savaged by the battle. Even Chaplain Haldix of the Lamenters, who held his Company together in the absence of his Captain, nearly died when a glancing Lascannon blast nearly boiled his hearts. It is another lesson that the young Lamenters must learn; even in success, fate demands you bleed. And it is a duty you must bear, for the Imperium is watered with the blood of heroes.
But today, at least, for this battle… There will be no dead heroes. They will all live.
And the survivors surged into the last ring, surrounding the command centre, to decapitate traitor void command and finally secure orbital supremacy. The Lamenters 2nd and the Crimson 8th overran the meager resistance that remained, while Captain Cicero and his handpicked elite made for the command center itself.
It will end here, blood or not blood. For the Emperor demands it.
----
They arrive, the lights flickering red hazard warnings. Cicero and Fury-Five, joined by fifteen Lamenters, step into the circular hub. It is clearly designed with fortification in mind, a central podium protected by barriers and a singular point of entry. Had they not meltagunned all resistance before this, the fight might even be a challenge.
And there he is. The Lord himself. Cloaked in shadow and wielding a boltgun, ever twisting, ever shifting. Bearing a craftsmanship Forgemaster Osiron drilled into their heads through decades of study and painful rote, both of its heresy and its danger. The smiths of Kai always were masters of wargear of every kind.
"So you come now…" The Lord hisses. He takes one step after another, measured movements, carefully covered by his barriers. "The weapon told me you would come… YOU SLAVES!"
The Lamenters reel from the Lord's sudden bark, but Cicero is not cowed. He has faced the Kinslayer. This is nothing to that monster. "Duty empowers us, heretic. You will not live past this day."
"HAH! They taunt us, boltgun!" The Lord pauses, sniggering all the while. "Yes… YES! We shall! Their folly will season their demise!"
"Get ready," Cicero says in Baali, and at once his retinue fan out.
Chaos Champion Identified!
"KNOW ME BY MY BEST NAME, SLAVES! FOR I AM!"
ISVARN, THE THUNDER LO―
The walls, ceiling, and floors suddenly explode into chaff and debris, and black-red space marines flood out from every angle. Cicero sees one of them, his weapon impossible to mistake. Astorath, Redeemer of the Lost.
"HoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORUUSSSSSSSS!"
The Death Company comes!
Initiative!
Isvarn: Rolled 34
Astorath the Grim: Rolled 60 +30, 90
Lemartes: Rolled 90
Astorath
Attack Held - 2 Counterattacks!
"Lemartes!" The old Angel shouts, the Executioner's Axe crossed against his chest. Lemartes howls. The blood rage unleashed, he has no words. Only death.
The Guardian of the Lost charges ahead upon burning wings. His Jump Pack is tearing itself apart from the stress. The air bursts and shudders against their armor but they do not avert their eyes.
He swings.
Lemartes
Rolled 12 64 vs 50, Hit!
The Blood Crozius: 5 88 vs 20, 6 Degrees of Success: Instant Death!
And the Traitor Warlord falls to his knees and then his chest. His head joins it in pitter-patters not long after. Nothing remains of Isvarn but a cooling body and a liquefied skull.
Lemartes controls himself with gritted teeth, his battle over. He steps aside. A changing Astorath walks over, and shatters the Kai Gun with the butt of his axe.
"Apologies, my brothers," Astorath the Grim says with uncharacteristic levity. "I shall promise you the next foul champion we find."
Cicero looks at Welkis, and then at the Lamenters around him. "Point to you, Chaplain Lemartes," he says flatly.
The Doomed Chaplain nods curtly and walks away.
Orbit Secure!
Crimson Crusaders 8th Company, Lamenters 2nd Company and Death Company Available for Deep Strike!
