+++Chapter 5+++
Smashing the butt of his Plasma Pistol into a cultist soldier, Klast knocked the drooling lunatic to the floor, lashing out with an armoured boot he cracked the man's skull. No sooner had the cultist been killed than another took his place, swinging his Lasgun like a club. Klast ducked under the weapon and rammed his Pistol into the cultist's crutch, gobbets of superheated energy searing through the man's torso and punching out of his back as Klast pulled the trigger. Yet still the enemy came on, a relentless tide of crazed bodies, behind which he could see the cackling Black Legion Sorcerer and his entourage of Chaos marines urging the mob onwards. His squad, and fellow Shadowhawks from Assault Teams Furious and Denial, battled in a line against the flood of bodies as they tryed to reach the chaos marines behind. He cursed to himself, amazed at how easily they had been caught out. Klast had returned to the ruined farm leading three teams of Shadowhawks after the company's Shadowsniper had ordered an immediate strike. The cultists had begun constructing a large altar, not so worrying in itself, but the new defences and the arrival of a convoy of trucks led by a Black Legion Rhino was of somewhat greater concern. Around two hundred of what had appeared to be prisoners in dirty brown robes were herded from the back of the trucks by eight Black Legionnaires and a Sorcerer, the prisoners were then bundled around the altar and left sitting around under guard by the cultist soldiers in their blue fatigues. Garan had presumed they were destined for a mass sacrifice, while he didn't know what the purpose was he had little choice other than to stop it. A Sorcerer from the Black Legion, an altar and two hundred sacrifices could only have a bad outcome. The Shadowhawks had gone straight in with a hot drop by Thunderhawk gunship, their three squads deploying quickly and then charging towards the Black Legion. Unfortunately the 'prisoners' had then thrown off their robes revealing the blue fatigues and Lasguns hidden beneath, a mass of warriors between the Shadowhawks and their Black Legion prey. Klast cursed again, annoyed with his earlier over confidence.
++Step back, Frag grenades!++ Klast barked the order into the com-net. In one smooth motion each Shadowhawk lept back away from the horde of cultists, drew a Frag grenade from their belt dispensers, primed and then hurled it into the oncoming enemy. A chain of fragmentation explosions snapped through the onrushing cultists, blood, gore and torn body parts spattering into the air. Momentarily stunned the cultists advanced stuttered, Klast reacted instantly.
++Hold your ground, rapid fire!++ The Shadowhawks Bolters spat a hail of rounds into the cultists, flesh exploding as the bolts detonated within their targets. The chemical stench of promethium filled the air as two marines from the Assault Teams carrying flamers launched streams of liquid fire into the cultists, their victims screamed, limbs flailing as their bodies burned. Streams of heat agitated air roared past Klast as Selan and Dragarns's Meltas incinerated more cultists, the anti-tank weapons drastically over powered against such weak targets. The Shadowhawks kept shooting and half the cultists were felled in mere moments. The impetus of the cultist attack was destroyed along with their morale, the remaining cult soldiers broke fleeing in the face of the Shadowhawk's fire only to be caught in a crossfire betwee them and the Black Legion behind who mercilessly cut them down.
The two marine factions started at each other, oblivious to the blood slicked bodies and steaming remains between them. The corrupted forms of the Black Legionnaires in their trophy adorned black and silver armour a striking contrast to the understated dull browns of the Shadowhawk's camouflage. Klast weighed up the situation, his Tactical Squad and two six marine Assault Teams armed with Bolt Pistols and Chainswords against eight Black Legionnaires and a Sorcerer. Eighteen against nine, the odds would be good if it wasn't for the Sorcerer and the hulking brute with the Lightning Claws and strangely swirling armour, Klast knew a Champion of Chaos when he saw one. He opened a private channel to the Thunderhawk now lurking in the atmosphere above. ++This is Klast, be ready for a quick pick up at DZ33.++
In the same moment Corvex also assessed his opponents. Their armour's lack of markings and the quite obviously removed Imperial Aquila confirming his earlier presumptions, surely rebels or traitors of some form. He was puzzled though, there were no signs of the stigma of chaos, no non essential items or trophys and that camouflage scheme, most unusual. After 10,000 years of battling across the galaxy it was rare for him to find a truely new challenge, they would have to be properly tested. Slowly he turned to Asturias a sly smile breaking across his face. "Let me try them..." The Sorcerer looked at Corvex, his face hidden within his armoured mask, black robes part covering his antique power armour, only his arms and hands visible as they gripped a plain silver staff before him. He nodded to Corvex. "As you wish."
Klast watched as the Champion of Chaos slowly stepped forward, inadvertently crushing cultist bodies into the earth. He moved his head from side to side stretching his neck muscles the clicking of his bones audible, raising a clawed hand he beckoned the Shadowhawks onwards as he spoke. "I am Corvex of the Black Legion, servant of Chaos and murderer of worlds. Who now will accept my challenge?"
Klast shrugged. ++Shoot the idiot.++ At his order the Shadowhawks fired. A startling flash of pure white light burst outwards from Corvex as the barrage of gunfire smashed into him, dazzling the Shadowhawks without their protective helmets on. Klast himself barely shielded his eyes in time, the image lingering on his retina. Cursing he realised Corvex must have a Conversion field, an extremely rare force field from ancient days that turned hits into a flare of energy. Corvex laughed and then turned his head and nodded towards the Sorcerer Asturias. Momentarily Asturias glared at Corvex, then began muttering incoherently in some dark tongue. He raised his staff and pointed towards Team Furious. With a hiss streams of red light streamed from his staff, swarming over their targets. The marines trembled and shook as if standing admidst an earthquake, their armour began to bulge and stretch, thousands of cracks running across the ceramite. In a rapid series of wet thuds the marines of Team Furious exploded, chunks of ceramite and gore spraying over the remaining Shadowhawks, a red mist drifting to the ground all that remained of their comrades.
++Scatter! Move and fire!++ Klast bellowed into the com-net. The Shadowhawks spread out, firing into the Black Legion as the Chaos Marines charged towards them brandishing chain swords and Bolters held in a pistol style grip. The Sorcerer raised his staff again to unleash his awesome power once more, but was interrupted as a Dominator round ripped into him, bursting his torso apart. Asturias stared at the gaping whole going right through him, briefly looking round to utter a final curse, it was too late. His corpse slumped to the ground.
From his new position Garan aquired a new target, a charging Black Legionnaire. He felt the neural feedback from his Dominator as a scratching sensation in his mind, the rifle was not designed to be fired in rapid succession, it was an assassination tool, not a close support weapon. The impulse link provided almost unerring accuracy, but when fired repeatedly over a short period of time the rifle's user would get hit by a backwash of neural feedback, in the worst cases Shadowsnipers had been known to black out. Garan believed the rifle's unrivaled power justified the risk, he took the shot and removed the Legionnaire's head. Garan grimaced as the feeback scraped through his skull, after shaking his head clear he searched for another target, but the combat had turned into a sprawling melee and he couldn't get a clear shot. Garan relaxed and waited for an opportunity.
Corvex thrust his right Lightning Claw into a Shadowhawk's chest plate and ripped the mono-molecular power blades up splitting the marine's head into segments. Pushing the body to the ground he vaulted over and slashed out with both claws decapitating one marine and slicing off the left hand of another. His opponent swung the whirring Chainsword gripped in his remaining hand towards Corvex's head, but Corvex parried the blow with ease and punched his other hand's claws through the marine's visor. His brother Legionnaires were fighting the rest of this assault armed squad leaving Corvex free to attack the Tactical squad. His Conversion field flared as it repelled the beam of a Melta-gun, he rolled sideways checking for the gunfire's source, dodging more incoming fire. Corvex moved like quicksilver as Bolts exploded in the gore covered ground around him, the air sizzled with Melta fire, but the Shadowhawks could not find their target. In a second he was amongst them slashing out with his claws, these marines were sharper than his earlier victims and all but one avoided his attacks, one of the Melta-gun carrying marines impaled upon his claws. Before he could renew his attack thick white smoke and electro static exploded around him as a Blind grenade detonated at his feet.
++Smoke and vanish!++ While they had felled some of the Black Legionnaires, the Chaos Champion had moved like a daemon butchering Shadowhawks as if they were puny guardsmen. Seeing the ease with which Selan was killed he realised they stood little chance against him armed as they were, Klast had hurled a Blind grenade and ordered the retreat. As he gave the order the rest of the squad dropped more grenades, smoke billowing over the combatants, the Shadowhawks backing off into the smoke as Garan provided covering fire.
Corvex turned around looking about, as the smoke had cleared he found himself alone amongst a field of bodies, the strange marines nowhere to be seen. His fellow Black Legionnaires had been cut down, what had happened to them in the veil of smoke he didn't know, but now they lay dead from massive head wounds. The camouflaged marines had vanished like ghosts, it reminded him of fighting alongside the Alpha Legion on Cyrius XI. Scanning the horizon he searched for any sign of movement but could find nothing. He felt cold anger building up within him, this had been a costly engagement and he would have revenge. Heading back to his bike he opened a channel to the Spite of Chaos. ++This is Corvex, Asturias is dead, command is mine. Prepare for deployment.++
By Bootae