The seven day siege, fiction compo entry

[Chainaxe]

Hi all and here goes:

Chapter 1: The coming doom, Prologue


Mathias slammed another gas canister into his plasma pistol and leaned around the corner, only to be met by a hail of las-fire from the spaceport’s guards. With practiced ease he shot all six of his foes, thanking the divine forces of the Dark Gods for his excellent armour as he scarcely registered the hits he had taken. With a gesture he indicated his squad to follow him over the blazing corpses.

The Iron Warriors had made planetfall in the early evening, dropping via dreadclaw right in the middle of the airfield, badly crippling the icy fortress-world’s air power. Warsmith Isuis had ordered his second in command, Mathias, to spearhead the landing and take the spaceport so they could bring in heavy armour for the second stage of the attack.

The landing had taken the imperial forces by surprise and the defenders were massacred, the last remaining resistance were holed up in the control tower. One of them, Sergeant Mason of the Hartorian 2nd “Iron Fists”, was very unhappy. There were a number of reasons for his current mood; the fact that the tower’s defences were on the brink of being overrun was not actually top of the list. Instead he was cursing his luck. What in the Emperor’s name did a chaos warhost want on Hartoria? It was a small ice-world somewhere near the eye, where some Emperor-forsaken general had decided to place a remote fortress-monitoring station.

What a pointless place, he thought, nothing here of value to anyone, least of all chaos scum. That still was not top of his list though: he had just gotten word that no relief force was to be dispatched from the citadel. Great. His friends and commanding officers had abandoned him here, apparently the Aridian 1st was on their way, set to arrive in one week and they needed to hold out till then, so they “couldn’t risk” a rescue.

Mathias strapped the final melta-bomb to the blast-door, setting it for 60 seconds. Quickly he doubled back, commanding his havocs cover the soon to be open door.
With a spectacular explosion the obstacle ceased to exist, revealing yet another sealed door. He swore as he tapped his micro-bead online.

“This is Mathias, were the hell is my support?”

“On its way lord, send those pathetic corpse-slaves’ souls warpward.”

With a cruel smile Mathias produced a small metal disk from a recess in his armour.. He pushed a small button on its surface and chucked it at the door. With a blinding flash the teleport homer was replaced by a baroque leviathan. Mathias didn’t even need to tell it what to do, obliterator-brother Braxius stormed up to the door and ripped it from its frame in a single easy movement.

The hulking, mutated horror was met by a hail of fire, but refused to go down, even when Sergeant Mason shot it twice in the head with his plasma pistol. It had wasted no time in laying into his men, as soon as it had broken in its arms transformed into sadistic guns, spewing a torrent of firepower into the confined corridors.

Outside Mathias’s helmet-com buzzed into life.

“Mathias, we have a problem. We intercepted a ground based transmission saying that a large fleet is on its way, they will be here by the end of the week”

Even after a thousand years of servitude the Warsmith’s voice still sent a shiver down Mathias’s spine. “Then we have no choice Warsmith, we must withdraw.”

“No, we have a week”, snapped Isuis.

“You want us to take a fortress in 7 days? It cannot be done. Not with the forces at my disposal.” muttered Mathias.

“You would doubt me?”

“No lord, but how can I do that which is asked from me? I see no way.”

“We will apply force from outside and sow the seeds of treachery from inside, Iron within, iron without”

Mathias smiled.

[Chainaxe]

Chapter 2: Pravus Excrucio, Day 1

Mason watched as his last five men were consumed by the malformed abomination’s guns and turned to flee, firing as he ran. He ducked into the control room to reload, gasping as he looked out the window
.
The first chaos lander was departing, a massive daemon-ship large enough to swallow a small city. But the lander was not what caught Mason’s attention. It was the city it left behind.

Pravus Excrucio - Wicked Torture. The Warlord-Class daemon-titan was huge. It was as a massive black beast, adorned everywhere with cruel guns and meters of armour housing void shield generators. Both of its street-long arms housed colossal mega-weapons, all the firepower needed to obliterate the citadel’s defences. Great towers sat upon its shoulders, housing whole artillery batteries. As it stood up it let out an anguished cry that shook the very earth upon which it stood. The possessing sprit was at last free to rain hell on all that stood in its path.

It was the last thing Mason ever saw, as the monster incinerated the control tower with a single hellstorm blast.

Mathias studied the map intently. The fortress spanned the length of some icy mountain range and was comprised of three main parts: the citadel at the one end and the monitoring array at he other, they were joined by a huge curtain wall protected by artillery batteries, mainly earthshakers.

*****************************************************
[()------------------------------------------------------------------------{0}]

*= mountains, 0 = array, {0} = citadel, ---- = curtain wall.

It was defended by two under strength infantry companies, Hartorian 2nd “Iron Fists” and the Hartorian 4th “Steel Claws” as well as the Hartorian 5th armoured company – the only major thorn in the Warsmith’s side. Thus Pravus Excrucio was to play a vital part in the coming battle. Even with the titan’s support it was still not a sure bet; Mathias knew the citadel housed a volcano cannon titian–killer defence grid.

He put the dataslate down, walked out of his tent and turned to one of his lesser lieutenants. “Prepare the defences. Set up a false line just out of shell range, we will lure out and crush their armour. Then this world is ours. Work the slaves hard, we need to bee ready by morning.”

“Yes master.”

General-Garrison Commander Thulman sighed. “So we have no air-power whatsoever? What about the marauder bomber wings housed on level 17?”

One of the younger officers the briefing table stood up. “It doesn’t matter! They aren’t enough, keep them here until 5th are ready to counter-attack, then fly out in support.”

Thulman turned to the 5th AC commander, Kelth. “So you still want to sally out?”

“The plains are flat and stretch out for miles from the walls. The Perfect place to bring some hot steel death to the heretical scum!”

Mathias watched the night fall from the false defensive line. Already it looked like a proper trench, with decoy supply trenches, stakes, pillboxes and dugouts. Though it looked so real, no iron warrior would build a trench system that left its flank exposed. Yet these corpse-dogs would buy it. He knew they were blind and longed for the coming battle.

Thulman looked sceptically at the tech-priest. “Are you sure this thing is in working order Magos?”

“Of course” replied the hunched, red-robed figure, gesturing to the massive weapon platform.

It hadn’t been fired for over a thousand years, if ever. Flanked on either side by earthshakers, raised another 15 feet in the air, it had a commanding view of the battlefield. The Magos muttered the codes of holy awakening; the tech-priest was priming the weapon system, just in case. Thulman ran his hand over the charging mechanism of the volcano-cannon, wondering what morning would bring. The Magos didn’t even notice the melta-bomb. It wasn’t armed, after all.

[Chainaxe]

Chapter 3: Hot Steel Annihilation, Day 2

Guardsman Kendral was both shocked at the speed which the trenches had been built and the fact there were at such an angle that anyone leaving via the monitoring station gate would already by rolling up their flanks. He nearly tripped as he ran to his seniors in the low dawn-light.

“We must attack now! Soon they will see their mistake and compensate! We MUST strike now, this minute!” Thulman smashed his fist against the table, throwing up a shower of splinters.

“Emperor curse you! My tanks aren’t ready yet, blast it!” Kelth shook his head. “You are right though, I’ve never seen a better time for the tanks of the 5th AC to prove their worth.”

Prove their worth as useless lumps of steel, that’s what they’ll do, thought
Thulman.

From his position in the trench, Mathias saw the basilisks raise their barrels, preparing to fire. At last the battle was to be joined.

The artillery fired a constant barrage, even though the trenches were well out of range, throwing huge clouds of dust into the air, providing cover for the tanks as the gate opened. Kelth, from upon his baneblade, signalled the advance with a cry of “For the Emperor and mankind”! The armoured company charged forward across the plain, not knowing their doom waited just behind their target.

Halfway across the plain Kleth ordered the artillery to stop, powering past their fire range.

He started the bombardment by firing a single shell. Even though he was on the move, Kelth’s gunner was an expert and it landed directly on a dugout. Not being built strongly, the entire trench system collapsed. Only then did Kelth realise what he had done.

The heart stopping, blood curdling roar was even heard in the tunnels under the citadel. Guardsman Kendral screamed as the massive thing crashed over the hill into the midst of the imperial tanks. From the walls it looked as if all his nightmares had taken form, a huge avatar of all things evil.

Behind it came the chaos armour, predator tanks and demonic defilers. The trap was sprung.

Pravus Excrucio bellowed as he destroyed the baneblade with a single blast form his plasma annihilator, sending its wreck flying back toward the citadel. From every conceivable place missiles and shells poured, torching the vehicles of the false emperor left and right. It took no heed of the ordnance smashing into it, and along with the IW tanks, shredded the 5th armoured company.

Mathias watched from the hill as all hell broke lose, having abandoned the trenches when he saw the tanks coming his way. With a hand gesture he ordered the chaos hydras forward, having noticed the jet-fire as the bombers launched from the bastion with his enhanced vision.

Tearing its attention away from its prey, Pravus Excrucio sent a single blast at the wall from its long-barrelled hellstorm cannon, tearing away the ancient stonework as if it were paper.

From the top of the walls a single figure watched the beast smash the tanks aside and nearly breach the walls. They couldn’t stand another volley. The red-robed man pressed the rune of activation on the panel. With the hiss of super heated air the volcano cannon sent a bolt of the Emperor’s wrath straight at the chaos titian. It was not to be the Magos’s hour however, as the discharge set off the melta-bomb, removing the tech-priest and his ancient weapon.

The shot hit home though and the damage was done. It struck Pravus Excrucio in the left leg, buckling the huge steel pillar, incinerating thousands of chaos warriors. The Warlord fell into a knelling position, unable to raise its guns high enough to return fire. Unfortunately the volcano cannon was even more disabled, now just a lump of twisted metal.

“Get me the glory boys; I have a job for them” sighed Thulman, looking out at the wrecks of his tanks and the crippled titan. Trenches and dugouts were already being built around it, and he could see repair scaffolding being raised.

[Chainaxe]

Chapter 4: The Warsmith, Night 2

Silently the storm troopers slipped through the secret gate, an ordinary-looking plant that split in two. There were only ten of them, but they were the best and they new it. Sergeant Regan signalled his squad to advance. “Phoenix pattern people, meltaguns at the front, Cassias cover with scope. Move out!”

The unit crept forwards, twice stopping while Cassias watched patrols go past through his sniper rifle’s scope. He was glad the patrols we composed of cultists, the Iron Warriors were clearly above night watch.

Suddenly Hawke, the man on point, grunted in pain, barley stifling a scream. His leg had caught in a line of bared razor-wire that had somehow sliced through his thigh-pad. Worse the wire was suddenly alive, coiling back and squeezing his leg, trying to sever the poor mans limb. Sergeant Regan ran to his meltagunner’s aid, blowtorch in hand, but even as he cut the man free, another strand of daemon-wire erupted from the ground, wrapping around Hawke’s arm. Regan could see he was about to scream. Shaking his head, the sergeant raised his hellpistol.

Matthias bisected yet another cultist, the unfortunate man’s blood following down the altar. To calm the tortured machine spirit in the daemon titian would take many more lives. He raised the knife as a shirtless cultist stepped forward, ready to die.

Cassias trained his sniper-rifle on the iron giant’s head and fired. He grinned as the target slumped; most of its power-armoured helmet was disintegrated.
The cultists, shocked at the sight of their dying leader, charged at the storm troopers madly.

Regan was ready. Shouting “For the Emperor!” he signalled the attack. From every bush and behind every snow-mound poured a torrent of hellblasts and melta shots, culling the heretics in a blaze o imperial justice.

Regan and half his squad broke off as planned, going over the titian’s foot and into its leg.

Behind a nearby hill a thunderkawk was landing. From the viewpoint the massive monster-terminator could see the flashes of hellweapons, hear the screams of the dying, smell their blood and feel their soul-screams as they perished. Thus Warsmith Isuis came to this world like the spore of a virulent plague.

That’s all I can post, 2486 words. Look in the fiction forum soon for the rest, thanks for reading, hope I didn’t make too many typos, remember to vote and once more thanks!