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| My Writings Four; The Vecarian Revival | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 3 2009, 05:31 AM (218 Views) | |
| Haseo | Feb 3 2009, 05:31 AM Post #1 |
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The Terror of Death
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The Vecarian Revival The Prologue The skies above are luminated by a combination of red and orange hues as the Bulwark of Vecaria falls through the atmosphere. Small parts the size of Rhino APCs fall from the burning wreckage. The people of Aarya look up in awe and horror as the Emperor Class Battleship descends toward them. They are to awestruck to realize they are in danger and only those with their wits about them will live to tell of the tragic spectacle that they witnessed. The ship begins to glow red as the atmospheric friction from re-entrance from high orbit heats up the already burning hull. Thousands of men are instantly incinerated and those fortunate to not be near the wounded decks begin to perspire and realize that they are no safer and that their doom approaches. As the whole of Aarya watches the Bulwark of Vecaria makes it final gesture of resistance to its inevitable death. Five heavier troop carriers are ejected from the remaining undamaged flight decks. Followed closely behind them are four void black Thunderhawks, brimming to capacity with their deadly cargo of the Imperium's finest. They land in a remote prairie approximately thirty klicks from the Hive City that they were enroute to take back when their ship had been assailed on all sides by the heretic's ships. Unbeknownst to them, the ship had successfully accomplished its tasked mission and could now die in peace. The ensuing impact was enough to level two mountain ranges and incinerate thousands of acres of forest and millions of the small animals that inhabited its depths. The people watch in horror as a bright explosion, the colour white, follows and then their is silence as a mushroom shaped cloud explodes into existence. The ship makes it final warcry in desperation as its reactors explode. The men of the Vecarian 43rd watch in admiration as the mighty warship dies. In automatic syncronization, they all salute and six shots are fired for the brave captain and Adeptus Mechanicus personnel who had stayed behind to live out the last few moments of glory with their beloved ship. They each feel a grief at the loss of such a worthy crew, but they snap quickly back to reality and begin to fortify their immediate surroundings. Knowing that they will not be able to reuse the damaged troop carriers, the surviving Adeptus Mechanicus tech-priests begin to scuttle the ships and break them down for use within the Imperial's temporary fort. Men frantically go back and forth, carrying sheets of metal to be used in the barricades and some with spades to dig out trenches for outpost reasons. All throughout this, Lieutenant Colonel John Pallor smiles as he watches his regiment with pride. They were brave men indeed and had been raised to adapt in any situation. Originally from the cavern planet of Vecaria, they were a tougher breed than most Imperial Regiments. The current situation had been handled with a tactically cool head, and already the men were setting up automatic autocannons and lascannons. To the left and right of the fort, pillboxes with heavy stubbers were being set up and men could be seen truffling back and forth in the quickly dug out trenches. The air was awhirl with dirt, sweat, determination, and a few random choice words here and there. The silver gleam of las-carbines shined everywhere as those were the choice weapons of the Vecarian 43rd. John moved a hand to his side where his own las-carbine lay holstered. With a a nalwood stock from the now extinct world of Tanith and a reverberating spring, the weapon was light and could pack a punch without the feedback of a bruised shoulder. He also moved his hand to his right leg where his power sword, Schism, lay sheathed and below that his Dragoonian combat knife, the famous weapon of the Vecarian. Almost every Imperial Regiment had a particular brand of war knife they used but the Vecarian preferred the light weight, serrated edged Dragoonian knife. They were unbelievedly sharp and hurt like a frakking ***** if you had to pull it out of your body. He closed his eyes to the activity that was all around him and thought back to the previous week and the tragic events that occured... Two Days Earlier "Again, you filthy dogs. My son could run it better than you and he's three," Commisar Simon Cross yelled. The men of the Vecarian 43rd, aka, The Honour Dragoons ran the rigourous training course that their beloved Lieutenant and Commisar had designed specifically for them. It involved all basic areas of combat using guns situated with lasers to "tag and bag" opposing squads in varying tactical situations. The commisar smiled to himself as he noticed the top two squad names, Squad Parker and Squad Skeith. They were constantly eradicating other squads and tying with each other in the drills. "That is enough. Magos, please be as kind enough to pause the program," he turned to the Adeptus Magos beside him for a look of confirmation,"I would like all squads besides Parker's and Skeith's to leave the training area. Go get cleaned up and report to the medicae's deck for testing. That will be all. Praise be Vecaria," he added and smiled faintly to himself as the men cheered at the last part of his announcement. He watched them file out, boasting and scorning each other about the previous engagements. He then returned his attention to the two squads in front of him. Squad Parker consisted of ten men, there was Sergeant Allan Parker, First Class Petty Officers Drew Blake, and Anthony Thomas, Privates Vrad Hellar, Carlon Thrax, and Hoje Kingston, and finally Ensigns Frat Turner, Lewis Staley, Connor King, and then their was Corporal Tommy Heath. These men were the elite of the Vecarian and the rival squad to the elite Squad Skieth. Squad Skieth consisted of Master Sergeant Magus Skieth, First Class Ensign Tarvos Wellington, First Class Privates Hagran Machina, Calo Novek, Vron Kanor, and Lithio Grenolds, then there was he Ensigns, Cobola Krakos, Peter Woofter, Travis Scimmons, and Sub-Commander Rex Authra. These two squads were the very best in guerrilla warfare that the 43rd had to offer and had many honours and recommendations from the Lord Commander and Lord General for their heroic acts during the Vecarians countless campaigns across the Dagon System. Refocuing to the task at hand Commisar Cross began to address the two veteran squads. "You have all heard the rumours I presume? Of the hive city of Aarya going rebel? Well it is true and you two squads are the advance strike forces that Lieutenant Colonel Pallor has decided to send ahead of the main strike force. You will be aided by the eight man tactical Space Marine Squad from the Fifth Company Raven Guard. They have been tasked to help us retake the city. I wish you all good luck men." Sergeant Allan Parker looked at his men through scarred and squinted eyes. His blue eyes scanned his men with a look of pride. They had been chosen to fight along side the famed Raven Guard. He grunted to himself and began to tune his carbine. He painstakingly took it apart and reconnected the parts with the love of a newborn's parent. He did so for the next few minutes until he heard approaching footsteps. He looked up to the dark skinned face of Magus Skeith. He spat on the floor and said in a raspy voice,"What is your kind doing here with us, convict?" The man known as Skieth laughed, it was a bone chilling murderous cackle that sent shivers down Parker's spine. "We the same as you mate, but a little aggression gets us called convicts? Why the hostility Allan? We on the same side mate," Skeith replied lowly. Allan despised the man for his entirety. The man had been a convict back on Vecaria for slaughtering ten men who had stole from him, in cold blood. He could understand vengeance but what he had done to those men afterwards was monstrous. Parker tried as hard as he could to keep his men assigned in seperate places from the hive filths unit but alas it seemed that the 'Reaper' had other ideas for him. He returned his attention to his gun and whistled a melodious tune.... The Lieutenant Colonel searched the void with narrow and analyzing eyes. His hands clenched behind his back and his head up straight, he was the very image of an Imperial Officer that the others made him out to be. He watched with a hint of amusement as the bridge officers scurried back and forth preparing the stealth transports for the advanced recon teams. He had specifically chosen these squads based on their covert and urban skills. The Captain of the Raven Guard 5th Company had done so as well. He looked around the bridge as to avert his senses to the continured frantic activity. The bridge was spartan like in appearance, with little or no decor and a gleaming clean metal floor that reflected his visage back at him. His well built, tall frame reflected from the floor towards him. Registering in at 165 lbs. and six foot two he was a beast of a man. He had no shortage of muscle and he was quite sure that many of the Vecarians shared that aspect for they were all former miners of their homeworld and physically built to survive. His emerald green eyes glittered in the bridges lights and he pulled a hand up to stroke the small soul patch of hair upon his chin. The rest of his face was clean shaven and he felt nothing but a little tiredness from lack of slumber in the recent days. He couldn't sleep on these frakking warships. He had to feel the cold temperature of a cavern floor and the musky scent of stale air to be totally comfortable. He would be there soon though. In about a day he would take the res of his men and descend upon Hive City Tertiary and destroy those that had turned from the Emperor's graces.... |
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8:55 AM Jul 11