Battle for Pandorax II
Brother sergeant Tiberius ran across the torn landscape, a horde of his brothers behind him. They were the Flesh Tearers, space marines, the best of the best. With a great cry of, "For the Emperor!" they launched themselves into their enemy, a tide of metal, flesh and fury. The heretics wailed in fear as they were torn limb from limb, dousing their holy vanquishers in a coat of slick, crimson blood. Tiberius swung his chain sword into the gut of a mutated sorcerer. The thing's two heads cried out in pain as the blade shredded his abdomen, chunks of offal flying in all directions. Tiberius revelled in the gory horror of it all, for he only existed to kill the enemies of his God-Emperor. Now the first trench line was cleared of the un-pure, and Tiberius called his squad to him.
"Brothers, today we shall wipe the archenemy from this planet and cleanse it in His name!" Nine armoured giants roared their approval back at him, their armoured, eight foot tall bodies filling the bunker. Tiberius proceeded to order his men. "Kratos, Calgar, you shall destroy the heavy artillery in the third line. Quintus, Felix, and Octavian, you shall aid Brother Tarquinii's squadron on the right flank, and the rest of you shall accompany me to the heretics' excuse for a fortress."
Setting out with his remaining four brothers, Tiberius charged towards the ferrocrete stronghold which formed the HQ of the enemy. Running was no hindrance to the post-humans, their altered bodies and decades of training allowing them to run and fire without missing. Tiberius's bolt pistol glowed red hot from over use as he took down heretic after heretic, the fist-sized bolts shattering their faces into shards of bone hanging onto the rest of the skull by tiny strips of flesh, before the bolt exploded inside their brain a split-second later, leaving the falling body with only a stump.
Tiberius could fell the red thirst descending. He could see Sanguinius, his primarch, inspiring him to greater feats. He let out his rage that had been boiling up inside him, running towards a group of mutants who were manning a defence platform up ahead. He could barely register his brothers running behind him as he sheathed his bolt pistol and chain sword. He smashed into the first of them, driving this fist into its stomach and ripping out a tangle of intestinal tubes, gore dripping from every part of his blessed battle plate. He turned on the second mutant as it fired at him in a futile attempt at driving him off. Tiberius smiled inside his helmet; he shot his hand out and, taking hold of what passed for its head, crushed it in his armoured grip. There were still five of the gibbering things desperately trying to kill him in a vain attempt to gain favour with their dark patrons. He chuckled, letting his helmets speakers project the sound to his victims. They wailed in terror, and fled.
Tiberius unsheathed his weapons and sprinted after them, his huge form moving faster than it should. He caught up in seconds. He slashed down with his chain blade and the scaly appendage that had once been a leg flew off the slowest of his prey, blood spurting from the shredded stump. The next three he dispatched with his bolt pistol, the sound of their heads bursting in a shower of red. The last one knew it could never outrun one of mankind's angles of death. He turned, and in a display of courage Tiberius would have respected if the thing was not an unholy affront to all that was right, charged him. Rejoicing in this opportunity to cleanse the world of filth, Tiberius raised his chain sword and drove it into the tangle of limbs that had grown around its body. The arms fell off like the rotors of a downed helicopter, flying off at frightening speed and bathing Tiberius in yet more red.
Having regrouped with all the members of his squad, Tiberius led them to the stronghold where their Chapter Master, Gavriel Seth, was leading an assault. He was a blur as he hacked limbs from bodies in his zeal to breach the walls. The Flesh Tearers followed his example, and charged forwards, bellowing their battle cry with all their considerable might. Very few have heard the battle cry of the Flesh Tearers, but those who have say it is an inarticulate scream that freezes the enemies of the Emperor with fear. The great siege tanks of the space marines rolled forwards, their demolisher cannons tearing great rents in the ferrocrete walls through which the tide of raging warriors could flood. Like a tsunami they flattened all in their path, streaking the walls with dark crimson blood. Seth gave Tiberius the honour of waving the chapter's banner from the captured command centre. The battle was one, the heretics and mutants slaughtered to a man. In the distance, thunderhawk gunships landed, waiting to transport the victors back to their orbiting Battle Barge.
