Close Quarters Met

Apart from the sounds of battle in the distance, the streets of the living complexes fell silent for a split second. A figure raised their head from the Heretic’s defences, peering out of a window to see what the Blood Angels were planning. The roar that Master Beckett gave with his Honour Guard was all he heard before he noticed the 6 Red Giants charging for the building. “They’re coming!” was all he shouted as he jumped down from the battlements and towards the rest of the cowering Heretics. “They are Coming!” He rang out again before he was hit in the chest by a gigantic hand, sending him into the nearby way. The Ogryn grinned and pulled a specially made gasmask over it’s face, looked back to his 4 brethren all wearing the same sort of hand made gas masks, pumping chemicals into their lungs to heighten their rage.

Master Beckett reached the wall first, but he did not stop, instead, with a mighty crash he threw himself shoulder first into the bricked wall, smashing his entire weight and strength into the building and coming through the other side of the wall, and through the hole his Honour Guard stepped through, their weapons sparking with excitement as the met their first foes. The Heretics guarding this corridor were awestruck for a few seconds, before the bellow of their Sergeant ordered them to fire. The sound of auto weapons furiously emptying their magazines could be deafening, but Master Beckett turned to them, and headed towards them under the weathering fire, rounds bouncing harmlessly off of his power armour and that of his men, and once he reached their lines, he reached out with his sword, cutting through flesh and bone as if it was butter, cutting down 4 men with the single stroke.

The Heretics broke the instant the Blood Angels Captain hit their line, charging down the corridors towards the garages where they could draw up new firing lines. Master Beckett turned to look at his Honour Guard. “Tread softly men. Our next fight will be fighting the Ogryns. They maybe stupid, but their bruit strength is far from deniable. Move out.” The Honour Guard moved passed Beckett, in lead the Company Champion, wielding a humongous Power Sword in one hand and a Combat Shield and Bolt Pistol in the other. Master Beckett followed behind, close to the Brother Priest Stix and Tech Adept Caleb.

The Champion entered the Garage, his shield held high. “Master!…” The champion shouted through the vox before the sound of metal hitting concrete was heard, the Champion lifting off his feet and falling back, his Combat shield shattered under the strike. The rest of the Honour Guard charged in and stepped over the Champion, though Master Beckett waited to help pick the Champion up onto his feet, still looking to the enemy. 5 Ogryns, covered in spikes and carrying weapons from metal bars with clumps of concrete at the ends to sharpened metal plates strapped to wrists.

Master Beckett pointed the Champion in the direction of the 30 plus men that cowered within firing formations. “Deal with them.” And then stepped into the fray with the Ogryns. The Ogryns were far from the refined and genetically modified brutality of the Blood Angels, but their sheer enthusiasm and strength proved them to be dangerous to aggressively fling yourself at. Brother Priest Stix, quick on his feet and instead of a Power Weapon wielding a Chain Sword, battered his rotating edge against the pole of one of the Ogryns, slicing through them metal and then quickly and decisively cleaved the bruits head in two, kicking the spasming body to the ground with little Respect, and instead of joining into the combat with the last 4 Ogryns, stood back and watched.

Tech Adept Caleb struggled with his brutish foe, he ducked and weaved from quick attacks, sometimes the bruit made contacted against his Ancient Armour, running deep scores into it’s plates. Finally though, Caleb grabbed his opportunity. He managed to get right into the Ogryn’s fighting stance (if you want to call it that) and with a hard gut wrenching punch, he rammed the barrel of his Bolt Pistol into the beast’s ribs, flicking the weapon to a three round burst, the Pistol kicked in his hand, sending 3 heavy bolt rounds into the belly of the beast which detonated, sending blood everywhere and the beast slumped on itself in front of him.

Master Beckett fought with his beast, and he instantly noticed a difference within him. His attacks were aimed and had a cunning edge to them that defied the capabilities of a normal beast. “Bone-head!” Beckett let out as he sliced deep into the beasts arm, the wound fusing as the arm tore from it’s body with the weight, leaving a dry stump in place. The Beast stumbled back and Beckett dived for him, cutting a deep valley in it’s chest, slicing ribs and arteries a like and the beast gargled and fell back. “Don’t believe for one second you are a matched for the Emperor’s finest.” He looked to see the other two Honour Guard finish up, and the Champion was watching over some 23 men, those who had Surrendered after seeing their main chance against the Space Marines die. “Area clear, Alpha squad, we have POW’s, make sure they are bound and awaiting transport to the Strike Cruiser. They Need to be interrogated.” The reply was a swift “Yes Sir.” In his ear and then more Squads contacted Beckett, giving word that their objectives had been met. The Battle for the Space Station was theirs.

Copyright for Warhammer 40k owned by the Games Workshope