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Scouring Of Vengist IV
Topic Started: May 24 2009, 01:51 PM (187 Views)
Doghouse
Administrator
The Scouring of Vengist IV

Orbital Administratium Station over Vengist IV
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With Supreme Grand Chapter Master Benchpress on his way to Mars First Captain Maximus Vaan Damage was left in charge of the day to day running of the chapter. Vaan Damage a seasoned veteran of numerous wars, well a couple at least, had been informed of a xenos incursion on Vengist IV a small Agri-world on the northern rim of the galaxy.
Seeing the chance to bring glory to the Chapter he immediately set course for the source of the distress call. The campaign known as the Scouring of Vengist IV was set in motion and somewhere something in the warp giggled to itself.


The battle barge hung in high stationary orbit over Vengist IV like an ornate silver dagger poised to plunge deep into the heart of the planet.
There would be no time for pleasentries with the Imperial nobility of the ruling caste of the Agri-world below.
There would be no parades, no fanfares annoucing the arrival of the legendary Astartes, such was the urgencey of their mission that even debarking by Thunder Hawks or Drop Pods was out of the question.
They were Angels of Death, the Emperor's rightious fury and they would decend apon the planet below like angry gods of war. This was a surgical strike straight to the heart of the Governor's palace from where they would establish a beach head to eradicate their foe.

The Governor's office was illuminated by a blinding white light that chilled the air, permafrost formed instantly over the ancient bookcases that lined the walls of the stately room that the light had touched.
The Governor stared in frightened disbelief as the light faded to reveal a circle of metal giants, Terminators of the Adeptus Astartes, their stormbolters raised they began scanning the room as they established their surroundings.
The giants strode forwards, the servos of their magnificent armour whined, great foot falls echoed around the chamber as they stomped forth to establis a perimenter at each of the four doors leading from the office.
The Governor, a skilled and passionate orator who had lead the planetary senate in debate countless times and who's very words had stirred millions of Imperial citizens, was for the first time in his life truely lost for words.

At the center of the circle stood a lone Astarte, his armour although similar in hue to those of his comrades was suprisingly spartan. The emblem on his single shoulderpad seemed to depict a round yellow sun but it was hard to tell from a single glance in the poor light of the room.
The Astarte stood before him like a mighty collosus, a legend of old both terrifying and awe inspiring. He was truely humbled by the Captain's presence.

"Forgive me Governor but there is little time for introductions," The Captain said as the Governor desperately tried not to wilt under the intense power of the giant's ice cold gaze "we intercepted your distress call and embarked with all haste!"
The Governor trembled as he attempted to reply. He stopped before the words could utter forth from his lips, his brow furrowed in bemusement.

"Dis...distress call?" He stammered.

"Yes, we received a distress call bound for holy Terra telling of a Xenos incursion. Although we are few in number we came as soon as we could!"

"I'm sorry...a distress call you say?" The governor repeated himself just to make certain what he was hearing was correct.

"Yes, it was bound for Terra via Astromican relay omega beta six three nine"

The rather puzzled Govenor retreated to his desk before perching his reading glasses on the end of his nose and began scanning through historical data backlogs.
"Ah, here we are," he exclaimed "it appears my predecessor dispatched an Administrium Adeptus Bioligicus Request form to the Agri-cultural Magos concerning an influx of a previously unseen xenos life form here on Vengist." he continued rather pleased with himself "The transmission is several centuries old, I'm afraid there has been a bit of a misunderstanding my leige." He smiled as he looked up from the scanner.

"What kind of xenos?" The Captain enquired.

The Governor tapped into key board and a single ray of light rose from the desk surface before blossoming into an image approximately eight inches high of an alien lifeform.

"THRONE!" The Captain exclaimed in horror "How big are these unholy terrors!"
The Governor paused before answering.

"Erm, it's a life sized image...they're called Ptera-Squirrels. They are quite cute actually, they feed mostly on insects that threaten our crops. My children keep one as a pet, they're perfectly harmless unless..."

"Unless?" The Governor's choice of words had peaked the Captain's interest.

"Well, unless they are threatened by natural predators in which case later generations will under go metamorphosis into vicious blood drinking carnivores...but that takes...well, decades."

"And where are these xenos located?"

"Well," The Governor continued "several kilometres to the north of the city beyond the valley known as the Hot Gates, about a million or so but they're mostly harmless." He smiled.

"SERGEANT!" The Captain bellowed "Contact the Battle Barge, I want all Thunder Hawks prepared for combat drop within the hour!"

"C...combat drop?" The Governor laughed nervously "Is that really neccessary?"

The Captain rested his knuckles on the table as he drew himself down to eye level with the Governor.

"Do you know what is written in the Holy Codex Astartes concerning foul Xenos?" He snarled as the table began to creak and strain under his enormous weight. The Governor stared blankly. "It is written...that the man who...no wait...never allow the...no wait a minute..." His eyes glazed over for a moment as he stared blankly ahead mumbling under his breath to himself "Well, it says Xenos are bad and must be destroyed!" he growled as he slammed his fist into the table splintering it's ornate laminate surface.
Standing upright he turned to walk away.

"What is it you are saying, you're going to attack the ptera-squirrels?" The Governor asked, not quite liking where this conversation was leading.

"We will bombard them from orbit, civillian collateral damage shouldn't be more than oh, sixty or seventy percent at most!" the Captain remarked casually.

"SIXTY OR SEVENTY PERCENT!" The Govennor screamed in disbelief.

"Hmm, perhaps you are right these could prove a worthy opponent for the Chapter a land based assault would only amount to a casulaty rate of five to one in our favour!"

"NO!" The Governor's face was turning a bright scarlet "I will NOT sanction this action, I will launch a protest with the Administratium!"

Maximus froze in midstep. The Administratium, feth! That could lead to an Inquisitional enquiry and then the Cosmic Space Knights (of doom) might be made to explain for losing those damn STC templates.

"I strictly forbid you to land an army on Vengist soil!"

"Very well," Maximus retorted "I shall do as you request but just one thing..."

"Yes my leige?" The Govenror replied.

"The journey has been long and ardous, might I ask that my personal guard of three hundred and I be allowed to stretch our legs here on your beautiful planet?"

"Of course, I shall provide you with a personal escort..."

"That will not be neccessary Governor!" Maximus interrupted politely "I thought my men might want to go for a brisk walk, say several kilometeres north of the city, to say...oh I don't know...the Hot Gates?"
With that he turned smiling to himself, his Terminators falling in behind him as he left the Govenor alone in his office and prepared for war.



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Send in the Clones

Although the Supreme Grand Chapter Master's mission had succeeded in distracting the suspicions of the Adeptus Mechanicus he returned to find that Captain Vaan Damage had gone off on a campaign taking fully one third of the new clone Astartes with him to battle the Ptera-Squirrel invasion forces.
To make matters worse no news had been received of their progress since they made planet fall two days earlier. Fearing the worst he immediately mobilised the remainder of the chapter and set course for Vengist IV to support the heroic First Captain's men in their hour of need.


Even through the external grill and advanced breathing filters of his MkVII helm Brother-Sergeant Meatshield's augmented senses could pick out the individual scents of his surroundings. He could indentify his power armoured brothers by their individual musks. He could taste the faint metallic taint that hung in the air produced by the distant sprawling factories of Vengist City, carried by the prevailing winds.
He could distinguish the individual sounds of the forest mapping his surroundings in his mind's eye despite the suit's sophisticated augers and auspexes. More importantly he could sense his enemy.
Meatshield silently raised a clenched fist signalling for his squad to halt. Each brother tensed as they immediately scanned the forest for signs of xenos activity, each brother watching the back of the man next to him.
There had been no word from Captain Maximus Vaan Damage and his brave 300 since they had left for the Hot Gates.
Supreme Grand Chapter Master Benchpress had ordered the newly created clone tactical squads to begin sweeping the forests north of the city to locate them at their last known position.
The Techs had a theory that there may well be a type of Ptera-Squirrel they hadn't encountered before, an intelligent leader caste, a Brain-Squirrel that must be eliminated at all costs.
Sure, the Ptera-Squirrels hadn't mounted any form of offensive to suggest such a creature existed or displayed any form of activity other than scampering around the trees chasing each other's tails playfully.
But it was only a matter of time before they got organised and the war would begin in earnest.

The attack was sudden and unexpected. The attacker dropped from the trees above gliding on thin membranes that streched between it's limbs to land squarely on the face plate of Brother Deadmeat.
It clung to his visor briefly, staring him in the face curiously before scampering across his head and over his pack.
Unable to draw a bead on his assailant with his Plasma Cannon Deadmeat let out a squeal of anguish.
As one the squad turned and fired, the forest floor lit up with the blinding flash and roar of mass-reactive bolter shells impacting against Brother Deadmeat's armour. Then there was silence.

As the smoke cleared the squad advanced on the fallen form of their brother.
"Brother Deadmeat?... really sorry about that, are you ok?" Brother Token enquired sheepishly as he knelt next to his prone comrade and gentley prodded the marine with his index finger.
Deadmeat sat bolt up right. "YOU SHOT ME...YOU SHOT ME YOU FETHING JERKS!" He screamed almost hysterically. His armour was pitted, blackened and scarred by the bolt shells, great pits of ceramite had been torn into the suit. "THAT REALLY HURT...YOU...YOU DUMB JERKS!"

"Yeah...erm...well, sorry!" Token cringed "There was this xenos and it was sort of on your face..."

Brother-Sergeant Meatshield's raised his bolter "Anyone else hear that?" He interupted.

"Hear what?" Token said as he stood adopting a combat stance.

"That whirling hissing sound," he cocked his head slightly as if listening intently "I can taste something unnatural in the air, something tainted, something industrial."

"All I can taste is fething blood" Deadmeat muttered as he wrenched his battered helmet free and spat several teeth into the palm of his hand.

Meatshield's mind raced back to his intensive one week training course at Clone Acadamy several weeks previously. Being two weeks old and the eldest most experienced clone member of the squad Meatshield had been assigned as Sergeant.
But what was it he wasn't seeing here, what was it that whirled, hissed and produced chemical odours.

"Oh Throne..." He grimaced as he looked at Brother Deadmeat's Plasma pack, coolant gases venting from a ruptured hose.

"What?" Deadmeat said he rubbed his head smiling a toothless grin.

"Plasma reactor meltdown..."

"Oh...feth..." Deadmeat sighed.

The immediate forest was consumed by a brilliant blue ball of light. Trees and foliage were vapourised as the super heated gases of the Plasma Cannon erupted in critical mass. Then there was only darkness.

Being the furthest from Deadmeat's position when the reactor blew the Brother-Sergeant had been thrown clear of the explosion's epicenter to land deep into the forest.
As he lay on his side he became aware of the faintest sensation of a breeze blowing against his face through the shattered lenses of his visor.
Although he had no idea of how badly he'd been injured, his pounding head was a clear sign that he was still alive.
As his vison began to clear he saw it.
The Ptera-Squirrel approached in small bounding hops to stop right next to his face. Meatshield stared into it's two twinkling evil little eyes, his hearts pounding as it wrinkled it's tiny nose as if to sniff his visor.
Try as he might he couldn't move his arm to reach his bolt pistol sidearm.
It moved it's furry little face closer, then stopped.
Stood on it's two back leg's, it's tiny ears erect, it twiched it's head as it sniffed the air repeatedly.
The deafening crack of two trees spliting apart behind echoed across the forest as the large ceramite and admantium foot of Brother Hulk's dreadnought came crashing down squashing the xeno flat.
"Feth you, alien scum!" Meatshield laughed as he painfully rolled onto his front before using the venerable dreadnought's greave to haul himself to his feet.
There was little time for celebrations however.

"BROTHER-SERGEANT," Brother Hulk's voice boomed out over his external vox speakers "I'M READING MULTIPLE LIFE SIGNS ALL AROUND OUR POSITION, WE ARE SURROUNDED!"

"Throne!" Meatshield snarled unholstering his bolt pistol with fumbling fingers "It's a trap, we are truely undone!"
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Doghouse
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The Heroically Strategic Defeat of the CSK(...od)

Despite their best efforts the CSK(...od) soon found themselves out numbered and out classed by the cunning Ptera-Squirrel hordes.
As the clone forces blindly stumbled from one ambush to the next the harsh combat conditions of the abundent lush green forests and sweeping majestic meadows soon proved to much for them.
After a misunderstanding between the forces of Van Dammage and the re-enforcing CSK(...od) clones sent to aid them (Van Dammage being convinced that they were Ptera-Squirrel infiltrators ordered the attack) the weary CSK(...od) withdrew from Vengist IV to regroup and plan their new offensive.
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