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Here's the latest installment in my story, enjoy
Desmond Felmoor hunkered down in the cool shade of the captured Imperial bunker and traced his finger along a map, which Escobar had pulled from the body of a slain Imperial Guard officer. It depicted the layout of Imperial Guard forces, as well as a series of key outposts that provided tempting targets for a Dusk Phantom assault.
“Have we determined what the sensors picked up there?” Desmond asked, jabbing his finger at a spot on the map where the sensor had detected a significantly large surge in power.
“Visual confirmation is impossible sir; the cloud layer is still too thick,” Chief Librarian Keel Gaelan replied.
Desmond weighed his options carefully, his powerful mind working at an unimaginable speed, and mentally laid out a plan of attack on the Imperial position.
“Very well, have Captain Imloth order the troops to battle readiness and prepare for rapid deployment,” he said as he buckled his helmet onto his head.
The command staff piled into an Imperial chimera that Chief Techpriest Sayid Khalim had requisitioned, twin plumes of dust trailing behind them as they rode as fast as the vehicle would allow towards the Imperial outpost.
The marines sat silently, each of them silently praying to the Chaos gods, until they reached the outpost and they gripped their bolters in preparation for the assault. Lasbolts spanked off the chimera’s hull, barely scraping off the paint of the PDF vehicle as it lumbered forward, unaffected by the hail of Imperial fire.
Desmond nodded at Khalim, who slammed his fist on a button, launching a volley of frag grenades towards the nearest clump of Imperial guardsmen, tearing their bodies to shreds. The boarding ramp lowered and Desmond led his command staff out with a roar, matched in intensity only by his wrist-mounted storm bolters as he charged the enemy.
The guardsmen faltered at first, but an officer quickly rallied them, finding reassurance in the small size of Desmond’s squad, which surely could be bested by the two hundred guardsmen present. The Dusk Phantom advance began to crumble as lasbolts streamed towards them and the superior numbers and firepower began to take their toll. The sheer weight of the combined impacts forced Desmond to his knee and a well-placed lasbolt destroyed the right lens of Khalim’s helmet.
Just then however, a screeching sound filled the sky and the lasfire subsided as the guardsmen looked up in horror and saw that sixty drop pods were falling from the sky, spraying earth and gunfire in every direction. Desmond pushed himself to his feet and charged the enemy, drawing his power sword and chopping through the torso of the nearest guardsman. He stepped over the corpse and grinned inside his helmet as its autosenses picked out a man dressed in the uniform of an Imperial commissar.
A guardsmen stepped between the two with a raised warknife, but Desmond simply punched him in the face and laughed as he went down. An officer, presumably the one who had rallied the guardsmen, turned his back on the Dusk Phantoms and began to run, but the commissar turned and put a bolt round through the back of his skull. Had they not been enemies, Desmond would have commended the commissar’s hatred for the cowardly.
Desmond spun his sword in his hand and pointed it at the man, who flexed his power fist menacingly and drew a combat blade. He lunged forward, leading with the knife, which Desmond easily sliced in half with his power sword. The power fist however struck Desmond’s chest plate, but Desmond turned the brunt of the attack aside with a rapid twist of his torso. He struck back with his power sword, but the commissar danced out of the way and swung at Desmond. Who caught the man’s arm by the elbow and ripped it from its socket with a vicious tug. The commissar fell to his knees in pain, but he still gathered enough strength to glare at Desmond, who nodded in respect for a skilled warrior and stabbed him in the heart, putting an end to his misery.
The Dusk Phantoms mopped up the remaining guardsmen, many of whom surrendered and threw down their weapons, as Desmond walked further into the center of the camp. When the sensors picked up the energy spike, he had had a hunch as to what its source was, and he smiled when he saw that he was right.
Its metal surface was torn in several places and wiring was exposed, but as Desmond’s eyes ran across the twisted metal, he saw that he could easily repair it with the material at hand. Soon, the Terminus Vicis, Lord Carcerus’ Warmonger-class titan, would rise again.
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Good stuff again. Admittedly, I'll perhaps have to familiarize myself with the context, I took a long-ish hiatus from LO over the summer. Also I should have material of my own up soon- continuing that story. There's just a few more things to tweak and it'll be up.
Not tonight though, have sleep to do. Plus this crazy girl keeps texting me. Can't really enjoy or post literature about our favorite WH40k universe like that....
Far more enjoyable than my most recent read- A Midsummer Night's Dream. Undoubtedly a work of heresy.
It's good to see that Carcerus & Company are back up. Can't wait to see what happens next.
Just one question, do you actually play Word Bearers? If you do, then I'd love to see a pic of what Carcerus looks like on the battlefield, if there is a model in existence.
I am heading off to the Peace Corps. It is bery likely I will not be back. Good luck to all of you endeavors.
Yes, I do play Word Bearers, but unfortunately I haven't finished painting/building yet so I don't have a pic of him.
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