Here's a little GK fluff I wrote, it'll continue, hopefully a series.

The Shining Paladins
Jonah Crow looked deep into Ezekiel Forge’s eyes. There was no compassion there.
“Well,? he said. “Then it is settled. Tomorrow, we take the planet IG-67 once and for all. We shall lance-strike the Chaos Palace, and your force will destroy the ritual on the eastern pole.?
“In the almighty name of the Emperor, I am ready.?
“Then tomorrow will be the last day of the poor people of IG-67’s fear and suffering. Now, rest, before the morrow.?
Walking down the plasteel walkways of the Paladin’s Strike Vessel, Forge glanced at the walls, and even without his machine-spirit-aided vision, he could see that they were perfect. This never ceased to please him. They felt solid, an element mostly missing in the warp. Forge shivered. Forget. Forget. Forget... good. He continued until he found his chamber. Grand it was indeed. As all the men’s chambers were. A ship meant to hold 100 men in power armor, 25 Terminators, and 2 Dreadnoughts or Tanks was now holding 20 men in power armor, 4 Terminators, and 1 Dreadnought. Thus, the living, training, and working spaces could be increased, making for a more content crew. He rubbed his hands across the mahogany tables, admiring the intricate carvings of the birth of the Emperor, the building of humanity, and the Heresy. The daemonic carvings of the Heresy were shifting because of the proximity of warp holes, but by now he was used to it. At first he almost put a Psycannon bolt through the masterpiece. After thinking about the position he was in, and the inquisitorial-type actions he was about to do, he collapsed into a dreamless sleep.
* * *
The next morning was full of business. The noise of every Paladin waking at once was loud, but the morning meal was, like always, completely silent. Training this day would not happen, preparation, weapon and armor care would take its spot. All the suits of armor were taken from their cases, and all the Storm Bolters untethered from their shrines. The daily ritual of cleaning and inspecting the machinery and the machine spirit that they so trusted during battle was underway, and no interruptions could be made. All the crew were silently working on their bolters except for Crow, who was refilling the pyrum-petrol flasks on his hand meltas. The soul in the Dreadnought was double- and triple-checking Lascannon power and flexing its power fist. Soon, they were all ready and in lines.
Both squads of ten Paladins each got a large Drop Pod, while the Dreadnought got its own and the commanders shared one. When everyone was loaded, the deck crew of the ship let the air out of the launching platform, and the engines ignited, sending the loyal Paladins to the loud and raucous surface of the Slaanesh-blighted planet.

As the Marines braced for impact, Crow looked around. The Paladins were perfectly disciplined, all staring at an invisible point in the center of the pod. A tinny, metallic voice broke through the speakers, announcing that they would touch down in five minutes. Crow sat in awkward silence, wondering how the Paladins could not twitch, hurdling down to possible death. At exactly 30 seconds to impact, all of the internal clocks went off, and the Paladins tensed as one, bracing for impact. Crow was astonished, but the thought darted out of his head as he realized that they were about to hit the ground. A sudden *****ing marked impact, and the Paladins marched off the pod. They were fighting along side the Maroc Marauders, another Space Marine chapter that had podded at the same time. Three more drop pods and a shuttle holding the Marauders hit the soil, and shook it around them. As they all disembarked and lined up, Crow noticed for the first time that it was snowing. Quite fiercely now, as if the snow knew exactly where the Marines were. They broke into movement, trudging along in the deep snow drifts, not feeling the cold at all in their heated power armor.
They set up camp after a day of walking, and the officers met in their section. Since the Marauders only spoke Spanish, Crow and Forge had to adapt.

“*The records on this planet show no signs of storms like these, and there were none while we were on the Cruiser.*?

“*Yes, that is why we marched south. We should be at about equator level right now.*?

“*This is absurd! We should be out of this emperor-forsaken storm by now!*?

“*We march east tomorrow. A four hour march should bring us to the outskirts of the capital, and two more after that will take us to the center, the location of the ritual.*?

“*Good, let us rest. Tomorrow, we move out,*?

* * *

After a long four hours, the Marauders and the Paladins saw what looked like a sheet of yellow approaching. As they got closer, they realized that it was the edge of the storm. A clear-cut edge. The storm just stopped on one side of the road. As they past, walking became easier. They looked back to see grey clouds and snow, but in the other direction, sunny skies. The town was utterly uninhabited, but dead bodies lied everywhere. The ominous feeling of a tear in the warp became stronger, bringing out worries and fear into the minds of the weak. As they neared the center of town, black appeared in the sky. Clouds were forming, and it started to rain. As they crossed a highway, a big one at that, eight large lanes, totaling about 100 feet, they saw a lone Chaos Noise Marine standing there, perfectly still.

“Speak, to show that you are alive.?

No response. After five minute, Jonah Crow primed his jump pack and told Forge he was going over to inspect the marine. Before he even took a step, the noise Marine pointed his Sonic Blaster into the air, and let loose a blast of sound equal to the force of a plasma cannon. Suddenly, Chaos Marines were everywhere, swarming across the highway like beetles.

“*****! Wasn’t expecting that!?