Part 2: Vorehammer feat. kidanon and pony adoption

Part 2

        The mobilization is a semi-organized stampede. Undisciplined, militiamen push, shove and in some cases trample unfortunates underfoot as the mob pushes out of the abbey due north towards the Tau staging grounds around the munitions lines at Manufactory Doncaster. Priests and Redemptionists corral the mob down the cratered and potmarked Somerby Boulevard watching for stragglers or cowards that may attempt to flee before contact with the enemy is made.

 

        Your company is to lead the charge as soon as the vanguard have been given their chance to repent. A wretched warband composed of criminals condemned to death, flagellants and degenerates who are assured of their need for penitence through death on the battlefield. Clanker rumbles along just ahead of your formation with squeaking treads and the cranking, rattling noise of changing gears.  You silently recite prayers of protection under your breath as the march became a jog when Tau forward defenses where sited. You could see what could only be Tau fighters preparing for the assault on their position. A simple barricade built from the surrounding ruins is their cover. Two hovering Tau personnel carriers silently take positions front and center.

 

        Baldric, the designated vox operator catches Dollarhyde’s attention to deliver orders, the abbot in turn shouts “Hold! Hold, here!” You and the company drop to a knee and wait. “Affix bayonets!” In one motion with the sound of metal against leather, everyone unsheathes and attaches the massive combat knife to the end of their rifles. Moments later the trademark roar of Imperial artillery announces its delivery of much welcomed heavy ordinance upon the Tau defenders. You can see the aliens break formation and scatter as tons of dirt, rockrete, and the creatures themselves are thrown airborne in the barrage. One of Tau APCs survives the pounding only to be finished off by Clanker’s 120mm gun before return fire could be made. You and your brothers-in-arms give an ecstatic yell in response.

 

        Several tense minutes pass before the bombardment finally comes to an end. The silence that followed was the vanguard’s signal. With an unnerving warcry they throw themselves headlong into the defenses while the Tau attempt to recover from being hammered from the sky. You watch as the madmen charge the alien’s line with complete disregard for their own safety. Many are cut down before the ruined barricade is reached but once the Tau Fire Warriors were engaged in melee the odds quickly turned in your specie’s favor. The art of hand-to-hand isn’t practiced by these xenos savages. The fight to save Albius from the aliens is actually looking up for a change. Perhaps things will actually turn out well in the end. You feel the beginning of a smile tug at the corners of your lips.

 

        Without warning, low hanging clouds roll over the horizon at an impossible speed blocking out the sun. Not smog or soot but honest-to-Throne clouds! You’ve heard that weather, untamed by the Mechanicus’ techno-sorcery is still a thing in the wild lands outside of suburbia and the hives but you have never seen it with your eyes. You and all two hundred and thirty five of your brothers are now staring at the grey, overcast skies in awe and uncertainty. Small, fluffy white crystals begin falling from the heavens all around you. Someone nearby mutters something about ‘snow’. You notice one of crystals sticking to your glove. Apprehensively, you pull your toque down from your mouth and taste it. It melts into water on your tongue. The cleanest water you’ve ever tasted, at that. You announce your discovery to Oliver, beside you who passes your discovery on to the others.

 

***

        The distinct sound of laughing children draws Dollarhyde’s attention from the bizarre atmospheric anomaly above to his pupils behind him. All of them either have their heads turned upwards attempting to catch snowflakes on their tongues, giggling like girls or are attempting, fruitlessly attempting to fill their canteens with the frozen water, the dangers of battle temporarily forgotten.  Emotions the old abbot hasn’t felt in decades welled up inside of him. Heartwarming nostalgia of times and places where kids could be kids dueled with the soul-crushing reality that most of these innocent human beings will not live until dusk. Moments pass before he cleared the heavy lump that formed within his throat and with much regret had to put an end to their brief recess and reinstate order in the ranks. “It’s for their own good...” he uttered under his breath.

“What are you doing, pups!? Get off your arses! Eyes forward and alert!”

Within seconds discipline was restored. Not a body out of place.

“Good lads, they are. Every one of ‘em.”

***

 

        Glancing at your watch, twenty minutes have passed since the brief ‘R&R’,if it could be called that. You can’t see much of anything from this distance but the clashing of metal and the cries of pain have become quieter. Finally, you see humanoid silhouettes appear from the dust and smoke. Instinctively, weapons are presented at the approaching figures. A small handful of human survivors flee from the fight. Behind them, several ranks of Tau Warriors take position.

 

 

        You attention turns to an enraged Redemptionist with a bullhorn “Turn around cowards! There is no retreat, not one step back!” The holy man’s visage, contorted in rage, turns to you and your brothers. “Cut those bastards down! All of them!” You glance at the Abbot who gives his approval with a nod. With hesitation you lift your autorifle to your shoulder and align your sites on the closest group of fleeing men. Just as trained, you slowly squeeze the trigger until you hear the loud bark and feel the strong kick against your shoulder. You deliver several bursts before peeking over top of your rifle to see that most of them are now dead, a few writhing in pain in the mud and quickly accumulating snow. All of the others are cut down by your brothers in a deafening roar of automatic gunfire and acrid smoke that is carried away by the cold, easterly winds. You never liked killing other humans but if the Ecclesiarchy dictates it, who are you say that they are wrong?

 

        Once more, tense silence falls over the blood-soaked Somerby Boulevard. The Confessor himself and his retinue of priests and Redemptionists lead a procession towards the head of the mob to give his closing words before the final push is made. Your company will have the honor of leading the initial bayonet charge. While he addresses the anxious crowd, itching for the chance to spill alien blood, you take slow, deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves as you feel the adrenaline build in your system from the anticipation. With trembling hands, you remove you rosary from your pocket and begin looping it around your right wrist. “Around…around…over and under.” As you complete this simple but significant pre-battle ritual the Confessor reaches the climax of his select declamation from the Imperial Creed the roar of the crowd reaches its crescendo. The zealous fervor was contagious. The blustering, winter winds picked up and the visibility plummeted as if nature itself was moved by the spectacle. He points to Tau who patiently await your specie's assault and your duty to the Emperor and Imperium begins in earnest.