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Thread: The Brave Tale of Brother Lamechial

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    Senior Member Psyberwolfe's Avatar
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    The Brave Tale of Brother Lamechial

    Report of Brother Morael, Dreadnaught 3rd Battle Company

    Brother Uriel,
    Voidspan Station Sector 1.27.691 secured.
    Situation: tenuous request reinforcement
    Casualties: 1 MIA, 7 KIA, 12 wounded including Master Rathanael, I require some hull repairs.

    Individual combat actions may be accessed via my auspex cogitator. I wish to report on the bravery of one squad brother: Brother Lamechial of Assault Squad Och. He was the only member of our boarding party to not sustain wounds and he acted with clarity of thought and action. It is my request that he should receive promotion to …

    +++
    The Thunderhawk jolted and rocked as it approached site 691. Brother Lamechial inspected the readouts on his chainsword and bolter one last time. He was ready. The voices of his fellow brothers reciting battle hymns buoyed his spirit. He was ready to fight. “Brothers clear the vox channel,” exclaimed Brother Och. “In ten seconds we deploy.”

    The channel went silent. Lamechial looked about the interior of the Thunderhawk one last time and his eyes paused at the hulking form of the Dreadnaught Brother Morael. Lamechial felt the righteousness of this ancient battle brother and knew that his presence would protect them.

    The assault door soundlessly dropped moments after the retro jets halted the movement of the Thunderhawk. The raw light of the system’s sun triggered the autosenses on the marine’s helmets and the marines exited into the hard vacuum of space. The boarding party fanned out in a defensive formation on the deck of the ancient and crumbling space station. This station was an ancient pattern of hab sections joined by gangways that led off at different angles. Master Rathanael, the boarding party’s commander, surveyed the insertion point and strode towards the only gangway leading away from their landing site.

    “On me!” Rathanael commanded as he head down the gangway that led away from the insertion point. Lamechial thrilled as they ran down the shattered corridor. He labored as his suit compensated for the spotty coverage of ancient and failing gravity generators. One moment it would feel like he would float off and the next he would feel glued to the deck. This would bother a lesser man but Lamechial soldiered on.

    The vox came alive. “Contact! Point 273 by plus 45. Squad Och engage and silence the guns. Lamechial saw the muzzle flashes above and to his left. He could tell they were engaging their fire base. As he rushed to the jump point the deck exploded with shots from an alien spacecraft. He spun out of the way and was pulled behind a wall by Rathanael.

    The assault party waited as the lithe form of the spacecraft slipped passed their position. The time it took for it to pass crept by. “Men,” announced Rathanael over the vox, “We need to risk a jump now. If we don’t our brothers will be torn to shreds by those guns.” Lamechial judged the distance to the gap in the wall near the point where the gun fire was and he fired the boosters on his jump pack.

    On wings of fire, the Lamechial streaked toward the positions of his opponents. He performed a simple kick-flip-landing maneuver, but as his boots hit the deck edge, the deck crumbled out from under him and he felt himself spinning towards the blackness of space. His heart flooded with dread. Lamechial released the grip on his bolt pistol and grabbed for wall that was slipping past him. His superhuman grasp found purchase in the surface and he cheated death of his soul.

    As he pulled himself toward the deck he felt his leg jerk. His gaze flashed to his leg as his squad mate dangled from his foot. “Fast thinking,” remarked Lamechial. “Let’s get back in the fight.”

    The climb into the gangway took more time than he expected and once he and his squad mate had found solid ground they noticed that only Rathanael stood amongst the torn and battered bodies. Rathanael examined the life function ports on the downed marines and as he did Lamechial retrieved a bolt pistol from his fallen comrade.

    “We need to call for support Master.” Brother Och gurgled from a slumped position against a wall.
    “True but I believe we may only be calling for our burial detail.”
    “Only in death …” started Brother Och
    “… are we released from duty.” Master Rathanel finished, and with that Brother Och slipped into the Emperor's rest.

    Lamechial watched the scene unfold with a heavy heart when, without warning, shells began to impact and explode the walls around them. Lamechial scanned for the source of this new antagonist and he saw a squad of chaos marines negotiating a narrow support structure between their location and another gangway.

    The squad mate Lamechial saved from the depths of space turned to face the new challenge. As he did a blast of plasma exploded in his chest plate which slammed him into the wall next to Brother Och.

    Rathanael looked at Lamechial and whispered with deadly intent, “For the Emperor.” Lamechial nodded in reply.

    Rathanael activated his jump pack and charged the traitorous marines. Lamechial was close behind. Rathaniel tore into the foe like a lion. The blades of his lightning claws sang through the armor of his opponents as he carved a bloody path through the foe. Just outside of Rathanel’s reach a lone opponent stood bolter drawn.

    The wicked looking opponent sent a volley of exploding bolts hurtling at Rathanel. They struck him in the leg and another in the chest plate. Their momentum sent Rathanael flying into Lamechial, but he was prepared. With fluid grace Lamechial grabbed his master by the pauldron with his left hand. He let the weight and momentum of his master spin the right side of his body into a firing position. When the assassain was in Lamechial’s sights, he emptied the clip of his gun. The traitor was riddled with death and his body floated back through the hole it had emerged from.

    Lamechial surveyed his position and quickly understood how exposed and vulnerable he was. He keyed the activation rune of his jump pack and landed inside of a passageway with Rathanael's limp form near the support beam he was on. Lamechial looked at Rathanel’s life-sign monitor and saw that his hearts still beat strong.

    A wave relief passed over him as he examined his new surroundings. Within easy reach he saw an unmanned Imperial quad gun and opposite the gun he saw a group of lithe Eldar heading towards him. “Out of the fire and into the warp storm,” muttered Lamechial to himself. He pulled himself to his feet and rushed over to the quad gun.

    Operating this gun was easy for him. He knew some of the finer points of gunnery and when he had an optimal firing solution he evaporated the squad that was menacing him. As he let off the trigger the vox came alive. A deep metallic edged voice came on. “Anyone from Expedition Rathanael copy? This is Brother Morael.” Lamechial could hear the urgency in his voice.

    “Brother Morael this is Lamechial. I’m with Rathanael he is hurt and unconscious.”
    “Where is Brother Och?” Morael inquired.
    “Dead.”
    “Very well. Transmit your position. I’ll send a retrieval boat for you.”

    +++
    póg mo thóin
    If I tell you, "You're wrong," you'll need to click this.

    Does anybody else find it odd, by the way, that the information age has led to language becoming an oblique and imprecise tool where even the most straightforward phrasing is pored over with chicken entrails and bone tossing to divine the true meaning?

  2. #2
    Senior Member RealGenius's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Psyberwolfe View Post
    “Out of the fire and into the warp storm,”
    Nicely turned!
    Jim
    This is why you don't go to Jim's. --Minus67
    Rook End | The Fly Lords of Terra

  3. #3
    Senior Member Psyberwolfe's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by RealGenius View Post
    Nicely turned!
    Thanks!
    póg mo thóin
    If I tell you, "You're wrong," you'll need to click this.

    Does anybody else find it odd, by the way, that the information age has led to language becoming an oblique and imprecise tool where even the most straightforward phrasing is pored over with chicken entrails and bone tossing to divine the true meaning?

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