Monday, June 18, 2012

Return of the THeX: Twenty Four Miles to Salvation Part I

“There is still a lot of interference down here, please repeat,” restated Lt. Ulricht as she surveyed the chaos around her.  Pvt. Soizey and several others scrambled about trying to keep the series of signal boosters and the power supplies operational.  Sparks flew off the power cores as the vox lights flickered brightly but erratically.
“We can’t get a fix on your location from your vox beacons, no pick up is possible at this time,” squawked the on duty fleet officer aboard the Imperial Grand Cruiser Harbinger.

“You can’t just leave us down here,” pleaded Lt. Ulricht.
“Ma’am, yes we can and yes we will.”
The voxes internal wiring had begun to overheat and smoke ascended out of the casing.  Pvt. Soizey cracked it open with his trusty multitool to cool and ventilate the vox and bought a few more indeterminate operational moments.  “Look you sniveling little pole pusher, patch me through to Captain Stotten or somebody who matters now or I’ll…”
“Alright, alright.  Patching now.”  A few breathless moments passed until the signal returned.
“General Oren here.  Who is this?”
“General,” Lt. Ulricht startled that the little pisser of a duty officer transferred her all the way to the top, “We are stranded on this planet.  The evacuation of Echo company was a failure.  We were nearly at the rendezvous point when we made contact with mutants who disrupted our communications and we have encountered some other humans but they must be traitors because the opened fire on us.”
“That’s a shame, Lieutenant, but we have greater priorities right now.  Something is headed toward this planet and it will be here soon.  I’ll be honest with you, you are the least of our worries now.  We are preparing for the warp jump as we speak.”
Sparks flew from the power cells as the cables that connected the serial voxes and the power cells began to smolder.  Pvt. Soizey did what he could to keep it going by having the squad fan the melting wires with their caps.  Soizey shook his head and Lt. Ulricht grasped for straws, “Sir, we have important information about what’s going on here.  This information would be very valuable to the Imperium and would make another token of our faithfulness when we reestablish contact, but sir we can’t keep our signal strength this high for much longer.  We need a way out.”
Oren’s message boomed in the minds of all who were within earshot, “Get to the landing platform in sector 7B.  Activate the platform’s beacons when you arrive. If you are not there within 6 hours exactly we,” the final death throws erupted from the vox as it shot off an eruption of white hot sparks.
Without hesitation Lt. Ulricht spun on her heels and faced the company. She shouted in the loudest voice she could muster, “We’ve got 4 hours to cover 24 miles of the some of the harshest conditions many of us have ever seen, but we carry the name of the proudest fortress in all the Hoth system.  Shed all unnecessary equipment, carry some of the minor wounded’s weight for them, and euthanize those that are too far gone.  The memories of our ancestors who served before us give strength, the Emperor lends us his will, and I’ll be damned if I’ll be the final officer to lead the greatest company in the greatest regiment in our proud corps. Emperor forgive all in our way because nothing will stop us now.”
******
Three hours and 18 miles into Echo Company’s journey they had returned to the city designated 18AG by THeX command. The locals called it Grabache and from what Lt. Ulricht had seen of it so far she thought that it was perfectly suited. She and her command company had found their way into a breached bunker and climbed to the top to get a better view of what lie ahead.  She scanned the horizon for any sign of activity with her monocular.  She could see her destination, the landing platform 7B, as it jutted up from the cities ruins and gleamed as a beacon of rescue.  She was so mesmerized by the promise of salvation from this horrid planet she neglected to spot the enemy auto cannon set up on the ravaged landing platform just across the street. 
The shower of ferrocrete shards and the screams of her command squad as they were blown to pieces caused her to instinctually throw herself against the cover of the ledge.  She reached her hand out to pull Specialist Tungst toward the cover only to pull back the bloody pulp of an appendage.  She took two deep controlled breaths then she screamed out, “Autocannons to the south on the busted landing platform, two other squads beyond the fence moving right toward us.  Fire heavy weapons on the first priority, now,” she paused a brief moment then continued, “Lasfire, on the seondary targets now!.”
She could hear the rapid spitting of the heavy bolters and the thumping pulse of the autocannons but nothing in the way of lasfire.  She crawled through the blood and gore of what used to be her command squad to peer over the broken rooftop only to see her exhausted squads slowly trudge through the broken landscape of craters and building debris.  She spotted Lt. Cragg lazily traipsing through the debris despite having the best footing of all those she could see.  “Cragg, get you and your squads to the archway!  You have no heavy weapons, so there are no excuses.  Move, move, move!”
Cragg shouted out to Sgt. Gannon who was at the archway already, “Gannon, you heard first lieutenant! Move, move, move!”  Gannon’s squad moved quickly into the wide boulevard while Cragg tripped and fumbled through the relatively light debris field.  The squad in front of Cragg that slightly trailed Sgt. Gannon’s squad emerged from the debris first and ran past the arch way only be cut down by a searing shower of shrapnel and lasfire.  A few of the infantry were able to crawl back into the safety provided by the cover of the pitted ground and mangled buildings.
*****
Lt. Marcum, having recently been moved off of the frontline and given command of the heavy bolter infantry squads, was at a bit of a loss.  From his time as a private he was always frontline infantry and he had never had any formal training with heavy weapons.  He wondered why Lt. Ulricht would put him in charge of something he had no experience when he realized that he, Ulricht, Cragg, and Thoms, who was on rear guard duty, were the last of the officers in the company. 
Marcum and his infantry squads rushed through a despoiled alley. The broken wall just to their south provided cover from the autocannon squads that ripped through Lt. Ulricht’s squad.  Marcum inspired his men forward, “Emperor help any squad I catch up to because I will tickle your throats with the barrel of my bolt pistol.  Hold position at the wall.”
They approached the intersection cautiously.  He peered around the wall and could see the enemies’ autocannons on the broken landing platform and could see the infantry a massing behind the ruined building in front of them.  His postion was great for covering fire for assaulting infantry.
Lt. Ulrichts voice rang through the ruins and very faintly it could be heard, “Autocannons to the south on the landing platform, two other squads beyond the fence moving right toward us.  Fire heavy weapons on the first priority, now!”  Without question the squads opened fire but it was little more that ineffective suppressing fire as Marcum’s squad was not yet in position. 
Marcum order, “Autocannon squads get on top of that ruin, 4-1 move around to the left and set up a heavy bolter on the south corner of the ruined tri-story.” Marcum moved his squad to the corner of the wall to complete the deadly net of cross fire for the intersection.  “4-1, fire on the target at 2.”
Cragg’s voice echoed from behind the broken wall, “Gannon, you heard first lieutenant! Move, move, move!” 
Marcum shook his head and thought that he couldn’t have heard the order right because as they approached the intersection he could see the bulk of the enemy command and infantry were right behind the broken building Gannon was headed toward.
****
“Cragg fucked us again, didn’t he?” Private Soizey said as he struggled to catch his breath to Sgt. Gannon. 
Sgt. Gannon surveyed the situation as his squad darted for protection against the outer wall of a ruined building across the wide boulevard.  He knelt at the outer wall of the building then cautiously peered through the windows of the building and could see several squads of the traitor guard advancing toward their position.  He put his back to the wall and could see the barrels of the autocannons sticking out of the upper floor windows of the building they had just come from and Marcum’s squads in the alleyway setting up for covering fire. Gannon shook his head in disbelief and the realization that Cragg had ordered him too far forward.
“I see one,” said private Grenholm, “correct that, two… no, three squads coming from the south.”
“I’ve got one coming in from the north,” said private Soizey.
“Another one is crawling through the buil…” the voice suddenly trailed off as he dropped dead on the spot as his face incinerated from a deadly accurate lasshot. 
“Return fire through the windows,” Gannon shouted and his squad responded immediately by unleashing a fury of las fire into the squad that crawled through the building ruins.  Howls of pain and rumbles of the building’s structure continued their decay as upper floors collapsed on top of some of the opposing infantry. 
Lt. Marcum’s voice could be heard very faintly in the distance, “Concentrate fire at the one o’clock.” The rapid spitting of the heavy bolters at Gannon’s squads back provided a glimmer of hope. 
The hope was quickly quelled when a ferocious roar came up from the south side of the building and a squad of raging madness surged from around the corner of the building with bayonets fixed and weapons raised in striking position.  “Stand ready,” Gannon blurted out as those of his squad that were closest to the corner were skewered at the end of the enemy’s bayonets.  They responded with a surge of their own as they crushed forward into charge to lessen the brutality. 
Bayonets and clubbing lasguns met one another in a swirl of carnage and death.  The two sergeants’ chainswords whirred loudly and the laspisols hissed as the sergeants cut through the crowd and moved toward one another.  One by one the others fell into the slippery pools of the blood of friend and foe alike when the two sergeants met.  Their chainswords clashed with a violent jerk as the chains dual counter spinning teeth pulled at one another.  Each sergeant fired their laspistols at one another but both just barely missed so nearly that the smell of ionized air stung their nostrils.
Gannon took a misstep into a large pool of entrails and gore then slipped just enough to open himself up for a mortal blow.  The opposing sergeant thrusted his chainsword forward when his feet were pulled out from under him by the Thexian scarves wrapped around his boot by a bloodied but conscious Prviate Soizey.  Gannon quickly regained his footing and buried his chainsword into the prone enemy sergeant. 
Gannon reached a hand to pull Soizey up from the mess and saw the left side of his face was severely burned and the left eye socket was missing its’ vessel, “I never answered your question, Soizey.  Yes, Cragg has fucked us again.”
***
A lock of Lt. Ulricht’s blonde hair had slipped from beneath her cap and Thexian scarves as she crawled through the remains of her command squad.  The blonde lock sopped up the gore left by her ravaged squad.  That single lock was stained a bold bright red reminiscent of the fresh lava flows of Tetrahoth. She dropped down from the ruined rooftop on the single story bunker where her command squad was slaughtered.  Her uniform was smeared and dripping with the gruesome carnage of her companions as she stormed across the cratered battlefield.  She shouted with the fury of a warp spawned deamon “Cragg! Move your squad now, now, now emperor damn you!”       
Cragg, who did not notice her steadfast pace as she stormed toward his position, shouted back, “we’re trying ma’am.  The debris is too hard to manage.”  Cragg felt a tap on his shoulder and turned, “What is it private?”
There stood Lt. Ulricht and the butt of her plasma pistol as it careened toward the bridge of his nose.  It connected with such force that the men standing at the in front of Cragg heard the breaking of his nose and the cracking of the handle of her plasma pistol.  Cragg writhed on the ground as if he had suffered a grievous wound.  “If you not going to use them, allow me,” spit Lt. Ulricht in contempt, “I’d kill you now but I am going to need every person I can get to carry the scores of wounded from your incompetence.”
“Open fire on all priority targets on my command,” Lt. Ulricht shouted. She whipped her head around to Cragg’s squad which caused her blood drenched lock to spatter and christen them with the gore du jour, “On my order we surge forward to reinforce Sgt. Gannon.”
Specialist Wesson, with fresh blood drops across his face, spun the knob at the end of the line from the fuel tanks and opened the nozzle on his flame thrower and replied, “We’re with you, Lieu.”
**
A torrent of fire erupted from the line of Echo company across the street, which caused screams and wails abound from the enemy in all directions around the building where they stay.  Gannon turned toward Soizey, “Grab the flame thrower, cut the straps for the tank off of Werst, but leave the tank on the ground, we aren’t going far.” Soizey grabbed the flame thrower as ordered and crouched then moved to the north corner of the outer wall of the ruined building.  The tank scrapped along the ground slowly as Soizey struggle to pull it through the pile of bodies.  “On my signal light the place up through the window.”
Gannon stood in front of the window.  The infantry swung their lasguns toward him and opened fire. “Go,” Gannon shouted as Soizey propped himself against the window frame and pushed the barrel of the flame thrower through the window. The enemy was set aflame though one lucky shot hit Gannon and penetrated his shoulder armor and set fire to it then scorched his flesh beneath. He dropped down to his knee out of the view from the window and tilted his head away from the flames as his already burned left hand unhooked the flaming piece of gear from his body. 
Meanwhile, Soizey had dropped the flamer as he leaned against the wall.  Through his only eye he spotted another enemy charge around the southern corner again straight toward them.  Soizey solemnly said, “It’s been a pleasure, sir,” and mustered the last bit of strength he had in him and threw himself in front of the enemy.  The action, while valiant, was his final act as no less than three bayonets ran him through.  His body collapsed on those of his fallen comrades. 
Gannon, still kneeling, grabbed his pistol from the ground after he had shed his flaming shoulder armor and shot from the hip, which dropped one and caused another to stumble in the pool of gore.  His chainsword roared as he stood to meet the charging squad.  He swiped at the first to approach with his chainsword and lopped off his arm, then another moved in and stabbed Gannon in his exposed right shoulder with the bayonet.  Gannon dropped his chainsword and stumbled backward.  He tried to control his stumble so that his back would be against the wall but he backed into another enemy. He danced to his right but only found another enemy.  He glanced to his left only to catch the butt of a lasgun with his jaw.  He dropped to the ground and disappeared from the view of Lt. Marcum.
Lt. Marcum, who had watched the heroic display of valor of Sgt. Gannon and Pvt. Soizey, could do little to save them as there were too many other priority targets to deal with and could now only take vengeance.  “4-1 fire at the 12!”  The exploding shells of the heavy bolter and the searing shower of las fire painted the outer wall of the ruined building with the innards of the offending enemy infantry.
*
The bursts of autocannon fire chewed up the street all around Lt. Ulricht’s squad as it ran across the wide boulevard toward the last stand of Sgt. Gannon.  She had saw Gannon fall and she had seen the revenge brought by Lt. Marcum.   One of her squad fell to the burst on autocannon shell and rent his leg from his body.  “Keep moving forward,” ordered Lt. Ulricht when they finally made it across the street. 
Spc. Wesson and Spc. Graham brought their load to bear on the squad that lingered along the south wall of the ruined building.  As Lt. Ulricht moved through the flaming remanants of the squad she observed a star shaped mark seared into the head of one whose face was still intact. 
She paused at a window to peer inside.  She could hear rummaging and the occasional order being delivered but little else when she spotted what she determined to be the enemy commanding officer alone and watching the movement and position of Lt. Marcum’s squad.  She turned to her specialists, “Climb through the window. I am going to creep forward and draw his attention this way. I want the two of you to flank around the rear.  When I come forward, light him up.”
Lt. Ulricht climbed through the window. Wesson and Graham stalked quickly but quietly through the outskirts of the ruins to approach from the rear.  Lt. Ulricht crept slowly through the rubble.  She had a hard time gaining her footing as much of the rubble was still loose as if the building’s collapse was recent.  Hidden in the darkness she stopped in front of a pool of light that flooded the area from a hole in the ceiling.  The burts of autocannon fire hit the building and caused a bit more dust shake loose and fall through the ceiling. 
One especially hard hit burst through the wall upstairs as a bit more of the ceiling collapsed just behind the enemy commander.  He turned to see what had a happened and stared for just a moment toward Lt. Ulricht’s position.  Lt. Ulricht froze in her place.  He took a few steps over the freshly collapsed ceiling and moved toward the veil of light she hid behind.  She backed away slowly but the movement caused a shift in the fallen rubble which caused her foot to fall into a pocket of loose shattered ferrocrete and become trapped beneath the shifting debris.  She quietly struggled to pull her foot out but it would not budge. 
The enemy commander continued to move toward her.  He drew his bolt pistol as he silently stalked forward.  Lt. Ulricht, plasma pistol already drawn, pulled the pin on a krak grenade.  She waited silently as the commanding officer approached the veil of light.  She saw him penetrate the light and could see his eyes widen as the grenade flew passed his face and up through the hole that caused the light to shine on the floor.  He stepped backward and shot wildly into the darkness while Lt. Ulricht ducked and fired her plasma pistol up toward him.  The bolts exploded around Lt. Ulricht with bits of ferrocrete shrapnel flying.  A piece lodged in her singed hip from the first encounter with the traitor guard and she cursed the pain.  Suddenly, the krak grenade that she threw through the hole in the ceiling exploded.
A large section of ceiling collapsed on the enemy commander while a smaller chunk crushed Lt. Ulricht’s leg.  As the dust settled Wesson and Graham moved in and secured the area.  Lt. Ulricht was pinned, in pain, and alone in the darkness.  She could barely hear the soft sounds of pattering feet on ground over the rumble of building further parts of the building collapsing.  The urge to close her eyes was overwhelming and despite her best efforts she succumbed to her overpowering inclination.
“I think I see something over here Wesson,” Spc. Graham whispered, “Yep, here she is.”
“Is she still alive?” Spc. Wesson inquired while keeping with the same sullen tone.
Spc. Graham took out his medkit and waved some smelling salts under her nose.  Lt. Ulricht shook her head, disturbing a large quantity that had settled on her.  “Glad to see your still around, Lieu.” We need to get moving.  The remaining infantry are falling back.”  Wesson and Graham removed the ceiling rubble from her leg.
Lt. Ulricht tried to stand on her own but in addition to the shard of ferrocrete in her hip, her leg had broken just above the knee.  Spc. Wesson dropped his flamer fuel tank and allowed Lt. Ulricht to use him as support. “Wait, before we go, I want to see him.”  Wesson walked Lt. Ulricht over to the enemy Commander.  With her plasma pistol trained on the commander she questioned, “Graham, is he still alive?” 
“Barely, ma’am.”
“Wake him up,” she said.  Graham knelt beside him and brought out his medkit.  The commander’s eyes flickered open.  “Why are you doing this?  Why are you fighting us?  The enemy are the mutants that have overrun this planet. Why do you not stand with us?”
The enemy commander coughed a weak cough that sent a spattering of blood to add to the growing pool of blood on the floor and blew a small cloud of dust away from his mouth.  He gargled in a wheezing voice that struggled for air, “We … can’t let you … leave.  Can’t you … feel it?  You’re … tainted.  Wherever you go … your people will … carry the impurities … with you.  We can ... not allow this.”
Indignantly she responded, “We are tainted? You command over troops that bare the mark of the renegade and traitors to the imperial cause.”
“You have no ... idea what is headed ... this way.  I’ve done what was nec... essary to protect ... our purity ... and because of Their pro... tection we remain pure.  You are not ...  We will find protection with .. the warp.  Your soul ... will be erased ... your body ... will become seed.” 
“Pathetic traitor!" Lt. Ulricht summoned from deep in her throat a wet ball of bloody mucus and spat directly onto the commander's cheek.  "I may not know what is coming but I know you won't be there." Lt. Ulricht reloaded her plasma pistol and leveled it at the commander.
“It has … already begun.  At least ... I die unspoiled.  Will you … be able to say … the same?”





























6 comments:

  1. Awesome write up man. Love the tie into the Traitor Guard I'll never get around to working on. Very good story dude, lots of violence and mystery. Love the end, could of been a movie...and would of been better then Prometheus!

    So who does Lt. Ulricht look like anyway, well in your mind when you write?

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  2. Agreed! Apologies for not posting sooner. I actually read it twice. I must say, the format is very similar to the twenty or so 40k novels I've read. Time for the next step brah!

    Seriously.. what do Lt. Ulricht's ta-tas look like? Is she attracted to Gannon? Will she be raped by a chaos daemon? Tell! Tell!

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  3. That's one of the downsides of writing war porn/battle reports is that the characters are a little flat. I really haven't thought of a specific look for the characters other than Ulricht being blonde because I am focused on trying to get to the next sequence. I guess I kind of picture her as a butchy femme. If you will picture in your mind:

    Lt. Ulricht’s face is hard as granite because of her sharp nordic features, piercing ice blue eyes with a 20 yard stare that could knock a man down, and thin pale pink expressionless lips that often dam the spouting of her true assessments about some of her subordinates. Her long bob blonde hairstyle is an indication of her patient and meticulous nature as it is usually pulled back not in a bun but more how two gentle rivers merge together where one just slides underneath the other. When dressed in combat gear her uniformly strong physique blends in with the rest of her squad being the average height of the THeXian male but slightly gaunter than average. In her PT gear or dress uniform she displays a distinctly feminine silhouette because of her childbearing hips and practical bosoms.

    Not that I have thought about it much…

    Seriously, now that you have made me invest even further in her it is going to be difficult to write her death.

    Justin: What do you mean next step?

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  4. Problem with that is everybody wants to write and nobody wants to read.

    I don't know. A few years ago black library did open submissions for Fear the Alien book. I thought about submitting something and had a few ideas but never got around to writing them. If they did something like that again maybe I would submit something.

    If I could come up with a good original idea that would be something. Problem is the long stuff I write just meanders along and I feel I am being repetitive. Hell with a few of these I already feel like I am repeating myself when it comes to describing the goriness of it all.

    Am I repetitive as I feel sometimes?

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  5. Sure... battles, in general, become repetitive. Still quite entertaining as a whole.

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