A vessel of metal hurtles through the atmosphere at several times the speed of sound. Faster and faster it goes, picking up more and more speed, seeming to set fire the very air surrounding it. It continues to streak to the ground below, accompanied by a flock of other metal hunks falling to their inevitable destination on the ground. Inside, the Space Marines of the Dark Angels chapter whisper hymns to the Empress and the Lioness, thanking them for their grace, for in this battle, the colts of the third company were going to need all the guidance they could get. The pod slams into the ground, creating a huge crater in the spot it hit. Dust is flung into the air, as the hiss of the doors opening rings through the air. More and more, the slamming of pods becomes an orchestra, playing the symphony of death to the ears of the Empress’ enemies. The space marines of Squad Telemoreus step out, forming up on their sergeant, clad in the green of their chapter. The commander yells out to his charges, “Brothers! Today we serve a righteous cause. We slay the enemies of the Imperium, the domain of the Holy Empress. We fight as if she is watching us. Only in death does duty end!” A symphony of voices echoed the last part of this impromptu speech.
The marines ran out and fired bolters into the squad of traitor guardsmen, each bolt hitting it’s mark, tearing flesh from body, and leaving sizeable chunks in their corpses. As the squad advanced, Sergeant Telemoreus noticed one of them was still alive. He pinned the body against the rock with the hoof of his power armor, driving his power horn though the head of the heretic.He unstuck his sword from the rock and continued his advance towards the objective, a large citadel looming in the distance ahead.
Meanwhile, the Deathwing of the 1st company’s squad Ferrus feel the rush of the Warp, as they are in transit via teleport onto the battlefield. Faces pop out at them, some leering and some screaming for mercy. They hear the screams of the tortured and the laughs of daemons echo throughout the purple miasma as the battlefield materializes in front of them. With a crack, they arrive on the battlefield, slightly off target, but still intact. The rebels see them and immediately open fire, lasbolts bouncing laughably off the armored goliaths. The Terminators parted allowing the one with the massive autocannon on his back to open fire. The barrels taking a second to gain enough spin, suddenly flashed with shells flying at absurdly high speeds from the body of the gun. Bodies were torn asunder as holes the size of a power-hoof were opened in the bodies of the wounded. A tingling sensation in the air, familiar to the squad of terminators filled the space around them. With a second crack, a large pony in terminator in specially made armor and an ornate thunder hammer and storm shield materialized behind them. “ASTARUS, CHARGE!”, He cried out. Without hesitation, the terminators charged into battle, powerhoof roaring into life with a subvocal command. They charged, the last few lasbolts ricocheting off the armor of the warriors. The first attack was made by Belial, his thunder hammer caving in the chest of the enemy sergeant. A second man had a go at him, swinging the unwieldy chainsword at him, but having it glance hopelessly off the storm shield. He swung again, this time caving in the man’s head, if one can even call it that after a power weapon impacts it. The other traitors began to run in a last ditch effort to save themselves that almost seemed humorous to Belial. He knew that their fate was sealed as he heard the roar of the engines from behind him, for the Raven was on the hunt tonight.
Black clad warriors weaved effortlessly through the trees, as they sped toward their targets. The cowards fled into an open patch of forest, the last mistake they would ever make. The bikers of the squad Admanta hurled themselves into the frantic humans.The first was the chainsword of the Sergeant Reemus, slicing effortlessly through the soft flesh of the militia-colts. The five bikers behind him opened fire with their bolters, the miniature missiles tearing flesh asunder and decimating the helpless guardsponies. It mattered not to the members of the second company the ability of the opponent, only the prospect of the hunt, of striking down another foe of the empress, and the satisfaction of knowing that the enemies of the imperium feared the very name of the Ravenwing. The Attack bike joined the fight, heavy fire tearing into the last remaining ponies. They screeched to a halt at the command of Reemus. “Hold marines. I am receiving word from Sammael. Yes. Yes Sir. Right Away Sir. Ravenwing! We are to ride to the citadel, to mark the path for the members of the Deathwing and the third company. We take pride in the fact that we are the Lion’s chosen. We are Astartes. Space Marines! For the Lioness and the Empress!”
FOR THE LION AND THE EMPRESS,” the voices cheered, engines roaring into life once more as they charged on to the goal ahead of them.
Another figure emerged from a drop pod, only vaguely human in appearance. The warrior’s name was well known through the third company. He stepped out, pneumatic cylinders on his legs hissing as he strode forth from his metal vessel. “Revered Anare online,” the machine said in a mechanical and monotone voice. “I bring swift judgement to the enemies of the Lioness.” The machine’s right arm swiveled up and opened fire onto the large group of guardsponies as the assault cannon spun into life as the Venerable Dreadnought strode forward into battle. Suddenly, a sentinel stepped from the wall of forest the ponies had been hiding behind. The Dreadnought charged it, his power weapon powering up as soon as it hit the sentinel’s cockpit. He reached into the cockpit, pulling out the pilot inside as he was struggling in his last feeble attempts to save his life. The dreadnought closed his fist, crushing the guardspony until he was nothing more than a lifeless mass of flesh and gore he flung into the fleeing guardspony shattering the bones of one of them as he fell to the ground. The dreadnought stepped on him, squeezing his innards out like a tube. The others were nowhere to be found, so the dreadnought continued to his goal, the massive citadel looming several kilometers in the distance.
