Editing M43 (section)

===Chaos comes to Rustagrim===
'''4 824 588.M42'''
: The planet Rustagrim is located close to the galactic core, to its east, in the Ultima Segmentum. And currently it is the source of a massive daemonic incursion. It’s capitol, Hive Juris is the last bastion of the planet, the only thing that is keeping Rustagrim from falling completely to Chaos. Luckily, the PDF were based out of Juris.

: However, they were not up against mere cultists but the very spawn of the Empyrean.And right now PDF Private Samreal was terrified. He was hidden behind a hab-shelter, knees tucked under his chin and lasgun around his shins. He was so jittery one would think that he had downed a couple gallons of recaf. He could stand cultists, they were just crazy people. Even his wife could pass for a cultist, she was that crazy sometimes. He let out a small chuckle to himself. The joy quickly passed as something scary roared a couple meters away. His jitters doubled as he heard heavy footfalls and the crunching of rubble advance toward his hiding spot. A clawed hand gripped the corner a meter above his head. A hot, misty breeze washed over his neck. It was putrescent and smelled of death. He struggled to bring his head up, to look at whatever monstrosity was looming over him. His uncontrollable tears quickly ended as his screams added to the din that was Hive Juris.


: The red and purple streaked sky parted as drop-pods pierced the murky cover. Spirals of smoke whirled in the overwash behind them. Compared to a normal drop, there were far fewer pods than normal. But even just a few Astartes can turn the tide. They slammed into various parts of Hive Juris, adding to the tab of collateral. Such are Astartes. Very few people actually noticed the pods as they fell, mostly because everyone was either focused on hiding and staying alive or shooting the daemon in front of them and staying alive. The Astartes did not care. Flashy entrances didn’t suit this chapter, they weren’t like those Partridges. As the ramps fell and the Space Marines disembarked, those around suddenly surged with confidence. The PDF looked upon the yellow giants with reverence. The Lamenters had come to Rustagrim.


: Thungrier stomped along the street toward his squads objective. They were headed toward the PDF headquarters. The PDF weren’t all that effective, but rallying whatever troops and men they had left would still be of use. With the PDF in the fight, the more the Lamenters could concentrate on taking down the daemons assaulting the hive while the men could deal with the plethora of cultists. <span style="color:#b8860b">“DAEMON,”</span> Thungrier heard Kastor shout from behind him. Sure enough a Bloodletter was plodding down the street, babbling incoherently. It picked up its pace when it noticed them. The battle was joined. Thungrier, the sargeant of the squad, ordered his men in a rough semicircle, <span style="color:#daa520">“Engage the enemy whenever a shot presents itself. I’ll keep him busy!”</span> Thungrier unsheathed a Power Sword. <span style="color:#8b0000">“BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!”</span> The two weapons met and cast sparks and jagged trails of electricity. The Bloodletter was matching Sergeant Thungrier blow for blow. The only thing going in his favor were his squadmates off to the side taking shots at the daemon and clearing cultists that were unlucky enough to wander into the battlezone. 


: The daemon was a highly skilled swordsman. That was to be expected of a daemon of Khorne. It parried his sword and then spun and knocked the blade aside. No longer in danger of being cut, it leapt upon the sergeant and pushed him to the ground. It went for his neck. Spittle formed droplets on his visor as he barely held the daemons gnashing teeth away from him. He couldn’t chance reaching for his sword, he already had it jammed against the daemons throat, a stopgap at best. The Bloodletter was getting stronger as it sensed its victory and offering draw near. He needed to make a decision. Suddenly the weight was lifted from his arm along with the daemon. He looked over to see Kastor bear hugging the daemon as he charged into the side of a hab-building. The hole smoked and bits of the hab were still falling down. An inhuman grunt preceded Kastor’s headless body flying out of the hole and denting a hab opposite.


: The Bloodletter stepped out, snarling, happy. Thungrier had retrieved his sword and snarled back. The two charged at each other once again. Blow for blow, both swung and stabbed on equal ground. A massive swing from each brought both swords together. Metal ground together, sparking and smoking, as both tried to leverage to a better position. Without warning Thungrier reached out and grabbed the daemonic blade. He had made a decision. The Bloodletter shrieked in surprise as it was yanked toward the Space Marine. Thungrier shouted part war cry, part agony as he could feel the taint worming its way through the flesh of his hand. He helmed cracked against the beasts crested face. It staggered back and Thungrier gave no quarter. A jab and a swing later, the body sans head and hand dropped to the ground. The sergeant turned to his men and looked at them. Despite not seeing their faces, he knew what they were thinking. Rev spoke up, <span style="color:#b8860b">“I don’t remember such battled doctrines being approved in the Codex…”</span> Thungrier looked at the Marine, barely beyond neophyte. He sighed, letting loose the breath he didn’t realized he’d been holding. His hand reached up to his broken helmet and tore it off, tossing it to the ground. <span style="color:#daa520">“No Rev,”</span> he held his arm out and swung down, lopping off the tainted appendage, <span style="color:#daa520">“it’s not.”</span>


: Two weeks later, the skies once again parted, this time for a flurry of drop-pods and several Thunderhawks carrying armor. These were not more Lamenters but their progenitors, the Blood Angels. Reports of Lamenters being on Rustagrim reached the parent Chapter and so they went partially to aid their brothers but more so to look into solving their genetic plague that troubled them. Hundreds of Blood Angels rocketed down, reinforcing the now meager amount of Lamenters that remained alive.

: The Chaos forces had been busy as well. Gigantic daemonic engines that belched soot and smoke churned the ground around Hive Juris. Dirt, rock, steel, it mattered not as it was ripped up for some horrendous plan. 


: In the de-facto headquarters, it used to be a hospital, the two captains discussed the situation. Captain Neris spoke, <span style="color:#ffa500">“Do we have any idea what those foul machines are doing? Our ships have not been able to send accurate scans. Perhaps the Blood Angels were able to get accurate readings?”</span> Captain Donatos responded, <span style="color:#8b0000">“We did manage to acquire some data regarding the status of the planet, hive, and current battle. You are...not going to like it.”</span> <span style="color:#ffa500">“hmph. Give it to me anyways. Better to have some intel than no intel,”</span> Neris growled out. Donatos began to explain, <span style="color:#8b0000">“First off, Hive Juris is the only place not given over to Chaos. I am guessing already knew that. Secondly, it would seem that Rustagrim is actually being invaded by an alliance of forces. We found no trace of any actual Undivided forces, but it isn’t merely Khorne or Slaanesh. Which brings me to the final point, the Hell-Machines. They have been preparing a giant ritual. As I fell, I could see an unfinished 8-pointed star with the hive at its center on my auspex.”</span> Captain Neris braced a hand on a table to his right, <span style="color:#ffa500">“Emperor, a ritual? That big? I dare not think of what they intend to bring about. No sense dwelling on what only ‘might’ come about. What are you planning to do? The bulk of Astartes are now yours, I will commit what remains of my company where they can do the most damage.”</span> The two set about planning the defense of what battlements and ground they still held. Rustagrim’s darkest days were still ahead.