Editing Obstinate Marines (section)

=== Dawn of Stubbornness ===

[[Mordecai Toth|Inquisitor Mordecai Toth]] glared at the white-haired Blood Raven. “Captain. I am not questioning your loyalty. But I have to wonder if the events you witnessed on Cyrene perhaps affected your judgment.” Angelos spun around, seething. “I apologize. That was a poor choice of words. But...what?” The tense exchange between the two power-armored men was broken by the keening shriek of a drop pod. Toth tilted his head back and gaped. “Did you call for them?”

“Of course not,” Angelos growled. “I know better.”

The pod slammed into the ground nearly half a click to the north. A plume of dust and Orkish bits rocketed into the sky from the impact. Toth broke into a jog, his artificer armor eating up the distance, Angelos hot on his heels. He reached the edge of the crater and stared.

A small pack of Orks was busily firing away at the six-man squad of Astartes that had climbed out of the pod, who were looking around themselves as if confused. Suddenly, they seemed to notice the Orks around them, and one of them distractedly picked one up and threw it into the others, bowling them over. Before they could react, the squad leader hefted his bolter and took off at a dead sprint, racing for… Toth’s stomach knotted. They were headed directly for the mine where the Key of the Maledictum had been hidden away.

“By the Throne,” Toth grumbled. “They’re called the Partinax Marines for a damned reason…”

Angelos looked at the spectacle and laughed. “Well, this should be entertaining. Come on, we can see it better from over there.”

The newcomers wasted no time. The group of Marines charged forward through the forest, plowing through the brush as if it weren’t there. A small cluster of equipment pods landed ahead of them, and they snatched more weapons from them without even slowing down.


Atop a nearby hillock, the Dark Reapers of Macha’s task force watched, unseen. “Farseer,” one reported, tapping his helmet, “A group of Imperials has arrived. They are NOT the Ravens.”

“Who are they?” Macha’s irritated voice replied.

“Ah…I’m not sure. They’re plowing through the Orks like a molecular stiletto through air.”

“Well… how close are they to the Key?”

“Very.”


As if they had been listening in, the Astartes suddenly changed course, sprinting through a started clump of Orks who had wandered into their path. The Nob leading them saw the commotion and waved his choppa at them. “Dere’s da Space Marines! Krump ‘em good, boyz!” The greenskins still on their feet roared in response.

“WAAAAGH! Gut ‘em! We’ll…uh…” they trailed off as the Marines charged, heedless, through the clearing and out the other side, ignoring the Orks completely.

“W…wot do we do, boss?” one asked the Nob hesitantly.

“FOLLOW THEM, YA GIT!” he yelled back. “Iz you blind? They must be headin’ to a betta fight!” The Orks nodded at their leader’s impeccable logik and trundled off after the distant Astartes.

In the middle of a ruined Imperial chapel, nearly a mile ahead, Farseer Macha bowed her head respectfully to the Dark Reaper Exarch who stood before her. “Thank you, my dear friend, for your sacrifice. I must call upon you to execute it now.”

“You can not ask for what I give freely, Farseer. My life is Biel-Tan’s.” Without another word, he strode over the lip of the ruined building and vanished in a brilliant red fireball.

“The Seers have chosen! The Young King has sacrificed himself. We see now, the War God! Kaela Mensha Khaine!” she called out, arms raised.

“I…HAVE AWOKEN…TO DO BATTLE…WITH THE ENEMIES OF THE ELDAR…” a reverberating voice said from beyond the shattered building façade. “NOW DIRECT ME…TO THE – OW! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Macha blinked at the deviation from the ritual. Curiosity got the best of her, and she inched forward to look over the edge of the crumbling stairs in front of the building.

Khaine was sprawled on his front, the Wailing Doom lodged in the ground. A small band of Astartes was trampling over his molten form, apparently unaware that they had even hit anything. Macha gaped at the affront. The frontmost Marine turned a corner and ran out of sight as the others followed. As the last one neared the side of the building, Macha fired off a shot from her pistol at the edge of the building, catching the Marine’s attention.

“Space Marine!” she yelled, livid beyond imagining. The Marine glanced at her. “Who do you think you are?! Get back here and answer for what you have done!”

“…No.” And without another word, the Marine ran after his colleagues, leaving Macha to gape like a fish under her helmet.


Several kilometers away, Isador, Angelos, and Toth watched the spectacle through their long-optics with varying levels of emotion. Toth was finding it hard to stifle the impulse to groan, Isador was alternating between amusement and private concern, and Angelos could barely suppress a laugh. “I could watch this all day!” Angelos said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Why are we simply allowing this?” Isador asked, directing his question to the Inquisitor.

“You want to go tell them to stop?” Toth asked pointedly.

Back in the city, the War God struggled to his feet, wrath oozing from his molten face. “THOSE…MORTALS DARED…TO BOWL ME OVER? THEIR DOOM CREAKS FROM…THEIR TWISTED BODIES…I SHALL CLEAVE THEM RIGHT AGAIN!”

“And we shall follow, Venerated Khaine,” Macha said. She turned to her Warlocks and bade them follow, but before they could, an animalistic roar sounded from down the road. The assembled Eldar turned to see a small army of Orks chasing after the Marines, panting.

“Dere’s a fight worth havin’, boyz!” the Nob at the head of the pack roared. “Kill da big burnin’ one! I want his head for me pointy stikk!”

Angelos burst out laughing at the sight, as the shocked Eldar warhost and the rabble of Orks fell upon each other with a fury. “Oh, holy Emperor, this is the best thing I’ve seen all week!”


Less than two miles away from where the Eldar god of War was having a very bad day, a pair of Alpha Legionnaires stood plotting. “Your…assurances leave me cold, Sssssindri,” the balding Chaos Lord said, glaring at his counterpart.

“My Lord Bale, you need not concern yourself. The Eldar and the Orks are useful tools, no question. Their distractions, and the sacrifices of their blood, will be more than enough!” the Sorcerer said soothingly. He gestured grandly at the collapsed building behind him, where a small pack of cultists were busily clearing away rubble. “The Key of the Maledictum shall be ours in no time, I promise you.”

“We shall see,” Bale snarled. “I am rather more concerned by the arrival of the Space Marines. They could find the ritual sites before we have a chance to perform them fully.”

“Always a risk, yes, but the Blood Ravens are too busy evacuating the civilians of the planet to stop us,” Sindri said, turning his back on Bale and walking up to the building.

“So you said,” Bale rejoined, turning to follow. “The Blood Ravens are – OW!”

“What now, Lord Bale?” Sindri started to say as he looked back, but before he could finish, he was knocked off his feet by a charging pile of ceramite. Sindri struggled to his feet and watched in disbelief as the crumbling wall of the temple - and the cultists hacking away at it – flew apart, and six Marines charged into the building.


“No! The Key! We must protect it!” Bale roared, running after the Astartes. Inside was bedlam, as cultists poured in after the running Marines, who had barely even slowed down after running through the wall. The assembled cultists sent a stream of poorly-aimed lasbolts after the running men, but it was no use. Before Bale and Sindri’s horrified eyes, the Astartes leading the charge ran up to the slow-levitating Key and…body-slammed it into the far wall with an echoing CRUNCH. As one, the cultists screamed and bolted, dropping their weapons. The two Alpha Legionnaires stood aghast as the Marines brushed themselves off and looked around themselves, as if only then noticing where they were.

“Well, I think we’re done here,” the one who had destroyed the Key said to the others, eliciting a chorus of “yeah,” “uh huh,” and “job well done.”

“YOU WAIT JUST ONE DAMN MINUTE!” Bale roared, his warped voice echoing through the building. He charged forward, swinging his scythe with all the strength his rage and disappointment could lend him. “I AM NOT FINISHED WITH YOU, CORPSE-WORSHIPPERS!”
“Finished?” one Marine asked of the others, shrugging.

“Finished,” the pointman responded. They six men formed back up into the wedge they had been in before, now pointed back at the door…and through Bale.

“I WILL RIP THE MEAT FROM YOUR CARCASSES, SPACE MAR…wait no!” Bale had time to say before the charging arrowhead of ceramite and adamantine slammed into him yet again. Sindri barely managed to jump aside before the Astartes charged through the gap they had opened, running back the way they had come. “Argh…” Bale moaned from the floor, gingerly picking himself back up. He limped over to where the flabbergasted Sorcerer was standing, and joined him in staring at the retreating Marines. “Sssssindri,” he growled, “who the fuck were they?”

“I…have no idea,” Sindri managed.


The Inquisitor and his two Astartes compatriots watched the scene from their hilltop perch. Isador and Angelos glared at the Inquisitor. “Chaos Space Marines? Here?” Angelos said coldly. “Funny how you didn’t stop to tell us.”

“It was irrelevant, Captain,” Toth said warily. “This world will be swallowed by the Warp Storm regardless of your or my efforts. And now that the Astartes Partinax have destroyed the relic that would have allowed the Alpha Legion to summon the Daemon of the Maledictum, my job here is done. Forgive my earlier suspicion.”

“Yes…”Isador said, carefully hiding his disappointment. Before Toth could expound upon his statement, the charging Marines ran back up to the pod they had ridden down in, still sitting in the crater below. Angelos gave Toth one last frigid stare before jogging down.

“Brothers. Well done down there,” he said, gesturing at the carnage in the city. The sergeant looked him over before returning the gesture with a curt nod.

“Thank you, Captain,” he said, tapping a red button inside the pod. A Thunderhawk Transporter swooped down in the distance, homing in on the beacon.

“I was rather hoping that you could help us drive off the remaining xenos while the Guard evacuates the civilians, or perhaps neutralize the Chaos forces here,” Angelos said, his voice trailing off when he saw the look on the other man’s face. He knew better than to try to change a Partinax’s mind, so he changed tracks. “Let us at least help you load up your pod.”


“Sure, thanks,” the Marine said as the Thunderhawk flew overhead, opening its cargo claws. The Blood Ravens and the Partinaxes hefted the pod into the claw and clambered aboard, leaving Toth to glare at the ship. As it lifted, and he ignored Angelos’ jaunty wave, he turned back to his own ship, flexing his power-armored hands.

His '''empty''' hands.

He suddenly shot bolt upright as realization hit him.

Aboard the grey Thunderhawk, the leader of the Partinax looked over Angelos’ armament with naked envy. 
“Nice Daemonhammer.”

“Thank you, brother,” Angelos said, testing the heft of the weapon. 

“It was a gift.”

FIN