Editing Heresy of the Angry Marines (Pt 1) (section)

===The Marines Advance===

The bang of bolter fire dissipated as it cut through the air, barely reaching the ears of the farthest spread marines. A sergeant smashed a diamond hard rock under the force of his power foot, an Angry Marine exclusive weapon. A small detachment of marines subordinate to him sparred with their power bats, the matter disruption fields turned off. Though belligerent, the marines were not so stupid as to risk killing their battle-brothers. The brothers who used power swords sheathed the weapons and beat their comrades with their armored fists. With his injured hands, Dune resolved to grip the blade and exchanged blows with the sergeant, using the sword hilt as a club.  The sergeant tackled the psyker and the two of them fought for a minute or two, their righteous anger somewhat tempered by the rough-housing. When a call rang through the encampment, Dune looked up from smashing the sergeant’s head into the ground.  

"THIS ISN’T OVER,” he said, clasping his head after the sergeant’s repeated bludgeoning of it with his bat. With an acrobatic wriggle, the sergeant got to his feet and went to see what the 2nd Company Captain had to say. 

“C’MON, CHUCKLEFUCKS! WE’RE TAKING THE BATTLE TO THEM!” Satchel cried, sending a wave of frustration through the marines, asking why it took so long to reach this consensus. The others hit their fists together in anticipation of another raging battle in the Emperor’s name.

During the down time, aerial assistance came down from the fleet, sending transports for the Astartes. The most numerous were somewhat familiar to imperial eyes, hovering, quick moving skimmers holding a few marines each. But the quintessential Land Speeder had been changed somewhat by the Angry Marines. The light armor had been bolstered considerably and the shape lent itself to hard angles that were harsh and simple. The propulsion was stronger and the engine more furious in its look and sound. The nose of the craft was still covered in gore and dried blood spatter, likely a request from the marines themselves to commemorate kills and to laugh about it. These Rage Speeders were powerful battering rams that allowed one passenger seat’s worth of space for the Angry Marines to slash anything that slides off the nose, the plasma grenade launchers and heavy bolters supplying rare firepower. Supplied with these vehicles, the battle-brothers fought with fist and bat to get to a position in the craft, the actual designated pilots having to resort to more and more violent methods to keep the others at bay. Eventually, many of the marines had embarked on what were effectively two man battering rams while the rest had to wait for more vehicles to arrive. A cocky laugh and a flick of the middle finger drove the point home to the grounded warriors. 

Dune shoved a prospective ganger away, citing his lack of anger as being unworthy of boarding the vehicle, though doing so let another marine board the craft ahead of him. This incited him with such rage that he almost broke his power sword over his knee, instead backhanding a brother that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Needless to say, a fight soon broke out and missed blows brought more combatants. The Angry Marines devolved into a pack of brawlers, but the scuffle ended quickly as the Rage Speeders departed with a furious kick, blazing across the rocky terrain. With the enraged screams abated, the speeder crews entered a strange state of focus, searching high and low for the enemy. Though concentrating, they were not subtle or quiet. Many a bolthole was given the warm reception of a plasma grenade or utter destruction from the end of a chainsword. Occasionally a piece of an already slain tyranid flew up in a haze of smoke, but the marines would be so far unlucky. 

Something moved at the edge of one marine’s vision. He turned rapidly to see whatever it was in full and found himself facing a Warrior. In silent agreement with his passenger, the pilot charged directly at the tyranid. The creature noticed the immediate threat, not difficult when said threat is a bold yellow battering ram filled with screaming lunatics revving chainswords and yelling curses, and promptly began to run, quickly. At the rate it was running and the speed their vehicle was travelling, the Rage Speeder’s crew would surely miss. But the pilot wasn’t so sure. Turning his vehicle and letting momentum take them, he power-slid the hovering craft at bone-breaking speed into the tyranid. The passenger took his chance through the open side of the speeder and cut a whirlwind of slashes into the Warrior, turning it into a fountain of blood. 

“FUCK YEAH! SUCK ON THAT, INSECT MOTHERFUCKER!” the marine shouted, kicking the corpse furiously until it freed itself from the side of their vehicle. His fist met the driver’s and the two reported their kill. “HEY, CHUMPS! BIG BUGS READY TO SQUASH RIGHT OVER HERE!”

“DON’T NEED TO TELL US TWICE! PREPARE TO GET WRECKED!” The other pilots converged on the site, their speeders slamming into each other from their enthusiasm. The pilots, in a surprising act of restraint, refrained from beating each other senseless. They heard something, under the surface. This tactic of breaking from underneath was getting very irritating. The speeders dispersed, their impressive speed clearing hundreds of metres from the site broken. In sync with each other, the pilots all turned towards the creature, half of a Trygon exposed to the air. But this time, the lithe beast wriggled free from the rabbit hole of its own making. The marines ignored this and continued to build speed, distance closing dramatically. As he went, the vanguard of the ramming force noticed movement in the hole and changed his course slightly. 

“MAN THE GUN IF YOU HANDLE IT!” he said to his passenger who picked up the heavy bolter and aimed at the hole. A smaller shape continued to shift in the hidden portion and then it remained still as the Rage Speeder barreled fourth furiously. Suddenly, there was a bang on the underside of the craft. The marines looked at each other disbelievingly and their vehicle stopped charging and started falling. Coming short of the hole, the Rage Speeder exploded into a ball of flame. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” a Rage Pilot screeched before urging his gunner to fire every one of their weapons on the hole. Flames and bolts screamed towards the opening in the ground and the creatures inside scattered, the slow ones instantly vaporised by the barrage. Now the marines could identify what killed the other two. Crouched figures protected by a hard shell and molded to a gun, the Hive Guard were notorious among the Imperium for utterly destroying tanks and transports. These light fliers were easy prey. The Rage Pilot sank his machine low to the ground and accelerated as quickly as he could, smashing into the nearest Hive Guard with enough force to rip the gun from its arms. The squealing tyranid was ripped apart the passenger marine, power field effortlessly tearing the creature in two. But in their fervor for revenge, they had neglected to notice the giant form of the Trygon in their path. The two marines rammed into with full force. 

“THINK YOU’RE BIG AND TOUGH? SUCK ON THIS, BUG-FUCK!” the Rage Pilot shouted before impact. The craft’s fuel tank ruptured and detonated, taking a massive chunk of the Trygon’s lower body flesh, sending the giant to the ground. The two marines were flung weightlessly in the other direction, their armor weakened and shattered by the detonation. But there was salvation for them yet. Sticky webs of some unknown substance whipped around the marines and their impact with the ground was softened. The gunner looked up weakly and bright yellow filled his vision. The color in front of him lumbered forward and he knew it was a Belligerent Engine.