I hope it's okay if I make an addition.
Navigator Karon Jonas surveyed the battlescape.
The Righteous Hatred was still there, still drifting in the orbit of Terra. Most of its crew had been dropped; most of those that hadn't descended were working on the endless repairs. Even a vessel as grand as the Righteous Hatred couldn't sustain the bombardment that everyone in the orbit of Terra was receiving.
The sound of wheels behind him alerted Jonas, and Admiral Clarris rolled into the center on his bed. The admiral was recovering from his earlier episodes; it had taken three months, but it seemed he would survive.
If anyone could survive this battle.
"It's an odd sight, isn't it?"
"With all respect, Admiral, this is far more than odd."
Clarris shook his head, in the process knocking away the pillow. "It's more, but odd as well. The greatest battle of all time, taking place over humanity's homeworld.... And I'm there to see it."
"We have bigger concerns."
"I know. The shields are virtually down, weapons batteries are ruined, and the only thing keeping us alive is lack of interest from anyone else. Lucky I have a small cannon in this bed, but we need to be prepared for boarding. I know, Navigator, I know.
But the thing is, Terra is in pain. Massive events are going on here, and we need to stay. I feel it. How are the Guard?"
"Peyes, Garick, and Birka are all dead. Garick and Peyes were smashed apart by a bunch of Tyranids who were trying to uncover something from below the Palace. Whatever that thing was, it killed them. Lions saved the rest of our men.
Birka- well, there was a Night Lords offensive. Birka was out with a small detachment, and we lost the signal. They could still be alive, for all we know: I heard the Eighth takes prisoners."
Clarris shuddered at the thought of what the Traitor Astartes would do to any unfortunate enough to be caught by them.
"Commissar Dawson is on the ship, commanding the five thousand people we have on board. Lions is still alive down there. So is Astor, last we heard."
"At least some survived."
The siren blared quite suddenly, interjecting into the calm of the discussion. Within minutes, gunfire was heard on the decks.
"Could you remind us why we're still in orbit?"
"Admiral, if I could get us out of here, I would."
Clarris pushed a pedal, rolling himself towards the bridge. He would be safer there, and the position was also more defensible. Jonas hesitated for a moment, then rushed down. He had a few grenades, as well as the Third Eye.
Running to a viewing platform above the cargo bay, Jonas watched the invasion unfold.
The attackers were mutated Astartes in red and bronze armor- World Eaters. They ran around the vessel, each murdering separately.
Dawson tried to rally his men; there was still a chance to win this. There were perhaps twenty or thirty Chaos Astartes, and five thousand defenders. The Commissar shot a man trying to run away.
Unfortunately, it wouldn't work. The goal of a Commissar was to make his troops fear him more than their enemies.
It was hard to fear anything more than the World Eaters.
Jonas shot a few times with his pistol, but the giants refused to die. It was still too early to use the grenades. The enemy was, in the end, stoppable. Even now it was killable; Jonas saw the Commissar shoot an unhelmeted Traitor Legionnaire in the face, blowing it off.
"See them die!"
Then, a chainaxe brushed off one of Dawson's arms. The Commissar swung backwards with the other, but it was too late. Though the next swing missed its aim- Dawson's head- it knocked off much of his sword, and on the ground, Dawson could do nothing but look in fear at the giant Champion of Khorne.
"Know this! Your greatest champions are no match for me! Know that you have been bested today by Kharn of the World Eaters!"
And, even as the remnants of Dawson's sword pierced his right leg, Kharn the Betrayer cut off the Commissar's head.
And the Guard ran.