Chapter the First: Scattered Clouds Pt 3 of 5
As Veghard and Abelard began to move out, not far away a lone warrior was running a race of his own. His armor declared him a space marine of the Ultramarines. The signature color of his armor was blasted away in several places by enemy fire, and though he moved with strength and purpose, obvious battle damage gave testimony that the marine had not arrived unscathed. Running a zigzag pattern, the marine would stop, scan the area around him. Occasionally stooping to examine the ground, and then take off running again. His posture alert and his weapon ready, the marine hunted.
His name was Novarius and he was not a happy man. His squad had been decimated, leaving only him to carry out their mission. The support that had been expected by the guard units had vanished like the dew of the hot mornings on the world they were attempting to defend. The eldar force that had somehow moved onto the world was far greater than Novarius had ever engaged and after a run in against a squad of warp spiders, Novarius found himself alone and deep within enemy territory.
Again, he tapped his helmet. The vicious mono filament strands fired into his squad without warning had damaged his armor, though it had kept him alive. His battle brothers were not so successful at dropping to cover. The warp spiders had appeared and then disappeared, without returning, giving Novarius the indication that the attack had been an attack of opportunity while they were moving elsewhere. Whatever damage had been sustained by his armor, vox and satellite data were both knocked out. He still had the basic tactical data along with his inertial locator detailing where he and his squad had originated from. Doctrine stipulated that he advance, following his inertial locator, until arriving at the deployment zone or he reestablished vox communications, but as he had recovered from the Eldar ambush, the Guard’s artillery began saturating the area that his return path indicated.
The blue of his armor, newly scored by the incoming fire of the vanished aspect troops, still shined bright. The shoulder pauldrons still proudly bore the golden U of the Ultramarines. His bolter clacked as he installed a fresh clip, and after taking a moment to orient himself, Novarius began to move out. The barrage pattern would move over his immediate area and he had no desire to attempt to sit though an artillery barrage fired by his own support. Unable to properly apply battle doctrine, Novarius moved through the forest, attempting to follow the direction the warp spiders had seem to vanish towards.
Moving through the underbrush, Novarius’s progress was masked with the sound of artillery and small arms fire. He had successfully made his way out of the barrage pattern and he had managed to orient himself matching terrain to what was left of his tactical information. He found himself wishing for a tech marine for having only the silence of his thoughts as he made his way through the battle disconcerting, even a scout would be good company. Never in a battle had he been without any vox communication of any kind. Moving around a tight copse of wood, Novarius found himself facing the back of six eldar guardians as they lay suppression fire down before their position.
The report of his bolter echoed in his ears and it jerked and leapt as he began firing into the rear of the guardian squad that seemed to be firing out of the forest at a Guard unit. Two of the elder fell under his first salvo while the other four suddenly looked about for where the shots emanated from. Grinning under his helmet, Novarius turned his fire on the fasted of those remaining. More shots rang out as the hapless guardian jerked and fell back, his armor unable to fend off the multiple hits from Novarius.
Shuriken whizzing by his head, the last three guardians brought their catapults to bear on the advancing marine. Several ricocheted off his shoulder and legs, while a scant few managed to stick in his chest but were unable to penetrate through. Novarius continued to fire down on the guardians, but their armor was able to deflect the lethal fire of his bolter when, without warning, one of the guardians suddenly burst into a bloody fine mist as the rounds of a heavy bolter ripped through his armor. Another burst followed the first, demolishing a tree next to Novarius, causing him to seek his own cover and a third burst that spun another guardian to the ground. The last eldar, a woman, reached down to grab her wounded partner and began to drag him away. More bursts cut through the foliage seeking the fleeing eldar and kept Novarius down, but fired blindly they were more of a danger to the marine than the retreating eldar.
The heavy bolter fire ceased, and Novarius felt it was safe to get back to his feet. Bringing his bolter up, he gave chase to the remaining two eldar. They had not even escaped his sight, as he trotted up the trail behind them. The woman continued to try and pull her injured compatriot even as Novarius closed on them. Mercilessly he raised his weapon and relished in its kicking strength.
“Xenos scum. Feel the Emperor’s wrath!”
Novarius slapped a new magazine into the receiver of his bolter. Today he was not only unable to save his battle brothers, but he was almost cut down by friendly fire and rather than an entire squad detailed to the objective, there was only himself. Doctrine dictated he reestablish communication and contact, but without vox and hemmed in with misapplied artillery barrages, he would be hard pressed to accomplish either and that would mean a reprimand or even demotion. Novarius was not a happy man.
Last edited by Treesnifer; 08-13-15 at 10:35 AM.
Reason: grammar/typo issues