Rise to Glory - III: There is only the Emperor

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Although returning to Rynn's World safely from the deadly trap on Unbound, the most perilous battle of Captain Stefanos Van Alessian has only just begun. Striking from the shadows of the Immaterium, the forces of Chaos have laid siege to the home of the Crimson Fists, and once more the noble Chapter teeters on the brink of extinction. With no help on the way, and being outnumbered and outgunned a million to one, the Crimson Fists will be thrust into the most brutal war of their age, and only the Emperor may know of it's outcome.

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PART I: Brothers
The Thunderhawk shook from the another hit to it's starboard side, as the pilot dodged deadly warp bolts and demonic fire as it maneuvered through the deadly maze of warp fire and demon engines spewing death at every turn. This area had once been a beautiful and prosperous area on Rynn's World, filled with lush green plains and tall forests. Now, it was but a shadow of it's former self, raped of it's beauty by the Ork invasion a decade ago and now burned to a crisp by the forces of Chaos. The entire area was seeping with demonic power from cracks forming on the ground, as this place was being transformed from Rynn's World to...something else.

Inside the Thunderhawk, the dozen Crimson Fists held tightly onto their harnesses, waiting for the moment when the assault ramp would detach and let them loose upon the enemy. They all bared the honorary Crux Terminatus, Terminator Honors, on their finely crafted and decorated Power Armor, glimmering with gold and polished blue, even in the darkness of the Thunderhawk's troop compartment. They all knew what their duty was, what they had to do, and the chances of them returning alive to see the glories of their Chapter restored. If the Crimson Fists had a future, as they all believed that they would, then they may very well never live to see it. But these Astartes were no ordinary warriors, they were Veterans of the Crusade Company, the best soldiers in the entire Chapter, and the bravest in the entire Imperium as far as their fellow brothers were concerned. They were the best, the elite, and the most well suited for this task. If anyone could do what was to be done soon enough, then they could.

And at their front, standing unharnessed before his fellow Crimson Fists, was Pedro Kantor, Lord Hellblade and 36th Chapter Master of the Crimson Fists. The finest of all in the Chapter. And before him was Vigilax Squad, some of the best men he had available in the entirety of the Chapter. They had served with Kantor side by side for decades from one battlefield to another and all the way back to the First Battle of Rynn's World. And now the Second as well. His suit of Artificer Armor was scarred and burned from several places, the golden aquila having been almost completely scratched off, and his armor filled with dents from Bolter shells and blade strikes. On his gauntlet, Dorn's Arrow, having taken more lives today then anyone could possibly count, fed another round into the twin barreled weapon, and prepared to slay the traitors beyond the confines of this gunship. Kantor looked up at the ammo counter on the right corner of his HUD, which indicated 354 bolts remaining in the ammo feed. He then looked down at his Power Fist, still caked with the blood of the hundreds of traitors he had single-handed killed over the last weeks. Weeks which had worn down the ranks of his Chapter more than he would have cared to see.

The Thunderhawk took another hit from a bolt of warp energy, shaking the entire troop compartment and knocking over weapons mounted on racks and spilling magazines of fresh ammo from supply crates. The lights of the ship flickered and the circuits broke apart in a few parts, sparkling electricity. Kantor managed to keep his footing, keeping a cold head and calm mind, not falling victim to panic or stress. He eyed the fistful of grenades that rolled out of their holding crate onto the floor, making sure that they had not accidentally activated and risked damaging the ship from the inside. He had no desire to die at the hands of his own weapons.

"Pilot, report." Kantor ordered.

"Starboard engine is dead is my Lord, we are losing altitude, i can't do anything about it sir. I can still try and safely land us as close to the objective as i can." The pilot reported as he struggled to keep the ship under control.

"Negative. Land as close enough for you to get back to the city and reinforce Captain Van Alessian. Emperor only knows how much he could use the air support." Kantor ordered.

"Yes my Lord. Thunderhawk 'Mantle of Pollux' preparing to return to departure point."

Kantor could feel the experienced eyes of Veteran Sergeant Hadrian eyeing him with some level of concern. "My Lord, it will be considerably more difficult for us to reach the target if we don't have the Thunderhawk at our back..."

"Don't lecture me sergeant! I have sent enough of my brothers to their deaths in this battle and i am not sending any more then i have to. We can handle any resistance we come across, we have come this far have we not?" Kantor retorted.

Hadrian raised an eyebrow, perhaps still questioning the decision Kantor was making. But Hadrian and his men were loyal, and would follow him to the depths of the Warp if he gave the word. They would follow him here as well. "Of course sir."

"Good. Check your wargear, we will be landing soon."

The members of Vigilax Squad cocked their Bolters, loading deadly Vengeance Rounds into the large drum magazines, that would easily penetrate any armoring the enemy had at their disposal. To the left of Vigilax Squad, the familiar face of Sergeant Huron Grimm was covered by his Mk.VII helmet, as the veteran Astartes went through his equipment quickly to ensure he had everything battle ready. Grimm had lost his entire squad defending Jadeberry Hill only a week back, and had insisted on accompanying Kantor to this mission. Kantor admired the Sergeant's loyalty, and thought that he could use every man available to take down his target. Captain Cazaquez himself had recommended to Kantor that he took Grimm with him. The Chapter Master and the Sergeant exchanged a quick half-bow, honoring each other for their services to the Chapter, and then going back to the battle at hand.

"My Lord!" The pilot yelled through the inter-com. "My Lord, get down!"

Before Kantor could react, the right wall of the Thunderhawk was torn open by a vicious blast, opening a wide gap into the ship and filling the compartment with the heat of Warp fire. Kantor was knocked over by the blast, and his armored frame fell over to his back with a great clang of metal against metal. The alert light inside flashed red, and the alarm klaxon went off, alerting the ship's crew of severe damage. Kantor quickly got to his feet and locked his gaze onto the gap, since they were practically inside the Warp, anything could come through there now. Anything.

The blast had also blown open the harnesses of the two nearest Space Marines, Hadrian and another battle brother, and both were now reaching for their weapons and eyeing the breach with great care. The rest of the Astartes prepared to unstrap themselves from their harnesses, but Kantor ordered them to hold their hands, he wanted as many to reach the LZ alive as possible.

"Pilot, any serious damage?" Kantor called through the vox.

No response.

"Pilot, come in!" Kantor ordered with more force.

Still no response. Kantor cursed his luck, and turned around to face Grimm, who was as ready as ever to unstrap himself from his seat and get into action. "Grimm, go check on the pilot."

"Yes my Lord." The Sergeant acknowledged and after mere seconds was out of his harness and on his way to the ship's controls.

"Lord Kantor! Incoming hostiles!" Hadrian yelled.

Only a few moments later, winged beast barged through the breach, screeching and howling in an utterly demonic fashion as it fell upon Kantor with it's adamantium-sharp claws held out for the kill. Dorn's Arrown barked, and beast fell to the floor of the Thunderhawk with a wet thud. Kantor looked outside, and saw more of the winged beasts closing in, and fast.

Hadrian and the Astartes beside him opened fire, Vengeance Bolts knocking out the demon beasts from the skies. One by one, the monsters fell like flies, but still they came on, claws ready to shred human flesh. Dorn's Arrow joined in, and in a rhythmic symphony knocked out more demons from the skies. A few managed to get close to the breach, but those few were quickly dispatched by Bolter shots.

Another explosion shook the Thunderhawk, and this time the results were far more worse. The entire ship dipped downwards, and began to fall down in a deadly crash trajectory. Hadrian and the other Astartes struggled to gain their footing, but the situation was too much for even the Veterans of the Crusade Company to handle, and the consequences were disastrous for the Astartes beside Hadrian. As the Thunderhawk shook left and right, the Veteran was thrown out of the breach, and into the fiery ground outside, dooming the Crimson Fist to certain death. Hadrian called out for the brother's name, but knew it was too late.

"Grimm! The pilot, is he alright?" Kantor barked into the vox as the Thunderhawk continued to fall downwards.

"Yes my Lord, he's still alive, but wounded. He says there's nothing we can do about the crash sir, were going down."

Kantor looked outside. The ground was already starting to get into plain line of sight, and he could see pillars of flame and twisted rock formations swirling with more of the winged demons and Chaos Hell Talon fighters. Kantor grabbed onto Hadrian, and pulled him beside him, while grabbing onto a piece of a harness with his free hand to balance himself.

"Brothers! Brace for impact!"

Two months earlier