A Spacewolf icon flashed onto the left upper corner of Leal's powerarmor interface. "Incoming Command-Level Transmission, Urgent Priority..." Behind it, he could see the hulking #8 and its rider turning toward him with intent to kill.
"Lord Lattore of the Relictors, the wolves are minutes away..."
The grotesque visage of the chaos marine atop the abomination focused on Captain Lattore, lowering his hand-cannon at him. Disregarding the bodies in its path, the creature-spawn he rode began a charge as well. Leal jolted into action.
As he moved, the bleak communication icon remained illuminated in the corner of Leal's screen, as if the scene playing beneath it were merely a recording. But it was not. The transmission continued to play. "We're readying our bombardment cannons. You need only direct us and we shall rain death upon the heretics and daemonspawn."
Leal dived to the side and rolled, dashing for cover behind a ruined and burning edifice which took the brunt of the blast. With the swarm of heretics and lesser enemies around them, the Relictors were spread thin, leaving few who had the proper weapons to fight these giant monstrosities able to do so. Leal was currently on his own. He looked up. With a metallic groan, the structure above him began to collapse.
"Also, Lord Tyrfingr requests that you not die before he has a chance to repay his gratitude."
Sharp lances of torn metal shot downward as the structure gave way. The top half buckled and slammed down on its side, stirring up a cloud of smoke and ash that obscured vision.
A surreal quiet followed, and Leal laid very still. He was covered in debri, with a fractured support beam having landed only inches from his head. It was hard to believe he was still alive, and he uttered a silent prayer. He heard the heavy footfalls of his enemy as it approached, searching for him. Finally, he spoke a reply to the Hand of Bjorn. "This is Captain Lattore, Chapter Master of the Relictors..." It was quite a gesture that a Spacewolf battlebarge was asking him to direct their cannons. It probably mean that Lord Tyrfingr was already dead. "Target at my location, and aim a precise strike at the chaos beast in that area. On my mark..." Any weapons fired from orbit had the potential to do massive damage, and Emperor Gregori had given specific orders not to damage the forgemoon so that it could still be of use after the battle. Leal had to hope the orbiting battlebarge had a fusion beamer or lance weapon for a precision strike on the surface. Surely they realized what he was asking. Leal waited a moment for the Spacewolf forces to get a sufficient lock-on, and mentally braced himself. The shot at the beast was going to kill him as well. The ground shook ever so slightly as the massive creature tromped around outside the wreckage. It was time....
"Leal!"
The captain's eyes flew open as he recognized the voice of his lieutenant. Garwyn was alive! "Garwyn, get back!" Leal commanded, but already the eighth beast and its master had begun to move away, going after the fresh prey. Leal struggled to free himself from the pile of stone and sheetmetal. Beams of light filtered through the smoke and toxic air around him. He could get out, he had to get out.
Moments later, Leal and his soulblade extracted themselves with a final shove to behold the scene before them. The sky had grown dark and a fierce wind had picked up. Thousands of strands of lightning shot from the clouds like a rain of light, striking enemies dead in an instant, one after another. Shards of lance-like hail followed, and Leal knew the Spacewolves had a powerful shaman among them.
With the majority of the mortal enemies now dead, the remaining Astartes forces could finally concentrate their efforts on the 5 final chaos spawn. Leal ran with all his might to join in and finish off the last of the enemy for good. In the corner of his vision, he saw Aesir with his arms raised, surrounded by warplight. Wolves and Relictors stood side-by-side as they closed in on each of the vile abominations. Black blood poured from the wounds they inflicted, limbs were severed, soul-energy was consumed. The smaller fiends began to topple.
A tattered red cloak marked the captain of the Relictors as he withdrew his burning blade from deep within chaos-spawn flesh, and he turned to behold a stern-faced, fanged spacewolf, with a black pelt across his shoulders, blonde, braided hair, and an Imperialis on his chest, performing a similar action. Leal nodded at him, but words would have to wait, for one final abomination remained.
Finally locating Garwyn some distance away, Leal was astonished to see him not only standing face to face against the last and greatest foe, but wielding a blue, feathery daemonblade as well. For a Relictor, Garwyn had always been the voice of reason, oddly shying away from the employment of obviously tainted weapons unless absolutely necessary. He'd said it would interfere with his objectivity as a commander, a sentiment undoubtedly inspired by Leal in light of the mistakes of Arekus Bardane. He was a goddamned noble soul.
But there he was, daemonweapon in hand, in complete control of it, putting all doubts of his ability to shame. The spiked tentacles lashed at him, only to be repelled by some kind of blue forcefield, as were the gunblasts of the chaosmarine rider. Finally, just as Leal and the entire battlefield were watching, the beast drew back its immense arm and struck at the noble warrior. Fierce blood-red claws pressed against the sorcerous forecefield until its breaking point. The energy exploded outward as the shield shattered and Garwyn was taken in its grip with a defiant roar. "For the Emperor!!"
The monster's master laughed as the creature brutally slammed Garwyn's body over its head and into the ground. All eyes beheld in horror as it did this over and over. Garwyn was surely dead, a bloody pulp inside his crushed armor, a sacrifice for the cause.
Leal stopped dead in his tracks, as if the loss of his best friend and most trusted advisor had been the weight that had broken him. As if delighting in the emotional pain it caused to defile Garwyn's corpse, the malicious fiend continued beating his dead body like a toy.
Leal linked up to the Spacewolf battlebarge overhead. "This is Captain Lattore. ... Mark."
The distracted chaoslord and his monster never saw it coming, and within seconds, they were enveloped in a column of bright white fire, incinerated, along with everything around them. The enemy was finally broken.
