Warzone: Borhelia - a mini-campaign on the planet Boreliah in the Esenie system!
Clouds and rainbows gathered quickly in strange patterns. The sky turned red and started to weep blood. Ripley raised her face towards the red rain and saw familiar faces dance around in circles. There was her dah, who she hadn’t seen in many, many years. And there was her mentor, Falakai, who she had loved once… and there was another lost face out of time… and another… Then suddenly the faces exploded one by one and was replaced by evil-looking red faces with fangs and long tongues. The eyes shifted from erupting fire to purple rays that pierced her body. Ripley screamed but could not move. Then it started; the chanting. An ancient language, impossible to understand and soothing and disturbing at the same time said the same words over and over again: “Aaachkan Kharnee… Aaachkan Tzeeentch… Aaachkan Kharnee… Aaachkan Tzeentch…. Ripley couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, she had frozen in terror. Then she saw a familiar face, a face she had been taught to respect, fear and hate by the Inquisition. A face so utterly full of sincere hatred and anger towards everything. A face of pure death. Then the face shifted to another, equally respected, feared and hated face. Ellen Ripley finally screamed from the bottom of her soul...
Ripley woke up on the floor. Naked. She had terrible scars in her face and bloody nails. She realised that she had tore her own face in desperation, just to wake up from the horrible dream. She gathered her clothes and made for the door. The Ordo must be told of the oncoming horrors that were on the doorstep of Esenie X…
***
Mekboss Izambad Orcdom Brunel strode forward. He passed a giant pile of dung and laughed to himself. It was his personal “Crap-heap” and it was gigantic and very impressive. The smell was beyond eye-watering - even the squigs avoided it! He looked to the left and saw his life’s work advance; three Stompaz were frantically being repaired and rigged with several enhancements. It was a matter of days now, before they were ready. And when they were nothing could stop him from starting his own Waaagh!. That fool, Bronk, had failed against the damned beeks in black and got himself ripped to pieces by a powerfist. Izimbad had seen the remains of the former Warboss and it was not a pretty sight. Good riddance, he thought, Bronk had not been mentally stable and had lost his focus long ago. It was time for a change and the opportunity had come to Izimbad just at the right time. “Yes, I can!”, he said to himself and smiled an ugly smile. Suddenly a small explosion shook him and he staggered a bit. Ah, those damned grot riggers had probably triggered a new device and managed to blow something up! Hopefully themselves, he thought as he angrily moved towards the mushroom cloud.
***
-The Stompaz are in sight, Lord Melann… oh, by Russ, what is that smell!?, the voice on the vox suddenly broke.
-Carry on, Brother Thorasson. It just the damned Orks and their crap. Put on your helmet if it bothers you… but, carry on. Adopt battle formation and get forward. Radio silence from now on! I want those Stompaz to bleed!
Brother Fingal, Rune Priest of the Space Wolves frowned. It was a bad stench indeed that came with the wind from the greenskin camp. It was a mockery to the Space Wolves and their renowned sense of smells. This had to be done quickly as the Orks were gathering in huge numbers. If they were overwhelmed before they had secured the Stompaz, there would be big problems! Brother Fingal suddenly felt a strange sensation in his head. It was like tickle inside his brain. He shook his head and blamed the smell from the Orks. Suddenly the vox beeped on a secure channel. Strange, the Rune Priest thought. Who would interfere now? And on a secure channel? He flipped the switch:
-Brother Fingal, Rune Priest of the Spa…
-Brother Fingal! It’s a trap! It’s a trap! Leave Butangaz immediately! I repeat; leave Butangaz now!!
-Now, listen here! Who is this, and why…
-This is Inquisitor Ripley! I repeat; leave Butangaz now. You will not survive this! It’s a trap!
-But we are already engaging the Orks! Surely we can…
-The Orks are not the problem! You are moving into a daemonic incursion!!
Brother Fingal sighed and closed his eyes. A daemonic invasion! But where? He quickly broke the radio silence and demanded a status report from all units. Both guard units and Space Wolves reported Ork movements. All except the Traumatican 102nd, which had deployed on the far right in the outskirts on Butangaz. Colonel Peterson of the Traumatican 102nd reported nothing… there was only static…
***
The Space Wolves sped towards the ruins of Butangaz. Behind the rubble and debris, Brother Fingal could see the Stompas and the burning pyres. The Orks were close to repairing them and if that happened Esenie would have a possible Waaagh on its hands! That couldn't be! The Rune Priest made a decision, perhaps a fatal one, time would tell. Trap or not, it was too late to pull out! Colonel Petersons guardsmen were probably already in dire straits and could not retreat... and would not, Brother Fingal thought. That Peterson was a proud and stern officer. He just hoped Peterson would live to see another day.
***
-Priest Fingal! Orks are engaging to our left! Killer-Kans, Dreads and Trukks! Permission to frag them to hell!
It was the commander of the Land Raider, Brother Yggdrasil. Brother Fingal smiled and almost felt sorry for the Orks.
-Permission granted, Brother Ygg. And Ulf, support the Land Raider! Permission to blast the greenskins to hell granted!
The Rune Priest watched as Ulf, the Dreadnought, swung his metal body towards the oncoming Orks. The Plasma Cannon was already firing up. Then he turned his attention towards the ruins. There was something on the top of a derelict building that gleamed. Those stupid Orks were always bickering and fighting each other and constantly threw things around them. He quickly scanned the top of the ruins. It was a device meant for one of the Stompas! Surely! He reached into himself and then turned his psychic probing capacity towards the thing. Oh, yes. A guiding device!
-Brother Olaf! Take your Hunters and seize the top of the nearest ruin at once. The thing on the top must be destroyed! But be careful! The ruin is certainly full of hidden traps and Russ knows what. Brother Harald, assist Olaf!
The Rune Priest saw Olaf's Grey Hunters and Harald's Long Fangs dismount from their transports and run into the ruins. They had a long way to get to the top...
In the meantime, Brother Ygg and Ulf, the Dreadnought, hammered the Killer-Kans and the Deff-Dread, stopping the Ork onslaught. Ygg's Land Raider stripped the Ork contraptions of their movement and their weapons and finally the Ork flank attack wavered and broke! Just in time! There were bigger problems piling up to the front and the left...
***
Colonel Peterson stared in disbelief. It was like his mind couldn't fathom the sight before him. Daemons! From the warp! But how? From where? Why? Not far from his spearhead of a Baneblade and a Leman Russ several strange Daemons on red mounts advanced quickly. It was a terrifying sight. But nothing... nothing could compare to the things that advanced behind the first wave of Daemons. A large, red Bloodthirster with tattered wings and a bird-like Daemon that constantly shifted colors. And beside those hellish creatures there was horrible machine in the shape of a scorpion! Colonel Peterson's mind froze. His body froze. Everything went blank for a second. Then he sprung into action. He and his guardsmen would probably die. But, by the Emperor, not without a fight! He screamed orders to the Baneblade and it and the Leman Russ blasted away! The mounted Daemons were engulfed in several explosions that would have tore anything less supernatural into a thousand pieces. But the Daemons came through almost completely unharmed. Only one of the hideous beasts had vanished back to the warp. Behind the Daemons, the Bloodthirster picked up speed and ran like the wind towards the Imperial Guard. First the Baneblade and the Leman Russ were cast aside like leaves in the wind. Then the Daemons fell upon the Imperial Guard. Oh, my Emperor, we're doomed, Colonel Peterson thought only seconds from when the Bloodthirster ripped the guardsmen to pieces!
***
-We can't hold them! We're losing! Request support immediately!!
Brother Fingal listened to the desperate voice of Colonel Matz. He shook his head. What at first looked like a good idea had turned into a nightmare. The Daemons had tore the right flank to pieces and were closing in on the Space Wolves in the middle. And now the Imperial Guard in the western perimeter were falling to the Ork onslaught. A red painted Stompa wreaked havoc and huge numbers of greenskins overwhelmed Colonel Matz' position. And soon, very soon would the Daemons hit the Space Wolves in the flank. And at the same time, a gigantic Ork horde was advancing towards the Space Wolves. Always outnumbered, always outgunned, Brother Fingal thought. But not outsmarted! By Russ! There was still a chance to inflict severe damage to the Ork build-up and pull out before the Daemons sealed their fate.
-I'm sorry, Colonel Matz! We've walked into a trap! It has been an honour serving with you! In the name of the Emperor I salute you. There are no reinforcements to give. Try to pull out! I will pray for you!
There was static for a couple of seconds, then the voice of Colonel Matz was heard. Proud, stern and defiant:
-Brother Fingal, Rune-Priest of the Space Wolves! We'll do our duty! If we are to die here today, in the name of the Emperor, that is what we will do! I salute you too. We will die fighting these scum! For the Emperor!! Over and out!
The Rune Priest looked to the ruins to the left. He saw the guardsmen dig in in the ruins, fighting for their lives. Orks fell, guardsmen fell and soon the last lasgun would fire. Suddenly he saw Colonel Matz climb on top of a stair. He screamed in his vox and a few seconds later the familiar sound of incoming barrage was heard. Colonel Matz had called for an artillery strike on his own position, just to wipe out the surrounding Orks. The barrage hit home and everything close-by were killed! But... when the smoke cleared, the Orks still piled on! A group of Ogryns had taken a position and was surrounded by Orks, but they held on heroically. They fell one by one and then the last one was shot. Brother Fingal shook his head once more. Colonel Matz would, exactly as Colonel Peterson, be renowned as heroes of the Imperium. He had to make sure of that! Then he looked up with defiance in his eyes! Time to hit back and then pull out. This is not our day, he thought, but we'll win the next!
***
The Space Wolves organised a defence ring around the Rune Priest. The Long Fangs realized that they had to climb the stairs to the top as the Grey Hunter squad was busy moving towards the nearest Stompa; their intended target from the start. The Long Fangs climbed to the top, constantly attacked by hidden grots and several boobytraps. But they managed to reach the Ork device and destroy it. In return, they were wiped out by a storm of fire from the red Stompa!
The Grey Hunters of Brother Olaf pressed on towards the Stompa. Some fell, but most of the Hunters moved out of the ruin to shut down the Stompa and engage the oncoming Orks and Daemons. It would be a close call and those Stompas had to be shut down. Suddenly a Stompa started to move! It swung its weapons towards its own troops! Brother Fingal couldn't believe his eyes. On top of it a Gretchin waved a flag with a red star. The Rune Priest had to laugh! It could only happen with greenskins! A rebellion within their own ranks in the middle of a battle! It was insane! And an oppurtunity. As the red painted Stompa turned towards the rebel Stompa, Brother Fingal screamed to Brother Olaf to shut down the nearest Stompa. It was still being repaired and Brother Olaf jumped at the chance, waving his chainfist. He climbed up a few meters and tore his fist into the hull of the Stompa. It was a slim chance to damage it, but Brother Olaf must have hit something fragile, since the Stompa started to stagger and hum.
-Brother Olaf! Get away from there! I think it's gonna bl...
Brother Fingal didn't have time to finish the sentence before the Stompa exploded! The Grey Hunter squad was almost wiped out in the cataclysmic explosion! Brother Fingal wept as he rose from the ground where he been knocked over by the explosion. He had known Olaf for many years, but now Olaf would never drink with him again.
***
The red painted Stompa moved to the back of the rebel Stompa. There was laughter heard as the it struck it in the back. The rebel Stompa stopped in it's tracks as something had hit it's driving mechanism. Rune Priest Fingal was apalled and thankful at the same time over the fickle Ork brains. Somehow the Orks themselves had helped the Space Wolves to strike a serious blow to Izambad's intentions to organize a Waagh! He glanced a look towards the oncoming Daemons. They were close, but the remnants of the Space Wolves would get away. It was a terrible day, but at least the Ork Waaagh! would have to wait. But the Daemons... that was not good at all! Brother Fingal seized the vox:
-All Space Wolves mount up immediately and move out! I'm proud of you and we'll avenge our fallen brothers next time! Over and out!
He started to move towards the Land Raider, but had to stop when the large tank suddenly was lifted up in the air and then torn in half. A hideous abomination held one part of the Land Raider in it claw and another part in the other. A Brass Scorpion! Brother Mel had only heard stories about those Daemon engines and it was not bed-time stories at all. Russ, help us, he thought as he turned and fled. Far behind him he could hear the snarling of the Bloodthirster and the strange laughter from the Lord of Change...
***
Izambad limped forward. Smoke rose from his tattered clothes. He had lost a tooth and a finger. He was in a bad mood. It had been a good fight, no doubt, but the injuries had come from the damned grots. Those rebellic grots! Not the damned beeks or the humans, but from the grots! When he got his hands on them, they would learn not to interfere... and they would learn it the hard way!
-Gimme me dose sorry grotz, Washnak! Gimme dem now!!
Washnak looked around him and scarped with his foot in the dirty ground. He slowly moved backwards. Izambad grabbed him by the collar... hard!
-Where iz dem?”
-Dunno Mek Izambad! Dunno! Dey's got away in da mess... wiv a lotta scrap and fings... and boss... mek... we has bigga probs... dem fings from da warp is comin over here... and dey lookz really pissed...
Izambad dropped Washnak like he was pile of dung and stared towards the strange creatures. He had no intention to “talk” with those things. He turned towards his warband and yelled:
-Ok, ladz! Time ta pack up an' go! Now!
He moved hastily towards his trukk and gestured to his driver to step on it. He would deal with the renegade grots later... in fact, they could be of use, the cunning little buggers...
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Written by Tony Melander (2010)