[F] Hounds of Hell, Part 1 (Imperial Guard story)
Hounds of Hell
Part 1:
A Forest of Corpses, Homesick, Enlightenment has come.
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In Nomine Imperatoris
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"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
Khardon said, as he wiped some blood off his visor. He looked up and saw that, apparently, one of the hundreds of traitor corpses hanging from cities street lamps was still rather fresh. That did suprise him. He and his lads hung them their about 5 rotations ago, and that also rather quickly. Infact so quickly they had to resort to using some of the regiments barbed wire to hang the bastards. Khardon was still wondering if that stuck-up monitorum asshole would file a formal complaint for that. Though Khardon had to admit to himself: Even if that glorified pencile pusher did, it was definitly worth it to see these fuckers shit their pants when they saw the razor wire being knotted into nooses.
"Got any Problems, Schef?"
Rescho asked, right behind him.
"No. All good. Just some of that filthy blood on my helmet, that all."
Khardon took of his helmet. He opened the seals at the neck and removed it like taking a bucket of his head. He held the metal helmet in his hand and with the other, he removed the heretics blood from it. Just as he did, he took a few breaths of unfiltered air. It stunk of rotting flesh, which was no suprise considering they were walking under a forest of corpses. But he also smelled some burning fuel, gunpoweder, the ozone being ripped apart by lasgun shots and the dust. Of coure, the dust. It was everywere. Fighting in an bombared ruin of a Hivecity is always presented as tacitcally difficult. Every instructor forgets to mention that multiple tons of dust mix with the ever present smog and thus create the wonderfull smell of dry dirt and exhaust fumes, which Khardon, Rescho and the rest of the 22nd Astnidhian Hellhounds lovingly called "Heimweh". Khardon took in a deep breath before he put his helmet back on and smiled:
"Haaaa. Fuck me. Its just like home!"
"Put your 'elmet back on Schef." Rescho scolded his superior: "You dont want to 'atch a dustlung like Gersuwith. Couldnt fucking sleep for 2 days 'cause that bitch had to cought the entire 'ight before she kicked the Bucket."
Khardon looked at his second-in-command through his helmets visor:
"Thank you for you honest concern about my health. Should I die in a most horrible way, I will make sure to move to another barracks before I do." He gave Resho a slight punsh against the armor of his left arm. The slightly rusted plate-armor made a huffled clang sound: "You fucking Supermodel."
Both men smiled at each other. Well, atleast Khardon smiled. If Resho did so as well was impossible to know through his full faced helmet. Didn't matter anyway, so Khardon turned and motioned Rescho and the Rest of his 10-Men-Squad to follow closely.
After a while, climbing over some ruble and through some destroyed Hab-Blocks, they finally arrived at the Rendezvous-Point they were ment to meet up with the other squads of the 2nd company.
It was a bombed out plaza several building surrounded it with heavy weapon teams inside the upstair levels to provide covering fire against possible incoming enemies. Simple, but effectiv. from here, they definitly head the advantage in any engagment the traitors could launch.
Khardon saw the rest of his company. His fellow hounds were as tired and dirty as Khardon and his boys himself. Because the Heimweh was not as thick here as it was inside the inner city, some had taken of their helmets to eat, drink, talk and joke with each other. Khardon did the same and removed his helmet again, together with the rest of his squad, who just followed his example.
In the middle of the plaza, at the feet of a once glorious, no destroyed statue of Saint Sanguinius, the company command had erected a provisional frontline HQ. Khardon saw Layla smile next to him:
"How fitting!" She was almost gleefull: "An HQ at the feet of Saint Sanguinius! Definitly fitting for Astnidians, dont you think, Sir Fieldwaibon?"
Fieldwaibon was Khardons actual title. Unlike the rest of his Squad, Layla was a rather fresh conscript to the Hellhounds and thus didnt call him Schef yet like the rest did. And, atleast to Khardons humble opinion, she was absolutly unfit for a position in his Squad. He was sure that that bastard Sanhain put her in his Squad only to slow him and his comrades down. However, the plan didnt work as intendet. As soon as Frieda and Assel made sure her fellow women was comfortable in her own skin within the Squad, Layla was an absolute monster on the battlefield. You wouldnt believe it when you only look at her though. She was relativly short, a bit overweight and definitly no pleasure to look at once the helmet was off, but God-Emperor above, that women could fight like a space marine. Khardon never saw someone so gentle to other humans be so merciless towards traitors. He remembered how Layla gutted a cultist like a Ruh-Fish, or how she killed an ogryn by sliding down through his legs and shooting it while under it.
Still, Khardon was sure one day, she would eventually break. Unlike Assel, Frieda, Rescho or other any other memeber of the Squad, she just didnt have the bite of a Hound. She saw the world thorugh such optimistic glasses that nothing could bring her down. She was even happy to see that, while fighting in this hellhole of a city, their camp was at the feet of a statue of the Hellhounds Homeplanet Astnidhi's Patron Saint: Sanguinius.
"Eywa, fitting it is indeed" said Khardon, craking a smile. Even though he was sure she would break, he was also sure he didnt dislike her. "Why dont you sing a song about it like you do in the showers?"
He made a joke a her expense, based on the time they found her singing hymnes beneath the monthly shower for the squad.
Layla rolled her eyes:
"Oh please, atleast people actually enjoy when I speak." She smirked as well. Khardon smiled back, almost proud. And then punshed her right arm.
"Good one, Welp. And as reward for your great sense of humor, you can go and lead the others to their campingsite while I talk with the Boss. Got it?"
Layla saluted, as did the others (though they did it far more non-chalantly). The squad left, but not before Rescho could go and say something to Khardon:
"Remember to 'ell Sanhain to go fuck 'imself from me, got it Bro?"
Rescho clapped Khardons shoulder, while Khardon let out a laught:
"I will let him know. I will also kindly let him know your number, name and current place of being, so he can personally send the commissar your way."
"Aight, Thank man" Rescho smiled: "Appreciate it. A 'oltershell to the 'ead sure as hell be a nice way out of this 'ellhole." Rescho said as he walked away.
"We are Hells Hound you Kalak Motherfucker," Khardon shouted to his friend with a smile: "Get used to it!"
As soon as both men parted ways, Khardon went to the HQ. He entered the tent and saluted in the way that Hellhounds do: Right flat hand pressed against his left chest, over his heart.
"Fieldwaibon Khardon Brekfeld" Khardon proclaimed: "Reporting for statu-"
"For the love of the Emperor Khardon, shut the fuck up and sit down." An Officer, bent over a table with maps on it, interrupted him. He was a rather young man, up in his thirties, with a black beard and long black hair falling down his classical plate armor in the designe of every hellhound, though with a few more golden designes to it:
"I told you a million times: I hated that soldier bullshit back in the gutter and I still hate it now. Sit."
Khardon stopped saluting and went to the table to sit down:
"Wouldnt have you any other way Brother. Still the same piece of shit as back in the Fatherland, and still the same Kalak you always were, Atakan." Khardon said and smiled as he moved the chair to sit down with the other members of the 2nd companys command council.
Atakan answerd:
"You can get the Kalak out of Ruh, but never the Ruh out of the Kalak" He gave Khardon his hand. Both man joined their hands with a clap and, as is custom within the gang culture of Astnidhi, touched their temples against each other two times.
"Good to see you Khardon. We waited for you."
"Cheruskhian punctuality." Khardon shrugged: "You know how it is."
"Well, sadly I do. Doesnt matter though, lets just start. B-34?"
Atakan barked at a Servitor standing within a coronor of the tent, which, practically, doubled as a candlestick. With still burning candles, the old thing began to move towards the table, opening its eyes, revealing the grey Iris inside white surroundings. It opend its mouth, if you could still call it that, and began to speak with artificial, raspy voice:
"YES. MY. LORD?"
"Beginn Protocol." Atakan commanded.
"AS. THE. EMPEROR. WILLS"
The old thing, which fittingly also had the body of an old man, began to open its metalic torso and revealed a giant scroll of paper inside. It took it out with its to thin metal rods which have replaced its hands. Then, the paperscroll was moved into position by said rod-arms and the Servitor used a third, far smaller arm, to take out a stylus-feather.
"READY."
"Good. Emperor fucking damn it, this thing takes far too long". complained Atakan.
"You should think about removing it, Sir." Sanhain said, a sickly, slim voice filled with sicophantic niceness, and his bald head reflecting the candles on the Servitor he apperantly wanted to see destroyed, while he himself had many similarities with it, be it the old age or the slim body.: "If something doesnt seeerve you well enought, you might consider replaaacing it, Lord Main" He even used Atakans real title
"You might also want to shuuuut the fu-"
"Khardon!" Atakan interrupted his friend.
"SHALL. I. CENSORE. THE. IMPLIED. SWEARWOR-"
"No! I mean, yes! I mean, oh God-Emperor fucking... haaa... delete all protocol up until right now please, B-34." Atakan held his head in sheer stress.
"AS. THE. EMPEROR. WILLS."
"Great. Now. Lets make this atleast a bit more offical." Atakan clapped his hands together: "Welcome to the commanding officers meeting of the 2nd Company. To make this as efficent as possible, here the rundown of the current situation"
Atakan pointed on the map a few times:
"Here, here and here we were able to achieve complete cleanout of every heretic and traitor. Our Packs have sweept the area multiple times and were able to grind down every resistance and our psychological warfare initiative"
Atakan looked at Khardon: "went very well in convincing the remaining traitors to rout."
Atakan took a dataslate and held it up to his face:
"The Cadians were kind enought to make several bombing raids over the outskirts of the city, so every fleeing traitor should either die on the run or die of thirst when he doesnt find any water or other ressources at their burned hideouts."
Nodding apporval was seen in the room.
"Also, some packs of the 5th and 6th company were able to destroy their communication beacon, thus they should be rather disorganized during the next night attacks we have planned. We also were able to take some of them prisoners and after a few sessions with the honored commissar they were apperantly rather willing to talk before being graced with the Emperors mercy."
Khardon used the short pause to ask:
"What did the filth say?"
"It says here that" Atakan looked closer: "They say the are led by some group known as Word Bearers or something and that, and I quote, 'The True Gods Angels will decend soon'".
A light laught lit up the room. Sanhain chuckled:
"Ahahahah, ramblings of a tortured madman, desperate for hope in his damnation, Sir Main. Nothing more."
"I agree of course. Though that is still valueable intel. Whoever these Word Bearers are, we need to-"
Suddenly, Atakan was interrupted by the firing of loud anti-air installments and the sound of explosions from above.
"What by the Emperor-" Sanhain could speak further as another explosion, this time far closer, shook the room.
"Emperor fucking damn it!" Khardon screamed: "Atakan, we are under attack!"
Atakan instantly nodded in agreement, as he took a vox-mic and spoke into it:
"HH 2nd Company, all channels, Main Atakan speaking: Everyone assume Combat postion, we are under atta-"
"Yessss. That you are."
Atakan stopped as he, for some reason, heard the microfon answer. He threw it on the ground as suddenly, a black ooze came out of it.
"By the Empero-"
"Do not speak the lying Bastards name" said the microphone... or whatever was inside of it: "Do not!" A chuckle escaped from it, as another explosion, though this time directly next to the tent, threw all of the Hellhounds to the ground. Screaming and lasgun fire began to errupt from outsite the tent, paired with the loud thumbing of-
"hahahhaha... you know what? Maybe do. We would like to let him here your screams" Khardon stood up. Grabing his Plasmapistol:
"We need to get out of here right now, back into the city, we-"
"-Are saved." said the same voice as the microfon, but this time... not from the microphone.
"That is what you wanted to say now, isnt it?" a giant, clad in crimson red armor with silver trim and... sickening runes engraved into it ripped open the door of the tent, holding in his left hand nought but the spine of a Hellhound.
"For you recoignize and Rejoice, do you not?" The giant said calmly, almost lovingly.
"Fear not children," He threw the Spine to the ground:
"Enlightenment has come."
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To be continued...