Last Stand

Clark aimed and shot his lasgun. In the darkness he could hear how he had hit his target and a body fell to the ground. Clark didn’t want to lose time and kept running. He ran across the construction site and jumped behind a loader. He sat on the ground and reloaded his weapon. All around him shots were fired. The rebels were pushing forwards, driving Clark and his comrades into a corner. Clark leaned over and glanced at the advancing enemies. The rebels weren’t as good equipped as the soldiers of the Copperheads, but they outnumbered them 5 to one. Clark readied his lasgun and aimed it at the enemy.

It wasn’t the first attack. The war had been going on for several weeks already. The Hive World of Cashan was a thriving city, until the rebels appeared. It had all begun at a parade, which had been organised for some of the most noble citizens. A lot of people came to watch the festival and the chants were almost deafening. But the sounds of joy soon turned into screams of fear. Several bombs had been planted and now exploded, killing hundreds of people. Then came the rebels.
They came from everywhere. They shot blindly and created chaos amongst the citizens. Many people were killed and the rebels had quickly taken over large parts of the Hive World.

The Moria Copperheads that were stationed on Cashan weren’t enough to stop the uprising of the rebels and were slowly being pushed back. And so their goal was to keep the rebels at bay, until reinforcements came. The civilians had all gathered at the center of Cashan, which was now being surrounded and attacked by the rebels.

Most of the Moria Copperheads had been stationed at the frontlines and were now fighting for not just their, but for thousands of peoples lives.

The rebels had surprised Clarks patrol. The construction site they were patrolling seemed empty, but they decided to control it anyway. As soon as they had set foot there, the rebels attacked. They used the heavy machinery itself as a weapon.

Now the Copperheads were surrounded. Clark fired his lasgun and another rebel fell to the ground. The Copperhead glanced over the loader, he was hiding behind and saw how the several rebels had mounted a bulldozer and were now coming towards Clark. The soldier grabbed a grenade and waited. He glanced again and as soon as the bulldozer was close enough Clark got ready and jumped out of his cover. He activated the grenade and rolled it under the bulldozer. Then he got up and showed the finger at the rebels, smiling under his mask. A second after that the bulldozer exploded in a huge flame, taking a dozen rebels down with it.

But the rebels weren’t slowed down. They kept firing and advancing. Clark had his lasgun at the ready and shot down two more rebels. Then a shot came out of the flames and missed Clark by an inch. Clark backed off, but he and his men had nowhere to go. They were pinned against a wall and trapped.

“Fire!”, Clark yelled and shot down another rebel, but it didn’t matter. The soldier next to Clark was shot down, his blood spilled on Clarks armour. Another Copperhead was shot and another. Clark desperately threw another grenade, killing several rebels. A shot went flying at Clarks head, but he ducked under it. Another Copperhead was killed, which only left three soldiers remaining. The rebels stopped firing, as they left the last kills to their leader. The man aimed his weapon, but he never got to fire it.

A gas-grenade exploded amidst the rebels. A green gas filled the air, which prevented the rebels of seeing their targets. But the Copperheads had special goggles, which allowed them to see the body heat of the rebels. Clark knew what this meant...reinforcements. The soldier aimed his gun and killed another rebel, his comrades quickly following him. Clark could seethe newly arrived Copperheads. The rebels were picked off, one by one. After only a few minutes all rebels were killed. The gas slowly disappeared and the Copperheads could turn off their goggles and take off their helmets. Clark greeted the new arrivals and breathed the air surrounding him. The air was smelly and was smoky. Clark preferred his mask, but it was tradition to greet other patrols, with one's helmet off.

“That was close!”, Clark said to the other Sergeant. He knew the man, but not very well.

“Aye, you got lucky!”, the man said. His name was Matt and he had the same rank as Clark. “We need to go back to base and report this!”, he added and turned around, putting his helmet back on, as the Copperheads went back to base.

Major Frank Markus, also known as Mamba, looked at a hologram of Cashan. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the night sky. Normally officers like him have their own little houses or tents from which they make their strategic plans, but Mamba loved the open sky. And so he had stationed his table and chair on the roof of a small building. Mamba was the leading officer and it was his task to make all the strategic decisions, but if he could he would have left this to someone else and go fight on the battlefield.

He looked back at the hologram. Around 60% of the planet was signaled blue, which meant it was under the Imperiums control, but the rest was red...the rebels' territory. And the planet slowly became more and more red. Mamba had called reinforcements six times already, but Cashan was so distant from any other inhabitable planet, that it would take ages to send new troops. Still, he had hope. The Copperheads were fighting for every inch and would make the rebels pay in blood.

The door leading to the roof opened behind him. Mamba looked up from the hologram, looking at the new arrivals. Two Sergeants of the Copperheads. Mamba knew them both, Clark and Matt. He had recently sent one of them out on a patrol and when they didn’t return he sent the other after him.

Now both of the men were standing in front of him. Mamba turned off the hologram and stood up. The two soldiers saluted and Mamba nodded.

“Seregant Clark, why don’t you tell me what took you so long?”, he said, looking at the man.

“We were ambushed, Sir! We were about to finish our round in Zone KP29 when they attacked!”, the man answered. He had taken his helmet off and was holding it in his left hand, his lasgun was strapped around his right shoulder.

Mamba nodded. “And you were outnumbered, but managed to hold back the rebels until reinforcement came in?”, he assumed.

“Yes, Sir!”-”How many of your men survived?” he asked.

“Two men, Sir! Troopers Jessy and Sharpie!”, was the answer. That was a big loss for the Sergeant. Mamba turned to the other man and asked him,:”Any casualties?”

The soldier shook the head. “No, Sir! We surprised them from behind. They had no time to react!”, he said and the Major thought, that the Sergeant seemed to be proud of himself.

“Very good!”, Mamba said, “You will both return to your camps and await your new orders!”, he said. Both men nodded and turned around. Mamba sat back down and turned the hologram back on. The planet had become redder.

Clark walked back into his shelter. Jessy and Sharpie were sitting around a little fire and were playing a card game. Three tents were stationed around the fire, one for each trooper. A helmet laid on the ground, the name of each fallen trooper of their squad carved into it. Clark sat down and stared at the fire, his mind slowly drifting off.

Matt loaded his lasgun and started walking down the stairs. Immediately after he had left Mamba's base, a new mission was appointed to his squad. Apparently the rebels were attacking the Imperiums territory, deep down the lowest parts of the Hive World. If during the day no sun could go so deep, at night it was pitch black.
Every trooper of the ‘Bruisers’ had to turn on the flashlights on his helmet. Their guns at the ready, they slowly walked down the stairs. Total silence. Only the steps of the trooper on the metal stairs were to be heard.

Suddenly an almost deafening sound filled the air. A shot, fired from below, missed the Sergeants head by a few inches. Almost through instinct, Matt immediately laid himself flat on the stair, his troopers quickly following his lead. A few more shots were fired by the attackers, but none of them were dangerous. Matt could see light coming from below him. With a quick sign from their Sergeant, the troopers all turned off their flashlights.

“Macron...”, Matt said to the sniper off his squad. It was too dark to see if the sniper had heard him, but immediately after he heard somebody standing up. The city was completely dark, except for the light, which the rebels used to navigate the underhive.

“Ready…”, Matt slowly said to his troopers, who all readied their lasguns and aimed them at the light. They all waited for the sniper to make the first shot.

Macron’s weapon was almost silent as he shot it. Matt could hear the bullet hitting it’s mark and a dead body falling on the ground.

After that, the remaining soldiers shot their lasguns, lighting up the darkness. Screams could be heard and when the troopers stopped firing, there was no sound of rebels running away.

Matt turned his flashlight back on and started running down the stairs, his soldiers following him. The light of their helmets shined on several dead rebels.

Matt nodded affirmatively. “Good jo…”. He was cut off, as a bullet flew over his head. The Copperheads threw themselves on the ground, others hid behind the wall, as they were almost blasted into pieces by the storm of bullets.

“On my mark…”, Matt said to the other Copperheads, via vox. In a short interval, while the rebels were reloading, Matt jumped forwards.

“Now!”, he yelled, as he ran towards the rebels. Two other soldiers followed him, their knives at the ready, while the others stayed behind, firing at the enemy. As soon as Matt reached the rebels, his men stopped shooting and followed him. The Sergeant and the two troopers lunged themselves at the rebels and cut them down, one by one. Blood splashed onto Matt’s goggles, but he kept attacking the rebels.

One of the rebels attacked Matt from behind, but before he could react, the rebel was shot down by a well placed shot to the head by Macron.

Matt nodded and put his knife back. Then he grabbed his gun and kept walking. The stairs descended deeper into darkness, as the troopers went deeper and deeper. Suddenly a big light filled the darkness. At first it was only a weak glimmer, but as the Copperheads went deeper, the light became stronger and stronger.

The stairs ended, creating a kind of balcony, which was only reachable from the top. A perfect nest for a sniper. Matt leaned over the edge to see where the light came from. Hundreds of lamps and flashlights lit up the darkness. About a hundred meters downwards was a huge plattform, where hundreds of containers were stationed. The rebels were transporting them somewhere.

“Probably weapons or explosives!”, Matt assumed, turning to his troopers, “We’ll go back to base and report this! Macron, you’ll stay here and inform us about any strange events!”, he said to the sniper. The man nodded and sat down on the balcony. The other troopers turned around and walked back to camp.

Mamba had fallen asleep in his chair and was suddenly woken up by a hooded man. The man slowly walked up to Mamba, his face hidden by a black coat.
“Arman,” Mamba said, “you bring news?” The man nodded. “Yes Sir, reinforcements are on their way! I don’t know how long it will take for them to get here or who they are, but they’re coming!”, the psyker said.

Mamba was relieved and walked to the psyker. “Very good, thank you Arman!” The psyker merely nodded and turned away, walking back to where he came from.

*What a strange man!,* Mamba thought. But he was happy that at least some reinforcements were coming.

He wanted to walk back to his seat, when the door behind opened once more. Sergeant Matt came walking towards him, his armour full of blood. Mamba wasn’t afraid or disgusted by blood, as he had seen and spilled it many times.

The trooper saluted the major. Mamba waited for an explanation. He had sent the ‘Bruisers’ deep into the underhive, to check if everything was okay. He had hoped that nothing would occur, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Report, sergeant!”-”Yes Sir! We were ambushed at CS56 and CS58. Both attacks were repelled, no imperial casualties and no heretic survivors.”, the man reported.

“Is that all?”, Mamba asked, as he could see that the Sergeant was relaxed at all.

“No Sir! We found a convoy of containers 96 meters under CS69. The rebels seem to be transporting them somewhere. Probably weapons and explosives!”

Mamba nodded,:”Alright, we’ll send four patrols down there, to exterminate the rebels!”, he said, as he turned around and walked to his desk,”I want the Bruisers, the Slashers, the Hunters and the Daggers down there!”

The sergeant nodded and walked away. Mamba sat back down into his chair. Once again, as he turned the hologram of Cashan back on, the planet had become a bit redder.

Clark stood on a small balcony, from which he could see about a mile far. He had his binocular with him, so he could watch the four patrols go into the underhive. He would have loved to go down with them, but the major appointed him and his two men to wait for emergencies. In the middle of a war lost men could not be replaced and so Clark was stuck with only two men.
Clark took off his backpack and searched for something in it. He pulled out a piece of paper, on which was a picture of his family. He hadn’t seen his kids in two years and was hoping to see them again.

*These stupid rebels!,* he thought, putting the picture back into the backpack. He turned around, glancing one more time at the spot where the four patrols had gone into the Underhive.

Matt walked down the same set of stairs he had walked down in the morning, the ‘Bruisers’ following him. The four patrols had split up half an hour before, so they could surround the rebels.
When he reached the balcony, Macron was still sitting there. The convoy was still lit up by the lamps, but the platform was empty.

“Hello Sir!”, Macron said. Matt nodded in response and gave the sign to his men to turn off their flashlights. Matt could see how the other patrols did the same thing.

*Maybe there are guards around!,* Matt thought. The Copperheads pulled out their gear and lit up tiny flashlights. They worked in total silence and darkness, only with weak glimmers of light to see their equipment.

They had built a descendent, with which they could rappel down to the convoy. All of the Bruisers rappelled down, except for Macron, who remained on the balcony. Everything happened without words.

It was too dark for Matt to see if the other patrols had been as fast as they were, but it didn’t matter.

Matt reached the floor and readied his lasgun. His men, now with their flashlight back on, followed him. Matt could see the flashlights of the other patrols. They didn’t speak a word and immediately started checking the containers.

When Matt opened his, the container was full of explosives. The second one as well and the third one too. It soon became clear all containers were full of explosives.

*Shit!,* Matt thought, as he walked towards the center of the plattform. But before he could reach the, he saw something falling from above them. It seemed heavy and was falling fast. It hit the ground with a loud *Umpf!* Matt and several others ran to investigate. Before Matt even reached it, he could see it was a body.

He immediately recognised Macron. A dagger had been rammed into his head and he was thrown off the balcony.

*Damm it!* Matt quickly turned around and walked to the center and when he reached it a man was standing there. Matt aimed his gun, the other present soldiers followed his lead.

The man standing in front of them was a rebel and he was holding a detonator in his hand.

“Put the detonator on the ground, now!”, Matt yelled, but the man just laughed in an insane way.

“Put it down now!”, he yelled again. But the rebel didn’t follow his orders.

Before Matt could shoot the man down, the rebel activated the detonator. The entire plattform exploded in a huge fiery spectacle.

Mamba was looking at the hologram and was thinking about what to do next. How long was he willing to wait for reinforcements?
But, yet again, he was interrupted by somebody walking through the door. He was expecting his psyker, but when he looked at who came to him, he was shocked.

A Copperhead, barely standing, was in front of him, his armour covered in blood. He had many wounds all over his body and he was missing one hand. The soldier clearly was in a world of pain.

Mamba ran up to him and helped him to stand. “Soldier, what happened?”

“We were surprised… they were too many… slaughtered us…”, the trooper said, as he faded into unconsciousness.

Mamba called a medic, who took the trooper to the hospital, but not before Mamba checked where the soldier came from. He came from the main force of the Copperheads army on Cashan. This meant, if what the man said was true, most of the Copperheads on the Hive World had been killed.

“Fuck!”, Mamba yelled at the sky. Then he walked to his vox and activated it.

“Mamba to patrol C99 ‘Bruisers’!” No answer.

“Mamba to patrol C67 ‘Slashers’!” Still no answer.

“Mamba to patrol C98 ‘Hunters’!” Silence.

“Mamba to patrol C35 ‘Daggers’!” Again, nothing.

The major yelled again, in anger and kicked a nearby can. He sat down in his chair, not sure what to do.

But then something came from the vox. “Sir, the base is being attacked! We’re surrounded and they’re too many! We’re being overwhelmed!”, a trooper yelled through the vox. Then nothing.

*Damn it!* How could everything go downwards so fast. Mamba grabbed the vax machine and activated it once more.

“To all remaining Copperheads! Were making our god damn last stand! Everyone is to go to GP99! If those damned heretics want those civilians, they’ll have to go through us!”

Then he threw the machine aside and put on his wargear, as he walked through the door.

When Clark reached his camp, both Jessy and Sharpie had their uniforms on and were holding their lasguns.
“What-?”, Clark asked. “Sir, all Copperheads were called to GP99. We’re making our last stand!”, Jessy answered. Clark nodded,:”Alright you go ahead, I’ll get ready!”

Both of the troopers left the camp. Clark sat down on his chair and looked one last time at the pictures of his family, before packing his stuff and getting ready.

Mamba stood on top of a roof, from which he could see onto GP99. It was the biggest street of Cashan. The street had already been attacked, so now there were burning vehicles and other things all over the street.
104 Copperheads were standing on the street, ready to pay every inch in blood. The civilians were all in the building, on top which Mamba stood. The troopers would defend them with their lives.

Mamba looked at the sky. The reinforcements had not come yet, but he still had a glimmer of hope.

He looked back to the street, when he heard the chants of the rebels coming closer.

Clark readied his lasgun. Jessy and Sharpie stood next to him, their weapons at the ready. They weren’t at the front lines, but they all knew they would have to fight in melee eventually.
The three soldiers stood on a destroyed vehicle, which laid on its side.

“So, this is it, hu?”, Sharpie said, more as a statement than a question. Clark smiled and shook his head. “Not necessarily! Let’s try to fight as long as we can, maybe a miracle will happen!”, Clark said jokingly.

Now they could see the first rebels running at them, in a suicidal way.

“Insane!”, Jessy whispered. They didn’t do anything, as the troopers on the frontlines shot the rebels down.

But then they could see the first enemy tanks and uncountable rebels that were running towards them.

Every trooper aimed his gun and fired. A storm of bullets cut through enemy ranks. Some of the rebels shot at them, but nothing that could hurt them.

“Get ready!”, a Lieutenant yelled, when a tank aimed at them. The shot was incredibly loud, but every Copperhead managed to evade the shot.

But it distracted them long enough, for some rebels to reach the frontlines. But the Copperheads weren’t feared by the enemy for no reason. The rebels were killed in a very brutal and aggressive way.

Now mayhem broke loose. The frontlines were fighting in close combat, a dozen tanks were firing at the Copperheads and a rain of bullets killed countless heretics.

The Copperheads were being pushed back, but every inch cost the rebels a lot of blood. Soon enough, the tanks had reached the frontlines. This shoved that the rebels only wanted to advance and didn’t care about tactics, as now the Copperheads had a small advantage. They could blow up the tanks.

Rebels and Copperheads were fighting everywhere. Shots were fired and dead bodies were all over the street.

Clark had just punched through the chest of a rebel, when the first tank reached him.

“Idiots!”, he said to himself and threw his lasgun to the side. He ran through the fighting soldiers and climbed onto the tank. He grabbed a grenade and opened the tank's lid. Then he activated the grenade and threw it into the tanks. He jumped off the vehicle and ran away, as the tank blew up into a million pieces behind him.

Jessy and Sharpie were both still fighting. Clark noticed a rebel sneaking up behind Sharpie. Before Clark could warn him, the rebel rammed a knife into the soldier's leg. Sharpie screamed in pain and was sent to the ground by a punch to the face. The rebel was about to cut open his throat, but Clark came running at him and rammed his dagger through the heretics head.

“Sharpie, you okay!”, Clark asked, trying to breath normally. Jessy had just killed another rebel and joined them. They were hiding behind a burning tank.

“I can’t stand!”, Sharpie answered. He was clearly unable to keep fighting. Clark wanted to help him stand up, but the tank they were behind suddenly exploded. All three soldiers flew several meters.

Clark could hear the rebels chants clearly and tried to stand up, but his leg had been crushed by the explosion. Several rebels walked towards them, laughing at the pain of others.

“Bastards!”, Clark yelled and wanted to grab his gun, but one of the rebels shot through his hand. The pain was incredible. One of the rebels raised his gun, aiming it at Clarks head.

The Sergeant knew there was nothing he could do. He closed his eyes and thought of his family.

But he didn’t die. Instead the air became very warm. Clark opened his eyes and saw that the rebels had been engulfed in flames. When the flames stopped, the rebels were no more.

Clark could hear heavy footsteps behind him. He turned around and saw a giant of a man holding a flamethrower. The man was much bigger than Clark, as he was an Astartes.

His armour was green and black and a green dragon head befitted the shoulder pad.

Clark had heard of this Space Marine Chapter, the Iron Drakes. Protectors of the innocents and Heralds of the Flame.

The Space Marine walked to the three men and took his off helmet. He smiled at them. “You fought well, but let us carry the burden now!”

Mamba turned around, when he noticed someone behind him. It was his psyker.
“Arman! Are there news?”, he asked hopefully. The man nodded and stepped aside. The door behind him opened and someone came through.

It was a Space Marine, in green and black armour. An Iron Drake. Mamba smiled.

“I am Lord Jaeger, 3rd Drake Lord of the Iron Drakes!”, the huge man said. “Indeed you are!”, Mamba answered. The man revealed his face and smiled at Mamba. “We will take it from here!”

Every story has two sides. And that the Iron Drakes are kind, caring and have a warm heart is only one side of their story. Clark saw nothing of this. All he saw were merciless warriors that burned and crushed their enemies.
The rebels were burned to death and those that survived were simply exterminated by the Space Marines fists.

The rebels feld back into the under hives and Clark knew the battle was won. Soon after, medics came onto the battlefield and helped the survivors. Clark was taken care of and Jessy and Sharpie had both survived. Clark was happy, as he would see his family again and the civilians had all been saved.

Mamba stood atop a roof and looked down to the city. He smiled, he had won. Lord Jaeger stood next to him and looked at the sky.
“I wanted to thank you!”, Mamba said,”without you we wouldn’t have won!”

Lord Jaeger smiled and he turned his head to Mamba. “It was our pleasure! We protect the innocent in the name of the Emperor!”

Mamba nodded and looked back at the city. “For the Emperor!”

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