Big Game V – Chapter Sixty Two: Longing for Baal
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The disgusting pile of biomass that was once a Carinfex was still burning from the plasma damage that killed it. Its form was huge, a testament to the true power that it had before its life was ended. Vergil could feel the heat from his Combi-Plasma beginning to cool at last, a minute or two having past since he fired it on the creature.
He held his sword aloft in the air, trying with all his might to remain a charismatic beacon of hope to what few troops he still had left standing. Against all odds they were continuing to hold their position. Two devastator marines to the side of him let loose at a far away Zoanthrope, only managing to injure it. The damaged Baal Predator’s Heavy Bolters ringing harmlessly off the carapace of the monstrosity. Reports streamed in through the vox, that Tactical Squad Lighting Lance had engaged the large Warrior organisms. Their screams ended abruptly.
A curse slipped off the tip of Vergil’s tongue. His mission was to hold this ground, or make the enemy pay for every bloody inch. He would have preferred to achieve the first, but as it was turning out he’d have to settle for the second. His forces were too badly torn between the Word Bearers to the south and the Tyranids before him. Vergil sighed. War comes with casualties, he thought, and it is the fate of every Space Marine to meet such an end.
Whatever the reason, most of his vanguard was dead or injured, their sacred blood spilling onto the ground. His own sanguinary priest lay slain not far from his current position, unable to perform his duties to the Gene-Seed. Vergil quietly said a prayer for his fallen brothers.
Then there was the matter of Vergil’s cousin Verzues, sent to lead the Death Company into the face of Chaos. He’d not been heard from since he engaged their Daemon Prince.
Vergil looked at the battle field before him again. The Tyranids still standing seemed to lurch a bit. They then turned and abandoned the hideous tree they had been guarding. A devastator marine near him called out. “Captain! We’ve done it!”
“Yes we have,” Vergil acknowledged. But at what cost? He thought to himself as he returned to the bunker to await extraction. He looked forward to returning to Baal, and rebuilding his shattered company. After the rush to arrive, and two extended campaigns, it would be good to be home.
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