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Well here it is part 2, hope it gets abit more attention then part 1. Question to those who read, is it too long? I don't know as some people may not want to read so much. Anyways...as always feedback, comments, whatever you want to say is always welcome. Please comment and rate ^^

Oh and I apologise for the M/M tag, I needed it to get it to post. Trust me the action is comming...just next chapter

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Flashpoint

When I arrived here I thought we could make a difference. That was five years ago. How naive I was. It's almost as if the planet itself wants to kill us, not that I can blame it. They glassed another hive yesterday; just wiped it from the face of the planet. They deployed the big guns to level it. Utter beasts of artillery, with their barrels erected they stand almost as tall as a block of flats. It took six of them and three hours to level this hive. Three hours to kill over twenty thousand lives, I gotta say it's an impressive feat. As to why it happened, we don't really know why. Apparently they captured four scientists and executed them, then proceeded to hang their corpses over their main gate. As sickening as it is, did it justify the extermination of the whole hive? Every man, woman and child? I don't know maybe it did, maybe it didn't.

All I know is that both sides are gearing for a war. I don't know how it will play out but it's going to be big. Two more battle-cruisers arrived in orbit today bringing with them the CXVI Corps. The Vandoon seemed to mirror this by moving a large concentration of warriors towards the line of forest that separates the Nidian and Vandoon controlled zones. It's a fuckin' shitstorm just waiting to kick off and guess where Hades is? That's right, it's on the front line. Hell we are the frontline. The forest to the east is where the Vandoon territory starts.

Whatever goes down, we are going to be right in the thick of it.

-from the diaries of 2nd Lieutenant Alex Fairchild, Striker Company, 2nd Battalion, 4th Mech Bde, January 29th, 2244

Two days had passed since 3rd Platoon of Striker Company had arrived in Hades, joining up with 2nd and 4th platoons. That same day the company's fire support group arrived after playing as the primary escort to a LIST team. LIST stood for Local Infrastructure Support Team. Basically they were psychological-operations troopers, who were tasked with helping improve relations with the local Vandoon population. Why high command thought using the most heavily armed men in the company as an escort was a good idea, Alex would never know.

The returning LIST team wasn't very happy either. Apparently they had been pulled out early on direct orders from High Command. Rumours began to circulate the camp that LIST teams all across the front line had been recalled on the direct orders of General Daniel Hawkins, Commander In Chief, - Nidian Imperial Army on Tarturus. It was an ominous sign, combined with ever increasing border skirmishes and ambushes involving Vandoon insurgents, everyone knew that it wouldn't be long before it all kicked off.

All three Striker platoons had taken up positions along the eastern bunker line. Their area of responsibility covered the forward edge of the bases bunker and trench line, this section was the closest to the unofficial DMZ between Nidian and Vandoon territory. This meant that the one company had to hold not only just the most exposed piece of bunker line but the most likely the breach point for any Vandoon assault. They had received few reinforcements from units that were trickling into Hades after the now confirmed, universal withdrawal from Vandoon territory.

The 6 kilometre line of defences had been split between the three platoons, with the FSG (fire support group) and Headquarters squad holding the central command bunker. The line itself was a v shaped salient towards the direction of the forest. On their flanks were several heavy gun stations to provide close fire support but even that might not hold off a fully fledged Vandoon assault. It was also one of the oldest parts of the bases defensive line, first constructed twenty years ago when the base was first founded to defend the small colonial settlement. Now Hades protected the largest of the Nidian's colonies as well as maintaining the front line.

Fairchild's platoon was positioned at the very tip of the V. Their two kilometre stretch of bunker and trench reinforced with sandbags and giant bags of dirt. They were spread thinly with their amassed fire teams creating a thin line along the trench's. The bunkers that were scattered along the line were manned by the platoon's fire support teams, the raised concrete and steel constructs affording their heavy machine guns and grenade launchers an unparalleled view across the line.

High command had finally seen sense for once in Fairchild's opinion and had recognised the danger posed to Hades by this salient. So to ensure it didn't fall they had given the company's Forward Observation Officer full authority to call on the 205mm Rail Assisted Howitzers stationed in Hades' artillery park. The knowledge that such beasts of artillery weapons were covering them was a huge morale boost to the furs of Striker Company.

Fairchild stared out at the forest, his red eyes scanning the tree line and the dead ground before it. The setting sun casting a red glow across the sky as Hades settled in for another night. Across the base lights began to flicker out in the rear echelon barrack complexes as the those furs curled up to sleep, safe in the knowledge that their base was safe, or so they thought. For those manning the front line there was no time to rest, they were stretched so thin the soldiers were only allowed an hour or two of downtime. Fairchild had to laugh. The situation made a total mockery of the Nidians alleged military superiority. The most vulnerable part of one of the most heavily guarded bases on the planet had less protection then the cosy and safe rear-guard logistics bases.

He turned back from the fire step, looking first at the three sleeping furs of his command section and then over to Gray who had his eyes glued to the combatant detection screen. The blue screen which cast its eerie glow around the bunker was connected up to a series of thermal, motion and infra-red sensors that were placed at strategic points all along the perimeter, collating their readings and displaying them on one screen. " Anything on the grid Vaughan?" He sighed as he spoke, collapsing down on a cold steel chair, his body heavy from just three hours sleep in four days"

"Scope's more or less clean. Got some movement out there but nothing unusual, hell the men could do with a quiet night." Yawning as he moved to sit on the chair next to Alex. He cracked his gloved paws, ears splayed back across his head.

"Do you think we can get away with standing down the unit? Just for one night? The men could do with the sleep."

"Yeah, hell I could do with the sleep...maybe just for one night..." Gray's voice was tinged with doubt but it was obvious from the way he slumped in his seat, eyes half closed that he was dead on his feet. Constant watches did that to you.

"Get some shut eye Vaughan, I'll keep watch." He raised his paw to cut off Gray's protest, nodding his head to the empty sleeping bag on the floor. "Seriously mate, I got it covered." Fixing a smile on his face, Vaughan was way too tired to put up a protest as he almost fell of the chair, clambering inside the sleeping bag, so tired even he didn't remove his body armour. Alex watched him sleep for a few minutes; the same smile glued on his face as his head began to wonder, flashing back to his child hood memories.

A paw stroking down his naked back, another stroking his cheek, his lips connecting with someone else's, his own paw reaching down to... "Gah! Snap out of it Alex." Whispering angrily to himself as he violently shook his head, standing up in a hurry to clear his mind as he headed towards the platoon's main radio they had set up in the bunker's alcove. Squinting his eyes as they blurred with tiredness, he hit the button that connected him to the platoon radio net.

"All striker 3-1 uniforms..." He yawned loudly down the radio, causing it to crackle softly before continuing "sound off." Alex watched the lights flicker on the radio set for a second or two, almost slipping into a sleep educed trance before the speakers of the radio basted him back to reality.

"1st Squad, no movement" The gruff, low growl of a voice belonging to the Doberman in command of 1st Squad said.

"2nd Squad, nothing but 'good old' nothing on our scope..." Came a much lighter, bubbly voice than the Doberman, piped up, although that could be put down to the tiger in command of 2nd squad being an optimist to a fault.

"3rd Squad, I'm here. I got the odd spike in heat but that's it." An obviously tired fox responded over the net, his heavy accent making it no easier to understand him.

"This is 4th squad, watch is clear. Turrets on over watch read 100%" By now the voices just seemed to blend into one mass for Fairchild. Instead he relied on the visual green/red status lights displayed next to the radio set, waiting for each one to go green. Once they all did he cut off whoever was speaking with a short static buzz. "Okay Striker 3..."A yawn interrupting his flow of words once more "Stand down across the line, set all defences to auto and place a watch with the most rested soldiers, the rest of the men can get some kip. Striker 3 actual out"

He sat there for a few more minutes, listening to the "Solid copy" calls. The squad leader's acknowledging their orders. Then with a groan he stood up, heaving his tired body up to a standing position, looking around the room for a place to just crash down for an hour or two. Stepping gingerly between the already sleeping bodies of his command section he saw that the only space was between the wall and where Gray had fallen asleep. His eyes blurry as tiredness overwhelmed him, his mental barriers lowered now he was so close to his resting place he didn't even acknowledge the trooper from 5th squad who was going to stand watch for the command section.

Fairchild hit the ground with a thud, like everyone around him he hadn't bothered to remove his armour before attempting to sleep. Just before the much awaited sleep finally claimed him, he rolled over onto his other side, Gray's face filling his mind as he finally fell asleep.

All across the line, not just in the trenches occupied by Striker 3 but in all the trenches and fortification of Hades bases, overstretched and overtired soldiers dropped off to sleep. A sense of calm seemed to fill the air; soldiers getting what appeared to be the first night of quiet for a long time. As the stars twinkled high up in the nights sky, the tree's below rustled in the light breeze, swaying left and right as the wind changed direction. Shadows seemed to dart between the rustling branches, putting the sentries on edge wondering if it was just their eyes playing tricks on them, but minutes turned into hours and they relaxed once more.

As night crept into morning, the men and women of Hades continued to slumber peacefully. Sentries that were dead on their paws continued to watch the tree line, squinting in the half light of the twilight. Staff Sergeant Samuel Banner was a large grey wolf with a large scar down the side of his arm. He tapped the screen of the sensor scope with one of his claws, the other paw wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Slight concentrations of both motion and thermal that's strange." He darted his sharp but tired eyes back up to the tree line, he could swear he could pick out moving shadows in amongst those branches. He once more cursed the fact his night vision goggles had stopped working earlier that night, shaking his head as he tapped his personal radio's transmit button. "This is Striker Post 4, request illumination directly in front of my position. Out"

"Illumination inbound. Out" The crackled response was accompanied by three soft thuds as the company's mortar squad fired off illumination rounds. Three little wisps of light arched over Banner's position before with a popping sound fully igniting, casting a bright white, eerie light over the dead ground as the illumination flares drifted towards the ground on their parachutes.

Banner saw them as soon as the flares popped. Tall, lithe and standing about seven foot tall on their slightly bent legs; jet black insectoid Vandoon with their blades fully extended stood lining the tree line, their large honeycombed eyes boring into Banner. He stood their terrified as he saw the trees behind the front line shit with more movement, he stood there frozen. These were no ordinary Vandoon he realised. They were the black guard, an elite military formation of one of the great hive states. The black guard specialised in stealth assaults and infiltration, which was evident from the way they had somehow fooled the sensors and auto-turrets.

The tree line seemed to shift and start to move forward as slowly, step by step the Black Guard advanced, their natural two foot long scythes held high, the other four limbs drawing various other melee weapons. It was at this point Banner shook himself violently, realising he had to raise the alarm. The large wolf's paw grabbed for his assault rifle, the other slamming into the large red alarm handle on the trench wall, yanking it down.

The silence of the night was shattered by the screech of klaxons. The infernal screech of the perimeter alert kicked Hades base into action. All across the base flood lights switched on, the whole base illuminated in a matter of seconds. Within seconds of the alert going up, the voice of the bases watch officer was broadcast across all of the many speakers. "Stand to! Stand to! Vandoon in the wire! Eastern Bunker Line under assault! All units to stations! Stand to! Stand to!"

Alex was dreaming, dreaming quite peacefully actually. Once more it was that dream of those soft paws caressing his sides, the hot breath on his neck, the thump of two hearts he felt as he pressed himself up tight against his partner. Then the dream was shattered by the klaxons. Those klaxons that sent both fear and adrenaline shooting through his veins. Alex's eyes bulged in sudden realisation as he sat up, darting his eyes around the bunker, red strobes sporadically illuminating the darkness in an ominous light.

"Get the fuck up! VD in the wire! VD in the wire!"

"Striker Company, stand to! Stand to!"

"Shift base of fire right, Black Guard rifle line!"

"Post 4, post 4, respond. Post 4 respond." Shit post 4 has been over-run, watch for flanking manoeuvres."

The radio net was alive with activity, desperate calls for assistance mixed in with rallying calls and orders. Once more the surprise tactics and natural guile of the Vandoon had brought the Nidian armed forces down to their collective knees. The initial assault had obviously been a success with all contact lost with posts three, four and five, the very tip of the salient. On top of that, the Black Guard seemed to be using something, be it body mechanism or exterior feature that nullified their body heat, rendering them invisible to the heat sensitive eyes of the auto turrets.

Alex jumped to his footpaws, heavy boots clunking as he stumbled in confusion as almost as one the command section rose up from their slumber, bumping into each other. Growling loudly for them to get out of his way he almost leapt to the bunkers fire port, staring out at the trench line from his raised position. Below him he could see the bright blue muzzle flashes of his men's weapons, brighter flashes from the support weapons but still the large dual-quaded solid slug auto turrets stood silent, panning back and forth, the Black Guard rendered invisible to them. Alex slammed his fisted paw down on the concrete embrasure, yelling back into the now fully manned command bunker. "Corporal Matthews, can you re-program those turrets to motion? We need to stem the flow of reinforcements!"

"I can but it will take some..." A large explosion racked the bunker, knocking the stoat Matthews who was acting as the squad turrets technician to the ground. Alex himself was knocked forward, falling on top of the emplaced nail gun. His ears ringing from the explosion he stood there dazed for a second before shaking himself free of the shell shock.

"What the fuck was that? What in the name of Fenrir and Tor... what the fuck was that?" Alex voice was hoarse, his vision blurred as he picked himself up from the floor, only to be knocked back down by another explosion just a bit further down the embankment. Then a third and forth explosion racked the bunker line, great columns of dirt and mud erupting into the sky. Alex pulled himself up by grasping onto the bunkers concrete ledge, finally gaining a view of the demons besetting his position with fire.

Across the dead ground were five large beasts, giant eight legged beetles with carapace equivalent to tank armour. These beasts were normally docile and quiet but the Vandoon seemed to have some ability of control over them. Nidian scientists had theorised about limited mental control ability the Vandoon may have possessed, but never before had we seen it in action. Normally used as common labour beasts and pack mules the Vandoon had turned them into walking tanks, strapping a platform and a primitive black powder cannon assembly onto them. This deadly combination also showed the diversity in technology between two hives and their armed forces, from the tribal black guard to the renaissance cannon troops. Not that Fairchild cared, his only concern was for his men.

As Fairchild watched from his command bunker Sam Banner stirred, a low groan issuing from his lips. When he had spied the initial Black Guard assault he had managed to raise the alarm and fire off a few shots, however this had drawn on him the first cannon salvo. Luckily for him the bunker's concrete and steel construction has saved him from death, the concussive wave having just knocked him down into a dark dug out. This had by some miracle saved him from the murderous blades of the Black Guard who had killed the other furs in this section of trench line.

Anger flooded his veins as the faces of his friends flashed through his head, a loud growl escaping his lips. Banner tried to lift himself but there was a large weight pressing down on him. With a grunt he managed to roll himself over to see what was weighing him down, his eyes meeting another furs. These eyes however were dead and devoid of life, the body attached to it carved up, obviously by the blades of the Vandoon. Banner glanced around the room, spying a dozen more bodies, all of them men from his platoon. The Black Guard had obviously shoved all the dead bodies in here as they cleared the trenches for their much larger bodies.

This was just too much for him, with tears streaming down his grey cheeks, he let out a feral howl. A supernatural strength filling his limbs as he cast off the multiple dead, armoured furs like they were feathers. As he rose he spied his MK XVI "Death Dealer" portable nail gun. The MKXVI was designed to be a vehicle mounted, six barrelled beast of a weapon that fired large metal spikes with a faster fire rate then most machine guns. It was only Banners large girth that allowed him to wield such a weapon. His eyes full of fire he advanced into the sunlight of the the blasted open trench line open trench line, sweeping left and right for targets.

It didn't take him long. Just outside were two Black Guards, obviously stragglers who had been injured from initial rifle fire. He blew them both into tiny pieces, covering the trenches in black blood and guts. Then advancing at a slow and methodical pace he (headed, towards the sound of the heaviest fighting. Blowing apart each Black Guard he came across, his grey fur now dripping with black viscera. Then as he finished off the heavily injured Guardsmen he heard drums. Loud war drums from across the dead ground. As he turned, he saw to his astonishment what must have been over 300 uniformed Vandoon advancing across the land in a double rifle line. These troops were defiantly from a more advanced hive the one that the Black Guard came from. Never the less, if these troops reached the trench line, the Nidians would be over run.

So with another guttural howl, Banner launched himself from the trench, running full pelt at the line, firing his nail gun on fully auto. He cut down swathes of Vandoon only for another three to take place. The seemingly indomitable line never ceasing in its advance and so Banner watched his ammo counter descend rapidly, knowing he would never have enough. Hearing the feared 'dead man's click' he roared as he threw the now useless cannon to the ground his large claws gleaming in the morning sun as he charged towards the line.

Seeing the mad wolf charging them the Vandoon line took a knee, preparing to put a rifle volley into him and stop him dead. Orders ran up and down the line, the wolf growing ever closer before as one the officers yelled the order to fire, over two-hundred rifles kicking into shoulders, shrouding the unit in smoke, blocking their view of the wolf. They were not worried though; no ordinary fur could survive such a volley.

However - Luckily for the Nidians Banner was no ordinary fur. He was possessed by what was called the rage of Fenrir; an affliction that could happen to any wolfen soldier who is seized by such anger due to certain genes buried deep inside their genetic code. He tore through the bullets and into the line, large bouts of blood pouring from his many wounds but nothing could stop him. He tore the first several Vandoon line platoons to shreds; limbs, heads and guts shooting up into the air, raining down a haze of black blood. With a bestial roar he barrel rolled through the line, crushing, maiming and killing all in his path. No one could stand an onslaught like that. However one verses three hundred were poor odds even for a blood enraged wolf. Slowly the bayonet attacks and point blank rifle shots brought Banner to his knees, still clawing out desperately killing as many as he could, his fur now)stained black with the blood of the Vandoon.

Banner decimated a whole rifle line before being brought down by reinforcing columns. Piled upon by Black Guard and Vandoon line troops, he was brought down slowly and painfully, his roars and howls cutting through the embattled air. Then silence. The great wolf had been brought down and with him the moral of Striker Company crashed. As almost as one, any fur who wasn't embroiled in brutal hand to hand combat yelled out as one. Fairchild himself was yelling from his bunker a tear coursing its way through the dirt on his face "Banner! No!"

Sam Banner, the large friendly giant of Striker Company had been slain. That indomitable body had hidden one of the softest hearts to ever exist. Banner had been part of the heart and soul of the Strikers and now he had been torn from them. Yet they fought on, brief respite granted as Fairchild, Hawkins and Arruekmen threw in their last reserves in a desperate gambit to hold the line. Fairchild was still holed up in his bunker with the fire support group, co-ordinating what was left of his shattered line that was being over run by sheer numbers.

"Sergeant Matthews! Take what's left of 5th Squad and flank through the support trenches, we can not let the west line fall!

...

Sergeant Zander, move your squad up now! You're going to have to counter attack and take the fire trench before that next column reaches the line.

...

Radec, give me some good news, tell me the two-oh-threes are in position?"

Fairchild glanced down at his watch, brushing the concrete dust from its face. He stared at it in amazement. The Vandoon assault had begun only fifteen minutes ago, but those fifteen minutes had felt more like fifteen hours. Fairchild had seen his fair share of fighting on Tarturus but this was far beyond anything he had ever experienced. Amongst his snapped orders he fired off shots from his rifle, keeping an eye on the red digits that indicated his ammo count. Grimacing as he watched the numbers trickle from triple figures to double and then to single.

"Gray, throw me a magazine. I'm almost out." The MK XIIC R.A.A.Rs (Rail Assisted Assault Rifle) was the standard issue firearm of the Nidian Imperial Army. It came standard in mat black, was about 55 inches long, with a perforated barrel through which the glowing blue rails could be seen. It was set up in a pull pup style with the magazine placed behind the trigger, the cylindrical power cell attached just after the magazine, embedded into the rifles butstock.

The dingo tossed Fairchild a box magazine of fifty slugger rounds. These over sized rounds were designed to kill most things in one shot. He slammed the black box into the weapon and racked the charging handle, grinning as he heard the satisfying whine of the weapon charging. He didn't have to manually charge it, but he liked the sound it made. Now with his ammunition refilled he stood back up, determined to exact revenge for Banner. Placing the red dot sight attached to his weapon over a group of Black Guard approaching his bunker he methodically placed slugger rounds into their heads, causing them to shatter in a shower of black blood and brains. The black bodies crumpling in bloodied heaps.

Just as it seemed that the Nidians were forcing back the Vandoon, more black guard and line infantry began to sprint across the dead ground. Hundreds of fresh Vandoon troops moving to assault the beleaguered Nidian line. Fairchild cursed as he saw the new wave approaching he knew that Striker company couldn't hold them. He considered his options and cursed the strokes of bad luck that had beset him. First of all the failings of the auto-turrets not being fooled by the black guard, then of course when he had them shut down to re-configure Matthews had been shot and there had been no time to bring up another turret tech. Then to add to the problems the field guns had been taken out early by the surprise cannon attacks, no reinforcements were available as Hades was besieged on all sides, High Command having already deployed most of the reserve. Then finally the promised support from the 203mm howitzers seemed to have disappeared since Radec, the companies Forward Observation Officer had lost contact with them.

"Fuck it! I'm not losing any more men. Danielson, sound a general retreat. Fall back behind the wall!" Fairchild was yelling to the fox who was manning the bunker's radio set. The nervous, young recruit looked absolutely terrified as he switched to the Striker Channel and began announcing.

"All Striker 3 Uniforms fall back, fall back behind the wall. Move to rally point Charlie X-ray 4. I repeat fall back, fall back." The command was relayed to the other Striker platoons who in turn received orders from Hawkins and Arruekmen to retreat as well. Soon after the retreat was sounded, Danielson relayed the message onto the command net, only to discover that a base wide retreat had been ordered soon after the start of the Vandoon assault, however Striker Company had somehow missed the order. Somehow Striker Company had never received the message.

As furs broke off from the fighting in the trenches and began to stream along support lines back to the few underpasses which passed under the main wall. Finally someone inside the base managed to activate the auto-turrets buying Striker Company the time to disentangle itself and break off. The sounds of battle were drowned out, as the turrets activated simultaneously. Still set to thermal they ignored the Black Guard but set into the Vandoon line infantry with near perfect precision. Over twenty electronic eyes focused on the approaching infantry columns, target locks achieved in nanoseconds before with a God like crescendo the heavy calibre sluggers opened up, tearing into the packed ranks of Vandoon.

As the brass chattered to the ground from the mighty cannons, Fairchild continued to pop of shots from his bunker, refusing to pull back until he could confirm the rest of his men were safe. As Vandoon rushed the turrets, explosive shells taking a few of the sentry turrets out but the rest carried on, dealing death and destruction as they swept left and right, small mountains of spent brass collecting underneath them.

"Alex come on! We have to fall back; we don't want to get cut off." Gray's voice was almost pleading as he looked back at the trench that led from the bunker, seeing an empty expanse that could easily be filled with hostiles. The rest of the command section had already fallen back and were providing covering fire from the underpasses' gate. Only Fairchild, Gray and Matthews were left. Matthews had slung the radio set on his back and was clasping his rifle firmly in his paws, bayonet attached firmly to its end. Gray had his rifle slung, a large trench axe held by the shaft, its blade already stained black with the blood of the Vandoon. "Alex, for the love of Fenrir, we need to go! Now!"

Fairchild took one last look out across the blasted wasteland, his eyes resting where Banner had fallen for a brief moment before he turned around, slinging his now depleted rifle. "Okay Vaughan, lets..." His voice trailed off as he saw Black Guard leap into their escape trench, scythes, swords and axes held high as they slowly advanced towards the three furs. Gray cursed and raised his axe, gripping the handle with both paws. Danielson whined loudly as he readied his bayonet and Fairchild, a heavy look in his eyes reached down to his waist where he had strapped on his heavy chainsword. He took the weapon from his waist, flicking the ignition switch, a low whine issuing from it as the motor spluttered into life. Then moving his thumb from the ignition switch to the red button just above it, depressing it, grinning widely as he was rewarded with a loud roar as the blade began spinning. Releasing the button momentarily, the blade ceasing its movement, he glanced left and right and nodded to his two companions.

The three of them ran forward as one, Fairchild's arm raised high the chainsword's diamond tipped blade roaring. He brought it down on the first Black Guard, cleaving the insect in half, literally splitting him down the middle. Gray slammed his axe into the abdomen of another, sending a powerful spurt of arterial blood high into the air as he tore his axe free. Danielson' dealt with the other, bayoneting one in the eye socket before blasting him off his rifle with a quick bust of fire. The young fox grinning as he slowly overcame his first battle fears. Just as the trio prepared to deal with the second set of Guardsmen, the Vandoon opposing them were cut down by a squad of Nidian Marines who had run from the underpass to help escort them back. With a nod of gratitude, Fairchild ran full pelt for the passage under the main wall of Hades, the furs manning the emplaced rail gun turrets giving them covering fire.

They practically threw themselves at the underpasses primary entrance as Vandoon hordes closed in behind them, a different kind to the line infantry and Black Guard. The Vandoon chasing them were more like medieval foot soldiers, large hordes of them swarming towards the gates with Line Infantry and Black Guard moving up behind them. Luckily they were two far away to beat the marines manning the underpass, who, as soon as Fairchild and the others were clear, hit the lockdown button on the gate controls. Large blast doors fell from inside the wall, closing of the underpass, forming an armoured barrier nearly as thick as the wall itself.

Fairchild had fallen flat on his face as he had thrown himself clear of the underpass just before the last blast door had fallen. He just lay there panting heavily, face down in the dirt. He could still hear the roar of battle filling the air. Hades was still besieged on all sides, there was no respite yet as what seemed more hive armies flooded into the assault. Then he heard a voice yelling his name, looking up to see Gray running over from where he had fallen. "Come on you lazy ass, it aint' nap time yet."

"Oh shut it Vaughan, have you forgotten how to salute." Making the friendly jibe as grasped Gray's paw, pulling himself up. He glanced around, trying to see where the rest of his men, only to his horror to see less then he had hoped for. "So many missing faces...Vaughan, I want a head count." The dingo saluted ad ran of gathering the furs of 3rd platoon. Fairchild glanced around at the large, jumbled group of soldiers and marines, who were forming up behind the wall, just in case the Vandoon by some miracle managed to breach the twelve meter concrete and steel wall.

He spied men from all of Striker Company mixed in with the Marines who were responsible for the main wall itself. He spied 2nd lieutenant Ryan Hawkins, fourth platoons commander over the one side, supervising the construction of makeshift barricades. 1st Lieutenant Ferron Arruekmen, second platoons commander was also busying himself with he remains of the Fire Support Group as they set up their portable rail cannons. Marines and other soldiers sprinted about, taking up fire positions, all of them hoping that the wall and the turrets on top of it could hold off the Vandoon.

Then the air was split by a thunderous sound, the ground itself shaking. All eyes turned to look up at the wall as smoke rose from it. Several furs manning crew served weapons thrown backwards off the wall, hitting the ground with a sickening crack. Tired and desperate eyes looked at the wall in horror as the ground shook with more explosions. The Vandoon had brought up more guns and now they were giving the eastern salient a hell of a beating. Wall mounted rail cannons and crew served rail repeaters desperately tried to hold off the horde, but they were vastly outnumbered. Under the unceasing barrage of primitive yet effective explosives, began to dent and crack the wall. After one particularly loud explosion a visible crack could be seen on the rear side. A loud cry going up, as the wall began to crumble. "Get the fuck off the wall!"

"Fall back! Fenrir be damned their breaching the wall...oh by the gods."

"HQ, HQ this is Raptor actual, east wall is breached! I repeat the east wall has been breached!"

As gunners abandoned turrets and slid down escape ladders, anyone hanging around the base of the wall sprinted back to the secondary defence line that had been formed at the edge of the barrack sections. This gave the Nidians roughly three hundred meters of open ground to massacre the Vandoon if they breached the wall. Yelling for the retreating gunners to 'get their arse's in gear' troops began to level rifles at the large cracks in the wall.

It took another two minutes of solid bombardment before the walls actually fell. Just as the last gunner vaulted the barricades the walls of Hades fell and the flood gates were opened. It happened quickly, the rumble of the concrete failing and collapsing accompanied by a large plume of dust across the four major breaches. Then they came, hundreds upon hundreds of Line Infantry, swarm and Black Guard rushed through the breaches towards the Nidian line, at the centre of which the Imperial Flag, rescued from the East Walls HQ bunker stood, flying high and proud. Then over the comlink the Marine colonel running the east walls defence yelled "Furs of Nidia...open fire!"

The first volley of rail gun fire was an impressive sight. Rail cannons sent large, super charged explosive rods towards the horde. Heavy and light machine guns sent tens of thousands of rounds hurtling down range whilst the infantry small arms added their own blue darts of death to the firing line. The Vandoon's primitive rush tactic was costing them thousands of lives, as they threw themselves into the maelstrom. Huge mounds of bodies began to form at random intervals, acting as grotesque cover for the troops coming behind them. Each suicidal wave using the barricades of their fallen comrades to get just that little bit closer to Nidians.

Fairchild had commandeered a RMG-45 heavy machine gun emplaced on a makeshift barricade of steel tables and chairs. The triple barrelled weapon normally manned by three furs was instead manned by just Fairchild, who swung it left and right, cutting down Vandoon with each sweep. Next to him Gray had somehow managed to get his paws on an experimental portable anti-matter cannon. Lying prone with the large weapon, he sent impressive lances of anti matter into the hostile forces, the experimental weapon annihilating huge groups at a time. To his other side Danielson was laughing as he took snap shots with his rifle, dropping Vandoon left right and centre.

It was a massacre. The Vandoon had put themselves in such a position that the Nidians were able to bring the full brunt of their firepower to bear on them. Although all too quickly the reason for such a suicidal tactic was becoming clear. The prolonged, intense fire fight had severely drained ammunition reserves. No resupply had come from any of the ammo depots even after repeated calls from both the Marine colonel and other officers. The large guns of Hades were also silent. These two foreboding signs indicated something had happened inside the base, not that anyone on the east wall cared. All they cared about was holding their section of the line, despite garbled reports that the other wall defences had been broken and that they were falling back to the inner base.

"Striker Company keep up the fire! We're pushing them back." Fairchild roared over the sound of battle, Hawkins and Arruekmen echoing his calls down the line. It was then though when the 'clicks' started happening. Ammo counters bleeped as they got into single figures and then hit zero, the accompanying 'dead mans click' filling the soldiers with dread. The line's ammo was almost depleted. Desperate calls for ammo filled the supply net as what was left was quickly re-distributed to the critical sections of the line. Then in what looked like one last ditch assault the Vandoon surged across the last one hundred meters. Those with any ammo left flicked onto full auto, determined to kill as many as possible. Grenades flew out as they grew closer, the 'crumps' of the detonations filling the air. Reserve pistols and other personal weapons were drawn, their owners firing them point blank into the line. With no more then ten meters to go, the Vandoon suddenly stopped, turned tail and ran back towards the breaches, their opponents looking on in relief.

It was just in time as the last of the Nidians main weapons clicked dry, their gunners sighing in relief as they saw the horde retreating.

"We did it! Look at them run!"

"Fuck yeah! Run back to your fucking pits!"

"No one beats the Imperial Marines. No one!"

More jubilant calls of victory were cut short as the real reason for the horde's retreat became clear. In regimented formation, chanting an alien call that hurt the Nidians ears approached the Black Guard. The slow march along with their heavy footfalls made a steady drum beat putting fear in the hearts of their opponents. Fairchild almost broke down there and then, the high of what they thought was a victory falling just as quickly as it had risen Gray just slung the anti-matter cannon on his back and picked up his trench axe, weighing it in his paws. Danielson and several others whined in despair. Marines, soldiers and gunners knew they didn't have the ammunition to hold off the elite black guard. The radio net had gone silent. No one knew what to do. They had never faced such an organised assault from the Vandoon. The Black Guard filled out into an unceasing line the other side of the wall, staring down the Nidians.

"Nidians...we only have but one choice and that is not surrender. Whilst we still draw breath the east wall will not fall, whilst we still draw breath Hades shall not fall to these savages. If we fail, over seven million colonists, innocent hard working people will be put in danger. We will not let this happen...Fix bayonets!"

It wasn't the colonel speaking, nor was it any of the senior officers. It was the indomitable Sergeant Major of Striker Company, Charlotte Crux. Originally a white tiger, a few years ago she had had an accident with a genetic modification machine. This accident had changed her plain black stripes for an assortment of rainbow ones. No one dare ridicule her though, for fear of losing their life. She was one of the few non-canine female Sergeant Majors on Tarturus, a feat in itself. On top of that she had a list of honours to her name longer then most of the same rank. Known to her men as Sergeant Major or to her friends as Charlie; everyone had heard the stories, but most assumed she was male. It came as a great shock to them when they found out the truth, how mistaken they were always proved to be.

None of Striker Company disobeyed her orders. The surviving furs pulled out long bayonets from their holsters, locking them into position around their rifles. The Marines hesitated but then followed suit, the Nidian line now glinting silver in the sun. Assortments of mêlée weapons also appeared, officers and senior NCOs drawing chainswords, revving the weapons motors. The Marine colonel didn't seem to mind Crux taking charge, even he knew of her reputation, content to draw his intricate sword, pressing a button on its hilt, igniting the power field on it that would let him slice through the heaviest armour like it was corn

Crux now spoke in her best parade ground voice, needing no amplification for it to carry the length and breadth of the line. "We are the Imperial Army! We are the Imperial Marines! We shall not falter in our service to the empire! Nidians...in the name of Fenrir and the Emperor, CHARGE!" Then carrying the Imperial standard in one paw a chainsword in another she leapt over the barricade, screaming a feral battle cry at the Black Guard. Behind her the Nidian line surged forward, officers echoing Crux's call to charge. With bayonets levelled, a battle cry on their lips the furs of the 18th Marine Expeditionary Brigade, 9th Armoured Division (to which Striker Company belonged) and the 901st Imperial Artillery Regiment surged forward to meet the Black Guard, who at the same time initiated their counter attack, the two lines rapidly closing the distance between them.

The Nidians screamed their battle cries at the top of their voices, filling the air with their howls. The Vandoon responded in kind "with a chilling battle cry of their own; their alien mouths emitting the same infernal noise that had had the Strikers quaking not 2 minutes before. You couldn't find two more contrasting forces. The high tech, heavily armoured Nidians with their heavy chainswords and long bayonets against the low tech, nimble Black Guard, armed with their natural scythes and a multitude of shorter melee weapons.

At the front of the Nidian line ran Crux, holding the banner high, revving her chainsword as she careered into the Black Guard. Bringing the weapon down in a cleaving swing she cut of the head of one Guardsman, gutting another. Then with an elaborate swing she cut two more black bodied insects in half, evading their comrades counter attacks. Along with her the Nidian bayonet line fell upon the Black Guard like demons of old. Throwing their considerably armoured girths behind their thrusts they stabbed, sliced and gutted Black Guard left right and centre, Nidian officers chopping the insectoids into little pieces with their roaring chainswords.

As the charge descended into a large free for all/ however the weight and reach of the Nidian weapons became cumbersome as the smaller, more agile weapons of the Black Guard darted inside their guard, stabbing at un-armoured spots. Nidian and Vandoon alike fell in the brutal melee, but for each Nidian to fall, ten Vandoon were sent to their hell. The Nidians were fighting like cornered dogs, fighting for house and home. On top of this, most of the Vandoons thrusts were deflected by the heavy armour most of the troops wore. However the armour was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that it deflected most of the wild stabs and slashes but a curse as it didn't give them enough time to deflect the more accurate ones.

More Vandoon flooded into the breach, these not guardsmen but standard line troops who had rallied. However to much to the Nidians relief more troops rushed from the barrack defensive line to join the ragged line of paw to paw fighting. A sudden crack followed by a roar suddenly filled the air, causing both Nidian and Vandoon to duck instinctively. Over head fly a flight of UAH-72 Black Sharks, the gunships flying low over the breached walls in a show of force.

Crux's voice raised once more above the racket, waving her imperial standard high. "Push them back towards the breaches! The air force is with us! In the name of Nidian Empire. Forward!" The arrival of the gunships caused a surge in the Nidian line and for the Vandoon to waver. Pushing hard they continued to cut their way towards the breaches.

Fairchild ducked a particularly vicious swing from a giant of a guardsman. This particular Vandoon towered above his compatriots. He must have been about nine foot tall. Getting under his guard Fairchild sliced upwards with his chainsword, lopping off an arm and one of the monsters scythes. He paid for his small victory as the monstrosity brought its other scythe around, slamming into his side, sending him flying to the floor. Groaning in pain as he rolled over onto his back, he once again thanked Fenrir for the toughness of his body armour. Pushing himself back onto his paws he picked up his chainsword to confront the guardsman. Panting heavily as he circled it, other combats seeming to have separated away from them, forming a small circle of empty space.

Fairchild lunged forward once more going for a lethal side swipe, only for the alien to nimbly dodge to the side. He recovered quickly, reversing his swipe into a sideways swing, following his opponent. The chainsword connected with one of the guardsman's swords, snapping it in half but the strike was deflected. Growling loudly as once more his attack was defeated he locked eyes with the insect, both of them circling each other. Then to his surprise the Black Guard spoke, not in his natural tongue but in clear, un-accented Nidian. "Such brute force, you off-worlders have no grasp of finesse."

Fairchild stood gobsmacked, unable to comprehend that this monster was talking to him. The guardsman woke him from his daze. "What? You thought us savages, unable to fully grasp your language? We are not mere savages Nidian." The last word spat with a voice full of malice and hate, the creatures eyes blazing with fire.

"Finesse didn't seem to serve you when I chopped off those arms of yours." Fairchild responded calmly, revving his weapons blade once.

"You have no idea who I am do you?"

"Should I?"

The battle forgotten by both figures as they continued to circle each other, both of them making the odd feint or taunting gesture.

"I am the Marshall Senthrall of the Black Guard. I orchestrated this fortresses fall, I will bring about the end of your imperialistic occupation."

"This fortress hasn't fallen yet and it won't whilst I still draw breath."

"That can be corrected Nidian."

They both froze, eyes locked together for a brief second before they both lunged, weapons held high. They clashed and broke off, clashed and broke off again. Fairchild's chainsaw groaned loudly as its links grinded against the Marshall's scythe and sword, both of them twisting away. Then again they launched themselves at each other, swinging their weapons, hoping to catch their opponent off guard. Then with a ferocious downwards swing, Fairchild, cut off the Marshall's other scythe limb, in return he received a slash across his cheek. As his own warm blood trickled down his face, staining his fur, he continued to watch the Marshall, who was laughing, despite the fact he had now lost three limbs. "That will grow back eventually. I must congratulate you; you are most surprising Nidian. What is your name? I must know such a worthy adversaries name."

"2nd Lieutenant Alex Fairchild...Commanding officer of Striker 3" Panting heavily, leaning forward slightly as he gripped his weapon in two paws Fairchild planned his next move. Eyes darting over the Marshalls remaining weapons, two rather masterfully crafted long swords.

"Only a junior officer? If you were Vandoon you would have been a great warrior chief." The Marshall seemed to shake his head in disappointment before the conversation died once more. Both of them raised their guards for what they hoped would be the last clash.

Once more they lunged at each other, Fairchild trying for a sideways cleave, hoping to catch the Marshall of guard. He didn't. The Marshall of the Black Guard spun away from the sideswipe, countering with a swipe of his own. Fairchild's armour saved him from the initial sword swipe but almost by magic a revolver had appeared in the Marshalls other clawed hand, as he finished his spin he fired off two chambers point blank into Fairchild.

The world seemed to slow down to a crawl for Fairchild as he saw the hammer of the revolver fall, then the muzzle flash, milliseconds later the thump in his chest as the bullet contacted his chest plate. Then another flash but instead of a thud, he felt a hot, searing pain shoot through his abdomen as the bullet punched through his armour. It was a testament to his armour that the revolver shell hadn't blown a giant hole in him. So far the armoured vest had sustained multiple cuts and slashes, several rifle rounds and even a point blank revolver shot, it was inevitable that the second would penetrate but even still at a retarded velocity, enabling Fairchild to live on.

As he felt blood pooling under his armour he knew he had to finish this quickly. The Marshall had made a deadly mistake though of thinking Fairchild was finished and so he had fully lowered his guard. Taking advantage of this, Fairchild summoned the last of his strength into a desperate uppercut, catching the Marshall completely off guard. He sliced the weapon up through his groin, sternum and chest, the weapon eviscerating all the flesh and bone on its way up. The Marshall nearly cleaved fully in two. The weapons motor gave out as it ground against the top of the Marshall's ribcage, the chainsword lodging it between his shoulders, Fairchild released it as the Marshalls eyes darkened and his guts fell out from inside him pooling in the black blood.

The Black Guard still alive saw their leader fall, completely gutted by a Nidian. They could fight no more and broke. Running for their lives up and out of the breached walls of Hades, the Nidians hot on their tails. With the Black Guard the other Vandoon were routed, all of them scrambling for the perceived safety of the forest. It was here though that the gunships that had circled over before began to make strafing runs, killing many more as they ran. To add to the woes of the Vandoon the 203mm Rail Assisted Howitzers that had stood silent for the whole battle spoke, their god like thunder splitting the sky as the hyper velocity shells flew towards the ground.

Fairchild staggered slightly as he pressed a paw to the open wound on his armour. He managed to stay conscious long enough to see the great plumes of fire that were created by the impact of the 203mm shells. Knowing the battle was won he let out one victorious howl before he blacked out and collapsed next to the body of the Black Guard's Marshall. His own red blood mixing with the black of his slain Vandoon opponent. He fell on his back, face looking up at the sky, vaguely hearing someone familiar call his name before blacking out completely.

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