+++ Rapid Response Force +++
+++ 5th Company +++
+++ “No Remorse” +++
THE YOUNG SCOUT Blood Angel Marines were pinned down. Although they had not taken any casualties, they had not made any effort to secure more suitable cover. There were nine scouts in total crouching in an abandoned wooden temple. It was dark inside except for the light that shinned in through the many and constant bullet holes in the walls. After surviving planetfall through the heavy orbital defenses, the scouts disembarked from their Thunderhawk transport and made for the nearest cover. Sergeant Dempsey gestured for the young squad to keep their eyes peeled. This was the squad’s first combat mission and it was Dempsey’s responsibility they all came back alive. An order he had no plan on disobeying. Dempsey was regularly chosen to lead the new recruits out into battle; he was given this task due to the great respect he received from his fellow Battle Brothers. Dempsey was a Marine in every sense of the word and was a leader, a perfect example to the chapter of how a Blood Angel should act in the eyes of the Emperor himself. He was honorable and disciplined. But not this day.
Dempsey suddenly clutched his Bolt Gun. Fire begun to burn in his soul. He saw images of an epic battle thousands of year past. Dempsey knew the symptoms; he had witnessed many strong willed brothers fall the same way he was beginning to. Dempsey fell to his knees and began a pray to Sanguinius and the Emperor in an effort to extinguish the fire in his soul. Enemy laser fire began to cut through the cover in front of them and Dempsey’s scouts were looking at their superior for orders or some form of guidance. But it was too late, the honorable Sergeant had circum to the Red Thirst, the curse of the Blood Angels, the Black Rage.
An artillery shell came whistling down from the heavens and tore apart a scout squad to Dempsey’s left, leaving behind nothing but a crater the size of a Land Raider. This was the last trigger for Dempsey. He could taste blood in the air, and he took off. Darting through the trees, leaving his Bolt Gun behind, Dempsey pulled his power sword from its sheath. His squad, seemingly leaderless, were hot on his heels. They did not know what exactly their orders were now except to follow their Sergeant into the engagement. Dempsey was well ahead of the young scouts now as the lead scout watched on as Dempsey’s upper torso recoiled as it was hit with a high velocity Bolt round. Ignoring the wound Dempsey pushed on, even faster and more ferocious. Another round impacted his right shoulder tearing his shoulder pad clean off. With only one arm functionally, Dempsey raised the power weapon high into the air and threw himself into the trench that was the source of the incoming fire.
The scouts had now given up their fruitless chase realizing that they could not keep up with the speed and agility of their experienced and battle hardened Sergeant. They had lost visual on Dempsey and could only take shelter and listen on to the sound of men screaming in agony, the sound of shotgun rounds, and more screaming, death, and dying. Then the sound of a grenade, followed by silence, and the scouts knew it was Brother Dempsey’s end.
Before the scouts had time to think about their next move, the trench lit up with incoming fire, the scouts, it seemed, had left themselves in a cross fire as the sound of an artillery battery let lose a volley of destruction on their position. The ground erupted as the shells impacted with the ground. Trees and shrubs were sent flying hundreds of meters into the air. But the scouts had been lucky this time, the co-ordinates for the barrage were slightly out and it had given them a way out of the firing line and deeper into the woods. They rose to their feet and quickly made their way down the path created for them. They moved like they had a purpose because they knew that when the Artillery fired again they would not be as fortunate. With laser fire nipping at there heals the scouts saw an old wooden structure up ahead and made there way toward it. The nine scouts burst through the door and hit the ground. Shocked and leaderless the scouts braced for impact as they heard another barrage whistling down in their direction.
They had stumble into an abandoned temple many hundreds of years old. The derelict building would not serve as suitable cover, evident as enemy Bolt rounds were soon passing through the structure with relative ease. But where were the scouts to go? It was their first combat mission and Dempsey had fallen. Their leader and mentor was gone. The bullets that were passing through the old wooden temple abruptly stopped giving the scouts some valuable time to check their munitions and their equipment. Another barrage hit close to home and screams filled the air. Not human screams. They sounded like the screams of Battle Brothers. Suddenly the doorway was smashed open and light flooded into the room, a gigantic marine burst through. The scouts couldn’t make out exactly who he was as they could only see the marines silhouette. One scout did recognize and he muttered the words “Pastor Guiar Acompañar Negras” which the others scouts knew only to well as The Black Shepard. It was the Chaplain of the 5th Company. No one knew his real name but it was after the campaign on Zaggoma Secondus and the daring assaults from the Chaplain and his Death Company that earned him the nickname. The Black Shepard. The one who will forever spearhead the assault on heresy, and the endless war on Horus himself. He spoke quickly and with authority.
“Brother Dempsey is with the almighty Emperor. There will be time for his mourning. Now is NOT the time. Get on your feet my young brothers and fight. Fight for Brother Dempsey, fight for the Emperor, and FIGHT FOR SANGUINIUS!”