he sweet aroma of incense filled the launch bay of Severian and drifted in lazy coils from the incense burners carried by the Chaplaincy Hierophants who followed Chaplain Clausel. The scent reminded Captain Agemman of the northern highlands of Macragge, and he experienced a moment's nostalgia for his homeworld before his thoughts returned to the skull-masked Chaplain's prayers. He and a score of his fellow warriors of the Ultramarines' First Company knelt to receive Chaplain Clausel's blessing before climbing into their drop pods to begin the assault on the Tau colony below. Techmarines and expressionless servitors ministered to the drop pods, used silver aspergilla to anoint their charges with blessed oils, and removed the sacred warding pins that chained them to the deck of Severian.

"Into the fires of battle we go," intoned Clausel.

"Unto the anvil of war we strike," replied the Space Marines.

"We are the Ultramarines, warriors of the Emperor, and our bravery is beyond question! It is the stuff of the soul-forge, stronger than adamantium and enduring as the Immortal Emperor Himself. The fires of battle are our places of worship, the roar of bolters our prayers, and the slaughter of our foes an offering to the gods of battle!"

"Our bolters are charged with death," promised the assembled Space Marines. "They are the divine wrath of the Emperor!"

Clausel nodded, stopped before the opening of the nearest drop pod, and turned as his acolytes approached with his crozius arcanum and rosarius borne within vermilion-lined reliquary boxes. The crozius glittered as Clausel lifted it from the box, torch light winking from the blood-red eyes of the winged skull atop the weapon. Clausel leaned forward and allowed a hierophant with a gold face mask to place the rosarius around his neck, the heavy chain of the protective amulet contrasting starkly with the black of his armour.

Agemman rose to his feet, and the warriors of his company followed suit, the launch bay echoing to the crash of booted feet slamming to attention. He marched to stand beside Clausel and turned to his assembled warriors.

"Look to your weapons, brothers," he said. "We go to war!"

The sky above the Tau outpost on Nimbosa was a dirty, smudged mess of contrails and flak, batteries of pulse cannon painting the sky with traceries of fire. Streamers of fire streaked the sky as the Space Marine drop pods slashed downward toward their targets. Smoke from burning buildings twisted in the wind, and flames crackled hungrily as they devoured the fledgling xeno outpost. Tau tanks glided through the ruins as the first of the drop pods impacted the surface of the planet in great wash of flaring rocket engines. The armoured sides of the drop pod clanged open, and Captain Agemman swiftly debarked from the pod onto the surface of Nimbosa, his Terminators following him out and forming a perimeter.

"All squads, converge on my position. Wedge formation. Target dead ahead!"

Scrambling teams of alien soldiers opened fire on the newly arrived Terminators, but the blessings placed upon them held firm. Not a single warrior fell. The answering fire of the Terminators ripped through the Tau warriors and shredded them in a hail of mass-reactive bolts. More and more drop pods were landing. The blue-armoured Space Marines spread out in a prearranged pattern to secure the landing zone and push onto the Tau battery position. Thunderhawk gunships were en route with yet more warriors, and the Tau anti-aircraft guns had proven uncannily adept at shooting down Imperial aircraft. That could not be allowed to continue. Agemman watched Chaplain Clausel cut down Tau warriors like wheat before the scythe, his crozius arcanum a blinding, golden arc as it cut through alien armour and flesh. His bellowed Litanies of Hate spurred those around him to greater effort, and the slaughter was magnificent to behold.

Space Marine Drop Pods.

Explosions and gunfire filled the air, the whine of pulse rounds and the chatter of bolter fire mingling in an all-consuming crescendo. Agemman and his Terminators smashed through the barricades protecting the makeshift entrance to the battery. An actinic pulse of blue light lit up the landscape as the guns fired, and Agemman knew they did not have much time. A trio of mechanised battlesuits, the elite warriors of the Tau, came into view, powerful weapons spitting bright bolts of death at his warriors. Brother Helion, the veteran of the Gabalas Crusade fell, his arm a bloody ruin, the flesh and armour fused into a molten mass. The doughty warrior picked himself up, as pain balms were dispensed from his armour. They would allow the veteran to carry on fighting despite the horrific wound.

"Jantine!" shouted Agemman.

"Assault cannon!"

Brother Jantine swung the multiple barrels of his weapon around, the whine of the motor cutting through the barks of gunfire and crump of explosions. Shells spat from the barrel of the assault cannon and kicked up great plumes of powdered rockcrete and alien blood, as hundreds of shells tore through the battlesuits in a matter of seconds. Shells continued to rip the alien warriors apart long after they were dead.

"Enough!" called Agemman. "To expend ammunition needlessly is wasteful. Assign yourself three days fasting for lax targeting rituals."

"Yes, Brother Captain," said Jantine, bowing his head. "It will not happen again."

Agemman accepted Jantine's contrition and said, "I know that, but let us push on. This battery is not going to destroy itself."

Agemman watched as the last of the charges detonated and the great barrels of the gun battery come crashing down. Flames leapt skyward and the noise of Imperial transports inbound for the liberated airfields was deafening. He and his warriors gathered in a circle to give thanks for their victory and to offer their prayers to the war spirits of their battle gear. The number of alien dead was unknown yet, though Agemman knew it would be high. They had left no survivors, and the site had been well-defended but not so well-defended that it could stand before the might of the Space Marines.

He finished the Litany of the Warrior and rose to his feet as Chaplain Clausel approached, the wings and skull of his crozius arcanum stained red with the blood of his foes. The two Space Marines shook hands in the warrior's grip, wrist-to-wrist.

"Your men fought with courage and honour," said Clausel.

"Aye, that they did. Your courage was an example to us all."

Clausel nodded, "In these difficult times, warriors need an example to follow."

Agemman nodded. As well as exhorting the Space Marines to greater and greater feats of courage, it was a Chaplain's sacred task to minister to the spiritual well-being of his company. The recent loss of the 4th Company's Captain and its senior Sergeant had inflicted a serious blow to its warriors' morale, and Clausel had spent many long days in prayer and fasting with them.

"Will you take prayer with my men?" asked Agemman, changing the subject.

"That I will, Captain Agemman," said Clausel. "I would offer them the Benediction of Battle."

"We would be honoured for you to speak it," nodded Agemman.

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