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This is my first time writing a fiction piece on this forum, it shall be in several small parts and this is mostly for fun, but of course constructive advice is welcome!

"I never liked Gulliman and his sycophants!" roared brother Poxis across the tactical squad's vox channel. "Blue and true!" he sneered. The battle raged through narrow corridors which rose up to the heavens themselves. The Ultramarine on the far side of the scarred corridor hefted his bolter around the corner and discharged several shots at Poxis' head, a thunderous clang rang out as a molten round ricocheted off of Poxis' helmet, greatly mangling the side and all but ruining the tactical display within. "Maybe a well placed shot to the skull will make you follow orders Poxis! Radio silence in effect, bar my orders!" yelled Sergeant Septis.

The battle for the spaceport of Loqash had been raging for only a few hours, and little to no progress had been made by either loyalist or traitor. The thin corridors had been the undoing of many strategies and plans, the forces of the Warmaster may have been able to land their crafts, but the architecture ensured that they went no further. Loqash was too important for either side to even consider losing, its position vital to the plans of generals and the Reaper alike, too important to just wipe away from orbit, so a war of attrition was naturally the only viable solution. The thick corridors inside the spaceport were ornate to say the least; brass Aquilas and golden scrolls adorned every wall in passageways which were already intricate. These hand-crafted decorations occupied every wall and inlet of the halls and stairwells, glorious, but impractical.

Sergeant Septis, leader of the 20th heavy support squad, had been tasked by Siege Breaker Anthrax to support the advance of the 8th tactical squad. That squad was gone now, except Poxis, and any signs of an advance further into Loqash seemed non-existent. However, Septis was not the one to leave just when a good fight was beginning. He was part of the Legiones Astartes after all, and the XIV Legion had always suited him well. "You may not be part of my squad, Poxis, but as part of the Death Guard I damn well demand your utter dedication to me and the objective at hand!" Poxis did not spout a witty retort to this command and lowered his head back behind the barrier he was crouched behind. Septis had also been blessed with an eidetic memory, so the marine that had shot at Poxis had now given away his location to him, Septis could remember the location of every foe and their positions down the corridor, and the faces of every marine he had ever slaughtered.

A tremor shook down the corridor and a monumental eagle fell from the sky, somewhere from the concealed ceiling above. It tore through the ceremite ground with a dying screech that pierced the ears of even Septis. The remains of the once flying bird now obscured the way between the Death Guard and the Ultramarines, Septis peered around the corner of the wall he was positioned behind, the cerulean figures that had been shooting at him were hidden behind the wreckage. Septis quickly grabbed a krak grenade from his hip and primed it... if he could hit the Ultramarines before they moved away from their previous positions... Septis threw the grenade over the eagle's remains at where the Ultramarines had been before. A clatter, the crack of the implosion reached his ears, only time would tell if his grenade had hit its mark. He turned and took account of casualties and ammo count,
"20th squad, 6 marines remaining, excluding myself, each with 8 missiles on average, four krak, four frag, Poxis from the 8th, no major wounds...shame, his helmet is out of action though, I have 15 missiles left, bolter shots to the left vambrace, no sustained injuries." Septis knew that it would only be a matter of one or two minutes before the Ultramrines launched an organised counter-attack. "Delta formation! Aim ten degrees above the peak of the rubble! Krak missiles! Poxis, aim for their legs and arms! They shall go no further..."

The 20th squad formed up, like clockwork, into a tight triangle behind any reasonably sized chuck of cover that they could fit behind. Poxis remained quietly still behind the bullet torn barrier placed there by the previously defending Imperial Militia, the eagle had fallen about ten metres in front of him, and had crushed a marine from Septis' squad. "We are sons of Barbarus!" Septis declared, "We shall not give the loyalists one inch!" It was then that the first volley of grenades flew their way over the wreckage, krak grenades, eight in total, each Ultramarine had thrown one. Septis tensed and lowered his missile launcher slightly as to shield it from harm. The devastating whump of eight krak grenades detonating at once shook the long hallway and dislodged more rubble from the ceiling and walls. Poxis lost his footing and was knocked backwards by the impact of the barrier hitting him. Septis was thrown further back in the alcove in the wall, the left side of his body receiving most of the impact. Collecting himself quickly, Septis stood back up and checked the status of his squad. "One marine down, the others shaken." he observed the pulpy, disfigured remains of some marine, the impact of three grenades had been focused into his torso and head, his Mk IV armour shattered into minute fragments, he had no time for sympathy, although it was a shame that his missile launcher had been destroyed with him...

"Gather yourselves! The plan remains unchanged!" However, just as Septis had rallied the squad, the second volley of grenades flew over towards them, six frag grenades, Septis heard Poxis whisper, "typical..." over the vox channel as the frag grenades detonated. Although lethal, the frags were no where near as brutally strong as the krak grenades. Septis hear the sound of choked gurgling over his vox channel; he spun around to find that another one of his marines had been felled by the loyalists, a piece of burnt shrapnel had pierced his neck and the marine's blood spurted forth, and down his chest plate. He slumped to the ground and fell silent. "Poxis! The missile launcher!" Poxis holstered his bolter and scurried up the corridor to the fallen marine; Poxis had only just prized the missile launcher from the corpse when the Ultramarines finally charged.

The first two marines over the fallen eagle wielded bolt pistols and combat knives, some part of some pre-planned tactical doctrine no doubt. "Fire now!" Septis roared as he aimed for the Ultramarine's centre of mass. Two krak missiles tore through the dense air. One trailed off into the smoky distance of the corridor, hitting the right wall way past the combat zone; the second missile hit an Ultramarine and tore his head and upper torso clean off, his flailing body releasing the pistol and knife and dropping with a solid thud directly in front of Poxis. The second marine fell upon Poxis with true fury, knife gleaming. Poxis had no time to unsheathe his own blade and the missile launcher was thrown form his grip. Septis grabbed his bolt pistol and aimed for the head of the Ultramarine, but he realised that the main bulk of the attack would soon follow and left Poxis to fend for himself, dropping his bolt pistol. "Four more loyalists!" Four more cerulean marines along with their white helmed sergeant darted over the wings of the rubble, bolters in hand, they unleashed a sharp volley of bolter rounds down towards the heavy support squad. "Equip frag missiles! Fire at will!" Septis kept his own missile launcher loaded with krak missiles as he aimed at the exposed neck of the Ultramarine sergeant.

The battle had truly begun now, as the remaining two Ultramarines ran over and took position on top of the rubble pile, raining rounds down at every available opening. The loyalists had a secured beachhead, all of the loyalists were past the rubble and some advancing still. Three missiles shot off in unison, the two frag missiles hitting the rubble and throwing one of the Ultramarines on top back over the edge. The krak missile soared into the path of the loyalist sergeant, severing his legs from his body in a gory spiral as his body flew past Septis and slid to a halt a few metres back.
Poxis still remained intertwined with the battle scratched loyalist, both angled on the rising rubble, the Ultramarine above him. His hands grasping the wrists of the loyalist, restraining the blade aimed at his bare, gaunt face, and the bolt pistol bent towards his side. Poxis stared with teeth bared into the crimson slits of the marine's Mk III armour, which glared back into him with an unbridled fury. Poxis and his foe both knew that they would be receiving no support, a lone duel between the XIII and XIV Legions. Poxis swivelled around and kicked the shin of the loyalist with his right foot, shifting them both off balance and backwards across the scorched floor. Poxis got back up and sprinted back towards the loyalist who was still sprawled across the floor, the blade had flown out of his grip and it lay between them. Poxis snatched the blade and kicked the head of the loyalist, the force of the blow spinning the marine around so that he faced upwards. Poxis lept onto the Ultramarine and shoved the gleaming blade straight through the front his helmet. Sanguine blood spitted onto Poxis' face as he felt the loyalist twitch violently, before slowly relinquishing his grip on his pistol and falling limp.

Septis loaded a frag missile and shot it at a golden angel mounted on the wall opposite him. The seraphim fell in many pieces and crushed the life out of the two loyalists crouched underneath it. The loyalists had lost their advantage, the three remaining Ultramarines began to pull back, without their sergeant and superiority in numbers, the loyalists limped back over the fallen eagle, but not before taking a few pot shots at Poxis, who still remained out in the open. One bolter round caught him on the right side of his face, and staggered him, his dark blood trailing down his bone coloured armour.
"You cowards! At least finish killing me!" the taunt echoed down the passageway after the heels of the loyalists. Just as Poxis ran for the rubble, Septis dragged him back forcefully. "The battle is over Poxis!" he snarled as he threw him back into line. "We regroup and then we advance." Septis turned to the torn remains of the Ultramarine sergeant and knelt down beside him, drawing his blade and grabbing his limp hand. "The spoils of battle go to the righteous victor..." mumbled Septis to himself as his blade pierced armour and flesh alike. Poxis watched in quiet distain as Septis severed the hand from its wrist in a faint trickle of blood. Septis rose to his feet and chained the hand to his waist. A sombre trophy.