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Name: Thangor"s Beginning
Summary: Has to do with the 41st mallenia. The Space wolve chapter. Young Trangor and his brothers enbark on an adventure to save their kind.
Genre: SciFi
Rating: PG-13
Chapter One
The Hunt
The young wolf cub lingered by the fire as the cold wind swept across the frozen plain. He sat there wondering where the Snow Beasts were. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the crisp air rushing into his lungs. The wind carried the faint smell of the beasts. Knowing they were bedded down for the night he relaxed and stiffly got up. He walked slowly toward his two brothers who had drifted off earlier. Gently he lowered himself down and slid in to he hollowed out snow bank. With his brothers in a deep sleep, he to soon drifted off to the howling of the wind and the warmth of the shelter.
He woke up in total darkness, but with his implants and with superior eyesight it was only a dim cavern. The door of the cave was blocked by snow that had fallen in the night. He began to dig and as his hand broke through the snow a beam of light entered. They had over slept; he crawled back down and woke his brothers.
A sharp shove and a call of their names, “Ulf, Jager, wake up! We’ve overslept!”
“Trangor what’s the hurry,” said Ulf.
“Ulf, we must leave the storm had come,” said Trangor as he slid out of the bank.
“Then what are we waiting for?” called Jager as he followed Ulf out.
The new snow glinted in the sun like a thousand tiny diamonds. There was at least one foot of it that had fallen over night. The three of them gathered them selves and started checking their power armor, securing their chain swords, and loading their bolt pistols.
Ulf raised his head and sniffed the air the Snow Beasts scent was fading. He pointed north. The group set off at a run, the cool morning air rushed in to their lungs as they increased their pace. They talked as they went; boasting and betting on who would kill more of the foul beasts. Their gray armor was surprisingly warm due to the sun, but their breath still shown in the air in front of them. As the day went on the smell of the Snow Beasts increased.
“Nothing like a good hunt,” said Trangor in between his unlabored breaths.
“Yes, the smell of the Beasts is very close,” Ulf said.
Ten monstrous shapes appeared on the horizon as Jager scanned it. Any other Space Marine or Imperial Guardsman would not have detected them, but Jager’s eye did.
“Ulf, Trangor we’re closing the gap. When they stop we will rest and attack tonight,” said Jager.
“Good! We will finally get some action little brother Trangor,” laughed Ulf.
***
The ten monstrous shapes slowed down and disappeared beyond the sight of the cubs. Then they stopped and sat down resting for the attack that waited only hours away.
***
“We will camp here till dark,” said Jager.
The three of them sat servicing their weapons over and over knowing that they were ready for the job ahead of them. There was no wind and the air felt like a down quilt, pressing in on all sides. The wait was long and unbearable as the hours crept by. The moon slowly rose over the plains and to the west there was a forest, the dark green conifers shown only in the moonlight. The silver light given by the moon illuminated the blanketed white plain, it shown just like day in the eyes of the young Space Wolves.
“We’re ready,” said Jager.
The others nodded in agreement. They all got up and started toward where the Beasts had bedded down for the night. After twenty minuets of creeping toward them they were finally within four hundred meters they stopped.
“Communications check, can everyone hear me? Trangor take the left flank, Ulf take the right, I’ll take the center,” whispered Jager into his throat implant.
“Affirmative,” Ulf whispered back.
“Agreed,” said Trangor.
“Then let’s go!” growled Jager.
All three broke into a sprint, letting out war cries and howls. Their chain swords shrieking like banshees as they rushed toward the disoriented Beasts. The Beast roared back challenging them. As Trangor rushed toward the Beasts he saw Jager grab a frag grenade and fling it in to the middle of the Beasts, it bounced and landed at the feet of a beast and exploded with a mighty fireball. The beast fell smoldering, instantly dead. Trangor grasped his chain sword and leaped toward the closest one. He holed as he plunged the chain sword, grinding into the Beast’s chest, spraying his armor with blood. As the beast fell its convulsions yanked the sword from his grasp, he landed with a thump. Be for he knew it the next one was rushing him he raised his bolt pistol took aim and shot six times be for the beast dropped to the ground.
On the other side of the fray, Ulf had his hands full. He brought one down with his chain sword, but two more were on him. He let out a vicious a burst from his bolt pistol wounding one and routing the other.
Jager shot a massive beast in the head and charged the next one, but was too slow. The Beast swung his mighty arm and hit Jager directly in the chest plate of his power armor. He flew back five meters landing with a grunt. He lay there almost unconscious; breathing heavily he gasped in the throat implant, “I can’t do it myself, how need some help here?”
“Affirmative,” Ulf and Trangor said, simply.
The beast advanced on him and when it was about three meters from him two bolt pistol shots rang out from either side of him the beast came crashing down, landing with a sickening crunch. When they reached Jager the beasts were retreating toward the south back the way they came. “That’s unusual, they normally all fight to the death,” Trangor thought as he helped Jager up. He then walked over to the nearby carcass and ripped out his chain sword and cleaned it in the snow.
“What’s going on?” Ulf growled aloud.
“I don’t know,” said Jager. Jager looked on his power armor reading operating at seventy-nine percent. Damn Beast, he must have hit something important, I better have the Iron Priest look at this when we get back.
“Well we better start tracking them again,” Jager said.
“Then we better get going.” snarled Ulf.
Just then a foul smell caught all three of their senses. The putrid stench of a thousand dead bodies rolled over the wind. The smell of heretics overwhelmed them hatred boiled up from within.
“What are they doing here, deep in the imperium?” Trangor almost howled.
“I don’t know but we will find out if it costs our lives,” Ulf said with a hair rasping tone.
“Agreed,” Jager said in a calm but deadly voice.
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