7. Wrath Rekindled
The sound of boots pounding the ground filled the night as the Grunt horde advanced. Their guttural war cries shook the air, echoing across the plains as they surged toward the Star Marine outpost. At the front, towering and defiant, strode Gorvak the Unyielding—his war axe freshly repaired, his wounds freshly stitched by the grim and grizzled hands of the Grunt Bone Doc. Thick metal staples held torn flesh together, and strange herbal poultices smoked faintly from beneath cracked armour plates.
He moved like a revenant, undeterred by pain, his presence enough to reignite the fury of his warriors. In his hands, the jagged axe glinted menacingly in the firelight, its edges now reinforced with sharpened scrap and psychic markings from the Grunt Psychic’s blessing.
Behind him, the Grunt Psychic stumbled forward, his staff glowing with unnatural energy. Sparks of psychic power danced around him, warping the air and leaving faint scorch marks on the ground. Gorvak turned his head slightly, his sharp voice cutting through the din. “Grunt Psychic, it’s time. Give them something to remember us by.”
The Grunt Psychic cackled, raising his staff high. He muttered incomprehensible phrases, his voice rising into a shriek as a surge of psychic energy erupted from his body. A jagged bolt of purple light shot into the sky, arcing toward the Star Marine outpost. It struck with a deafening crash, shattering one of the forward turrets and sending debris raining down on the Marines below.
The Grunts roared in approval, their pace quickening as they closed the distance. Gorvak raised his axe high, his voice booming over the chaos. “No mercy! Smash them! Break their walls and their bones!”
—-
Inside the Star Marine outpost, alarms blared, and tactical displays lit up with red markers as the Grunts poured toward their position. Kael stood at the centre of the command post, his plasma blade ignited and ready. “Velasquez”, he barked, “status.”
“Left turret’s down, Alpha”, Velasquez replied, her voice steady despite the chaos. “We’ve got Grunts coming in hard from the east. They’re bringing something big with them.”
Kael turned to the tactical display, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the situation. “Heavy gunners to the eastern wall. Keep them off our lines. Velasquez, take your squad to reinforce the left flank.”
“What about you?” Velasquez asked.
Kael didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to deal with Gorvak.”
The Grunts smashed into the outer defences with all the force of a tidal wave. Their sheer numbers and relentless aggression were overwhelming, but the Star Marines held their ground. Plasma rifles fired in unison, cutting through the horde with deadly precision. Explosions lit up the battlefield as grenades and heavy turrets ripped into the advancing ranks.
Gorvak waded through the carnage, his axe swinging in wide arcs that sent Marines flying. His roar carried above the battle, a guttural challenge to anyone brave enough to face him. Around him, the Grunts fought with savage ferocity, their crude weapons smashing into Star Marine armour.
Near the eastern wall, the Grunt Psychic unleashed another blast of psychic energy, the purple lightning searing through barricades and scattering defenders. A squad of Marines turned their fire on him, but the Grunt Psychic’s power twisted their plasma bolts mid-air, sending them spiralling harmlessly into the ground.
“More! More!” the Grunt Psychic shrieked, his eyes glowing with manic energy.
Kael moved through the chaos with lethal efficiency, his plasma blade carving a path through the Grunt ranks. His armour was battered and scorched, but he pressed forward, his focus unshakable. The battlefield was a maelstrom of noise and violence, but Kael’s mind was calm, calculating. He had faced the Grunts before, and he knew that breaking their leader would break their momentum.
He spotted Gorvak near the shattered remains of a barricade, the warlord’s axe raised high as he brought it down on a Marine. Kael sprinted toward him, his blade humming with power. “Gorvak!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the din.
The Grunt leader turned, his tusked grin widening as he saw Kael. “Marine!” he bellowed. “Come to die, have you?”
Kael didn’t respond. He closed the distance in a blur of motion, his blade swinging toward Gorvak’s side. The Grunt leader blocked the strike with his axe, the clash of weapons sending sparks flying. Gorvak countered with a powerful swing, but Kael ducked under the blow, his blade slashing across Gorvak’s armour.
Gorvak roared in pain, but his grin never faltered. “Good!” he growled. “You’ve got fight in you. Let’s see how long it lasts!”
The two leaders clashed again and again, their blows shaking the ground as the battle raged around them. Marines and Grunts all around them fought on, often their smaller fights mimicking and reflecting the titanic duel taking place between the leaders.
Meanwhile, Velasquez and her squad fought to hold the left flank. The Grunts had breached part of the wall, and the Marines were fighting in close quarters, their rifles replaced by combat blades and pistols. Velasquez moved with precision, her blade cutting through Grunt after Grunt as she shouted orders to her squad.
“Hold the line!” she barked, her voice sharp and unwavering. “Push them back!”
A hulking Grunt charged toward her, its massive club raised to strike. Velasquez sidestepped the blow, her blade driving into the creature’s side. It collapsed with a guttural snarl, and Velasquez turned to the next threat without hesitation.
Back near the centre of the battlefield, the Grunt Psychic’s powers began to spiral out of control. His staff crackled with purple lightning, the energy lashing out in random directions. Grunts and Marines alike were caught in the blasts, their bodies hurled through the air. The Grunt Psychic cackled madly, his eyes glowing brighter with each surge of power.
Kael saw the destruction from the corner of his eye and activated his comms.
“Velasquez, deal with the Grunt Psychic. Now.”
“Understood”, Velasquez replied. She signalled to her squad, and they moved toward the psychic threat with practised efficiency. Plasma fire rained down on the Grunt Psychic, forcing him to stumble back. Velasquez closed the distance, her blade slicing through the Grunts protecting him. With a final strike, she drove her weapon into the Grunt Psychic’s chest, silencing his mad laughter.
Gorvak saw the Grunt Psychic fall and snarled, his rage boiling over. He swung his axe with renewed fury, forcing Kael back. “You think you’ve won?” he roared. “This isn’t over! It’s never over.”
Kael parried the next blow and countered with a strike that carved into Gorvak’s shoulder.
The Grunt leader took a deep step backwards and let the army swallow up and increase the distance between him and Kael but didn’t fall. He glared through the throng at Kael, his tusked grin returning.
“Next time, Marine”, he growled, stepping back. “Next time, I’ll bury you.” As he waded through supporting the grunt army.
With a roar, Gorvak signalled the retreat. The Grunts began to fall back, their war cries fading into the distance as they disappeared into the night.
The battlefield was silent except for the crackle of fires and the groans of the wounded. Kael stood at the centre of the outpost, his blade extinguished but still in hand. Around him, the Marines regrouped, their expressions weary but determined.
Velasquez approached, her armour scorched and dented. “We held, Alpha”, she said simply.
“For now”, Kael replied, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “But Gorvak will be back again and again. Who knows what he will return with next.”
The outpost was battered but intact, a testament to the Star Marines’ resolve. Yet Kael knew the battle was far from over. The Grunts had tasted blood, and they would return. And when they did, Kael would be ready.