Warhammer 40k Files: The Luna Wolves

The Last Stand of Saul Tarvitz

Serena Ottman, chief remembrancer of the 2nd Company of the Luna Wolves, stood at the door to the medbay, her pale cheeks flushed from running. She took a breath in, closed her green eyes, and steadied herself. Then, she entered. Instantly, she was hit by the stench of cleaning implements and medicine. She gagged and her red hair was thrown over her face. But she didn't throw up and ruin her new blue dress. She refused to. She carefully maneuvered through the sickening medbay until she got to the very back. The Astartes Apothercarion. She entered and found a large number of tables full, however, she was only looking for one. She found him quite quickly. On the table lay a Space Marine in a simple robe of royal purple. He turned his head to look at her and his blonde, shoulder-length hair shifted. Saul Tarvitz lay on a table, his body being slowly healed from his augmetic surgery. His new augmetic organs and cell-grown skin were a little strange to him, to say the very least. He was glad to see Serena though. She sat down beside his bed and looked at him for a minute before speaking.

"I'm here to ask you a few questions if you are able to." Tarvitz nodded. Serena continued, "I want to know what happened on the surface. None of the other Astartes I've interviewed saw as much as you. So, what happened?"

Tarvitz sighed. "We held. That is what happened. We held the line, unbent, unbroken. We made the traitors pay in blood for every inch they took. That is all I can really remember. Everything else is patchy."

Serena smiled, and lifted up her notes. "I can help fill in. I just want to know what happened with Fulgrim. So, let's begin."

It had all started about 13 solar hours earlier when they had made planetfall. Needing a place for the civilians of the formerly fortress world Death's Landing to live, Tarvitz and his Company had been sent to survey Istvann III as a possible home. The planet was empty and unwatched, having been written out of Imperial records. Tarvitz had agreed and brought his Company to the surface.

Tarvitz's company included his command cadre, 6 tactical squads, a bike and assault squad, 2 devastator squads, 2 terminator squads, a Sternguard veteran squad, and a Contemptor and Venerable dreadnought. He also had 4 Rhinos, 2 Razorbacks, a Land Raider Redeemer, a Thunderfire Cannon, and a Vindicator. He was prepared for a conflict, but not of the magnitude that would come.

They landed just short of the original landing zone from almost 7000 years earlier. Tarvitz stepped out of his Thunderhawk and arrayed his forces before giving the command to begin the march to the Precentor's Palace. It was the only place that Tarvitz thought might still be usable. As they crested the hill, he saw that the Palace still stood, despite the bombings and orbital bombardment. He quickly moved his forces inside. They had set for a pick-up the next day, assuming they could spend the night in the Palace. Of course, they were right, until the first daemon attacked.

It was early in the morning when it had come, appearing in the room where Tarvitz was sleeping. Thankfully, Astartes don't fully sleep, just disconnected. So, Tarvitz was on his feet in seconds. However, it was seconds too late. The Herald was already upon him. Its claw sliced at his chest, which he quickly pulled back. Tarvitz tried to land a hit on it, but it was useless. Without his armor or weapons, he couldn't keep up with it. He would need an opening. Right as he realized that, it gave him one. The Herald jumped at him and tried to cut at his head. Tarvitz, seeing an opening, lunged at the daemon. He ducked the claw but unfortunately missed the daemon with his lunge. The Herald laughed as it turned, all the way until the bolter shell entered its head and detonated. Tarvitz stood, bolter in hand, and began to pull on his armor. There are rituals for it, but he ignored them. Hearing the gunshot, his troops began to prepare for battle.

Tarvitz met his company command in the throne room of the Palace. Epistolary Delador Resh stood in front of the throne, his force staff pulsing with energy as he repeated Litanies of Psychic Protection. Chaplain Sorn Lyrin polished his crozius in the center of the room, preparing for the battle. Techmarine Zadoc Fabar wasn't present, but he never was before a fight. He had to prepare the machine spirits within the vehicles. Finally, standing to the side, were the Crooked Blades, Tavitz's command squad. They had taken the strange name to show that they rejected the Legion's old obsession with perfection. Among them, Apothecary Jorn Kalimeter and Ancient Feus Nikolore stood chatting. Both had their bolt pistol holstered, but already Feus held the Banner of the 2nd Company high. Standing in the very edge of the room was Thalosore Ravos, the champion. His power sword and combat shield were drawn, and he stood impatient waiting for the battle.