Stuff

Hapexion followed him, barely bothering to slow his fall as he crashed feet first into a groundcar that had just been coming through the yard’s rear gate. The car’s body crumpled in around him, almost smashed in two, and Hapexion fanned his hand flamer around the wreck before he kicked his way clear of it. The fuel went up around him as he tore his way out of the blaze.
The depot’s rear door was too small for an armoured Adeptus Astartes, and Kreios had to waste a couple of seconds smashing the frame wider with shoulders and elbows before he stepped through. Stub-rounds spanged off his chest and faceplate. He took a couple of strides into the space beyond, a set of corrals made from flakboard partitions, a central broad table scratched and scrawled with crude maps and dispatch slips.
	Somewhere a vox-unit was crackling and squealing with interference from the energy discharges closer to the lines. With a quick blink signal his helmet took an image of it, then Kreios shredded table, papers and bodies alike with bolt-shells.
It took the two of them less than ninety seconds to plough through the command post, leaving the whole space ablaze from wall to wall as they tore the front curtain-doors open and broke out into daylight.
 In the next street a booming shockwave threw smoke and fragments high into the air and they ignited their packs in unison, hurtling up and out of the smoke and towards the source of the blast.
	They landed among a gaggle of enemy who were milling, shouting and firing shots at a ball of black smoke and dirty yellow flame that had been an AT-70 battle tank a moment earlier. Kandax came roaring out of that smoke in a flat trajectory barely above head height, rolling in the air to catch the nearest two enemy with a single sweeping melta shot. Both burst in mid-stride as their body fluids explosively vaporized from the heat. Their panicked companions redoubled their fire at Kandax, and by the time the arrival of more Space Marines behind them had penetrated their adrenaline-fueled tunnel vision it was too late. Six seconds, and the Iron Snakes were alone in the street.

Urdesh: The Magister and the Martyr