W40K In Service to the Imperium: Episode 5 (IC/CLOSED)

[The Empire of Pretantia]

Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius, Motor Pool
Shortly before
Enginseer Koder

Koder's mechadendrites retracted suddenly, both in his surprise and in shock. The sound of cannon fire was not a good one to hear so nearby, especially since it sounded less like a cannon and more like an unloaded shell suffering a nervous breakdown. But Koder was not the only one thinking such; by the time he reached the source of the explosion guardsmen had already gathered around the site, they too investigating the incident. Koder pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, his small hunched frame unnoticed until he was nudging between the men. The crowd at first seemed so eager over where the shell merely came from, as opposed to where the shot landed as people usually think. However, this proved not to be the case, as Koder pushed to discover the mass was not around a shell or a black stain, but a body. A commissar's body.

"Oh dear,"He muttered, looking off to where he perceived the shell went. Off in that direction was a munitions reserve. "Oh dear" indeed.

"Oh dear,"Koder made his way back out of the crowd, headed towards the fresh crater where no crater should be, although Koder was not sure why he would investigate there when no other damage was done. Fortunately the shell had not flown for a few paces more, else the entire base would be wiped off the planet, but what had not come to pass was of no importance. Koder had other issues, what with the ever-growing number of guardsmen gathering around the body, a commissar or officer undoubtably among them...

---

Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius, Motor Pool
Captain Kar Hawken

"Koder!"Captain Kar Hawken snuck up from behind. Koder jumped at his name, stuttering to answer as he turned to face Hawken.

"C-C-Captain!"He spat out at last,"I d-didn't expect you!"

"You didn't expect an accidental discharge either, ay?"He bopped Koder in the head,"So what's with the crowd then? Are we short a tank now?"

"Well... Uh... You see... There was a boom... And I was over there... And I ran... And-and-and... Dead commissar."

"Pardon?"

"Well... Commissar Palor..."

"Oh, for the God-Emperor's love!"

Hawken turned about and sped off to see the mess for himself, Lieutenant Muro and Koder trailing behind. Hawken pushed his way through the crowd, muttering incoherently about munitions storage.

"It's simple: stuff the charges in a corner and everything will be dandy, no worries about a stray spark. Then place all the bolter munitions in a battered old shed, and let sit in blistering heat and eighty-percent humidity for eight-"

Having cleared the crowd, Hawken could see what was left of the poor Commissar Palor, a fresh carcass with a hole the size of a small child in the torso. Hawken stood stunned, speechless of the commissar's demise. However, he could honestly care less about the headstrong fool; it was simply the surprise of seeing everyone's favorite commissar lying cold on the ground that struck the captain.

Strange, how terrible Palor's luck was to stand in front of a shell the moment it discharged, like the God-Emperor wanted him to die. However, he assuredly would not waste his breath on a single ba commissar, else everyone commissar would be fit for the Death Korps. It was too obvious that someone had plotted the murder of Commissar Palor, but the question is who? They were certainly from Hawken's company; why else would they desire Palor's death?

"Lieutenant Muro,"He gestured to the lieutenant,"muster the company immediately. I will have this mystery solved by morning."

As Muro bowed and departed to the Morgoth section, Hawken snapped to the guardsmen already present.

"Alright, you turtles!"He gestured them to rush,"Front and center, on the double! Get in formation, I have quite a few questions for you lot. There's much reason to suspect the tankers, and none of you are above scrutiny, so I suggest making this quick and easy for you before you all get executed, savvy?"

"Sir, yes sir!"They answered, falling into five ranks by ten. Now to get to the root of this, hopefully before the Junior Commissar Marco arrived...

[Saragrossa]

Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius
8th Company - The " Iron Ladies " - 1st Mordian Heavy Infantry

---

A loud explosion erupted from what seemed like outside the barracks or very near to it. The explosion's deafening roar sent shock-waves through out the barracks and almost immediately Lieutenant Agustina sprung into action. Not knowing what was the cause of the explosion but determined to make sure that her unit was combat effective she ordered her command platoon to full readiness while the rest of her company rushed to their lockers and quickly put on the remainder of their armor. The ladies were doing post-recreational drilling and doing gun and movement drills, specifically rank, file and fire to stimulate a holding position and the ladies were half equipped with their carapace armor and marching with fully armed and operational hell guns and hot las guns.

They quickly in almost perfect unison rushed to their lockers and put on the remaining pieces of armor ( mostly the upper body armor ) and they grabbed their full combat bags. The ladies quickly stuffed cartridges of las munitions into their bags and grabbed their side arms and their guns and formed up into perfect ranks with each squad's sergeante calling out their readiness to serve.

Agustina then grabbed her sabre and placed it on her hip before grabbing her hell pistol and hellgun and ordered her company to follow behind her.

---

The Mordian women marched in perfect unison with their shinny boots smashing against the concrete floor in single timely matter. It seemed the ladies belonged to a military show parade but they were already focused and seriously. They had their arms locked and loaded and at full arms as they marched down the barracks towards where the explosion erupted. The ladies were worn their bright uniforms but their facial expressions showed a strong brutality almost to them. They seemed fearless and focused on following their commanding officer who was equally intimidating.

She bandished her sabre in her left hand while she pressed the barrel of her hellgun on her shoulder in reminiscence of the age old action flick heros on terra. She wanted to know what was going on. Her ladies marched exactly 10 paces behind her, forming an entourage behind her as she marched quickly to the scene of the explosion.

She approached the mob of soldiers and officers around what seemed to be a scene of a crime as the chamber was now filled with over 348 Mordian soldiers in full battle armor. Agustina called called out to one

Agustina saw a familiar face at the scene and called out to one of the segmentian officers;

" Lieutenant Sinnett. Hello. What is going on? Whats the matter with the explosion and the wounded? " Lieutenant Agustina Ceasre didn't salute the officer since they were of same rank but it also due to Mordian nature to never salute to give off perhaps the identifications of the officers within a unit. She greeted her with a simple hello which would suffice she believed. She spoke however in a calm, gentler voice then her usual strong and bold tone which she took for her unit.

She had met the Lieutenant only once prior and they seemed to have okay relations. They didn't talk too much but she had a respect for her since she knew first hand how difficult it is for a woman to be a career office in the male dominated Imperial Guard.

[Segmentia]

Fort Macharius
Main Admin building, 1st Company, 557th Segmentian Regiment

The main administration building for the 557th Regiment had been furnished in proper Segmentian fashion since the Segmentians’ had been stationed there a little over a month ago. Fine crafted and finished wooden furniture, most with cushioning covered in red cloth, held in place with brass-tacks. On the floor in the main lobby was a finely made and well preserved rug, the regimental crest proudly displayed, and with two sergeants standing vigil on either side ready to yell at anyone who dared to step on it. On the far wall were three flag stands, one up right, the other two crossed in front of it. The upright flat was that of the Imperium, with the crossed flag closest to it being that of Segmentia, as if standing guard before the Imperium, and then a regimental flag, as if standing guard before Segmentia. It was all very ceremonial and traditional. Down the main hallways stood paintings of historic events, and individuals from Segmentia.

On the third floor was the office of Colonel Asilis Victoria. It was a rather large office. Right in the center in a fine wooden stand was a bronze statue, a fallen Segmentian solider, helmet over his face and his rifle lying beside him, the stock lying on his thigh. Behind him stood a large bronze eagle, its wings half folded around the dead solider. On the right wall was a line of book cases full of books, mostly historical and military books. The left wall was blank, except for anther tri-collection of flags, Imperium, Segmentian, and regimental. On the far side of the room were windows, and a large desk, where the colonel was seated behind, flipping through a pile of papers. Asilis was tall, common for Segmentian women. She had sharp features with green eyes, and short brown hair. Currently dressed in her Class-B uniform, a tan shirt and tie, her olive drag coat hanging on a coat rack to her left. She had been up since 0330 local time, but it didn’t show a bit, the benefits of military life and a military upbringing. She had been reading over various reports of the companies now under her command. Some of them seemed to have been thrown together in fold regiments before, notably under the command of a Cadian, Colonel Arktheleon Lividivus, now a general in command of several Cadian regiments.

“Well if they survived under the command of a Cadian, I suppose they are good enough.” Asilis mused, though that was only for the companies that had served with the Cadian. There were several notes logged in the file under Lividivus’ name, most of them speaking highly of the Higarans’ and Thermidorians. That was good, seeing as how the regimental commissar was now some Higaran. She didn’t much like the idea of commissars from a certain world serving with the forces from the same world, as it could easily breed doubt, and a favorable bias. But she would trust what the notes said, and if Captain-Commissar Amsel turned out to not be up to the task, Emperor knew there were plenty of other commissars about to keep him in-line. Asilis leaned back and sighed, just as the soft foot-steps of the company, and thus regimental First Sergeant, could be heard. Asilis could almost feel the rather short woman walk into her office, the smell of a fresh cup of tea cutting through the slightly stale smell that seemed to hang around in just about every military facility Asilis had even been to.

“Just in time, First Sergeant.” Asilis said, opening her eyes and allowing a slight smile. The First Sergeant was a short woman, tanned skin due to years of farming life, and then years of front line service. Amelia, the Regimental First Sergeant, just nodded and walked into the office, setting the cup of tea and tea-plate down. “I’ve ordered a small store of our tea rations put to the side for you, ma’am. Just in case some of our new…friends should be cultured enough to par-take.” Amelia said, nodding her head and standing off to the right of the desk, her las-pistol and sword clasped on her belt. Asilis gently picked up the cup and took a sip before setting it back down. “So, thoughts on our new friends?” She asked, swiveling her chair to look at the First Sergeant, who frowned a bit.

“They seem a…competent lot, ma’am. “ Amelia said. Asilis grinned. “But…?” She said, raising an eye brow, knowing she had more to say. “They aren’t Segmentian, ma’am.” Amelia finally said. Asilis nodded. It might have been rude, but no doubt they were all thinking the same thing of each other. No one wanted to serve in a regiment from another world, let along one pulled from several different worlds. And Segmentians’ had been let down by foreigners before. “We shall reserve judgment, I suppose. Though, we could do with less commissars’ running about.” Asilis chuckled. She didn’t mind commissars at all, in fact she had served with plenty of rather decent ones in her years, but each company basically had their own now, and all could oversee the entire regiment, but that is what the Emperor willed, it seemed.

Just as she was about to continue a rumble shook the windows of the Admin building, and Asilis’ tea cup. The colonel blinked, Amelia already having las-pistol and sword in her hands. “That sounded like a demolisher cannon shell going off.” Asilis noted, standing up. She reached for her jacket, slipping it on. “And as there isn’t any other weapons fire, I’m thinking an idiot of few mishandled a shell.” She said, buttoning the jacket up. “Let us go see then.” She said, walking to the door. Amelia followed, holstering the weapons she had, but picking up a Segmentian issue las-rifle on the way down the hall, several other Guardsmen forming up.

The Segmentian las-rifle was a rather heavy hitting weapon, though it was bolt-action, rather than semi or fully automatic. It was a severe disadvantage, but Segmentians tended to have better accuracy then most others, and with the more powerful charge things evened out. The small entourage of Segmentians, about a platoons worth, made their way to a large gathering of guardsmen, and guardswomen, the various uniforms evident. The lead soldiers shoved their way through the crowed. They finally reached the center, and Asilis stepped forward. “So, which incompetent idiots are getting in trouble today, hm?”

[Aelosia]

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius
Thermidorian Quarters
Adeptus Munitorum Office
3th Company, 557th Segmentian

Bellona Bellatrix

Realizing he was in the correct place, Sgt. Bryant took on a somewhat more confident attitude. He covered the distance between himself and Bellona's desk in a couple strides. He seemed unaffected by the sarcastic reply; the product being the company's steward, the man almost inevitably sent to take supplies out of munitorum representatives.

"Food, ammunition, a Baneblade, the usual." He quipped as he put the small stack of binder-clipped papers on her desk, somewhere that resembled an 'in' box. "Just a stack Munitorum Forms D-17-03; signed by the quartermaster and the company's commanding officer."

He was turning to leave again when the building was rocked with the detonation of a battle cannon round somewhere in the complex. True to his training, Bryant dove behind the limited cover provided by Bellona's desk and pushed his mask onto his face. "What the hell was that?" he asked rhetorically.

The Adepta watched as the man took several confident strides towards her desk, in the typical officer in need attitude. She was used to the type and the demands that came from them, so she didn't even flinch or changed her bored, tired attitude. If the man was going to play the officer, she was going to play the clerk as well as she could, and that she could play very well.

"Food, ammunition, a Baneblade, the usual.", he issued, and added another folder to the growing little hill of those that was growing atop her desk. He was not the first to do so, and she was quite behind most petitions given the situation with the Thermidorian excessive ammunition and fuel stockpile. She arched an eyebrow as if not understanding the joke, or as the clerk who has listened to the same jokes one hundred times.

At least it was a normal petition. She fumbled with the idea of sending the man back and telling him that he would recall when the batch was ready, but maybe it was easier to deal with it before it stockpiled atop everything. A D-17-03 Munitorum form was an easy one. Recharged cells, auto-cannon rounds and standard gruel rations. Field food. She checked the last numbers written in the forms, to check if the demands from the Armaggeddonian company were not too out of hand. Everything seemed in order so far.

She introduced the data from the form into her cogi-slate, to keep the record, and swiftly, from the quickness that comes from custom, she stamped three times the document with three different rubber seals, added a drop of green wax and eletroo-sealed it with her cauterizing holo-seal.

"Multilaser and personal cells recharge must be done with the recharging cables alongside the reactor on the munitions pit. Your company is labeled as of Category D, Cellerarius, and that means you are able to carry all supplies you need", said the Adeptus using the Imperial term for the Company's steward, without looking at the man from Armageddon to his face. "You are listed with carry vehicles, so you will have to carry them to the pit, and there you can plug them to the charger. This paper gives you the authority to do so, but you must be present during the process. You will find a technical operator forced to help you. You will find there the rest of the supplies you asked for. The Baneblade, however, is impossible to get given the current planetary situation", she added on purpose, as if she was some cog-girl who couldn't understand jokes at all.

She extended the sealed form back to the Sergeant with a stern face. Luckily he got the message already and would leave her to her work. Then the booming sound made the walls tremble and forced some plaster dust to fall from the deteriorated ceiling. "What the hell was that?", he asked, in a rhetorical tone, as he turned around to look at the woman sitting on the desk. She was too scared to flinch or move at all, and hoped the man took her lack of reaction as another symptom of her cold attitude.

Bellona recovered quickly, resuming her stacking of papers as if nothing had happened. "That's the sound of an artillery or a tank round", she spoke with the voice of experience, in the coldest tone she could muster. "Could mean the soldier games had started, and that you might be required at your barracks, to kill and die, Sergeant. May the Emperor protect you", she said as a form of dismissing the NCO, while she brushed the fallen dust from her desk.

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius.
Regimental Motorpool
3th Company, 557th Segmentian

Yuri Nonsilva

Yuri was not happy at all. She had been half a second from getting shot by a Commissar. Twice. First, when she aimed her gun at Amsel, he could had reacted while imploding her chest from inside out right then right there. He was in his right and with the power of doing so. It was impressive how the man had reached for his bulky weapon and placed it in position to fire, not giving Yuri even the time to realize how close she was to die in a splash of gore. Even after the first second, not counting his instinctive reaction, he could had executed her in the spot for aiming a deadly weapon against not just an officer, but a Commissar! Not even a Commissar, but a Captain-Commissar! However, Amsel didn't seem to mind any punishment. He had just asked her to follow him after the awkward moment of their Nejikan standoff. He said that she shouldn't worry about the detonations, but that was not why she was worried, but because of the company alarm that kept alerting her through her ear bead in a loop. If the Major was calling to arms, it wasn't because some maneuvers. There was a specific channel for maneuvers and the silent vibration Morzeh call was not it. It was the emergency call. The call to arms.

She wondered there, 5 minutes ago, which call she should follow. The direct orders from the Commissar to join him, or the call from her superior officer to gather her squad and establish a perimeter? She had to take a decision in a rather short amount of seconds, and went for what she thought it was way more logical. The Commissar had regimental authority, and the Major only Company authority. Also, there was the fact that she had already made a mistake regarding Amsel, and it was not a moment to try his patience. She followed Amsel to the Motor Pool, following the explosion that had shaken the entire regiment's base. If he said there was no emergency, then better believe him than the Major. He would know otherwise, right?

As they reached the Motorpool they met some cute boy who was in a Commissar's costume, as young as Yuri herself, but that did not seem to have seen as much as the private had. The officers talked about something that Yuri missed while she was focusing in the crater and the scorched mark the round had left near the buildings. She reacted when she heard the young one say "one casualty", holding a Commissar's saucer cap. Yuri openly sighed when the man showed the piece of wardrobe. This was Commissar's day. Now another Commissar, and this time a dead one. Well dead, for sure, given what was remaining of the Imperial sycophant.

The young officer said that the officer had tripped the shell somehow, but as Amsel had said, the possibilities of that happening were non-existent, as Yuri knew from basic gunner training, although she was an assault trooper. Those duds did not go off unless you wanted to, or when they cooked. Either the Commissar was the unluckiest man on the Segmentum, or someone had somehow detonated it on purpose. Some people would have had found the show revolting, but the assorted pieces were so few that there was not much to see, and Yuri was familiar with the results of artillery bombing. First hand. Was he fragged? Good riddance, then. I'd frag mine should I had the chance, too, Yuri told herself.

Soon she saw how the Lieutenant Sinnett arrived to the place in company of many more guardsmen from different companies. Let's see how handles this, the cold bitch, told Yuri to herself as she tried to hide from the field of view of her superior officer. Sinnett was a known jail sender and punisher by the Thermidorians, and Yuri had dodged enough jail for one day already as to try her luck with the Ammorobot, as the rest of the platoons known Sinnett. If the Thermidorian Company was a family, Sinnett was the weird single aunt that pulled everyone's ears on the slightest provocation.

Then Amsel turned to her and asked to fetch a Medicae. That she could do. She wondered about giving him a final warning about the Company summon that was still ringing in her ear, (and would continue to do so until she reported back to her Chimera), but given the situation at hand, she decided to leave it to Sinnett. After all, superior officers had a use after all. She quickly saluted and went off double time to alert the chirusurgeon-in-chief in the thermidorian barracks. No need to speed things up by commbead. She wanted to stay out of this mess as fast as possible.

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius.
Regimental Motorpool
3th Company, 557th Segmentian

Elizabeth Sinnett

The Lieutenant reached the spot of the detonation while the Company Summons still ringed in her ear. Not now, she thought, not until everything is in place. If they were under attack, and this was the first shell fallen into the base, then she should had sent a scout. But one detonation by itself? No barrage afterwards? It seemed strange, plus the enemy would had to circumvent the entire defensive network of the base. Yet Sinnett had encountered such enemy before, like the raiders. The foul raiders. The Painbringers.

She took her mind out of those dark silhouettes coming out of nowhere and focused on reading what was in front of her. She was caught on it by a urdeshi coghand, one of the mechanicum troopers detached nearby. One of the guys she had instructed to avoid, more precisely. The guy was polite and detached, as he was supposed to be, and in his salute there was a implied tone of respect for the thermidorian abilities. It was going to be that kind of exchange then. After all, it was a relief to know that the detonation came from inside the base, and not the start of a bombardment.

"No idea", answered Sinnett to the question posed by the urdeshi. "Good to know it came from the inside. Bad for him when we find out, yet", she told the urdeshi, while she kneeled to examine the mark left by the explosion. "Tank munition by the look of it", she added, as if looking for the urdeshi's confirmation. After all the differences between their methods, Sinnett was sure the man was able around his trade. Mechanicum usually were, when they were not praying to bolts and oil. "I did not heard the sizzle of the round through the air after barrel exit, however. This round exploded, it was not fired".

While she was examining the marks, Commissar Amsel arrived and started to issue questions to one subordinate of his. Then the officer turned to her and the urdeshi and asked if they knew anything about what happened. "No", answered Sinnett briefly. "I came to survey the area as the explosion happened during a sensitive operation of the platoon under my charge. My company commander is issuing a moderate to high level alert through the comm right after the detonation, as expected during an impending attack. I thought both were related". The woman did not seem to be affected or nervous or angry about anything that happened at all.

After she explained that to Captain-Commissar Amsel, a Mordian came right next to her trying to extract an explanation from Sinnett. As most of the thermidorians, especially inside the officer's cadre, there was a high level of respect towards the mordians, who once were classified by a Lord General as the best troops to be deployed alongside thermidorians forces. Mordians and Thermidorians shared some traits, and the mordians placed the grim determination to the thermidorians tactical flexibility. She was looking for explanations that Sinnett lacked, however, so the Lieutenant opted to be succint. "I have no idea. A round went off somehow, but I guess we need to wait until Commissar Amsel's investigation into the matter bears some fruit". She was puzzled about the repeating call to arms from her command section, however. "Lieutenant Ceasre", added Sinnett after a brief pondering. "You have ladies around the perimeter when you were exercising. Are you sure everything is secured as intended around the base?"

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius.
Thermidorian Quarters
Command Section
3th Company, 557th Segmentian

Valentine Irvine

Around her a hive of activity was awoken as if someone had stroke a bee's nest with a stick. All around her women threw whatever they had in hands during their rest. Cards flew, and parade uniforms were discarded on the floor. Books were abandoned opened and snacks half eaten, caff staying warm in the cups as everyone went to their posts. In moments like these, Valentine Irvine was proud to be a Captain of the Thermidorian Maidens. Her colleague officers did not even have to shout orders or punish sloth. Everyone knew what their duty was, and as soon the alert spread, no one was left behind in the fulfillment of it.

Gunners jumped into their vehicles and started the systems with booming and sizzling sounds, the engines, auspexii and cogi-comms sprinting to life under expert hands and minds. Right next to her, in perfect order, four women crawled through the hatch of a Hydra Flak tank, as easily as if they were sliding in turn through a water tube. Less than one minute after they did, the tower of the vehicle was gyrating, using its radars to track possible threats. Basilisks roared and occupied their positions around the billets, calibrating distances and sensors, rounds already sliding into barrels. Security details grouped up and grabbed their weapons from the side of their assigned Chimeras, forming around their vehicles. Defenders jumped into their defensive platforms and shook the guns into life, linked auto cannons clicking when they received live ammo into their innards, electro pistons zooming as the massive guns did swivel to look at the sky. She looked to the other side of the camp, where her colleague Corelia Lexington was standing. The other woman smiled, her sentiment of pride equally present in the blonde Captain's visage. The Major would be proud. Order of battle from zero to full readiness in less than 3 minutes. Every engine in position, every gunner with the hand in the trigger. She checked her personal slate where she was being fed directly from the augmented sensors of the Inflecto Maestus. An invisible bubble surrounded Fort Macharius, able to perceive anything entering or leaving the area, and able to identify military hardware and troop movement.

Whatever it was that was coming, it would find the thermidorians ready for it.

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius.
In march to the Main Command Building
3th Company, 557th Segmentian

Victoria Vanhayn

"What do you mean by an accidental discharge? I need to speak to the Colonel personally immediately!” The thermidorian Major could have smacked the words into the Segmentian vox officer if she could. "Alright, I will look for her at the Motorpool if I need to go personally", she waited a second for the answer and heard carefully the bead. "Captain-Commissar Amsel is there too? Better to kill two birds with one stone". The formal commander turned to her driver and gave her a signal with her index finger gyrating. "Turn around. Motorpool in all haste", she said over the sound of the salamander vehicle she was riding at cruise speed.

She pondered for a minute and then opened a channel to speak back with her own command section, aboard her Macharius Consul tank. "Lieutenant Lester, please give me good news", she asked through the comm.

"Only ten minutes have passed, Madam. It has been impossible to decipher such a code in such short amount of time. As I said, it does not follow a pattern...", answered from the other side her console operator. "If there is one and it is not gibberish, I cannot see it".

"I had hopes in you, woman. Convince me to keep having them", dryly retorted Vanhayn.

"I can try, Madam", put another voice, the vox operator of the tank, the evisorian girl, something-something Pike. "I don't think we can find the pattern relating to what we have in storage. Give me some time and I will break it".

Vanhayn seemed to ponder everything for 5 seconds. "Give the girl a chance, Lester. Let's hope she can hear what your ears can't", she told her subordinates, taking the decision. "Is the company in defensive formation?"

"Captain Irvine just ringed so", courtly answered the Lieutenant. "All in place".

"You keep up with her, Lester, and let the girl work full time on those codes. I need to know what has been the PDF hiding from us. That's the key to find out the origin of those massive explosions in the other imperial bases across the planet". Vanhayn expected to get that mystery clear, before anything else came on top of them. The Salamander vehicle gave another jolt as it sped towards the motorpool at full speed, bringing Vanhayn to the Colonel.

[Bredtonia]

Having been pointed in the direction of the colonel’s office, Lcmr. Marki arrived on the third floor of the administration building and knocked on the woman’s door. As his hand made contact with the door, the entire wooden structure shook. Taken aback by the seemingly connected events, Dominic paused for a moment his mind not quickly connecting the blast to an artillery round. Shaking off the stunning coincidence, the Lieutenant stepped back and snatched the mask off his belt and snapped it to his face his vox coming alive as he did so.

“I’m on, what the situation.” Marki asked along the command channel.

“Sit 27, Commander,” One of platoon lieutenants replied, indicating potential surprise assault.

“I’m not picking up any other weapons fire, however. Someone might have cooked off an artillery round.” The first sergeant added in. “Where are you, sir, we’ll come pick you up.”

The door barely missed Marki as the colonel burst out of her office and headed for the source of the explosion. Dominic himself, took a quick running step to match momentum and formed up with the small squad filling around the commander. Although he doubted it would turn up to be anything noteworthy, next to the regimental commander was as good a place as any if this really did turn into something to worry about.

“Negative.” Dominic quickly responded to his first sergeant. “Stay with support, I’m with the colonel. Try and get in contact with the Thermidorians. If what Fermi says about that Marcharius Consul is right, they’ll know if anything is going on.” Dominic paused for a moment to make it clear he was shifting conversations. “LTs, let the set up run to completion. Seems like our readiness exorcise is a little early today. Schulte, don’t worry about us, just keep to your own patrol and training.”

A minute or so later Dominic, still accompanying the colonel’s party, arrived at the scene of the explosion. Mikael quickly spotted him and pushed his way over with a handful of muttered “excuse me”. The techpriest, notably shorter than the commander, tried to explain the situation, as he’d figured it out so far. His explanation included such highlights as “intentional detonation” and “dead commissar”. While he talked he made a mental note of Enginseer Koder, thinking he should meet his fellow engenseers at some less dramatic point in time.

---

It was quickly clear Bellona was not the type to chat while she worked, and so with a mental sigh, Sargent Bryant was about ready to turn around and walk out when it became clear she intended to run through his forms immediately, rather than at some indeterminate future time. So instead he simply stood there at ease, waiting quietly and politely for her to stamp and seal the requisition forms. He nodded in agreement as she noted the classification of their company as a “Type D”.

“Aye, the commander fought for us to be included when the company was folded in. No offence, but we don’t count on traditional logistic corps to know how to keep a Steel Legion running far afield.”

A few moments later, he took the approved forms with a simple thank you. The only interesting part of it was the requirement to bring the powercells to cable hookups by the munitions pit, rather than giving him fully charged cells to swap out for his dead ones. If they were expecting an in-situ charge, they must have a hell of a generator with them. Which was quite nice for the base’s operations, even if it was likely to annoy the quartermaster when he relayed the news. He turned to walk out.

Moments later, by the time the sergeant’s brain caught up with his drilled in reactions, he found himself ducked beside the desk with his hand on his pistol. When no follow up explosions occurred, he got up slowly and headed cautiously for the door, pistol out and in hand. He stood by the door, but didn’t open it. A second later an operations code came over his vox. It translated to “Shelter in Place.” An order that meant, at least for the next few minutes, Bryant wasn’t going anywhere.

[Norvenia]

NATHANIEL

Sector Four Housing
Fort Macharius
“Purity” Platoon, 14th Company, 557th Segmentian

I saw the Urdeshi's smile curdle, then restore itself as I explained what we were about. "Of course," he replied. "Heh, we have our own priests in the company, but we - and the techpriests - also hold that there is always a time and place to thank the Omnissiah for our sustenance."

That, of course, gave rise to another moment of uncomfortable silence; I saw Joel Merton's long, dour face twist briefly and unhappily. Sacristans prayed to the spirit of the Emperor, the protector, savior, and redeemer of Mankind. If the Mechanicus could only admit Him as the Omnissiah, the embodiment of their blasphemous Machine God, then that was their problem - but most Sacristans felt uncomfortable nonetheless with accepting the Cult Mechanicus as anything but the most dubious corruption of the truth received through the Emperor and the great reforms of Sebastian Thor.

But by that time the young man was kneeling in our circle, and I was trying to get my mind off theology and back onto gratitude before I said grace. We knelt side by side, hand in hand, and I took a deep breath as I reached for the words of prayer -

"Chives and rosemary and something I can't define," said a tearful voice from just beyond the circle. A woman in Thermidorian uniform - Corporal Brewer, the cook, everyone knew her - stepped forward into the flickering golden light of the fire. "Who is the architect of this?" she cried. "Who is the artisan who brought this to you?”

With a snort of despairing laughter, I dropped back down onto my haunches and glanced wearily over at Zuriel. "I'm never going to get to say grace so we can actually eat this bloody thing, am I?" I asked rhetorically. The staff sergeant considered, then solemnly shook her head. "Aye," I agreed, "that's what I reckoned."

In the mean time, a few of the Rangers were trying to explain the deer. Everyone liked the Thermidorians, more or less: they were hard-working, honest, and they did a wide variety of jobs without which most of the new blended regiment would starve. We wouldn't, but we would be forced to live solely off the land, and that involved a lot of hungry, cold nights. So we were grateful that the Thermidorians were around, and glad to see them present. That went double for Corporal Brewer, who could work wonders with stew, even if she was a bit odd in the head.

"I shot the deer," Joel Merton explained, waving one thin hand awkwardly, "and Shadrach - ah, that's Lance-Corporal Shadrach Parks over there, with the melta - he carried it back." The big man, with his bushy moustashe-less beard, gave a friendly wave. "But Drusilla - Corporal Scott - she cooked it."

Drusilla gave a modest smile and waved a hand dismissively. "I'm no artisan," she demurred. "Just an old innkeeper, that's all. I found some fresh chives and rosemary out on the mountainside, some wild garlic, some chicory root for a smokey flavor - that's probably what you don't recognize. It's a rich land, this, full of good things, thank the Emperor." There was a reflexive ripple of pious agreement among the Rangers. Drusilla glanced at me and I gave a wave of permission. The Corporal turned back to Brewer. "If you are hungry, then please, join us. Share the fire."

"Now," I announced with comedic grumpiness, "I will finally say grace." I held out my hands, took a deep breath -

And a massive explosion echoed like a thunderclap across the base, the shockwave of its passing rippling my camouflage uniform. I was on the ground instantly, instinctively; the earth itself was the best protection from shrapnel overhead. The other Rangers dropped around me; Drusilla dragged Corporal Brewer to the ground. The Urdeshi dove for the bunkhouse wall - typical tanker instinct, to get to solid cover rather than trust the earth itself, natural and understandable but dangerous once the shrapnel started flying. He turned to Shadrach, who was hugging the dirt nearby. “What on Mars...that was a battle cannon round.”

With the echoes still fading, I was on my feet, lasgun unclipped from its harness on my chest armor. The rest of Purity rose around me. I pulled the polished walnut stock of my lasgun into my shoulder, detached my flak helmet from my hip, and pulled it on. "Combat gear," I snapped, and the other Rangers followed suit. I turned to Lydia. "Get on the vox and find out what's going on," I growled. "Everyone else, fan out by fire-teams, and secure the base perimeter. If we're being attacked, we want to catch the enemy outside the base, slow them down as much as possible, and scout out their numbers and capabilities." By the time I'd finished speaking, every man and woman in Purity platoon was standing, helmets on, lasguns ready - a circle of camouflaged ghosts blending into the evening gloom. Lydia alone still knelt, speaking quietly into her vox-caster.

I pointed a gloved finger at the Urdeshi. "Get back to your unit," I said firmly. "If this is for real, they'll need you. You too, Corporal Brewer. We can't afford to lose the only human in the galaxy who can make stew taste appetizing." I grinned briefly, teeth flashing in the dark. "Keep an eye out for us so we don't get shot on our return. We'll be back."

And with that, I turned and ran off into the gathering dark. The Ranger platoon jogged out the gate of the airbase, and split up into five-man teams. And then, like smoke from the still-burning fire, those teams vanished into the surrounding forest without a sound and without a trace, as if they had never been at all.

HOSEA

Sector Four Housing
Fort Macharius
Scout Sniper Squad “Purity," 14th Company, 557th Segmentian

The Urdeshis didn't actually jump when the tomahawk buried itself at their feet, which took balls, I suppose. I guess you don't get to be a coward by driving a tin can filled with thousands of gallons of promethium into heavy enemy fire. Anyway, this four turned around, all grinning like waxworks. "Ah!" one of them announced, his arms wrapped around a tin of some sort. "Oh, hello. We were just looking for you guys, actually."

The show of innocence was so obviously false that I didn't even bother replying; I just pulled my tomahawk out of the ground, wiped it on my leg, replaced it in its loop on my belt, and then folded my arms and gazed directly at the tanker. Our gazes met for a few seconds, and then he looked away. I didn't blame him; unless you grow up with them, the bright Cadian-purple eyes of Sacristans are positively eerie to stare into for long.

"Okay," the man admitted. "Suppose, maybe...We were trying to sneak in, for a joke, you know? We just wanted to give you guys a surprise, no mess to clean up, no damage to anything, no harm done, just a surprise. But, you caught us. So fair game to -"

-and then there was a thunderclap like a boulder being split open, a sound of raw and echoing destruction. Instantly, I dropped to one knee, pulling my long-las into my shoulder, my camo-cloak already draped around my limbs. The Urdeshi's face went taut. "-you-what-the...That, wasn't us." He looked at me. "And I don't think that was one of your people either, unless your jokes are a lot more serious then ours."

"We don't joke," I growled back, which Emperor knows wasn't true but which was definitely the simplest explanation. I straightened. "Brothers, if you ever want to come by, share our fire, eat some fresh game, swap stories - any of that - you're welcome. But I don't ever want to see that tin within a hundred yards of our bunkhouse again." I arched one pale eyebrow. "Clear?" Without waiting for a response, I gave a sharp nod. "Now - get back to your unit. If we're under attack, they'll need you to drive your frakking deathtraps." I lightened that last statement with a very faint smile and a wink - no need to be a total asshole. "Now go."

And with that, I turned and slipped off into the shadows, to find the rest of Patience and work out what the hell was going on. Five minutes later, I'd tracked them down, and we split up into hunting teams of two and set out into the forest to make sure that all was well.

In the end, of course, it wasn't. But that story is yet to come.

HODIAH

Sector Four Housing
Fort Macharius
Company Command Squad “Purity," 14th Company, 557th Segmentian

Everyone's afraid of Gideon.

It's not like he wants us to be, though he certainly knows it and doesn't try too hard to stop it. And Emperor knows that we love him, too; it's only because of him that most of us are still alive. He'd give his right arm for any one of us, and die a thousand deaths for all of us together. But that's sort of why we're all afraid of him too, at the same time, you see - he burns too hot. It's not normal for a man to live his whole life at that pitch of intensity. He's ready - at every moment - to step in front of a bullet for us. He's ready - at every moment - to lead and plan and kill and die. He wakes up ready, he goes to bed ready. He rarely smiles, never laughs, doesn't joke, doesn't ever turn it off, if you know what I mean. Everyone else sits around the campfire with a flask of applejack and enjoys the simple pleasures of life, and that's good - that's how people ought to be. Only Gideon Cromwell works, and paces, and sits with that absolute stillness of iron self-control that is somehow scarier than any motion could be. I wish to the Emperor on high that the man would just fidget every once in a while like other human beings.

Anyway, that evening, the command squad was gathered in the back room of one of our bunkhouses to eat dinner. It's funny how squads always tend to fall into family dynamics. In ours, Gideon's the stern, rather distant father; Amos is the gruff, affectionate uncle (or possibly the world's most hirsute mother); Berenice and I are the kids; and Constance is some estranged cousin. She was there, but distant, watching from the outside in. That's what the commissar's cap does, I suppose. That and the fact that unlike all of the rest of us, she hadn't actually grown up on Sacristan.

We get good food - it's one of the perks of the command squad. All Sacristans eat better-than-average, of course, just because we're so good at finding our own sources of food. Combine that with officer's rations, and you can get some pretty gourmet meals. I started my time in the Rangers as a decent camp cook - the skills aren't that different from medicine, if you think about it - but over the years I improved dramatically. That night, as I recall, we had wild asparagus braised in lemon butter; buckwheat griddle-cakes cooked on a hot stone, spread with soft cheese with wild herbs; roast quail that one of the snipers had brought back that morning, served with a sauce of wild mint, wild garlic, and cream; and another griddle-cake, this one with chocolate chips, for dessert. Not a bad spread, if I say so myself.

The conversation was muted. Gideon is a ferocious eater; he just shovels the food down, like he's got a hollow leg or something. I don't blame the man - just being himself has to take a vast amount of energy. In the mean time, the rest of us traded impressions of the other companies in the regiment. The general impression was that the Segmentians and Higarans were both competent, but likely to get Rangers killed in pointless pitched battles; that the Harakoni, Lesznii, and Steel Legion would be excellent in a fight, but would need light infantry support to avoid being cut off; that the Urdeshi were a bit off-putting with all of their Mechanicus religion, but vital for armored support; and that the Morridanes were good scouts, although the Rangers were more used to cold weather and high altitudes. The Mordians were, well, Mordians, and no one knew much about the Byronians or the Schwarzen Manner. The Erasmians irked us with their ever-presence Ecclesiarchy priests - Thorian puritans didn't get on with the mainstream Ministorum. The Irilaxi and Scintillans were objects of pure contempt - pretty-boys from noble families dressed up to play at war. And, of course, everyone loved the Thermidorians.

When we heard the detonation - dulled by the walls, but with enough force to rattle our silverware - all conversation instantly stopped. Immediately, Berenice's vox-caster began squawking; as she listened and quietly replied, the rest of us rapidly strapped on our camouflage battle gear. I picked up the heavy pack of my mobile surgery, offering a silent prayer that I wouldn't need it. By the time I turned around, Gideon was strapping on his helmet. He had a hand-crafted hotshot lasgun in the crook of one arm; a bolt pistol was holstered next to his tomahawk on one hip, and Winter Wind - that venerable power sword in the ancient design known as a katana - was strapped to his back, alongside his pack. He gave Berenice a brief nod. "News?"

"Situation's unclear," she replied briefly. "It looks like an accidental detonation at the motor pool, but Loyalty, Probity, Dignity, Purity, and Justice have headed out into the woods anyway, to scout for approaching hostiles. Generosity and Patience are with them too. Power is in position to defend the west gate, Might the east. Whirlwind, Wrath, Deliverance, and Vengeance are our mobile reserve, along with Courage."

Gideon simply nodded. In most regiments, for squads and platoons to take such decisive independent action would result in chaos; even if it worked, it would end with the relevant officers court-martialed for insubordination. Rangers were different. Each squad, each platoon, was expected to take independent action, and it was the adaptation of each part to the larger whole which produced flexible, spontaneous, effective plans without the need for centralized control.

At any rate, Gideon nodded, and then gestured. "I want to see what's happened," he announced simply, and strode off, leaving the rest of us hurrying to catch up. The Salamander was parked outside; we clambered into its customized seats, and soon we were racing toward the motor pool.

By the time we got there, the place was already thronged with troopers from seemingly every company in the regiment. Amos parked the Salamander, and we shouldered our way through the press, a small knot of five figures instantly identifiable in our camouflage battlegear, tomahawks on our hips.

We finally made it through to where Colonel Victoria was standing, hands on hips, clearly determined to sort out what had happened. Gideon took two steps forward, stopped, remembered that he wasn't serving under a Ranger officer, and managed a half-hearted salute. The rest of us almost flinched to see it - salute on the battlefield, and you're sniper bait. Anyway, Gideon dropped his hand as quickly as he realistically could, and then said briefly: "I have units at both entrances and most of my company scouting the surrounding countryside for any approaching hostiles. If this is just an accident, they'll be back by midnight anyway. Just thought you should know." He gave a brief nod and stepped away.

[Legital]

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius
Motor Pool

---

11:20 AM

---

Junior-Commissar Claus exchanged a knowing agitated look with Captain-Commissar Amsel at the ever growing amount of guardsmen present. While it showed that the troopers of the regiment were competent enough to investigate a possible attack or accident, it was however not very pleasing to have so many troopers and officers arriving to gawk at the scene. If this was an attack, what better place to attack again than a clumped up group of bodies?

Claus walked up to the captain-commissar, his figure much smaller and shorter than that of his senior, and he leaned in to whisper into Amsel's ear. "With all due respect sir, I think you should perhaps fire your weapon to garner everybody's attention, and then dismiss them." He said, pulling back and glancing at Amsel. Amsel, his face even more of a scowl from the recent events, nodded with the 'I had the same idea' look on his face. Casually, Amsel raised his bolt pistol into the air and fired off three consecutive shots, the bolt rounds causing a considerable echo around the motor pool. As the voices died down, and Amsel could properly address everyone instead of single people coming up to him like little Schola Progenium children, the Captain-Commissar took a hard glance around at the crowd before speaking up in the loudest voice he could muster.

"As presiding regimental commissar, I order that everybody must immediately report back to their barracks and commanding officers. If you were a witness to this event, or desire an audience with myself or the colonel, then stay as you will." He announced, glancing at the colonel and her retinue, along with the nearby Sacristians who stood near her. "Further explanation of this event will be issued at a later time after a formal investigation. As of now, there are no wounded and the commissariat and regimental command have the situation under control. Any assistance on our part will be requested.You will know if we have summoned you. I am personally issuing a general alert. Remain vigilant and stay at your posts until further orders, effective immediately." Amsel finished, glancing at his Junior-Commissar who was now beginning to usher people out of the area. Claus had popped the latch on his leather holster on his belt, revealing part of his bolt pistol. Commissars, and others who came from the Schola Progenium, were taught that an open holster created some psychological affect to deter individuals from the one with the holster and weapon. It was not, however, something that one needed to be taught that an open holster meant business.

Captain-Commissar Amsel turned his attention to Lieutenant Sinnett, as he had previously managed to hear her response before his attention was taken away. Amsel took a few steps towards the woman, bidding the nearby Mordian woman aside, and he nodded. "Very well, then. Vanhayn's diligence for a company alert will be noted. Now, report to your company post. Dismissed." He said simply, turning towards the Urdeshi trooper. "You, remain here. I wish to hear your response, but not at this exact time." Amsel said, then turning towards the Mordian. "You are dismissed to your company." He ordered, then turning around to ensure that the troopers in the are were now dispersing. Junior-Commissar Claus was still doing his best efforts to keep the guardsmen and woman moving out of the area.

---

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius
Higaran 2nd Company billets

"Ya, looks like a good ol' crowd." The Higaran soldier said, standing on the roof of the old barracks building with a small gathering of soldiers behind him. Clasped to his eyes was a set of binoculars, bound in black leather. He stood with on foot elevated on the 'curb' of the roof edge, gazing intently across the military base at the far distant gathering of troopers, who appeared to be dispersing somewhat now. The explosion had, like many of the others around the base, put the Higarans on a bit of an edge. Without a follow up explosion after some minutes, it was determined it was an accident. Despite that, the men were much more attentive and alert now than they were before. Each man wore his spiked unique Higaran helmet, which was composed of a tough carapace shell with black leather bound around the outside of the helmet. A metal aquila, made up of non-reflective bronze, was lain out on the frontal section of the helmet, and a bronze ornamental spike was erected from the top of the helmet. Unlike the ancient variants worn by Higarans thousands of years ago, the newer helmets extended down around the head more, providing better protection than those worn by Higarans who once belonged to the age old Imperial Army.

"I reckon Amsel's down there do'en his job'en all. Claus too, I bet. Ain't see that fella around here lately." The man continued, removing the binoculars from his eyes, his face somewhat crinkled in the cold air. Bringing a hand up to pensively stroke his mustache, he passed the binoculars to the next trooper who in turn gazed at the distant scene. Company Captain Gustav stood with the gathering of troopers, his arms crossed to keep the warmth closer to his body. It seemed as the hours passed, the air seemed only to get colder and colder. "Awful lot of people, though. Maybe something else happened." A trooper near Gustav offered, and the somewhat dour looking captain gazed at the distant scene. "A possibility, I suppose. Either way, I bet there will be some alert on station. May as well get to it, boys." Gustav said, turning to the group of troopers who were somewhat less than thrilled to spend the rest of their day in company positions in full uniform. Many probably had some recreational plans in mind, but that was out the window now. Seeing the reluctance in some of his men, Gustav glanced them over and frowned. "Come on now lads, I said get to it. You know I don't like asking twice, and Amsel sure as Throne won't ask twice."

The gathered men, pushing aside their unhappiness for the time being, hopped to it. A few clicked their heels in the Higaran battlefield salute or acknowledgment, while the others quickly set off towards the stairs. A young Higaran trooper, a vox operator with his vox-caster attached to his back, stood beside Gustav, awaiting an order. When the shell had exploded, which was a possible attack, all vox operators had gathered their sets and set off to find their platoon leaders or other designated officer. The vox units would then relay messages to squad leaders, who had vox beads themselves. Gustav nodded to the boy, who turned slightly as Gustav reached for the headset on the side of the vox. Thumbing the transmission stud, he spoke into it.

"Attention, attention. General quarters. General quarters. All troopers gather with platoons and await further orders." The captain said sternly, repeating his message once more quickly before placing the headset back on the vox-unit. Gustav adjusted his helmet, gazing at the distant scene at the motor pool. "Sir, do you think this was an attack?" The young trooper asked, and Gustav stroked the side of his face for a moment before answering. "I don't know. Either way, let us be ready for whatever regimental command wants to throw at us. Now is a perfect time to asses the regiment's battle readiness on a moments notice. Well, let's get to it lad." Gustav said, nodding his head at the stairs, before setting off with the trooper.

However, as he reached the stairs, Gustav paused. While his hearing was not exceptional, he found himself hearing a slight mechanical drone coming from somewhere. He turned around to glance at the motor pool again, but did not see any large vehicles at this distance moving. The sound was almost like an...aircraft, or rather, multiple aircraft. Turning his gaze to the sky, Gustav glanced around until he was looking in the direction of the capital city, Nova Prime, which was hidden by the sheer distance and forested hills. Above the forested hills, however, Gustav spotted what looked like several aircraft squadrons flying in the direction of the base. While throughout the morning PDF flyers had flown by, they had only come by in squads of one or two. Gustav estimated about triple that.

With a slowly forming gruff frown, Gustav felt a somewhat uneasy feeling. The unaccounted for explosion, and now this large approaching flyer formation. But the more he looked at the aircraft, Gustav then began to make out what appeared to be plumes of smoke in the far distance, which he had previously thought to be dark clouds against the otherwise clear sky. Adjusting his helmet again with the notable frown on his face, Gustav felt an arm lightly touch his arm and he startled slightly. "Apologies, sir. Are you coming along?" The young vox trooper said with a questionable look on his face. The captain, looking at the approaching aircraft one more time, nodded and followed the Higaran down the stairs and into the barracks.

---

Capital city of Nova Prime
Adeptus Arbites Precinct Courthouse
Under siege

For the third time that day, Jessan found himself knocked aside from a strong explosive blast as he, Finx, and several other arbitrators made their way through an upper hallway towards the frontal battlements. The explosion had to have been rather large, as they were quite a number of floors above the ground floor and they were in a stone keep. Something that could knock several men into a wall, despite their location, had to have been, certainly, rather large. Jessan grimaced as dust and grit fell from the ceiling overhead, and he wiped his gloved hand across his face to clear it of the light debris which had fallen. The sound of battle was much large now as they were much closer to the outside world than they were in the front courtyard. If the sound was not enough proof, the several displaced bricks and wounded men laying in the hallway was plenty of proof itself.

"What exactly to you think is going on?" An arbitrator from behind Jessan yelled. "A revolt, I guess!" Another called back, obviously still not grasping that a quiet world like Pan Arcadia would explode in a violent uprising in just minutes. "I heard the Imperial Guard garrison in Prospekt out west was wiped out!" Another arbitrator called out. "Grox shit! There's no way that's true! Quite listening to greenhorn rumors!" Another barked back angrily. Finx, just ahead of Jessan, turned his head and offered an inquisitive but concerned look. Jessan mirrored his friends expression. If the rumor was true, than a PDF force with likely civilian forces had wiped out a few Imperial Guard regiments on the other side of the planet. That meant that, for one, this was a planet wide revolt, and that two, the Pan Arcadians were capable of killing an entire trained Imperial Guard contingent. Jessan prayed that that was the actual case, and that no taint, Emperor preserve them, was at play. Xenos taint was somewhat probable as Pan Arcadia was a rather isolated planet. But the other kind...it simply did no good to think about.

After a quick minute, Jessan and the arbitrator gang finally arrived at one of the upper battlements. Like castles of ancient Terra, the imperial defenders hid behind turrets and murder-holes, firing down at the attackers below. Several dead men lay where they had died at their place on the wall, and the arbitrators quickly filled in those spots. Jessan flinched as a las-round soared over his head, blasting a miniscule crater in the stonework above. A man beside him took a shot to the chest and stumbled back, shocked and likely too full of adrenaline to yell. Tucking his head into his body, Jessan grabbed a lasrifle of a dead man beside him and, after checking the battery pack, slipped the gun over the wall and began to fire at the enemy lines below.

The ground between the courthouse and front gate was a literal no mans land. Just earlier today the land was green and grassy, with stone pathways leading to and fro. Now the ground was grey and brown, pock marked with craters, debris, and bodies. A series of hard rounds zipped over the section of the wall Jessan was at, and the men hid behind the stone battlements as the wave of metal passed over. From the doorway they had entered from, a duo of arbitrators, hunched over and running to avoid the rounds hitting the stonework up ahead, carried a heavy stubber between themselves towards one of the turrets and quickly set up the gun. In just a few seconds, the deep staccato of the gun was beating at his chest as the machine gun team fired down at the enemy.

Jessan, without much thought, poked his head and rifle back out and fired again down towards the enemy. To think that just today he had plans for a day of relaxation. What was a possibility hours ago was now something that seemed farther than Holy Terra herself.

---

Imperial Planet
Fort Macharius
Woodlands
On approach to the Fort

"Alright, listen up." The husky voice of the lieutenant said within the confines of the chimera, his face partly concealed by a rebreather mask. The mechanical roar of the vehicles was quite loud, and most of the men in the chimera had to lean towards the lieutenant to hear him properly. In turn, the lieutenant leaned towards the center of the chimera. "We'll be arriving at Fort Macharius in several minutes. So far, the Imperials are unaware of their surroundings and the events at hand. We're going to make a full approach after our air coverage provides a brief bombing of the base in hopes of crippling their armor, most of which sits in the open or in large hangers." The man said, glancing over the PDF troopers.
"Take the time now to check your weapons and kit. This will likely be a clean up job once those pigs are scattered by the bombs, but don't loose your head. Am I clear?" The PDF lieutenant said, receiving a cheering salute in response.

Trooper Garson, his lasgun sitting between his knees, smiled. Today was the day that the Imperials would be removed from glorious Pan Arcadia, and that the planet would begin it's first day of true independence with the help of so called 'dark powers'. The Imperials, he was told, were ignorant and would never embrace the powerful capabilities of the powers which they refer to as 'dark' and 'ruinous'. All Garson saw was powerful and exceptional. But, if the Imperials wished to fight for an outdated empire, than so be it. Their God-Emperor, the being which was drilled into his head as holy and supreme throughout his childhood, was but a figurehead with no power. The Great powers which the Imperials were so scared of would wipe them away. Garson simply could not help but smile again at the thought.

"Hey, Gar! How many you reckon I'll bag? Fifteen? Twenty? Oxman bets I can't rack five!" The man beside Garson said with a gleeful tone in his voice. Garson turned to look at Vennick, a member of his squad, with a grin on his face. "Five is a bit of a stretch. I'll give your four. However, I'm looking at about ten myself. Right between the eyes, too." Garson declared, looking to his friends to see grins written upon their faces as well. Vennicks slapped Garson on the back of his shoulder, laughing. "Grox's hide! You won't hit anything!" Oxman, across from Vennick, simply grinned with a hint of satisfaction. "Plenty to go around, I bet. I just want to see the look on one's face when I go in for the kill." He says, making an invisible stabbing motion in the air before him.

The men, eager and excited, continued on their way towards the Imperial base. The lieutenant glanced at his wrist chronometer, and then settled back in his seat. The bombardment should begin shortly....

---

Imperial Planet
Fort Macharius
Above the Woodlands
On approach to the Fort

Pilken firmly held the choke of his bird steady, his eyes glued ahead at the base that was coming up below. He felt like he could feel every slight motion in his bird as it shuddered in the wind gusts up high in the air, as it moved along smoothly to deliver death from above. Most of all, however, was that he could feel his heart thudding in his chest beneath his black flight suit and harness. While radio silence was currently being maintained, Pilken could hear static and the drone of his aircraft in his ears as if it were all being played to him from the vox headset within his flight helmet. This is it. he thought, his pulse thudding away. In a few short days the planet will be ours. And it starts with me, here, and now. He thought, taking in a deep breath and letting it out.

Turning his head to the side to peer down towards the forest, he could make out part of the chimera infantry formation. From what he was briefed with, the chimeras were to be approaching the base through the woods in a staggered line formation. Forty or so, all with infantry. Pilken knew that after the quick bombing run, the chimeras would force their way into the base and exterminate every last Imperial there. It was a pleasing thought.

Suddenly, he heard the chime in his ear and cleared his mind as his flight leader came on over the vox. "Maintain current formation. Scattered but tight. Hold steady. Corvo, adjust altitude by thirty-six plus. We're going in with a standard dive formation. On my mark, the first row dives, second follows. You all know the drill. Wait for my mark. We're almost there, boys. Flight-Lead One out." Heart still pounding away, Pilken rubbed his thumb along the top of the control stick.

The Imperial base was so close now, he felt like he was almost on top of it, but he knew there were still some precious minutes until they actually were. Victory would feel so, so sweet.

[The National Dominion of Hungary]

Fort Macharius, Planet Pan Arcadia
Major Jan-Szigmunt Waszielewski

The Major had quietly reviewed reports on supply and squad composition. The losses they had suffered against the Eldar filth had left much of a headache when it came to the complete reorganization and restructuring of what had become the 9´th Company's order of battle. Squads were disbanded, molded and reassembled with new configurations to maximize their hitting-power. After all, Lesznii Regiments are called Shock Corps for a reason. They were not men and women who would sit idle in a trench, oh no. They may not posess the iron discipline of the Mordians, whose earlier display of marching and lyrical skill Waszielewski had found rather quite amusing. But the Lesznii had ferocity and their obligation, to bring glory to their ancestors and to Mother Lesznah. Waszielewski belived that his troops in close cooperation with the Thermidorian artillery could prove a rather effective offensive force. He would have to speak to their major on the subject. He had only met her briefly at the introductions but he noticed right away that she was of noble blood, like him. It would propably prove refreshing to have a civilized conversation with someone of hopefully equal station.

But before he could call Vanhayn over the vox and discuss the matter, a massive expolsion shook the windows of his office threw a bright light across the base. Sirens started blaring and he heard the commotion erupt below as the troops left whatever they had occupied themselves with to make ready for battle. As did their commander. His carapace armor was more than a simple suit meant to protect the wearer from the horrors of the front. It was a work of art, costly and luxurious, with golden and silver details and decorative patterns. The crest of House Waszielewski was imbued across the chest and the Imperial Aquila upon the shoulderplates. Indeed, it was almost to fine to be used in battle, but he was a Waszielewski and the Posadnik of Nowy Targ, it was only proper. But as he buckeled his swordbelt and checked his laspistol he wondered...

Was it truly and attack? Who could possibly attack the fort without any kind of prior notice? They were surrounded by hard terrain and there were only a few select paths through which one could move a heavy strike force with artillery and armor support. This would be interesting indeed. But on the other hand, it could have been gross misconduct with the munitions. If that was the case he would not want to be in the shoes of the commander whose troops would be reponsible. The shame and dishonor would be unimaginable. They were the Imperial Guard, holy defenders of Mankind and someone had made them look like a band of babbling baboons. The guilty would have to be made and example of, luckily the regiment had it´s share of Commissars that would see to that part of the situation. But then on the other hand... What if they were under attack from external forces? Unlikely as it sounded, it was a possibility.

As he left his office he activated the voxbead at the ear. "Major Waszielewski to Regimental Command, requesting Sit-Rep, over."

[Lunas Legion]

"Silence!" Berhalm shouted over the notice that filled the 1st/47ths barracks as the Guardsmen scrambled for their equipment, slowly finishing off as a low droning filled the empty space.

"I'd recognise that sound anywhere..." Pavelum muttered. "Why in the Throne's name are some Valkyries heading this way? We aren't due for R&R for weeks."

"Sure they aren't Vendettas, Lieutenant?" One of the Guardsmen asked as he glanced over his lasgun as they began to slowly file out of the barracks into the open space behind where Commisar Guibbet was busy roaring at the slowly assembling Hakaroni.

"Yep." Pavelum nodded. "There's a tiny difference in pitch only a drop trooper or tech priest can distinguish. Or there's that I don't think the PDF are supposed to have Vendettas, but you never know."

The Guardsman nodded and joined a group of eight as they left the nearly empty barracks.

"Lieutenant-" Berhalm spoke up. "See to your men. I need to go bother the Tauros crews and then Regimental Command. I'm placing bets on those Valkyries being stolen by Orks; Orks ruin everything everywhere especally on planets where they aren't supposed to be."

Pavelum nodded and darted out the door, joining Guibbet in the process of ensuring the 1st/47th were prepared if there was a battle while Berhalm grabbed the mouth-piece of his former Regiment's long-range Vox, tuned it into the regimental frequency.

"Gimme a sit-rep command, preferably now."

[Norvenia]

NATHANIEL

Woodland
Near Fort Macharius
“Purity” Platoon, 14th Company, 557th Segmentian

We heard them first. The forest is still, and the forest is quiet - not silent, but quiet. Noise comes, noise goes - the trilling of a bird, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath a deer's hoof. But there are no constant sounds, not except for the wind. A constant sound means a machine, something that doesn't change, something that doesn't pause for breath. It's a dead giveaway.

We heard them on the wind, as we swept the forest. Each camouflaged figure was perhaps thirty yards from the next: far enough that if one of us were spotted, the rest would not be given away - but close enough that we could still see each other through the trees if we watched closely. The noise was distant, a low humming roar. I dropped to one knee, lasgun raised and aimed. There was a long silence, and then Zuriel murmured into her microbead: "Aircraft. In force."

I nodded and stood. That wasn't normal. But the aircraft still sounded Imperial, which made it even stranger.

Looking back, I think I knew even then - knew it in my gut, even if I couldn't admit it. Maybe it was the sixth sense that Sacristans get from living in the mouth of the Maelstrom, that tingling awareness of the presence of the Ruinous Powers. I knew what was coming. I knew who was coming. And I knew why. But I wasn't ready to admit it, not then, not yet, not to myself.

It was Joel who spotted them first. He was near the road that led up to the fort. It was cut into a mountainside, that road, so the ground rose steeply above it to a crest from which one could look down with ease. Joel Merton was moving along the top of that ridge directly above the road, slipping from tree to tree; he was almost a quarter-mile to my left, well out of sight, but within micro bead transmission range. I distinctly heard in my ear the low owl call which he mimicked into the vox.

That told me a couple of things. It told me that there was danger present, or a strange anomaly. And it told me that the danger was close enough for Joel to fear exposing himself if he used words instead of bird calls. I felt a tightening in my gut. This is for real.

I paused, and held up my left hand, clenched in a fist. Then I held up one finger, and spun it briefly above my head. Silently, the platoon command squad collected itself around me. I held up two fingers, and pointed just behind me; equally silently, Purity Two gathered about thirty yards behind the command squad. Finally, I waved my hand, and the rest of the platoon resumed their patrol. The first two squads, by contrast, now followed me as we moved, carefully and silently, to the ridge top where Joel was waiting.

When we got there, we fanned out and stayed low, laying prone on the ridge top so as to blend in with the earth and not present a silhouette from the perspective of the road below. Silently, Joel pointed down.

The road below was filled with a long column of armored vehicles. It was a narrow road, and the Chimeras were big, so they were moving in single-file for the most part. They were clearly Arcadian PDF - the olive-green paint scheme was unmistakeable - but many were daubed with irregular streaks of blood-red paint as well. And there were a lot of them. And they were approaching in what all of us clearly recognized as battle order - live weapons, hulls sealed. From where I lay, I could see the gleam of the morning light on the golden shells of bolter rounds and heavy stubber cartridges. Those were not blanks, and this was no exercise.

I lay there, and I tried to think of some explanation for this besides the obvious one, besides the recognition that we had been betrayed here as we had been everywhere else, besides the belief that no one could really be trusted and that darkness had its hooks in everywhere. I wracked my brain, but there was nothing else to be found.

I closed my eyes a moment. I felt sorrow, yes, but not really surprise. Like I said: I think I had known from the moment that we first heard the aircraft engines in the distance. Now it was just a matter of adjusting to new realities.

I wormed my way back down the rear side of the slope so as to be out of sight of the road below, and then turned to Lydia. "Regimental command," I said quietly. I had a momentary qualm about bypassing Captain Cromwell, but the truth was that this was over his head, over everyone's head. Lydia already had the long-range vox-caster set up; wordlessly, she offered me the headset. I took a deep breath, and accepted it.

"Regimental command," I transmitted, "this is Purity Platoon, Fourteenth Company. We have PDF infantry and light armor advancing en masse toward Fort Macharius from at least one direction. They are in battle order, with live weapons, repeat live weapons." For a moment, I considered leaving it at that; the colonel wasn't a Sacristan, after all, and might have me up on court-martial charges for daring to offer my own advise. I shook my head; I was on the ground and the colonel wasn't, and that meant that I had to convey the seriousness of a situation which she herself could not see. If it saved the fort, it would be worth a court-martial for insubordination.

So I took another deep breath, and continued. "This is not a drill, Colonel, not with sealed Chimeras and live ammo. They mean business. I don't know what's going on, but I recommend you prepare for possible immanent assault. And if it comes, Colonel, please contact us and give us a weapons-free order. We're in a position to derail their whole advance; knock out one Chimera, and they'll have to clear the wreckage off the road before they can continue. So keep us in mind, ma'am. Please confirm; over."

[Saragrossa]

Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius
8th Company - The " Iron Ladies "
1st Mordian Heavy Infantry

---

The Mordian column had regrouped after the fiasco at the motor pool. They were in full gear, armor and squads had brought their heavy weapons. Lieutenant Ceasre saw this an opportunity to continue some night time drills. She ordered the first platoon in her company to join her for some morning exercises. She would begin

The Mordians would do some drilling, exercises just around the compound. Mostly jogging, drills and parade formations and a break for mid meal. Agustina ordered her squad to follow her as they begin to do laps and warm up before exerting themselves. The ladies ran in full gear, hoping to get an early start on the day. They would switch up their morning routine with full gear or not and different sections of their company would do morning, then evening shifts to stimulate the randomness of combat. Agutina and her command squad would start off the day with jogging then weights, mock combat and gun drills before eating and she thought switching up the routine between night and day would keep the ladies on their toes and fight off boredom.

[Morrdh]

5th (Morridane) Company Billets, Sector One, Fort Macharius

Immediately after having the offending sign dealt with Captain Stormwell ran into a small crowd of Morridane soldiers watching the Mordian women march by in full kit, presumably off on a route march or something. Whilst the Mordians might have been an impressive sight the Morridanes let their thoughts known in the form of wolf whistles and mild insults, understandably gaining a few evil looks from the Mordians. Stormwell knew his troops were joking around in an attempt to strive off boredom, but there was a risk that the Mordians wouldn't take it as friendly banter and so he intervened and called out. "Ye lot, company wide drill on the parade square in ten. Go on, shift it."

There was a few groans and dark mutterings, though the Muckers hurried off back to their billets to gather their kit and rouse the rest of the company. They were good soldiers, but their job was war rather than loiter round some billets on a backwater garrison duty. All the jokes, pranks and the various times acting like an unruly mob really was just distractions. What was needed was something to keep them focuses, a drill would help with that and make them behave like proper soldiers for a short bit.

[Sub Sector Protractis]

Fort Macharius
Regimental Motor Pool

Several dozen guardsmen had arrived on scene since Alexander and his men had arrived. Amid all the talking and questions the Regimental Commissar drew his weapon. 'Does he mean to kill whose responsible?' Alexander thought. The noise then interupted by *Crack*, *Crack*, *Crack*, following a bellowed order by Commissar Amsel for all troops to return to their posts and stand by. Alexander turned the Platoon Commander who had brought his platoon to the sight of the explosion and said "Lieutenant, you heard the man. Return to the barracks and let it known that all men will remain within our barracks area and I want one platoon from every company on duty. Until new word is passed the platoons will rotate every eight hours. Those not at rest will be conducting weapons maintenance and checks of all gear. I want radio checks every hour and no one is allowed in our barracks unless they are at least the rank of Captain." Turning to a member of his staff he said " Sergeant did you bring those items I told you to hold on too?"

"Yes Sir I did, the book is in my bag and the saber is tied on to the back of it." said The Sergeant who had begun to remove is rucksack.

The young Lieutenant replied " Yes sir." and ordered his platoon back to the barracks.

Alexander approached Captain Commissar Amsel and the Colonel whom he had barely met, walking past the younger Commissar Claus saying " Good morning sir, By your Leave." As he drew closer to Amsel he said " Good morning Mam and Good Morning Sir , I was on my way to see you before this unfortunate event. May I suggest to you and the Colonel that we post a Company for Interior Guard to maintain good order and discipline.... Also my Lord Commissar I have a gift from someone whom I served with at the last warzone my unit was stationed at." He motioned for the Sergeant to come closer, when the man was just behind and to the left of Alexander he handed a long item in a purple velvet cover with gold threading to him. Alexander undoing the knot and loosening the top to reveal a power sword that was ornamented and that had the hilt etched with the symbol of the Legion of Hydraphur (the Aquila grasping a sword with four diagonal bolts of lighting jetting out to the four corners of the cadian gate) contained within what appeared to be the symbol of the Cadian gate. " My Lord, this is from Centurion Mabus with his commendation for your service on your last campaign.
It has the Cadian regimental symbol as the actions were conducted as part of a Cadian mission with the symbol of Lord Mabus' Chapter noting your service with a member of his honored brotherhood. He said it was forged by one of his chapters own chief armorers, the engraving in high Gothic along the blade says ' Under his gaze, your blade strike true', It truly is a fine blade sir." said Alexander holding it out horizontally.

[Bredtonia]

First Sgt. Jaala Brandt
Company Command Chimera
Fort Marcharius 2nd Runway, “Little Armageddon”
11:51 AM

The sudden alert that had woken the 10th company from the semi-slumber of garrison duty was quickly looking like it would be little more interesting than a surprise drill. Yet, Jaala hadn’t been given her NCO posting for slacking off, so despite expecting nothing to come from it, she punched through the full required auspex procedures for imminent possible attack. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, she still almost hit the bypass when the cognator rang the alert for an unexpected contact. She caught herself at the last moment, however, and pressed the runes for a more detailed image instead. Above them the chimera’s turret, refitted with a powerful pict-finder where the gun would normally be, rotated and focused on the mysterious dots.

“Oh, shit.” Jaala replied, staring at the monitor. With sudden adrenaline, she flicked the voxcaster onto the command channel.

LCMR Dominic Marki & Enginseer Mikael
Fort Marcharius Motor Pool
11:52 AM

Marki was just turning to leave for his own company when he overheard the Scintillan talking with the Colonel. Concerned about what was said, he turned back and joined in the conversation. Mikael, who was still with him among the group departing the scene of the detonation, likewise stopped, though with less grace or purpose.

“With all due respect to the Major, I must disagree. Colonel, assigning one of the companies to police the others will only create resentment, and likely result in more accidents. Particularly with the plethora of potential cultural misunderstandings in this….”

Dominic paused, holding his hand to his ear in the universal sign of listening to a radio earpiece. “You picked up what? … Call the Thermidor, make sure they frakking know about this.” Dominic tapped the radio button, swapping channels to his LTs “Sit32, Sit32, I want the whole runway covered. I’ll deal with the Munitorm if turns out to be false alarm, just do it.”

Beside him what little skin of Mikael’s that could still be seen turned white. He nervously fingered the mechanicum holy symbol that hung around his neck before reaching up and tightening the chinstrap on his helmet.

His side conversation apparently over, Dominc turned back to the Colonel. “Ma’am, we need to get under cover, there are six aircraft, probably thunderbolts, approaching in attack formation.” He swallowed hard. “I’m not sure the PDF is just practicing.”

Segmentian 10th Company
Fort Marcharius 2nd Runway, “Little Armageddon”
11:54 AM

The runway that had been the home for the Armageddon portion of the Segmentian mixed regiment was a flurry of mechanized activity. Chimeras charged down the runway, servitors rushed to get trailers hooked up to their Trojan tow vehicles and sentinels rushed to throw the few requisitioned munitions still out in the open into the nearby munitions pit.

Sit32, or imminent air raid, was one of the last codes a commander wants to hear, particularly a commander without any flak tanks to fire back with. That didn’t mean there wasn’t some kind of plan in place, however. Under the order of the six lieutenants, the chimeras were quickly spreading out along the length of the runway. To pull off what they intended to do, the whole company needed to be spread out enough the dive bombers weren’t going to hit something by default. Once everyone was in position, they waited for the signal. Ducking in their armored APCs, Steel Legion infantry huddled with nothing to do but hope they didn’t suffer a direct hit.

In less than a minute, the aircraft would be upon them. “Now, Now, Now.” Jaala’s voice said over the general Vox. All around the flightstrip, the Chimeras, Trojans and trailers fired their smoke launchers, covering the area with obscuring smoke. The drivers kicked their vehicles into gear, each stuffing a little forward and back, turning in place to further obscure their final location. If everything went right, if everything was timed correctly, when the bombers looked to acquire a target, all they’d see of the 10th company was a few hundred yard long line of grey fog.

10th Company, 2nd Platoon
Mount Marcharius 3rd Water Tank
11:56 AM

“What’s that noise?” One of the Legionaries asked his squadmate as they kneeled behind the light cover of the water tank’s low steel rim. Their mind suddenly off the wargame, the two looked up, quickly followed by the rest of the squad. “What the hell?” One of them called out as six PDF aircraft zoomed low over their heads.

In his command tank, Lt. Schulte swallowed hard. Suddenly the Sit32 he’d heard on the Vox a few minutes ago didn’t sound like a drill. He couldn’t afford to wonder what the hell was going on. He tossed the switch for the platoon vox. “Everyone, pack up and button up.” He said, trying to keep the emergency from his voice. Around him, sergeants started yelling at their troops, getting everyone into their chimeras and ready to move out.

[Bone Fort]

Der Schwarze Mann listened carefully to Major Vanhayn's response, studying her voice carefully. Her inflection, every roll of the tongue, all of it, soaking up every detail. Then, softly to himself, he spoke.

"Vanhayn here. I'm open to discuss anything, but I haven't been able to raise the Colonel on my Comm. Let me know when you get a response from her and work something out."

It was a rather good impersonation, all things considered, but still just a little... off. His skills of vocal mimicry were commendable, but as good as he was he was still but a man, and there are limits to what imperfect humans can do. The attempt to improve those skills to perfection with an implant left a lot to be desired, seeing as it barely improved his mimicry abilities, and in fact even hurt them by adding a constant mechanical inflection to his voice, as slight as it was. The tech priest responsible said that it should've worked fine, and that the machine spirit wasn't being cooperative, but he had his doubts. How could such a tiny, little device even be so complex? He planned on getting a second opinion, but the... incident that left them here occurred before he got a chance. Honestly, if he could just turn off the constant vox sound effect for his voice, he'd be fine. But now, he'd have to catch the enemy half asleep for it to work.

Hm.

Just one m. Not two. Just one.

That actually sounds like a good idea. I could experiment with that later, screw with the other companies, keep them on their toes. Maybe whisper in their ear as the sleep... what was that called? Subliminama-... subilma-...sub- Fuck it. Another tool to use against them if they turn traitor. Besides, I could use a new hobby...

He was about to reply to the Major when he became aware of three things: first, a loud explosion; second, smoke coming from the direction of the motor pool; and third, a familiar childlike presence clutching his right leg in a death-grip, vibrating in fear. Given the lack of any more explosions, he brushed off the first two as merely a motor pool accident and focused on the third: a small cherub garbed in black robes like a tiny Grim Reaper, a carry-over from his days in the Inquisition. It was a useful little helper, but damn if it couldn't be annoying. Generally speaking, it was used to danger and loud noises, typically remaining calm and collected by his side in battles... but when outside of battle and not expecting it, the damn thing was startled by leaves falling.

"Oh, for the love of..."

He spent the next few minutes calming it down and getting it the f**k off his leg, a task easier said then done. He was contemplating getting a crowbar when it finally realized all was good and it was safe... only to immediately reaffirm its death-grip as the base erupted into activity. He sighed.

"What the hell. Was getting to quiet here anyway. So what's it this time? Rebellion, or invasion?"

His troops were smart, he didn't need to tell them himself to get ready. He raised his second in command on the vox.

"El Cucuy."
"Boss. 'pparently one of the other company commanders spotted PDF forces inbound. Expect airstrikes... personally, I blame Bala and Bauk."
"Well isn't that just perfect... Tell that to the rest of the company."

He looked upwards towards the clouds, scanning the sky for the coming aircraft. They were stationed in some barracks a little bit away from the main cluster of the base. It was unlikely that the enemy would waste ammo on such a small target, when there were the hangers and command buildings to hit... but still, you never know.

He wouldn't bother trying to contact the Colonel now. No doubt she was being overwhelmed by the calls all the other company commanders would be sending her. Instead, he would wait for whatever came first, the orders, or the bombs.

[Atelia]

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius
Open Space before the sector 4 housing


Captain Serecinius Abrukis Dari Guarkin Huanin Vanstahalin looked over the motor pool and saw that there was no issue that he need concern himself with it was clearly nothing to be considered a threat. As such Serecinius Abrukis Dari Guarkin Huanin Vanstahalin turned alongside his retinue of priest to face back at the prayer grounds which they had just previously stood and quickly ran back towards the rest of the company seeing them along the barracks walls of them Sacristan gents. The royals already took stance in squads while the serfs pooled at the entrance to our own company barracks grouping off into their perspective crusader mobs now that the priest their formation leaders have returned. With a steely resolve Serecinius Abrukis Dari Guarkin Huanin Vanstahalin called out for his royals to hold position keeping them in a position of taking cover behind various structures, and then he called for the temporary removal of company machinery from the motor pool so as to asses any potential damage done. That order led to the pilots and heavy weapons troopers to run off to the company spot in the regimental motor pool coming back a little later was several sentinels and heavy weapon carriages, engines humming along as they pulled in front of the company barracks, the serfs all ready assembled in a ring around the space in front of their housing structure.

[Aelosia]

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius
Thermidorian Quarters
Adeptus Munitorum Office
3th Company, 557th Segmentian
11:15

Bellona Bellatrix

As scared as she was, the woman almost smirked as the trained soldier sharing the office with her went under the desk. "A simple pine plank won't help if we to get a round of those" she said, remaining calm. "It's about luck, or the odds, whatever you prefer" the show was starting, as so many times before, and from the time being, she had already made up the idea to witness it from her office. "Perhaps I can serve you a measure of amasec? Leaving the premises until the bombardment is over will not be safe", she added, walking to a nearby shelf and extracting a pair of glasses and a dark bottle. "Simple or double?", she finished with the pop of a cork.


Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius
Sacristan's Quarters
3th Company, 557th Segmentian
11:15

Mary Diane Brewer

Joel Merton, Shadrach Parks, Drusilla Scott. They were all good fellas, as any of the Sacristans had proved to be so far. They were efficient, good-natured, not overly complicated, without the many open traumas that usually crippled most veteran guardmen's psyche. Mary Diane was pretty sure that it was due to their strong faith in the Emperor Church, and also because of their close ties to one another. More than a group of strangers clustered together by fate, they looked like a bunch of friends had decided to band together in the same trade. That the trade was eternal war did not seem to bother them, however, and they seemed as good at their specialty as anyone else could be at theirs. They were dedicated, hard working, and amiable, if only just a bit too much pious, but Brewer could live with that perfectly.

She was practically drooling over the fact that she was going to get to taste some of that delicious deer, and to try the flavour of that chicory root Drusilla talked about. For now on, the woman was going to have a spot on her kitchen, as they had tricks of the trade to share.

Then came the explosion. Even if she was not strictly a combatant, Brewer was way too much familiar with explosions, bombardments, fusillades, and the typical avatars of the Guardsmen's lives. But the explosion came so unexpected that she barely had the chance to feel the passing flimsy shockwave when Drusilla threw her to the ground. As a cook as she might be, she was fast. She did not even see her coming when she did that. The Sacristan had some sort of trained reflexes completely alien for a second line auxiliar as Brewer.

She saw how Nathaniel turned about and gave her the command to leave the area. Whatever it was, it could be the beginning of something dangerous, and it was better to remain with her unit. She saw how the Sacristans quickly gathered their Guard essentials and left for the woods from the base's gate, as organized and efficient as would be Brewer's company gunners when climbing into their vehicles. For sure it was better to go back to the Thermidorian quarters and tell someone where the Sacristans had went. Without looking back, but holding Drusilla's hand and giving her a stare as unspoken thanks, she left the sacristan's zone double time.


Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius
Regimental Motor Pool
3th Company, 557th Segmentian
11:15

Elizabeth Sinnett

The Thermidorian Lieutenant just nodded when she got her orders from Amsel. She was still worried about Vanhayn's orders. The Major was not usually prone to overreact from simple things, and she wondered why would had her direct superior issued a general engagement readiness alarm for something so mundane as a single explosion. It was true that it was a uncommon happening, but the cause of the explosion was already known and explained, and her bead kept reminding her that she was not at her post as the call demanded. Whatever caused the emergency, it was not what happened in the motorpool. It was something else. Sinnett felt how a cold sweat went down her spine in spite of the nice weather of the morning. Her maneuvers had not yet finished.

She had tried to warn the Commissar, but the man was pretty much clear that nothing else happened apart from the explosion of the battle cannon round, and that they were not under attack. Who was Sinnett to contradict the chief of staff of the Emperor's watchdogs of the regiment. It was better to take her own precautions and forget about anything regiment related until the emergency passed. If it passes, she reminded herself. Captain-Commissar Amsel was diligent, but for some reason, she chose to trust Major Vanhayn over this matter.

She opened her vox channel that linked her directly to the gunners of her logistics platoon. "Seal up yourselves in your vehicles. Button up. Do not leave the premises and do not unload anything. Wait for me. We will lead the convoy back to the tarmac when the alarm clears up. Until then, noone and nothing leave the box. Is that clear?", she whispered through her bead as she left the gathering of people around the motorpool and jogged quickly back to the former hangar that served as the munitions' warehouse.


Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius
Inflecto Maestus Macharius Consul tank, near the Thermidorian barracks.
3th Company, 557th Segmentian
11:10

Palatine Pyke

It was not a cacophony, there was a pattern. The pattern, however, was phonetic, and not written, and that was why no one else but Palatine Pyke could had decipher it. There was one word, one word that gave it away. Sergeant Palatine had heard it before. She had heard it at home, back at Evisor, when the Time of Troubles started. It was a sound she knew, a sound soldiers had screamed through the streets of her native city, when they had started their Pugroums against those that remained faithful to the Throne of Terra. It was a sound that the rebel Planetary Defense Force troopers had chanted in chorus as they paraded out in the evisorian streets, gunning down the servants of the Emperor before the war even started.

Xaóc, xaóc.

Palatine knew what that meant, in the hyperslav dialect developed in Evisor. She knew dozens of terms for that word. Confusa. Machafuko. Glundroöa. Huru-Hara. Anhrefn. Tulbulare. Chaos.

That word gave her the entire pattern. From then on, it was simple substitution to get to Low Gothic. The entire message she was analyzing through the comm receipt started to take form, word by word, as her fingers raced through the buttons on the letterpad of her console. Her mind raced so far to decrypt the buried meaning that her brain started to feel dizzy by the effort. Or because of something else.

Words repeated over the vox inlets. Secession. Independence. False Emperor. Phrases Palatine had heard before, phrases that made her squirm by its meaning. Or were the sounds? Something inside her mind was recoliling, disgusted, as if each word she translated was a miniature drill icing its way through her skull. She turned her stare towards her letterpad, and discovered it was covered in fine black hair. Hair that looked like her own.

Palatine grabbed a handful of her short yet once shiny black hair that fell almost to her shoulders. She tugged it a bit, with a soft movement of her wrist. Without further effort she found that her hair came out and rested on her palm. Easier than pulling out dead grass. It was not shiny anymore, it was dry and opaque, coming out in handfuls by its own. Somehow, that simple fact made Palatine nauseous, and the involuntary reflex of retching came to her in full force, although she resisted it.

Why did that happened? Stress? Anxiety? She did not have time now to find out. There was work undone, and the more mysterious it looked, the more the messages drew her to them, as if she was compelled to focus on the meanings she was cracking up. She finally started to put together the full pattern and ran the voice translator plugged into the cogigator of the vox command.

Five minutes later she was done, and with a simple glance she realized what had happened, and how the galaxy worked upon hidden mechanisms that forbid anyone to escape their own fate.

The PDF were traitors to the Imperium of Man. They had turned to worshipping the primordial annihilator, and now they were attacking the Imperial Guard garrisons as the beginning of a coup. Same scenario as Evisor, where a young, orphaned, Palatine Pyke had managed to escape massed raping on the street of young children and the crazed slaughter of civilians by the rebel military. Years later, in another corner of the galaxy, that danger had reached her again, after a long made pursuit.

She ran through empty streets filled of gunned down corpses. The corpses of fleeing families. Left luggage was lying on the streets along small fires. On the distance the chorus was heard, alongside the sizzles of lasfire. "Xaóc, xaóc", it screamed out of thousands of throats. She hugged herself with her own arms and ran to hide in a corner, her hair coming out in the handful, her long, lustrous hair falling like a envenomed rain. She was bald when the thermidorians picked her from the orphanage...

"It got me", said Pyke through her comm, back to reality, open to the rest of the crew of the Inflecto Maestus. The other operators rose their heads to take a look at Palatine, some frowning and other displaying a concerned look. Lieutenant Lester did not rose her stare from the sensor screen, that was following the course of the PDF flying formation close to the Imperial Base. The superior officer aboard the Consul did not look at the diminishing visage of her subordinate. "Do you mean you got it? Did you got the message? Cracked the code?", she just asked, trying to tune the sensors to pick up the voice transmissions coming from plane to plane.

"That...That I did", said Palatine with a grunt, as the nauseating dizziness almost overcame her again. "The PDF are traitors, Madam...", she paused here, her eyes wet with something that tried to flow freely out of them, her ears becoming shut. As her hearing faded, Palatine rose her voice, as most deafened soldiers and people did when they suddenly became unable to hear their own words. "They are coming for us. They killed the other imperial troops on the planet. Like in Evisor. They are...They are coming for us now. They...They got me..I...I will give you the matrix to translate their code", added the Evisorian comm operator as she pressed a series of keys on her letterpad.

"Get your shit together, lass", said the Lieutenant as she rose from her seat, watching how blood was coming out of Pyke's ears and raining down her cheeks. "Calm down, and explain to me what happened and how you know this", added the Lieutenant with her hands raised up, slowly taking a step towards Palatine.

"I, I can't...I...I..Got them. Tell the others, Lieutenant. Don't...Don't listen to the transmissions, just run, run the thing, the translator", added palatine as her hand went to the hip holster where her laspistol was lying, her fingers fumbling the leather strap open.

"Calm down, gunner!", yelled the Lieutenant as she rose a hand, gesturing with her eyes to the driver of the tank to slowly approach Palatine from behind. The woman was a sight of horror. Palatine's lips parted as ripped fabric as she spoke, adding more bleeding to her reddening face. Her hair was falling down freely over her shoulders, leaving her head bald with just some lumps over her skull. It was as if something was trying to blow her up from the inside out, pulsing through the evisorian trembling veins. "Calm down, we will help you" she added, waiting for the rest of the crew to get a grip on Palatine before she could draw her laspistol, breaking the spalling protocols and placing in danger the entire crew.

"You can't!", the Evisorian girl yelled again. "It followed me here. It came for me, because you saved me once and it will come again if I keep running. Just...Just look at your screen, Lieutenant. The machines will protect you, the machines will filter it out of you ears. I did it, I found it out before it could get me, and you cannot protect me. Not again. Now I can protect you. Save the others. Save the Major. Fight it back. I...I cannot run anymore, or otherwise it would make me kill you all".

The gunner of the tank was just one step away from Palatine. She would just had to come about a large console and she could grab the feverished, deluded Gunner from behind. Palatine was too fast for that to happen. She had to face the danger now, not run anymore. There was only one thing to do, to defeat her own fears and dangers. The Brave Thing. Only in Death Does Duty Ends.

She pulled her gun with a fast, trained movement, and without hesitation placed the barrel inside her mouth, pulling the trigger in the same movement, a simple press of the index finger that turned Palatine Pyke into the first thermidorian casualty of the Pan Arcadian War. By her hand and by enemy action both.

The lasbolt bounced off the internal armoured panels of the tank, miraculously not hitting any of the women standing in the command compartment before it buried itself in a secondary screen, blowing the readouts about weather prediction in a shower of sparks.

The body of Palatine Pyke came to the floor, finally at rest, as the Lieutenant's screen flickered to life with new messages.

"What in the name of the Sigilite was that?", said the driver as she kicked off the pistol from Palatine's dead fingers, and approached to check her lifeless body.

The Lieutenant forced herself to take away her stare from the dead gunner, once a partner, once a friend, once a little sister, now her face a cauterized wound of sealed and burnt flesh, fat and grey matter. Sadness was not part of duty.

"No...No idea. She...She was crying blood", added another Gunner of the crew, as the driver cradled the fallen form of the youngest of them on her arms. "She went mad".

Lieutenant Lester looked at the information that appeared in her screen, the decoded messages coming from the planes approaching the base being translated letter by letter into safe and filtered low gothic, thanks to whatever Pyke did to the logic engines of the comm cogigator before collapsing out.

"Maintain current formation. Scattered but tight. Hold steady. Corvo, adjust altitude by thirty-six plus. We're going in with a standard dive formation. On my mark, the first row dives, second follows. You all know the drill. Wait for my mark. We're almost there, boys. Flight-Lead One out."

The screen went crazy with info afterwards, showing previous messages of the PDF units on the planet, open to see what they had done and what they were about to do to the imperial base. All the pieces of the puzzle fell into place inside the Lieutenant's mind.

"Leave her there", said the Lieutenant, not from lack of compassion, but because focus on the dead was a task after the duty was done, as realization hit her face as a empowered maul in the hands of an ork nob. "Battle-stations, everyone, open all channels, we are under attack. Get me the Captains and the Major on the vox".



Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius
Regimental Motorpool
3th Company, 557th Segmentian
11:25

Victoria Vanhayn

The Salamander Scout Vehicle came to a halt with a huge screech of its brakes that forced pieces of terrain to be expelled from under its stopping treads, the rear side of the vehicle sliding and drifting towards before completely reaching a dead stop. From the open compartment the large blonde braided hair of Major Vanhayn came out, followed by her fair face, her clear blue eyes fixed on Amsel. She did not left her carriage, but Amsel could see that she had an auspex in one hand and was wielding her antique hotshot laspistol in the other. She did not salute, or offered her traditional protocol-approved greetings, but spoke inmediately.

"Captain-Commissar. Colonel. I suggest that you leave the current premises in all haste", issued the deadly serious visage of Vanhayn, with a no-nonsense expression. "There is the danger you might be going to be targeted for fragging by unknown infiltrated elements, and there is also...", she kept speaking, but her words were absolutely obscured by the whistling sound of a Sky Eagle missile passing overhead the gathering at a surprisingly low altitude, but gaining height each second it went away from the center of the base. Although the spectacle per se was surprising, Vanhayn did not even flinched, as if she was expecting the missile to pass by to start with.

Once the backwash of the sound passed over, Vanhayn restarted her declaration. "As I said, we are under attack from rebel PDF forces. The open fire order was mine and I bear full responsibility for it, Colonel Madame", she added with a nod towards the Colonel. "Squadrons are inbound and our hails and warnings were not answered, issued after intercepting hostile enemy communications, so I followed previous regimental protocols. Air assets have violated our security perimeter without answer or explanation". Suddenly, twin rays of high velocity auto cannon rounds filled the skies over their position, tracing rounds breaking the morning air towards a yet unseen target in short bursts, the interrupted yellow lines tracing fire with a far located familiar whizzing sound of autorounds being fired in a too fast mode as to recognize. After a short pause in the firing, Vanhayn continued "An air attack is vectored towards this zone, so I highly advise you return to your own companies surrounded by loyal and proven subordinates and direct effective perimeter security. I give that suggestions as your tactical advisor and no more, Lady Colonel Madame. Maximum precautions are to be taken", she added returning to her formal self and gesturing towards the empty seats on the troop compartment.



Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Outskirts of capital center of Nova Prime
Fort Macharius
1st Spitfire Battery Platoon "Trebuchets"
3th Company, 557th Segmentian
11:35

Valentine Irvine

"Flak tank, follow the track and open fire", said Captain Irvine after getting the message from the Consul Macharius Tank. It was a succinct message, broadcasted in a regimental level, reaching all the vox operators in every company active and registered in the log of the 557th Segmentian.

PDF rogue elements are conducting actions of hostile intent towards the Fort Macharius instalations. Incoming air attack, pattern Corvax-Corvax-Dorn-Khan-Macharius. Tacticae Path suggested is to take all procedures for brace against air attack and secure the perimeter as soon as possible. For all intent and purposes, all PDF units approaching site without answering to comm hails must be dealt with extreme prejudice

That would be all that the Thermidorians could do for the rest of the companies of the regiment. Warn them. There were precious seconds to spare before the entire base fell into the range of the rebel bombers. Any plane vectoring towards the still unfinished munition depot was going to be the primary target, and Irvine hoped the traitors did not had any information about the sensitive areas of the base, or they would be all resting in the lap of the Emperor before tonight. Next to her open topped Salamander Scout carriage, the massive turret of the Hydra Flak Tank under her command swiveled, pointing its massive quad gun towards the incoming planes, having acquired their targets after being flared and marked by the sensors of the Consul tank. Five seconds after the motion trackers had established the most likely trajectory for the incoming planes the guns opened up, sending torrents of fire to targets far away from simple sight, although the targeting systems installed in the thermidorian vehicles were guiding the guns towards the air formations with accuracy.

Soon the other flak tanks deployed around the thermidorian billets opened up as well, joining the surge of tracing rounds in short, well aimed bursts directed at both dropping the planes as to force them to abort too low strafing runs. Only four Sky Eagle missiles were mounted in the Manticore static turrets available, and were already fired, but the reloading process would take minutes. Soon the Sabre Gun Platforms joined the Anti Air fire as well, as the PDF aircrafts closed into the base and well into the bubble of their range, and turned the open air above the thermidorian quarters into a rattling stream of bullets, trying to cut the aerial corridors of attack into the most sensitive spots. However, there was no way such few guns with limited range could cover the entire base, and not even half of it. Against air assets, most companies would be on their own.

Irvine flicked a switch and opened another comm channel, towards the Inflecto Maestus command center, rising the volume up to eleven to be heard above the whistle and bang of the flak rounds being shot all around the place. "Lieutenant Lester, give me again those coordinates of the Purity Platoon of the Sacristans. Flak is covered, so we must stop those units in their tracks and give the infantry time to work their magic until the siege are awaken".

Lester answered in a short manner. "We have not hailed them first. Our warnings were limited to air assets. We have not warned PDF ground assets to disperse and clear the perimeter". Irvine almost smiled at the candid way of thinking of her subordinate. There were not coincidences in a galaxy of war. "No need. Engagement is absolute and so is commitment". Not willing to argue with her superior, Lester quickly gave away the coordinates asked. Irvine scrabbled them on her data slate and plugged them to the universal tacticae network built in the logic engine of her vehicle. Soon the sensors aboard the Inflecto Maestus had identified the advancing column, their speed and provided a firing solution to each and every target.

"Thank Macharius we have effective recon and spotting", said Irvine to herself over the overwhelming noise, really grateful for the early deployment of the Sacristans. She made some easy ballistic calculus given the column's speed and transmitted it to the rest of her battery. She opened the comm channels to her gunners aboard the four deployed basilisks, already extending their guns for long, indirect range. "First barrage aimed at the first vehicle. Immediate reload and switch fire to the last vehicle. That will stop them and will give our infantry the gap they need to play with them".

Ten seconds later the four Earthshaker guns opened fire, their grave shouts joining the swift rattle of the flak. Irvine got the comm-code for the Purity Platoon of the Sacristans and gave her input into the mic. "1st Spitfire Battery, 3rd Thermidorian Company here, Purity Platoon. Rounds on the air will intercept the first vehicle of the column you warned us about as soon as this message ends. Another barrage will hit between 15 and 20 seconds later the last vehicle. That column is hostile, and you must hamper their manouvers towards our perimeter in any way possible. Contact me for further artillery support may the need arise. Captain Irvine out".

[Segmentia]

Fort Macharius, Regimental Motorpool, 557th Segmentian

Colonel Victoria was about to answer the multitude of individuals around her when Major Vanhayn arrived. She listened intently up to the point where she heard and saw the Sky Eagle missile fly overhead. She closed her eyes for a moment, more of frustration then having to shield her eyes. Nothing was ever simple and quite, was it? The major continued for awhile longer, accepting any responsibility for giving the order to fire upon the inbound PDF aircraft. Asilis gave a nod. "Get me to the command center." She said, walking toward the Salamander. She stopped as she reached it and turned to Amelia. "First Sergeant, get the combat sections gathered and deploy by the main-gate. Oh, and if you see the officer of our vox-section give him a kick in the arse for me." She said. Amelia just nodded and took off, most of the platoon moving with her, though one rather large Guardsman staying behind, a guard for the colonel.

Fort Macharius, Main Admin building, 1st Company, 557th Segmentian Regiment

Lieutenant Richard Bradly was an officer fresh from the academy, having been attached just before the regiment shipped out to Pan Arcadia. Now he was standing in the regimental vox-center, comms coming in madly, his operators looking at him for answers. PDF aircraft inbound, a platoon from 14th company calling in and saying there were PDF ground forces incoming, people wanting to know why there was AA-fire going up. The young officer was dumbfounded and in all honesty panicking a bit. The color had drained from his face and he was sweating slightly and the voices of his operators sounded muffled. He wasn't expecting this at all. He had joined to fight the Orks back on the home-worlds moons. Another minute passed and then the door to the vox-center slammed open, startling everyone. Looking over, Bradly saw the First Sergeant there, las-pistol in one hand, sword in the other, held at a down angle. Emperor forgive him, but Bradly would have sworn she looked like a daemon, what with that murderous look on her face directed right at him and all.

The short woman took three strides and was standing before Bradly, who was tall, though he felt like an insect once he felt the pure anger radiating off FSgt Amelia. In this moment rank obviously didn't matter. "Lieutenant Bradly, what in the Emperor's name are you frakking doing?" Her voice was like a dire-wolfs growl. Richard tried to stammer out a response, but couldn't. Amelia just turned her back on him and addressed the operators. "Full-alert, call all hands to arms and stand-to positions. All PDF forces are marked as hostile and to be engaged." She said, several operators turned to their consoles and put out the alert, a moment later the base alarms sounded, a near piercing siren that caught peoples attention and basically conveyed the message that shit was about to hit the fan, so to speak.

One operator tuned into “Purity” Platoon's frequency, finally having orders to give the poor sods. "Purity platoon, you have permission to engage at will. Repeat, engage at will. I'm dedicating two of 1st companies Earthshakers to you. Contact them with coordinates as needed. The Emperor Protects." He said, the operator next to him on the line with the artillery detachment.

[Legital]

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius
Motor Pool

---

11:40 AM

---

Captain-Commissar Amsel stood with his hands on his hips as he looked around the now vastly empty motor pool. The situation was, for the time being, controlled. Amsel was not exactly sure why everyone had to crowd around the motor pool after the...incident, but he supposed that they were probably pent up from only being on base for such a short time. Prior to that, they were all on transports for Emperor knows how long.
Off to the distance, Amsel spotted Junior-Commissar Claus speaking to some Higaran drivers on centaurs, towing the companies heavy mortars. At first, Amsel did not think much of it until he realized, that, the centaurs were towing the companies heavy mortars. Narrowing his eyes as he watched the scene, he saw Claus wave the centaurs away, before turning around and instantly spotting Amsel.

Claus quickly jogged over to Amsel, a look of slight concern on his face. "Captain-Commissar, sir. Captain Gustav had ordered a company alert. We must have missed it ourselves over the din of all the...gathered troopers here before." Claus said, and Amsel quickly touched his commbead to adjust the volume...and sure enough, he heard the quiet chirping of an alert. Amsel sighed, deciding not to get angry over the fact that he had not heard Gustav's alert earlier. But as regimental commissar, his duties did extend much higher than his own company. Not that he was making excuses, certainly not, it was simply that his new position had to be balanced carefully.

"Claus, go ahead and hitch a ride with one of the centaurs yonder." Amsel said, motioning a few still idle centaurs with their heavy mortars in tow. "Get back to the company and perform company level duties. I commend you for being here at the start of this...mishap, but duty calls. I'll be there shortly, dismissed." Amsel said, and Claus quickly clicked his heels before jogging off to the centaurs.

Then, from his side, Amsel heard someone speak up. Amsel turned to see Captain Alexander approaching him. Amsel offered a curt nod, curious as to what the man had to say to him now. The Captain-Commissar listened to the man speak, and eyed the power sword which he had produced with slight wonder. As the man had said, it was a fine blade and all...but by the Golden Throne and the Emperor upon it...why was the man presenting it to him now, of all times? Still with a stern look upon his face, he raised his hand. "Captain, Emperor knows that I appreciate that fine work of craftsmanship you hold, but I must decline it for the time being. You come at an ill time for me, so I kindly ask that you stow the blade and return immediately to your company." He said, his tone of voice leaving no room for anything else beside a simple acknowledgment from the man as he would surely turn to leave.

In the pause in conversation, or the finish of one, rather, Amsel finally identified that somewhat rumbling noise he had heard in the background for some time now...he knew the sound as that of aircraft. Specifically, Avenger type craft with what he assumed to be some other aircraft mixed in. Now fully hearing the sound, Amsel turned his eyes to the sky to spot the aircraft...which, after a quick moment he did see them quite high up and not too terribly distant. He found himself curious as to why such a large portion of PDF aircraft were flying in this direction...but he could not come up with a decent explanation.

That was also when he heard the sound of a salamander scout vehicle roar near, and he turned to see one approach himself, the colonel, and the remaining party of scattered guardsmen at the scene. Again, his curiosity spiked at this uncalled for occurrence, Amsel found himself to be even more surprised that Major Vanhayn herself appeared from the compartment. Amsel found himself about to speak before Vanhayn had beat him to it....

Her beginning words caused a scowl to form on his face. She was suggesting that the base had been infiltrated? Again, before he could speak, a Sky Eagle missile had left it's ground position and was now soaring into the air. Captain-Commissar Amsel quickly watched the missile fly overhead, before looking back at Vanhayn as she continued speaking. Amsel listened with quiet intensity, ignoring then burst of auto-cannon rounds. The things the Major was suggesting were, quite frankly, alarming. Amsel was no fool, either, so he did not dally on the subject. He also trusted Vanhayn with his life, and he knew that she was perhaps one of the most competent individuals on base.

"Colonel, I suggest you depart immediately with Major Vanhayn. I'll depart with a Higaran centaur." He said, urgency rising in his voice. "The Emperor protects, may he watch over you all." He said, before turning and making a quick run towards the last Higaran centaur at the motor pool. As he was running, he could hear the aircraft drawing closer. The fact that, one, they had not seen this coming, and two, that it was the planetary PDF that were attacking painted an extremely worrying and alarming picture. Thumbing his comm-bead, Amsel quickly spoke into it.

"Gustav, we're in it bad. This is not a drill, and get the men to safety. Those flyers are not ours. I'll be at the billets on a centaur momentarily." He said, taking in a deep breath. "We're about to be attacked."

---

Imperial Planet Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius
Higaran 2nd Company billets

The Higaran section of the fort was slightly abuzz with activity. Upon the call to alert from Gustav to his company, the Higarans, with some reluctance as today, by all means, was supposedly a simple recreation day, had gathered their kits and formed up with their squads. Most of the Higaran guardsmen kept indoors amongst their barracks or their small administrative building as the cold air outside seemed to only get colder, and not many wanted to loiter around in the cold without any source of warmth. The chimeras which were parked outside the main billets were moved into a rough formation, all lined up and with the rear hatches open as if ready for inspection or for troops to quickly mount up within and prepare to embark.

However, outside the main billets, a group of Higaran guardsmen stood, somewhat huddled together. Their lasguns were slung over their shoulders and they had their full kits on, but all had their eyes turned up towards the sky, to the direction of Nova Prime. Captain Gustav, his arms crossed to keep warm, stood by the door to the billets, watching the guardsmen as others moved to and fro past him with quick acknowledgements. Gustav already knew what the men were looking at in the sky, as he had already seen it from the roof. The not so distant aircraft and the rising smoke columns down where the city was located. As Gustav watched the men, he saw them passing around a set of binoculars, the same set he and the other group of guardsmen were using up on the roof earlier, and the men simply continued to watch the approaching aircraft with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

"Captain Gustav, sir." A voice spoke up from behind him, and Gustav turned around to see a Higaran who he recognized as Trooper Clyde, who was quickly adjusting his rucksack front strap attachments on his belt with one hand as he used his other hand for a quick salute. Gustav nodded to the man, and the trooper spoke up. "Sir, I just got back from the roof. Some of the men had gathered there again, and, well...there is fire in the far distance. You can see the smoke from here now," the Trooper said, glancing around Gustav and up over the distant tree line outside the fort, "and, quite frankly, we think something is up. Those PDF flyers aren't much of a reassurance either." The man remarked, and Gustav did not even need to turn around to look at them as their loud droning seemed to get louder every minute.

"First off, tell those troopers to get the hell off the roof. It's not scenic time anymore. And secondly, I....well, I think something is up as well. I did not just call a company alert for a munition round going off either. But thank you for voicing your concern, Clyde. Now, go get those boys off the roof before I have to go up their myself." He said, and Trooper Clyde clicked his heels before quickly setting off back into the barracks.

What an odd day. Gustav thought to himself, Emperor above, watch over us. He thought, right as the voice of Captain-Commissar Amsel sounded in his ear. It sounded like he was...running, and Gustav quickly pressed the bead closer to his ear to hear. The words which he heard were unsettling, and Gustav closed his eyes. "Copy that, Amsel. Emperor watch over you." He said, before taking in a deep breath and adjusting his comm-bead to the company vox operator, he spoke up. "Gernor, sound full alert. Those flyer's ain't ours, and this ain't a drill." He said, and he got a quick response from the young trooper. "Yes, sir, we, uh, just got a report from the Thermidorians and I was just patching it through. I'm sounding the alert, sir."

Bringing his hand down to his holster on his belt, he unlatched the top of it and removed his las-pistol. He checked the battery pack on it, and content that it was loaded, he glanced back at the approaching flyers.

That was when he heard the distant sounds of auto-cannons and what he assumed to be flak tanks. In but a second, he saw the tracer fire rising into the sky towards the approaching aircraft. The rising cacophony of weapons fire was getting louder, and Gustav cupped a hand over his mouth. "Everybody get to cover! Wait until the flyers pass, we're under attack!" He yelled, and the Higarans outside did not need any further encouragement. Troopers from all over quickly ran for cover, many going indoors as the barracks buildings provided the most amount of cover. Others, however, who were too far from the barracks or thinking of taking cover elsewhere, scattered for other hard structures to shelter behind. A number of guardsmen ran to the chimeras, and Gustav saw the vehicles roaring to life as they scattered from their formation.

The aircraft were nearly on top of them, and with his heart pounding in his chest, Gustav quickly retreated indoors to the barracks, where many of the troopers were taking cover. Most of the older barrack buildings were made mostly out of brick and concrete...he could only hope they would hold out against the incoming bombing, because after those bombs were dropped, it was up to the infantry to get to the base perimeter and hold off from whatever ground assault would come next.

---

Imperial Planet
Fort Macharius
Above the Woodlands
On approach to the Fort

Almost, without warning, Pilken heard the alarm klaxon coming to life in his Avenger as it warned him of an incoming missile lock. His immediate instinct was that it was a mistake. How could the Imperials have figured out they were hostile so quick? The infantry on the ground could not have engaged yet because that would have meant they were at the base and in the line of fire for the aircraft.

Panicking, but maintaining himself just enough, Pilken bled his altitude greatly very quickly as he was greeted with the sight of a missile screaming not feet over his cockpit. Blinking, and his heart racing, Pilken heard the flight commander scream into his vox. "All aircraft, we have been figured out! Commence assault!" He yelled, and Pilken narrowed his sights in on the Imperial base below. Like blooming flowers, muzzle bursts of ground weapons opened up and a storm of metal was brewing up around the Avenger aircraft. The sound was terrifying, as some rounds pinged off of his wing. If that was not bad enough, he could see some rounds pass his cockpit.

Gulping, and putting his plane into a dive, Pilken saw out of the corner of his eye an aircraft that had been hit, and it was severely ablaze. The hit bird was going into a dive, but it was too sharp and it would crash into the forest below. Other planes, he saw, were taking lighter damage. One was leaking what appeared to be fluid, while several were emitting smoke. A glancing round to his cockpit brought all of his attention forward as his front windshield partly cracked. He could still see, but his targeter was completely ruined. Adjusting the throttle and control, Pilken hovered his thumb over the release button as he was just over the base and a building. Allowing his training to take over, he hit the release and his two bomb payload was released.

But as he was pulling up, his bird rocked like someone with enough force punched the bottom of the aircraft, and then he found that he could not raise in altitude. Frantically adjusting his controls, he found that whatever had hit him had completely knocked him out. Unable to fully control his plane, he was becoming a target for gunners and he looked frantically to his left and right as rounds punctured the wings of his aircraft. Unwilling to eject in a hail storm of fire, Pilken did the only thing he thought could keep him alive.

Attempting to guide his aircraft in towards the runway, Pilken activated his landing gear...only to find that the console said that either it would not deploy, or that he had lost his console lights as well and that it simply would not say his landing gear was deploying. Cursing, Pilken tried to glide his bird towards the tarmac. Rounds continued to eat away at his plane, and he was only glad that none had pierced from below into the cockpit yet.

But his mild sense of reassurance was gone as the tarmac was not feet away, and he pulled up with all of his force to level the bird out as it would make it's crash landing. If he survived, he would have to be quick or the ground forces would be all over him as soon as the bombs stopped falling...that is, if he himself did not get hit with a friendly bomb.

In but a second, his bird hit the tarmac with a terrible screech as the metal met the tarmac and the force of the plane carried him down it. His wings were a complete mess, and fire began to eat up around them and the bottom of his bird. The slide down the tarmac was extremely rough, and Pilken had let go of his controls to simply brace himself as his bird spun on the tarmac as it slid. When it came to a stop, he instantly went to release the hatch of his cockpit...to no avail. He slammed the release again, and nothing happened. Gulping, he reached for his laspistol and thought about shooting it out, but he decided against that.

All he could do was beat at the canopy, hoping it would break or pop open. If the Imperials get me, he worried, I will be so frakken frakked.

All over the base, high-explosive bombs were dropped by the swarm of avenger aircraft. In turn, many of the craft took hits and fell from the sky, raining down into the forest or down into the base. A number of planes simply exploded in mid air, raining down pieces.

---

Imperial Planet
Fort Macharius
Woodlands
On approach to the Fort

The PDF chimeras had come to a halt along the road around a ridgeline as they allowed the bombing to continue. But, as they were so quietly waiting, several explosions had suddenly began to detonate around them. The lead chimera had, in seconds, took a direct hit and literally exploded into metal and human pieces. Fearing an ambush, as a cry of alarm went on over their vox systems, the front chimeras pushed on past the burning wreck, while many of the rear chimeras had their hatches popped, releasing their squads of olive drab PDF.

The distant bombardment of the Imperial base was rather loud, as from their position, the outer gate of the base could be seen through the thick of the trees. The released PDF troopers, all armed and in full battle kit, held their weapons at ready. Sergeants ordered their men around, and the men quickly got organized into their respective squads.

Evidently, orders were being sent across their vox waves as troopers began to make moves into the forest. The chimeras from the front of the convey, which pushed ahead to escape the bombardment, appeared to be safe for the time being, as their troops disembarked as well. However, the artillery rounds appeared to be zeroing in, and near the end of the convoy, still sitting below the ridge, began to take hits from the artillery. Two rounds had landed on the road, obliterating an entire squad of PDF and damaging a chimera.

Knowing that the road was not safe, the PDF troopers quickly began to fan out deeper into the forest, but towards the Imperial base. Attempting to escape the light bombardment, three squads quickly trekked towards the ridge line.

[Lunas Legion]

"By the Emperor, what have we done to deserve this..." Commisar Guibbet muttered to himself as he gazed into the crater where 3rd Platoon had once been standing. The Hakaroni, fully aware of the devastating power of air support having witnessed Valkyrie and Vendetta ground strikes many times during their service, had scattered once the first bomb exploded, but some had not been quick enough.

The 3rd Platoon had been utterly destroyed; firstly a lone bomb impacted directly behind their ranks, causing them to scatter, but they were then wiped out by the explosion from the crashing Avenger that smashed into them and exploded in a violent blast of ammunition and fuel.

"It is a grim day when Hakaroni find themselves on the defensive with no extraction, is it not Commissar?" Lieutenant Pavelum asked as he stepped up beside Guibbet. "Count another 40 men or so out, but at least they'll be burning for vengeance in His name."

---

Motorpool

Captain Berhalm sighed with relief as he saw the pair of Tauros' roar across the runway towards their barracks, trailed by a lone Sentinel. As the lead Tauros pulled up next to him he clambered on, hanging onto one of the side rails, before he asked "Stegs, what happened to the other Sentinel?"

Stegs, the driver, shrugged as he swerved around a small crater. "Dunno Captain, think the blast blew the power plant up. We got the Bulls out though, so all is well."

---

Within minutes, the Tauros' and lone Sentinel had linked up with the battered but intact infantry part of the company and waited for further orders. They were drop troopers; they were supposed to be raiding and attacking, not holding defensive positions.

[Saragrossa]

Pan Arcadia
Fort Macharius/ Outside Barracks
8th Company - The " Iron Ladies "
1st Mordian Heavy Infantry - 1st Command Platoon

---

An explosion was heard overhead as Agustina looked up and saw the sky fill up with bombs and ordnance. Her first glance was at the fort which took a great hit to the Motorpool and she heard explosions erupt from the base.

The First platoon had begin doing drills outside in full gear and this might have saved them. Agustina quickly ordered her platoon to gather around her and do a quick one two to make sure everyone was combat focused. She huddled around her platoon which consisted of 14 ladies and herself and she grabbed her sergeant and told her to radio in to the base and to the rest of the company and get their asses outside.

" Ladies, whatever is going on. We are combat ready, combat active. Follow my lead and hold the line " She yelled at her squad as the signals officer gave the cue that PDF forces were now hostile. She clutched her hellgun and saw that east entry for the barracks lead directly into the woodlands but there was several roads which ran through valleys.

Rather then fill out the valley's entrance with her squad which would be instantly overwhelmed by the superior numbers that PDF would mostly throw at them. They would camp out at the last ridge which as the base of the entrance and hold the line should the PDF throw any forces at them.

Her Platoon consisted of 2 Las cannons, A grenade launcher, a Melta gun and a Heavy Bolter and ten other Mordian ladies with Hell guns so they grabbed their gear and rushed to the road to prepare their heavy weapons and hold the line should they come through the east.

She ordered her sergeant to get a direct line to the barracks and to her company. The Sergeant who doubled as the signal's comm officer opened a secure channel on a uncommon channel and called out for a status check for the Mordian company which had been indirectly impacted by the bombardment. One platoon was unaccounted for however the ladies had mobilized and were given orders to regroup at the valley and to hold the line. Sergeant Mendez was given issue to take command for the unit.

---

The very slender but quick witted Sergeant Mendez sprung into action. She immediately ordered her sisters to grab their weapons and full gear with full rations and to rendezvous with Agustina's first platoon to mount a defense of the eastern board.

She also personally raced over to the 12th Company's barracks - Die Schwarzen Männer and to inform them to spread the word that Mordians would hold the Eastern entry and that they should link up with them to make sure the defense was adequate. The Mordians had a plethora of heavy weapons they could utilize and they would bring it to bare against any enemies taking the eastern entry which would be mostly infantry squads in light armor which their weapons would makes short work of.

The Mordians had 29 Chimera's were located to the east of the 12th Company in the unmarked hangers which meant most of them escaped the bombardment rather easily but she ordered the operators and tankers to quickly rather their full gear and get them operational case in they needed to abandon the fort and get out of here.

She ordered them to be skeleton crews, of just driver and one crew member so 58 Mordian ladies detached and headed towards their vehicles to get them fueled up and combat operational. The Sergeant then gathered her force and left the entry to meet up with her Lieutenant who was hastily preparing a makeshift defense at the valley ridge.

She ordered her platoon to take up firing positions. Each of the platoons carried Two Las guns, or a Las gun with a grenade launcher with a heavy flamer accompanying it with every platoon carrying either a heavy bolter or a melta gun.

The Mordians really emphasized heavy weapons and packed enough heavy weapons to take on most armored companies and grind them down. The Mordians took up a loose formation. They sparsely placed themselves on the ridge to cover more firing space. They waited until the valley filled up with PDF forces who began to unload and prepare their assault on the base. It’ve must have been over twenty five chimeras and various armored infantry carriers. The men were equipped with standard las guns and they unloaded their squads and prepared to strike the Eastern entry.

---

After a quick head count by the sergeant Mendez, she took firing position beside Lieutenant Agustina. After the detachment of soldiers which relocated to get the chimerias in order and the casualties from the bombing, the Mordian 8th company was at 270 Strong. 19 had perished with one mortally wounded which was given a coup d’grac which brought the death toll to 20 soldiers before they even saw combat.

Agustina was told the numbers and informed that the 8th squad was completely elimated. This shook Agustina who considered her troops to be her children and despite having the veil of toughness around her, she felt somewhat cold and alone. She took a deep breath and gathered herself and she knew she had to keep up the resolve and courage, not just for her but for her soldiers.

The Valley began to fill up with hundreds of PDF’s soldiers as they prepared their three pronged attack as it seemed against the base. Bomb it, then hit it at every side and overwhelm the Imperials but Agustina rose from the ground and called out.

“ In the name of the Emperor. Let justice be done upon you! “ She cried out and rose her hell gun and began to open up. Within that blistering moment, the Mordian 8th company roared out, unleashing a unpresented wave of cry against the beleaguered and surprised PDF forces.

The Las cannons ripped apart the Chimera’s with ease as a hail of heavy bolter pinned down various squads.

The Mordians were able to spread out pretty evenly and were able to place heavy bolters and las cannons in direct view of each other to overlap the firing. This was a standard drill and their constant training how proved how effective the ladies could be.

They laid down a steady stream of hell gun fire as the 8th company used the melta guns and grenade launchers to smash holes in cover and expose the PDF forces while the heavy bolters kept their soldiers suppressed.

It was a massive fire fight and Agustina then ordered any soldiers carrying frags to toss them into the valley below. The entire valley was now scorched in flames as their initial surprise wore off and now the PDF forces were throwing numbers at them. Despite being on the high ground and having superior equipment and arguly training, they did have limitations on their number and munitions as it became clear that PDF had brought a serious force to the base and now they were facing the brunt of a PDF attack force.

The Mordians chewed up the units initially but disabling and crippling various vehicles. The Rebels would use them as cover and it became apparent without any support. The Mordians couldn’t hold the position forever.

Agustina then called out to her comms officer and she opened up a new secure channel.

Agustina took the receiver and issued an COD; “ Calling Imperial forces. 8th Company has engaged enemies at the East Entry. Request support and backup. We are holding the valley but we require assistance. Numerous enemies, lightly armored, light weapons. We need support, over. “ Agustina then sent out the message to nearby units, hoping some other companies were still in fighting shape.

[The National Dominion of Hungary]

Fort Macharius, Planet Pan Arcadia
Corporal Wolodmierz Hrodnawicz


The message that had reached the Lesznii vox-operator struck the man as a merciless hammerblow. Under attack?! From the frakkin´ PDF!!! It made no sense! But the screaming jets of military aircraft grew ever louder and louder, so the corporal raised his commander. "Mi´lord Major, there is reply from the Thermidorians, I will play it back to you immediately." After a short silence, the ever calm, confident, and some would say nonchalant tone of this commander sounded from the speaker. "Well then, order all to take cover until the air-raid is over, sound full alert." And then an ear-shattering cacophony of AA-fire mixed in with the wailing jet-engines. Hrodnawicz looked out through the window and noticed the enemy aircraft, they were much closer than he had anticipated, and the were getting closer by the second as anti-air missiles and tracer rounds hurtled up to greet them. The Corporal threw his attention back to the vox-set in front of him. "Hrondawicz to all units, take cover, I say again, take cover. Air-raid incoming, this is a company-wide alert. All PDF forces are to be considered hostile until further notice. I say again..."

No man would ever know what Hrondawicz planned to say again. The bombs started falling, their explosions shook the building, the Corporal took a quick glance toward the window, seeing trooper rushing in all direction to get to cover. His own stormed into their barracks or threw themselves down into the nearest ditch as they were to far from their barracks. In the distance he noticed a collection of guardsmen running towards him. Aye, he recognized them as Lesznii, they had propably been socializing with some of the other companies or checked the accident at the munitions depot. Run damn you... And run they did, but it did not save them as one of the bombs fell, shrouding them in flame and shrapnel as they were catapulted into the Emperor´s embrace. The Corporal did not have time to damn the situation as a second bomb fell, shattering the window.

Hrodnawicz´s gaze turned into a reddish-black chaos. Pain seared through the man as he fell from the chair and crashed down upon the floor. He could barely make the screaming of his own voice in the merciless cacphony of battle as he raised his hands towards his face, only to feel it slick with blood and dotted with small, sharp objects. Glass, frakkin´ no! Nonono!
Another wave of searing pain coursed through him, eliminating any capability of thought, no matter how frenzied.

Lieutenant Rebeckah Waszielewska

The thunderstorm of battle raged beyond the walls of the barracks. The lieutenant and over a hundred Lesznii soldiers were huddled in the brick building the called home while the explosions shook them and the building itself. They were ready for battle, once the air-raid was done, the enemy would come in force to make and end to them. Rebeckah looked around her, the lip of many of her comrades moved, eventhough the heard no words, they all prayed silently, frantically. So that if one of the bombs crashed in through the roof to incinerate them, they could go to the Emperor with a prayer upon their lips. As for the young lieutenant, she did not pray. She was nothing but angry, she only wished to be out there, to return fire and strike back at the enemy. If there was anything Rebeckah hated, it was the feeling of being powerless.

Suddenly, one of the explosions shook them all to the core, the windows flew in and the screaming became real and immediate. Rebeckah opened her eyes and through the shattered windows she could see only smoke. Oh, by the Emperor. It was as if an icy hand clenched her throat. The second barracks! Had they taken a full hit?! The thought was frightening. So very frightening. But she breathed a sigh of relief as the smoke was finally blown away by wind and shockwave. Only a small portion of the wall had collapsed, other than that the building was intact. Praise the Throne! She was propably not the only one who thought the exact same words.

May it only end soon...

[Norvenia]

NATHANIEL

Woodland
Near Fort Macharius
“Purity” Platoon, 14th Company, 557th Segmentian

Lydia glanced up at me and nodded once. "We're cleared to engage," she said quietly.

I took a deep breath and touched my com-bead; on the platoon frequency, I didn't need Lydia's vox-caster to transmit orders."All Purity units," I announced, "move to positions along the ridge at grid coordinates B12 to F14. We have hostile traitor PDF units approaching in force. We're going to set up on the ridge overlooking the road along which they are advancing and hit them before they reach the fort."

There were brief clicks of confirmation from Edna, Ahab, and Margaery, and I knew that the rest of my platoon was moving through the woods to meet me. I remember feeling some important realization niggling at the back of my mind, but to this day I can't for the life of me say what it was. Because before I could put my finger on it, the battle began.

I felt rather than heard the bombs begin to fall; the ground to my west abruptly shook, a faint vibration. I turned to look, my helmet brushing against the ferns of the forest floor, and saw distant plumes of fire start to rise beyond the trees, near the barely-visible fortress gate. Then came the sound, a dull roar of high explosives, and the ground vibrated more strongly still.

When our artillery opened up, at first I thought that the PDF had spotted us and was somehow bombing us, too; there was a whistling shriek of incoming shells, and then the ground didn't just shake - it bucked like a wild horse, and the sound was a physical thing, a roaring shockwave that rattled my bones and shook the skin of my exposed face. When I glanced over the ridge-top again to the column of vehicles at the bottom of its opposite slope, I could see that the lead Chimera was wrecked; some other Chimeras were pushing past it, while others disgorged their occupants - PDF in olive drab. As I watched, a high-ex shell landed directly on top of one squad; when I had finished blinking the flash out of my eyes, there was nothing left of them but a few scraps of green cloth.

A light tap came on my shoulder, and I turned. Behind me crouched Ahab Purcell, Edna Thatcher, and Margaery Sexton. Edna, grim-faced, shook her head. "Rebel PDF?"

I nodded quietly. Ahab turned and spat disgustedly into the undergrowth. I leaned forward. "Listen. This is the ridge." I sketched it with my bayonet in the dust at my feet, a long formation of contour lines. "We're at the top of the ridge, here. Halfway down the ridge from us, the road is cut into its slope, here. That means that the Chimeras have to stay on the road - they can't go up or down the mountainside itself. In fact, they probably can't even elevate their turrets enough to fire on our position; we're too directly above them. So to get to our position, the PDF have to get out and assault straight uphill to the top of the ridge." I shrugged. "We've got the ground, and just like Brother Cromwell always says, it's the land that wins battles." I pointed down the line of the ridgetop. "Sister Edna, take Purity Three to the south end of the ridge. Purity Two and Purity One will stay here in the middle. Purity Four, head to the north end of the ridge. Purity Five, let's have a heavy bolter team at each end of the ridge and the lascannon here in the center." I raised my eyebrows. "All right?"

Each of the sergeants nodded, and moved away. I wormed my way, prone, back up to the ridge top and studied the situation. Only three enemy squads were moving directly toward the ridge top, but far more were easily in sight from our position; from atop the ridge, we could see the whole sweep of the road and woodland from the fortress gates down to the valley below. Essentially every PDF unit was in view. Land wins battles, that's what Cromwell says. Position is everything.

I unslung my lasgun. A Sacristan lasgun was a unique weapon; walnut-stocked, with brass and chrome fittings, it was a work of art. More than that, though, it was a work of supreme craftsmanship. Slightly longer than a regular lasgun, Sacristan weapons could fire only on semi-automatic, but each round packed a punch roughly equivalent to a regular lasgun on maximum power. More importantly, the weapons were hand-made to be tremendously accurate, to ranges of a mile and more; and each Sacristan lasgun was fitted with a variable-zoom scope to make the most of this. Essentially, it was a designated-marksman weapon - not a long-las proper, but with many of the capacities of a long-las in a form that could also function fairly well at close range.

Now, with all of Purity Platoon in position along the ridgetop - still undetected by the PDF below - twenty-eight such lasguns were aimed down at the traitors, alongside Purity Five's two heavy bolters and one lascannon; the heavy weapons teams had patiently hauled the disassembled pieces of those weapons through the forest, and then reassembled them in mere minutes. Now they were dug in behind fallen trees or boulders, ready to fire down on the road below. In five minutes, we had turned the ridgetop into a fortress, perfectly positioned to rain down fire on the flank of the advancing foe. If they wanted to reach Fort Macharius, they would first have to get rid of us, and the only way to do that would be to charge uphill, on foot, right into our field of fire.

It was time to punish them. I took a deep breath, and then spoke into my microbead: "Fire for effect."

All along the ridgetop, the Rangers opened up. Accurate semi-automatic lasgun fire scythed into the three advancing enemy squads, rounds aimed with sniper-like precision for heads and chests. The high-power las-rounds, blurs of electric-blue light, could punch through PDF flak armor with relative ease. Alongside them, three long-lases, deadly in the hands of squad snipers, picked off PDF officers - both among the advancing squads, and among those trying to reach the fortress gate. Grenade launchers rained frag rounds into the PDF units just beginning to dismount from their Chimeras, scything them with shrapnel while they were still packed close together and unable to seek cover. And Margaery Sexton's heavy weapons began to boom: two heavy bolters swept lines of high-explosive fire back and forth over the advancing PDF like a scythe moving back and forth through wheat, while a single lascannon sent thundering beams of blue light down to skewer the Chimeras when they stopped to unload their troops. In a heartbeat, the whole ridgetop was suddenly lit by the crackling light of carefully aimed fire from dozens of different weapons, their users all camouflaged and ensconced behind the trees and boulders and logs that covered the terrain. For the PDF below, it would be as if a small army had somehow appeared almost directly over their heads.

For my part, I took aim through my scope at a PDF trooper in one of the advancing squads. The aiming-dot hovered over his head, just below the line of his helmet. I let out half my breath, and gently squeezed the trigger; the walnut stock of my lasgun thumped my shoulder, and I thought I saw him fall. The first kill, I thought - and somehow, rather than giving me a sense of pride, the realization only made me feel unutterably sad.

[Morrdh]

5th (Morridane) Company Billets, Sector One, Fort Macharius

"AIR RAID!" Somebody somewhere cried out as explosions thundered around the fort and the alert sirens started to wail, most of the Morridanes had been in the process of gathering their kit for an inspection on the parade square and had been struck dumb by the unexpected turn of events. A second passed before the realization that they were actually under attack sunk in and the Muckers started moving out of their billets and scrambling for whatever cover or ditch they could find, NCOs barked out orders that where effectively pointless.

It was a mad flight, everyone for themselves.

Captain Stormwell had been waiting outside the billets when the cry rang out and the sirens started, his legs were already moving before he'd even had the chance to think. There would be time later to ask who was attacking them, right now seeking some sort of cover was higher up his list of priorities as the bombs fell ever closer to the Morridane part of the fort. He'd just reached a drainage ditch when a bomb came down on one of the billets, destroying the building in a roaring fireball that sent Stormwell flying before everything went black.

---

Munitions Store 011, Fort Macharius

"Oh bloody hell!" Cursed a Morridane soldier. "We're under attack!"

He was one of the Muckers detailed by Sergeant-Major Midnightte to move some equipment into the old munitions bunkers, a relic from the fort's old days as an airbase when the bunker stored bombs similar to the ones now being dropped upon it. Given the bunker's former usage it was suited away from the main buildings of the fort, a minor bit of fortune for the Morridanes as they were also away from the areas being bombed. But there was little to do except sit out the raid and hope their Cargo-8 trucks wouldn't be noticed by whoever was attacking the fort.

[Bredtonia]

Sgt. Saoul
10th Company, 1st Platoon, 3rd Squad
Fort Marcharius 2nd Runway, “Little Armageddon”

Sgt. Saoul was hunkered down with the rest of his troops in the third squad chimera. He and his squad had been unfortunate enough to draw the position at the end of the run way closest to the incoming attack wave, and there was nothing they could do for it but face the extra thick front armor that direction and pray to the Emperor for deliverance. And pray they did, alongside all the others in the company who were listening to company chaplain leading the faithful over the rec-vox system in their chimeras.

Saoul closed his eyes and thought of the Emperor as the bombing started. Moments later, he felt the APC shake as the first of the bombs pierced their shrouding fog and fell among the 10th company. He heard the sounds of metal crashing and smattering along the rockcrete runway. He prayed it was the sound of planes the AA guns had shot down, and not the sound of bomb destroyed Chimera fragments raining back down on them. Finally, after an eternal minute, the bombing stopped.

As the echo of the bombs died down, Sgt. Saoul heard the Leutentant call over the vox for a conditions update. Saoul looked around at his men before answering that they were still there, with no wounded or dead. Even while Saoul was talking, the driver opened the small vision slit at the front of the APC. “Um, Sarge?” he started as he noticed something he really had not expected, “There’s a plane out here with the pilot still in it. Alive.”

Saoul climbed up into the turret and adjusted the weapon-linked sight until he saw the same thing. “Well, damn.” He paused for a moment, the rest of the squad looking to him. “Let’s go get him. Maybe the Colonel beat some info out of a prisoner.”

The sergeant slid down from the turret, his place taken over by the corporal tank commander, and got his squad formed up behind him. He punched the hatch-release button and as soon as there was enough room, lead his ten man squad running out around each side of the chimera and over to half-landed aircraft. In the matter of a few seconds, with the bombs cleared but the smoke still drifting, third squad had a half dozen rifles pointed at the fallen traitor, with the rest up and looked around to make sure they weren’t being ambushed. Feeling a little more secure, Saoul looked around for some kind of emergency cockpit release system. He eventually found one, a red pull lever. The locks released and with the help of another guardsman, he was able to lift the glass canopy off the insurgent. Moving quickly he tried to take the pistol away from the pilot, less out of concern for his own safety as prevention for the man taking his own life.

Saoul got on the vox and called up to the Lieutenant. “Sir, we have an enemy pilot here, alive and captured.”

Enginseer Mikel
10th Company, Mechanicus Attaché
Fort Marcharius Open Tarmac
11:54 AM

As the party around the exploded ordinance broke up, Mikel started making his way on foot across the airbase and back to the 10th company’s home ground. He got as far as the open tarmac when his wondering attention was suddenly pulled into the present by the wail of air raid sirens. Not expecting them, nor knowing what they were, Mikel startled and stood frozen for a split second. It was enough to still be there when the first bomb dropped.

The explosion, some distance away and covered by the building it landed next to, shook Mikel out of his shock. He quickly looked around and bolted for the first piece of cover he could see, a door into a small administration building. It was locked. He ran some more. He heard the bombs get closer. There was a loud bang, the feeling of flying, and everything went dark.

Sgt. Bryant
10th Company, Company Staff
Thermidorian Quarters
Adeptus Munitorum Office

“A shot would be wonderful.” Bryant replied as he stood up again, unsure if the Munitorum girl was warming up to him, of just trying to hide the fact she needed a drink to steady her own nerves. He attempted to follow up with a question to explore that topic, but all attempted words were drowned out by the sounds of Air Raid sirens. Bryant blinked a couple of times, just when he though he’d been being paranoid over nothing.

“Get down, away from the glass!” He yelled, trying to usher Bellatrix down behind the desk or other hard cover. He moved to keep himself between the window’s glass and the girl, knowing his standard flak coat should stop any flying glass or shrapnel. Should being the operative word.

Lt. Schulte
10th Company, 2nd Platoon, Command
Mount Marcharius Forest, Water Tank 3

“Sergeants, I want everyone in their chimeras and ready to move, now!” Schulte called into his vox. Around them the platoon was nearly deafened by the sounds of nearly seven dozen aircraft buzzing low overhead as they dived in turn on the base just up the mountain. If it was just sound, it would be bad enough, but the regiment’s Anti-aircraft guns were scoring the occasional deadly hit against the incoming enemy forces, and the second platoon was getting to see the results of such strikes first hand as the wreckage rained down on them.

There was a particularly loud scream of engines as one of the dive bombers, starboard engine on fire and canopy blown open by hydra fire, came down full throttle, both bombs still firmly attached to the underside of the wings. It impacted just feet away from the water tower, and was almost instantly consumed in a massive fireball as the bombs, autocannon rounds and remaining fuel combusted in short order. Squad three, the squad that had just moments before distinguished itself by claiming cover on top of the water tank during the Lieutenant’s exorcise, was lost to the man, fractured or burned to death in an instant. Squads two and four were luckier, they were on the far side of the water tank. The water absorbed the heat and shock wave, but was itself launched into a massive surge that washed out the ground around the chimera and sent a few members of the squad sliding downhill in a muddy river. As the torrent washed out and ended, it was only the gasmask’s recycled air that kept them from drowning.

When it all came to an end, the Lieutenant checked in with the Commander, knowing that despite his casualties, his platoon’s position outside the base could be critical in the coming minutes. Assuming the worst, that the PDF would send infantry up the road to finish the slaughter the bombers had started.

LCMR Dominic Marki
10th Company, Company Command
Fort Marcharius Main Administration Building

Dominic grabbed on to the side of the salamander with the practiced ease of someone who’s ridden chimeras for their entire military career. He’d originally intended to just use as an express most of the way back to own company, but the aircraft and bombs came in faster than he could have anticipated. By the time they were far enough along the flight strip, it was quickly being covered in the artificial fog generated by the single-use smoke launchers that came standard on all Imperial Chimeras. Even with the still air of the mountain midday, the smoke would only last a little over a minute, which meant the aircraft were only seconds away from starting their bombing run. It also meant, very distinctly, that there was no way for Dominic to get back to his command chimera. Even if he could find the vehicle in the smoke, which would be a feat in and of itself, he’d never make it before the bombs started dropping.

Instead he simply yelled out that the air raid was incoming, held on tight as the salamander started to jink back and forth in an attempt to make itself a more difficult target. It seemed a miracle of the Emperor the salamander avoided being hit. As the deafening explosions stopped, the vehicle came to an abrupt stop outside the administration building. It seemed he was going to be alongside the regiment’s Colonel for a little while longer. To think, less than an hour ago he’d arrived to ask permission to perform a more extensive readiness drill for his own company. Somehow he didn’t think they’d need one anymore. With no option but to stay with the Colonel, he kept his head down and just prayed he’d survive.

A couple of minutes later, when the bombing finally stopped, he shook the ringing out of his head and listened to his Lieutenants check in. In an ironic turn of events, second platoon – the one platoon not even in the base - had faired the worst losing thirteen men and one chimera with another five injured. The other platoons were reporting in no only injuries from the occasional penetrating bomb fragment. The Chimeras were a different story however. Although none were obviously wrecked, I’d be too much of a risk to move any of them before they were checked over by an Enginseer.

As was his duty, he informed the Colonel of the state of his forces. He know they’d be needed in moments, when the real fighting started.

“Ma’am, my chimeras are immobilized, but men are mostly intact. You should also know second platoon is on the old fire road outside of the base walls – they could move to support the Sacristans. Also,” Dominic's eyebrows furrowed, though none would be able to see it under the mask, "It appears we've captured an enemy pilot."

(Edit: Forgot a line, Adjusted to mesh better with Aelosia's)