The Emperor's Finest: Korinthia (IC)

[Bolslania]

Colonel Korster

"All units, set up lascannons and open fire on enemy positions, over." He said into his vox-box, he was on the Cadian frequency, so only they could hear him. He saw men setting up their lascannons and fortifying with sandbags.

"Copy that, what is the plan? Over." He heard a lieutenant reply over the comms. Korster, as he was looking around, replied.

"The plan is to support the advancing AFVs and infantry with direct fire from lascannons and small-arms, focusing on towers and the walls, over." The men he was with unfixed their bayonets to improve accuracy and leveled their lasguns at the fortress.

"Understood, over." Came the reply. Korster looked around, saw that everyone was ready, and clicked transmit on the vox-box.

"All units, fire at will." Immediately the assembled lascannons and lasguns on full auto opened up into the walls and towers of Fort Travium. Traitors fell off the walls or were disintegrated by the withering fire. Korster handed the radio off to a lieutenant, who immediately shouted out targets for the lascannoners. Meanwhile, Korster went to the command tent. He stepped inside, and it was a jumble of communications from other units and command, Korster went over to his hologrid map, after reviewing it for a moment, he turned to a comms officer.

"Send this message to all units attacking the fortress." The comms officer punched the appropriate buttons and handed the mike to to the colonel, who clicked on the "Transmit".

"Boxer 8 reformed, now providing direct fire support, if you wanna move in, this would be the time, over." He set down the mike and went back to the holomap.

Corporal Cupphon Cane

"Fox 4, hit that tower, on the left!" Cane looked out of his sight picture and looked for the tower, his spotter whacked him on the shoulder and pointed at it, binocs fixed on it, Cane swiveled the lascannon around onto the tower, aiming for the middle portion. He squeezed on the trigger, and the bolt of red slammed into the tower dead on. The tower held for a minute, a gaping hole in it, Cane looked at his spotter, who shrugged, as they looked back, they saw it tip over and fall, traitors being flung out of it, onto the fortress below in a cloud of dust. Cane nodded his approval, he and his spotter started scanning for new targets, when their was a scream from behind them, they quickly looked, and wished they hadn't. Guardsman Jenkins had been hit by a lasgun blast directly in the gut, blowing his intestines out of his body, but they were still attached to him, he was screaming horribly, nothing coherent, because his throat was drowning on his blood, but a horrible choked scream of agony. It didn't stop, Cane and his spotter stared in horror at the dying man, unable to take their eyes off of him, or more specifically, his exposed intestines and guts. Sgt. Clustorn snapped out of his stare and shot Jenkins in the forehead, releasing him from his agony. He turned to them with a 1,000 yd stare.

"Resume firing when ready." He said blankly and turned back to shooting at the fortress. Cane turned to the fortress, his lascannon was almost charged again, so he looked at the fortress. It was like a picture from hell. Things were burning, streaks of lascannon and lasgun fire were pouring into and out of it as the fort returned fire. As Cane watched, a huge explosion racked the fortress, sending traitors flying off onto the cold, hard ground below. Cane was watching, when suddenly, a lascannon blast whizzed by his head, impacting the dirt behind his hole, sending dirt and debris into the river and onto the ducking Cadians. As Cane got back up, his spotter said

"I've got them in my binocs, and the lascannon's charged up, I'll direct your shot." Cane nodded and gripped the lascannon with both hands, focusing his eyes on his sights. His spotter directed him.

"Up, left.....little bit right, FIRE!" The Lascannon went off with a bang, slamming into the enemy lascannoners, it sent a plume of fire and debris into the air, presumably killing the crew. By now the fort had become aware of their presence, and was displeased, because lasgun and assorted other weapons began to open up into the sandbagged Cadians, Cane ducked under the withering fire, picking up his lasgun and blind-firing in an act of defiance. A lieutenant was roadi-running around, getting his men to return fire, he yelled at Cane.

"Come on man! Return fire!" Cane replied "Yes,sir!" and resumed control of the lascannon firing it into a clump of heretics, who, if they weren't disintegrated, were flung off of the wall by the explosion.

[Britanania]

0851 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Near Fort Travium

The only sounds that run in the Guards' ears were the Krieg artillery pounding the already battered walls of the island fort. In less than 15 minutes the Arrageois forces, supported by the Cadian AT troopers, reached Fort Travium. The lack of enemy gunfire on the way over clued them in that the evacuation order heard was in fact not a diversion or a trick, but a genuine order. The only ones left in the fort itself were the dead and wounded. As for the wounded, the order was clear: no quarter. Every corpse was given the bayonet, just to be sure, and anyone suspected of being alive was given the same treatment. Not even the wounded militia from the earlier attack against the Cadians and Morridanes near the bridge were spared.

Meanwhile, so his men weren't bombarded into the Warp, d'Orleans ordered his vox-casters to send word to the Krieg to halt the bombardment.

"Gravediggers, Gravediggers, do you copy? This is Black Eagle One. We're going to need you to quiet those guns, we're the enemy is nowhere in sight. Over."

---

0945 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Fort Travium

As the Arrageois and their allies began setting up their defences of both the fort and the southern bridge--anything to bolster their position before the enemy launched a counter-attack--movement along the southern bank of the Erkalion alerted the outer patrols. D'Orleans, who was setting up a makeshift headquarters, was quickly informed of the development. The aristocratic soldier frowned.

"A vast multitude of refugees you say? We can't let them cross, we don't have the resources to shelter or feed them, and with that many, we can't be sure there aren't enemy forces with them." D'Orleans violently smashed his hand on a nearby table.

"Merde, this was their plan along with this evacuation, wasn't it? Tell the guards to keep them from crossing at all costs."

0948 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta


The vox-caster signal officers informed Marshal d'Arras of the developments near the fort, including the hordes of refugees. The elder officer shared his subordinates apprehension, of course, and was certain that the heretics were planning something.

"Get me into contact with the high command, ASAP," he barked to one of the nearby vox-casters.

"Aquilla, Aquilla, this is Black Eagle Zero, do you copy? We have a situation near the southern bridge. Civvies are trying to cross, they stink of heresy and we are refusing them access. Do you have further instructions? Over."

[Bolslania]

0851 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Near Fort Travium

The only sounds that run in the Guards' ears were the Krieg artillery pounding the already battered walls of the island fort. In less than 15 minutes the Arrageois forces, supported by the Cadian AT troopers, reached Fort Travium. The lack of enemy gunfire on the way over clued them in that the evacuation order heard was in fact not a diversion or a trick, but a genuine order. The only ones left in the fort itself were the dead and wounded. As for the wounded, the order was clear: no quarter. Every corpse was given the bayonet, just to be sure, and anyone suspected of being alive was given the same treatment. Not even the wounded militia from the earlier attack against the Cadians and Morridanes near the bridge were spared.

Meanwhile, so his men weren't bombarded into the Warp, d'Orleans ordered his vox-casters to send word to the Krieg to halt the bombardment.

"Gravediggers, Gravediggers, do you copy? This is Black Eagle One. We're going to need you to quiet those guns, we're the enemy is nowhere in sight. Over."

---

0945 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Fort Travium

As the Arrageois and their allies began setting up their defences of both the fort and the southern bridge--anything to bolster their position before the enemy launched a counter-attack--movement along the southern bank of the Erkalion alerted the outer patrols. D'Orleans, who was setting up a makeshift headquarters, was quickly informed of the development. The aristocratic soldier frowned.

"A vast multitude of refugees you say? We can't let them cross, we don't have the resources to shelter or feed them, and with that many, we can't be sure there aren't enemy forces with them." D'Orleans violently smashed his hand on a nearby table.

"Merde, this was their plan along with this evacuation, wasn't it? Tell the guards to keep them from crossing at all costs."

0948 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta


The vox-caster signal officers informed Marshal d'Arras of the developments near the fort, including the hordes of refugees. The elder officer shared his subordinates apprehension, of course, and was certain that the heretics were planning something.

"Get me into contact with the high command, ASAP," he barked to one of the nearby vox-casters.

"Aquilla, Aquilla, this is Black Eagle Zero, do you copy? We have a situation near the southern bridge. Civvies are trying to cross, they stink of heresy and we are refusing them access. Do you have further instructions? Over."

Colonel Korster

He saw the Arrageois troopers moving in to the fortress, and ordered his men to cease fire on the fortress, and picked up his field binoculars and scanned Fort Travium, seeing that the situation was under, control, he turned his attention to the shouting on the bridge, he saw the civilians trying to get across, and the fortified 1st Battalion Arrageois holding them back, he gestured at the vox-box operator for the mike, once he had gotten it, he clicked "transmit"

"All Boxers, readjust to the civilians, open fire on my mark." He switched channels to connect with the Arrageois

"Black Eagle 0, this is Boxer 1, please be advised, Boxer lascannons are fixed on civilian mass, how do you copy, over?" He clicked "receive" and waited for a reply. As he did so, he ordered on another vox-caster

"All non-lascannon infantry, move to reinforce the Arrageois Battalion, go." He handed the mike back to the vox-operator and turned back to the bridge.

Corporal Cupphon Cane

"All Boxers, readjust to the civilians, open fire on my mark." the order came over the vox caster. Cane and his squadmates looked at each other with confused expressions, the sergeant sighed and gestured at the bridge. Cane nodded and traversed the lascannon to the bridge, he saw infantrymen moving towards the bridge and the Arrageois Battalion. Cane, now that the fighting had ended, Cane began to think about what had happened, he began to shake vigorously, Clustorn patted him on the back and handed him a canteen, Cane grabbed it, and drank from it, his hand shaking, spilling water over his flak-armor. He handed the canteen back, the other men were also shaking a bit, Cane took a deep breath and got a grip on himself, focusing on his lascannon sights and the heretic mob on the bridge.

General Lazius Snortius

He looked up at the radio set as the message, he began tapping his fingers on the desk. He knew that his men had reformed, but he had no casualty reports, no supply reports, and now civilians were trying to force their way across the bridge, that was great. He watched as elements of his men moved across the map towards the bridge, he heard Korster giving orders and didn't decide to get involved in the giving of orders. He looked up at the other generals

"So, what are we gonna do with the civvies?"

[Acerbez]

Southern Bridge, Fort Travium.
0956

As the Fort Awaited its orders from its higher ups on how to specifically deal with the growing situation of civilians, the crowd itself was growing exponentially at increased rates.

At first, thousands and thousands. Men, women, and children, young, old, fit, and disabled. From any position whether it be the bridge itself or the broken ramparts of the Fort, the growing mass was clear and obvious. The darkened hive devoid of power was regurgitating its populace outward in a steady stream of humanity... Beaten, tired, and teary eyed humanity, simply looking for a charitable hand and merciful understanding. A fractured humanity dispersed in the eyes and faces of the civilians just recently held captive by the diabolical Vizier, seeking haven and asylum in the embrace of their emperor and his agents.

Numbers peaked at the influx as the thousands now begun to run near a hundred thousand with no sign of an end to the people that came crawling from the hive to the southern banks. Some holding sacks and luggage, as much as they could carry, others empty handed with only the clothes on their back and the fallen ashes of war smeared across their nose and mouth. Children holding the hands of distant relatives or sometimes strangers, looking back at the darkness they were leaving behind and only slightly cheery at the prospect of light across the river.

Being told on pain of death to cease their advance, the stricken eyes of many looked to the Arrageois and Cadian 34th that prodded and insisted they step back and step no further.

"M-m-my husband! Corporal Yati, he's the PDF! He's on the other side, please!" a brown haired middle aged woman shouted, dried tears lined her cheeks to her chin. Tinted greyish black with soot and dirt.

"WE'RE HUNGRY! WE HAVEN'T EATEN FOR DAYS! PLEASE!" A garbled man in robes shouted with his hand extended over the shoulder of the individual in front of him. Weakly resting but being thrown to and fro from the movement of the crowd.

In the middle of the crowd from an unknown individual, shouting within the constant chatter, "We have children! By the emperor, you must let us pass!"

A woman with a bundle that was shaped like a baby, wrapped in a dirty tattered creme colored blanket did her utmost to shove and make space with her elbows while begging someone to take her child. "Take them with you please! He is clean of taint, I swear by the god emperor himself, please just take my baby!"

Given only the shortest glances and ignored largely by all, there seemed to be no love amongst themselves as their priorities were entirely their own. The wave of moving feet and shoving from even the furthest reaches of the crowd would surge and grow to monumental force from sheer reaction, finding its way to the front and inching the refugees ever closer to the invisible line in front of the barricades the loyalists established. Testing the very patience of those sent to deliver them from chaos and rebellion.

Dirties hands reaching out, pleas of attention, assistance, and enquiries ranging in topic of loved ones, food, and loyalist intent created a cacophony of chatter thrown at the most forward elements of the blockade. So much movement, so much confusion and angst, it was difficult to breathe at times. Clutching their belongings so tightly, eyes shifting endlessly, the civilians demanded answers and reprieve. Small pockets of silent and straight faced individuals, glaring at the manned barricade itself while clasping their personal items. Sneering at the condescending guardsmen who felt so above them, reeking of self proclaimed superiority, playing the holier neighbor. The likes of which insists your homage is not the same nor equal to theirs, so you are left without blessing from the Holy emperor.

Or perhaps it was a snide glare of the mutiny that had engulfed Korinthia, it's hard to say among the thousands of faces.

A friendly Korinthian PDF Sargent would be heard shouting oursode of D'Orleans tent among a group of his own compatriots.

"You have to let them pass! They're still loyal! Please!!" he shouted while being held back by other soldiers. "You don't understand" he cried pleadingly.

Held at his arms just under his shoulders, he slumped so that is feet hung slightly dipping into the broken soil of Fort Travium as soldiers held him hoisted up.

His head down, the shadow of his helmet and its visor hiding his eyes and sorrow filled visage. Slowly stating, coldly, yet somehow intertwined with the purest essence of compassion and caring.

"Our... Our families are still over there... I.. I have a daughter... And a Wife.. Our families. We're good Emperor fearing people. Please by all that is good, by all that the emperor shines his holy light upon, let them through..." he ended with a whimper and show of tears. The thought of guns pointed at his ilk tearing him apart.

His sentiments shared deeply through the Korinthian PDF as they looked at his and back to the other Regimental commanders and staff and nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile the shouting, and shoving, only escalating further. Through the legs of the crowd at the foremost front poked a small head. Reddish brown hair layered by a light grey hood from his garment. Not older than 11 years old, smothered with grime and dirt, this boy had found his way from the middle. Unable to deal with the stampede like conditions set forth upon him, he broke through and nimbly navigated his exit to reach the front barricade almost entirely by sheer luck. Grasping only a small dirt brown bag that seemed to cover his entire stomach.

He began to take steps forward... Toward the barricade, Toward freedom and safety. Beyond those that were too afraid to cross the invisible line, the boy tread with echoes of his father's promise.

"Papa, said they were here to save us." he thought to himself. A gleeming look of admiration sparkled in his eyes as he saw the wall of strong and poised guardsmen from the other planets in their flak armor. Vastly different than the KIG, ugly unkept militia, or grim cultists.

After a few steps, the crowd up front began to calm and stop their ruckus to observe this fearless boy go forward, peering and peeking behind one another. Pushing forward ever so slightly to witness. Freezing in fear and expectation, They watched his stride forward towards the loyalists... Awaiting the reaction.

Whether they were Cadian, Arrageois, Morridane, Krieg, Arcadian, or simply Korinthian PDF- this small boy innocently and unintentionally challenged their orders by strutting toward them with his small bag in hand. Wide eyed with hope.

[Union Princes]

0851 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Near Fort Travium

The only sounds that run in the Guards' ears were the Krieg artillery pounding the already battered walls of the island fort. In less than 15 minutes the Arrageois forces, supported by the Cadian AT troopers, reached Fort Travium. The lack of enemy gunfire on the way over clued them in that the evacuation order heard was in fact not a diversion or a trick, but a genuine order. The only ones left in the fort itself were the dead and wounded. As for the wounded, the order was clear: no quarter. Every corpse was given the bayonet, just to be sure, and anyone suspected of being alive was given the same treatment. Not even the wounded militia from the earlier attack against the Cadians and Morridanes near the bridge were spared.

Meanwhile, so his men weren't bombarded into the Warp, d'Orleans ordered his vox-casters to send word to the Krieg to halt the bombardment.

"Gravediggers, Gravediggers, do you copy? This is Black Eagle One. We're going to need you to quiet those guns, we're the enemy is nowhere in sight. Over."

86th "Breakthrough"

After that call was received by the Krieg command, all guns directed at the fort cease firing and began directing their shots elsewhere. elsewhere, more companies of the 1st Division began making their way across the bridge to make an assault to secure the other side. A company of Krieg Macharius tanks accompanied the advancing troops. However, the large swathes or refugees forced the assault to a full stop while Commissar Yarvin and Colonel 86 pondering on the next step.

[Morrdh]

319th Morridane Rovers
B Squadron
No.6 Troop
1000 Hours

"All call signs, all call signs. This is Wolfhound Two-One." Called out O'Dea's voice over the vox net at Fort Trav. "All units in vicinity o' Fort Trave be advised, am 'bouts ta fire short burst. This is a warning fer the civvies. Over."

Once he'd received confirmation from the other units present, O'Dea had his driver moved up to the barricade whilst the AFV commander raised the barrel of the autocannon as high as it would go. He depressed the firing stud for a moment, causing a short burst of fire from the autocannon that boomed over the crowd. Many of the civvies cried out in alarm and the crowded started shift away from the barricade. O'Dea then called out to the crowd with the aid of a loud speaker. "Citizens of Hive Achaia, heed me words!"

"Hold yer ground and only come forward one at a one when we order ye ta do so." Announced O'Dea. "Leave baggage ta one side and move slowly ferwards with hands where we can see 'em. Any refusal to follow our instructions or attempts ta storm the barricade will be met with lethal force."

"Help us ta help ye, woman and children are ta come first." O'Dea stated. "Now wait 'til the first person is called!"

O'Dea then got onto the command net and called out over the vox. "Wolfhound Two-One ta Aquilla. Requesting Commissariat support at Fort Trav, we have large crowd o' civilians wishing ta move out of combat area. Over."

Lt.Colonel Artemis Stormwell
C/O 319th Morridane Rovers
Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta
1000 Hours

Stormwell waited a little impatiently as the umpteenth provost checked his credentials before finally allowing him to precede to the command deck where the other Imperial commanders had assembled. He would've been there sooner, but the feck-up with the landings at the spaceport meant his dropship had to abort and go back up into orbit on a holding pattern until it received clearance to land. Once on the ground it was a case of getting his command post established and figuring out where the troops under his command actually where. B Squadron had reached the northern bridge to Fort Trav and had engaged enemy forces whilst the other Squadrons were moving to support. Once Imperial forces secured Fort Trav, he had B Squadron remain there whilst the other Squadrons were directed. A Squadron was to split into Troops and scout the north bank of the river, if anything to try and located alternative means of crossing the river such as tunnels or barges. C and D Squadrons were ordered to scout east and west respectively along the river out from the Hive, moving into the ash waste to locate other crossing points. Imperial forces had surrounded the Hive City by now, thus allowing the Rovers free movement in and out.

Then getting out of the spaceport was problematic due to the vast amount of traffic still leaving it.

At last he made it onto the command deck and called out. "Leftenant-Colonel Stormwell, officer commanding Morridane Rovers."

"I know I'm late, got caught up in traffic." Added Stormwell by way of an apology. "Wot have I missed?"

[Bolslania]

Southern Bridge, Fort Travium.
0956

As the Fort Awaited its orders from its higher ups on how to specifically deal with the growing situation of civilians, the crowd itself was growing exponentially at increased rates.

At first, thousands and thousands. Men, women, and children, young, old, fit, and disabled. From any position whether it be the bridge itself or the broken ramparts of the Fort, the growing mass was clear and obvious. The darkened hive devoid of power was regurgitating its populace outward in a steady stream of humanity... Beaten, tired, and teary eyed humanity, simply looking for a charitable hand and merciful understanding. A fractured humanity dispersed in the eyes and faces of the civilians just recently held captive by the diabolical Vizier, seeking haven and asylum in the embrace of their emperor and his agents.

Numbers peaked at the influx as the thousands now begun to run near a hundred thousand with no sign of an end to the people that came crawling from the hive to the southern banks. Some holding sacks and luggage, as much as they could carry, others empty handed with only the clothes on their back and the fallen ashes of war smeared across their nose and mouth. Children holding the hands of distant relatives or sometimes strangers, looking back at the darkness they were leaving behind and only slightly cheery at the prospect of light across the river.

Being told on pain of death to cease their advance, the stricken eyes of many looked to the Arrageois and Cadian 34th that prodded and insisted they step back and step no further.

"M-m-my husband! Corporal Yati, he's the PDF! He's on the other side, please!" a brown haired middle aged woman shouted, dried tears lined her cheeks to her chin. Tinted greyish black with soot and dirt.

"WE'RE HUNGRY! WE HAVEN'T EATEN FOR DAYS! PLEASE!" A garbled man in robes shouted with his hand extended over the shoulder of the individual in front of him. Weakly resting but being thrown to and fro from the movement of the crowd.

In the middle of the crowd from an unknown individual, shouting within the constant chatter, "We have children! By the emperor, you must let us pass!"

A woman with a bundle that was shaped like a baby, wrapped in a dirty tattered creme colored blanket did her utmost to shove and make space with her elbows while begging someone to take her child. "Take them with you please! He is clean of taint, I swear by the god emperor himself, please just take my baby!"

Given only the shortest glances and ignored largely by all, there seemed to be no love amongst themselves as their priorities were entirely their own. The wave of moving feet and shoving from even the furthest reaches of the crowd would surge and grow to monumental force from sheer reaction, finding its way to the front and inching the refugees ever closer to the invisible line in front of the barricades the loyalists established. Testing the very patience of those sent to deliver them from chaos and rebellion.

Dirties hands reaching out, pleas of attention, assistance, and enquiries ranging in topic of loved ones, food, and loyalist intent created a cacophony of chatter thrown at the most forward elements of the blockade. So much movement, so much confusion and angst, it was difficult to breathe at times. Clutching their belongings so tightly, eyes shifting endlessly, the civilians demanded answers and reprieve. Small pockets of silent and straight faced individuals, glaring at the manned barricade itself while clasping their personal items. Sneering at the condescending guardsmen who felt so above them, reeking of self proclaimed superiority, playing the holier neighbor. The likes of which insists your homage is not the same nor equal to theirs, so you are left without blessing from the Holy emperor.

Or perhaps it was a snide glare of the mutiny that had engulfed Korinthia, it's hard to say among the thousands of faces.

A friendly Korinthian PDF Sargent would be heard shouting oursode of D'Orleans tent among a group of his own compatriots.

"You have to let them pass! They're still loyal! Please!!" he shouted while being held back by other soldiers. "You don't understand" he cried pleadingly.

Held at his arms just under his shoulders, he slumped so that is feet hung slightly dipping into the broken soil of Fort Travium as soldiers held him hoisted up.

His head down, the shadow of his helmet and its visor hiding his eyes and sorrow filled visage. Slowly stating, coldly, yet somehow intertwined with the purest essence of compassion and caring.

"Our... Our families are still over there... I.. I have a daughter... And a Wife.. Our families. We're good Emperor fearing people. Please by all that is good, by all that the emperor shines his holy light upon, let them through..." he ended with a whimper and show of tears. The thought of guns pointed at his ilk tearing him apart.

His sentiments shared deeply through the Korinthian PDF as they looked at his and back to the other Regimental commanders and staff and nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile the shouting, and shoving, only escalating further. Through the legs of the crowd at the foremost front poked a small head. Reddish brown hair layered by a light grey hood from his garment. Not older than 11 years old, smothered with grime and dirt, this boy had found his way from the middle. Unable to deal with the stampede like conditions set forth upon him, he broke through and nimbly navigated his exit to reach the front barricade almost entirely by sheer luck. Grasping only a small dirt brown bag that seemed to cover his entire stomach.

He began to take steps forward... Toward the barricade, Toward freedom and safety. Beyond those that were too afraid to cross the invisible line, the boy tread with echoes of his father's promise.

"Papa, said they were here to save us." he thought to himself. A gleeming look of admiration sparkled in his eyes as he saw the wall of strong and poised guardsmen from the other planets in their flak armor. Vastly different than the KIG, ugly unkept militia, or grim cultists.

After a few steps, the crowd up front began to calm and stop their ruckus to observe this fearless boy go forward, peering and peeking behind one another. Pushing forward ever so slightly to witness. Freezing in fear and expectation, They watched his stride forward towards the loyalists... Awaiting the reaction.

Whether they were Cadian, Arrageois, Morridane, Krieg, Arcadian, or simply Korinthian PDF- this small boy innocently and unintentionally challenged their orders by strutting toward them with his small bag in hand. Wide eyed with hope.

Guardsman Volocairn

He saw the kid who had broken through the line, his sergeant gestured at him, he nodded and walked over the the kid, rifle ready but not leveled.

"Alright kid, I need you to get back out of the line until we figure this out, move!" He ordered firmly, the other Cadians were holding back the crowd as best they could. They were beginning to get restless, and the situation needed to be resolved. He ducked as the AFV let out the burst, when the announcement was finished, he turned back to the kid.

"You heard the man, back in the line."

Colonel Korster

He wathced the AFV fire into the air, and saw the civvies jostle around. He looked at his men, most of them were shaking or 1000 yd staring, their lascannons fixed on the crowd. The situation looked to be under control, but that could change quickly...very quickly.

[Sweillia]

Colonel Lev Voronesky
In orbit above Hive Achaia
0530 Local Time

The very last of the Operation's main force was leaving orbit now, a few dropships that for some reason or another had been delayed in taking off with their respective troops. Among those troops, however, the 6th Vostroyan was not. As the ships swooped past the window of his personal chambers, Voronesky reflected on the 6th Vostroyan's journey. They were garrisoning some barely important world in some barely important system when he had received the message that they were to be a part of Operation Dawn Strike. He clearly remembered how, but a few minutes after he dispatched his Adjutant, whom he affectionately called the Cub, as he was the grandson of Nyedzvetzyn 'the Bear', to his battalion commanders with the order to break camp, the cheers of the troops, the banging on the drums, the sounding of the horns. It was so loud in fact, that on the last day of their stay on the world he found out of rumours circulating among its populace, that of an Ork camp placed roughly were the 6th Vostroyan camp had been. But at last a worthy cause had been found for them. They had spent some four months guarding nothing, which was four months too many for the Vostroyans. There are only so many times you can patrol the same cities and the wilderness between them, particularly if you aren't looking for anything specifically because your orders are so vague.

The dropships turned sharply towards that large blot of light on the planet's surface that was the Hive Achaia, the light coming from their engines growing smaller.

However, their travel to Korinthia had been chock-full of unfortunate events, and in particular warp storms. They were forced to take diversion after diversion, and even for multiple weeks they were forced to sit and fiddle their thumbs in a system that had ended up completely surrounded by warp storms. Fortunately the last leg of the journey was much more opportune, though Voronesky would have preferred this fortune to have arrived much earlier. And so, one of the closest units to Korinthia arrived in the system last, a week behind the unit that arrived before them. To top it off, after clearing up the lateness with the Lord Commander Theodosian, it was decided that the 6th Vostroyan would be held in reserve, and would not participate in at least the initial actions of the Operation.

The dropships were getting so far away from Voronesky and so close to the Hive that they became indiscernible from the rest of the light that emanated from it.

Such, it seemed, was the punishment for 'misorganisation of transit' as the Lord Commander put it. Some, perhaps many, guardsmen would relish in the opportunity for their regiment to be held in reserve resulting in them not seeing action, but for the Vostroyan Firstborn not fulfilling their duty, not repaying their ancestor's debt was an utmost disgrace. At least Voronesky had access to the Imperial forces dispositions, so he could make snark comments about their ineffectiveness to the Cub while sulking in his disdain for the Command Staff for not letting the 6th Vostroyan fight.

A cluster of red lights blazed towards the Hive. The dropships were beginning re-entry, and soon the assault would follow shortly.

He picked up a copy of the dispositions, which had been left, along with a map of the Hive, on a desk in the main room of the chambers that faced the large window onto the planet. He sat at the desk and began reading through the plans. After a few minutes Feliks 'the Cub'' Nyedzvetzyn returned from running errands, he nodded a welcome to Voronesky and sat on a stool in the corner of the room, pulled out a whetstone, unsheathed his shashka and began sharpening it. He expected Voronesky to relentlessly criticise the plans, but Voronesky kept silent. This was because as he looked over the dispositions, he realised they weren't as incompetent as he expected. In fact they were quite good, which if anything furthered his disdain for the Command Staff for coming with such an effective plan yet refusing the 6th Vostroyan a chance to take part in it. He tossed the plans back onto the desk, threw his head back and sighed loudly. Feliks took the chance to begin a conversation, "The men aren't too happy about the arrangement, Sir."

"I can imagine," he sighed again, slammed the table, stood up and walked back to the window, "what did they say?" Voronesky inquired, referring to the errand the Cub had returned from.

"The same as before, 'We believe that the best place for the 6th Vostroyan right now is to be held in reserve until a time at which a suitable role for them can be found, once one such is found the Colonel Voronesky will be sent for' blah, blah... blah," he replied and put away the shashka and whetstone.

"Emperor take them..." Voronesky murmured. "The Lord Commander should be glad your grandfather isn't with us anymore, the Bear would have probably done something that would lead to the 'dissolution' of the Regiment, if not far more by the Inquisition." After shaking his head in disappointment, Voronesky approached the door leading out of his chambers, "Let's go, I can't stand sitting here all day, doing nothing."

The youth shot up at the proposition, "But where to?" he asked.

Voronesky hesitated for a second, "Let's inspect the troops, why not?" He left the room without waiting for a response, and the Cub followed him out.

---

0700

The 6th Vostroyan Firstborn Regiment was split between fifteen ships, for no real particular reason. It had been that way since at least the time during which Nyedzvetzyn had joined it, and had made a habit of complaining about it when the unit was in transit. Someone in the Imperial Navy decided at some point that the 6th Vostroyan would be split into three, and so it was. Voronesky had his own theories as to why. Considering the visible age of the three vessels and the fact that he had never seen any ships like them, he believed that perhaps these vessels aged as far back as the founding of the regiment. It would certainly fit with Firstborn tendency to hold onto older equipment, after all they possessed a not insignificant number of lasguns that were centuries if not millennia old. His own rifle, which had been Nyedzvetzyn's before his death had been manufactured in the 37th Millennium at the latest if the stories were to be believed. Unfortunately, he had no evidence for this theory of his. Whatever the reason might have been for the fifteen ships, they were only able to carry one company each. Therefore, Voronesky only inspected the 1st Battalion, 1st Company, that which was aboard the same ship he was.

Fortunately, the men were already organised and ordered in some manner, just in case they were called on to land planetside. After the order was given for the company to form rank the soldiers quickly got themselves into place, with what some might be tempted to call grace. Voronesky had watched many other regiments form up, but they often descended into disorder. The only exception Voronesky made from this categorisation were the Valhallans, who, he believed, were the only units to even as much as pose a challenge to the discipline of the Vostroyan Firstborn. Soon the entire of the holding bay were they gathered was red from the colour of the uniform of the Firstborn. They were lined up in squads, with each Squad Leader forming the first rank, the Squad Second-in-Command the second and so on.

The major of the battalion, a Iosif Anestinov, stepped out in front of Voronesky and shouted, "ATTENTION!". What seemed to Voronesky a perfectly ordered and clean formation became even more so. The few distant whisper ceased, each soldier straightened themselves to their best extent. With right hand propping up the base of its stock, and the left on the handguard they held their rifles upright, and stared ahead, at the bare wall or at the backs of their fellow soldiers' heads. With their tall, 'fur' hats, each and everyone of them seemed to be of imposing stature, and their unbuttoned red greatcoats made them looked elegant as well.

As Voronesky walked past them, he couldn't help but feel proud. He had done this very thing hundreds of times before, but each time he still felt that pride, if not more with each inspection. He didn't hurry himself, he walked a at slow pace, taking in the faces of his men. Some of them he knew by name, many he did not however, but he always made an effort to learn the names of at least all the squad leaders, with varying levels of success. Occasionally he would stop completely to have a brief word with a captain or a lieutenant, about the state of their respective units, or sometimes to follow up on stories he had heard. A few times he also stopped by a soldier and told him, "Chin up," or maybe pulled his greatcoat to be more neater, and each of these encounters he ended a smile and a nod.

"Everything is just as would be desired," he said to Major Anestinov, after he had finally walked past the last squad. Following this inspection, Voronesky ventured to the Officers' Lounge, where his 'staff', was awaiting him. The 'staff', or the 'commissionless officers' as Voronesky referred to them in private as that's what they were in reality, had been formed as a result of 'planning ahead', the 6th Vostroyan had been provided with additional officers so that a chain of command could be quickly re-established during the Operation should one of the current officerial positions become open. Reinforcements for such hypothetical casualties would usually placed in roles as adjutants and such, however so many had been provided that each commissioned officer already had at least two adjutants and there were still some left over. He was unwillingly to give out more adjutants should those officers become too crowded and get distracted by the many voices chattering in their ear. So Voronesky took the burden of some twenty officers straight out of training and full of unchecked ideas onto himself. And they ended up forming his 'staff'.

As he entered, they greeted him near simultaneously, most with a polite bow of their head, but a few, who Voronesky suspected were trying to get on his good side, went the extra mile, "Good day, Colonel!", "How are you, Colonel!" they said. Just as Voronesky sat down, he was immediately approached by one of those eager few. He quickly pushed a map of the Hive into Voronesky's hands. It seemed to be a quite detailed plan of how to take the whole hive after the fall of Fort Travium, but before he could take a more closer look and scrutinise the plan it was snatched away. "What do you think Colonel?"

"Well, it seems at least half-decent, but what is it that you want me to do with it Bereshin?" Voronesky responded as he glared at the young officer.

"Eh," Bereshin nervously scratched the hair above his upper lip, which was just long enough to be called a moustache, "it's just that I was hoping to submit it to the Lord Commander."

Voronesky sighed. He couldn't really blame Bereshin for his naivety, if he had been in his position he probably would have done something similar if not exactly the same, "Look Bereshin, if you want to submit it, do so, but just so you know, by the time it will land in the Lord Commander's hands the Crusade would be over. Well, unless some general gets his hands on it first and gives it to the Lord Commander with their own name signed under it," Bereshin dropped his eyes to his feet, "but if you want it you have my blessing," Voronesky quickly added. Bereshin bowed deeply and left the room.

Not long after that an adjutant burst into the room, "A message for the Colonel-sir!" he exclaimed.

Voronesky shot up from his chair and darted towards the messenger, "What is it?" he rapidly blurted out.

"The Lord Commander-sir sends an order for the 6th Vostroyan Firstborn Regiment to prepare for landing at the Hive Achaia starport by 0900, Colonel-sir!"

"I am actually going to ki-"

---

0845
Transport descending to Hive Achaia

The worst part of descents for Voronesky had always been the turbulence. He couldn't drink, or he'd spill rahzvod all over himself. He couldn't play dice or cards with the Cub, or anyone else for that matter or everything would go everywhere. He couldn't even talk to anyone. All the officers would be busy making last minute checks on their units, and everyone else was consumed by the mix of excitement, dread and pride that the thoughts of the upcoming battle brought up, they'd be far too agitated to maintain a coherent conversation for long. All there was left to do for Voronesky was to sharpen his shashka, and he was certainly not thr only one doing it. The loud drone of the transport's engine was complimented by the sound of whetstone on steel. Ozheng-zheng ozheng-zheng it went. "Two minutes til landing," interrupted the pilot's voice. Voronesky sighed, stood up, sheathed his shashka and whetstone and left for the holding bay.

There his 'staff' awaited him already, behind the company, of course, mounted up and all. The horse that he was to ride was new, at least to him. His previous horse that he had purchased on the planet on which the 6th Vostroyan had previously been stationed, had severe problems with interstellar travel, which they found out all too late and he was forced to sell it during one of their journey's many unplanned stop. Once he had mounted, the Cub handed Voronesky his rifle, which he inspected himself. "It's all in order, I assure you," he interjected.

"Oh, of that I've no doubt. It's just that I need to make sure I'm used to the weight. I haven't used it in, well in months." He lifted his left leg and slid the rifle under it. He took a quick moment to reflect on what was to be done. The 6th Vostroyan was to reinforce the forces attacking the Fort Travium, in order to ensure a quick victory over its garrison. They were to march south to the island on which the Fort sat as soon as they stepped foot on the planet.

Voronesky could feel himself leaning forward, every second that passed he was a slight bit further than after the last. As the transport slowed the push forward grew greater and greater until he was jolted back. They had arrived, and soon the doors of the transport opened. Without a command, the line of soldier moved forward, Voronesky and his 'staff' following. The brisk pace of the youthful soldiers march meant that it didn't take very long for them to leave the transport. Once in the open, Voronesky glanced around them. The two other companies had landed slightly further back and so were not as far as the 1st Company. Voronesky was about to send one of his adjutants to Major Anestinov with an order to slow down to let the other companies catch up so that they might form up as was expected of a Vostroyan Firstborn regiment, but suddenly the mass of troops ahead of him had slowed down significantly. Anestinov was certainly the best of the 6th Regiment's battalion commanders, at least in Voronesky's opinion.

"Hurrah-ah-ah!" came a voice from somewhere ahead, evidently quite far by how faint it sounded. "Hurrah-ah-ah!" it was repeated, but louder and with more voices. "HURRAH-AH-AH!" was shouted once more, with most if not all of the company's soldiers taking part. "HURRAH-AH-AH!" again, but this time it was also heard from the right, evidently the other companies were involving themselves as well. A new shout was raised, "Glory to the Emperor!!!" Eventually the shouts of Hurrah-ah-ah gave way to those that called for glory to be brought to the Emperor of Mankind. But even those died down, especially after the fifteen companies united and the march on the Fort Travium was begun in earnest.

As the march proceeded towards the Fort, a message arrived, addressed to Colonel Voronesky. The Fort Travium had been taken, but the 6th Vostroyan should advance to it anyways, in order to participate in further actions relating to the retaking of Hive Achaia. Voronesky lifted his towards the sky and glared at it. "I am... I am at loss for words."

[Imperialisium]

General Kastia Valerkov, 1030

General Valerkov was a pretty woman by any stretch of the imagination. But that did not diminish her competence despite what some of her male counterparts may jest about. As she entered the Capital Imperialis, the Adeptus Mechanicus officials in tow, she moved onto the bridge and saw a variety of other Regimental grade officers present. Her second in command, Marshal d'Arras, looking at the hololith. Despite his age he was the first to snap to attention and followed by everyone else on the Strategium bridge. Her own staff filing in to take up positions as they continued in their duties. But, last but not least and joining them part way on their journey over from their first and brief command outpost near the space port, was a pair of officers in the livery of the Korinthian Planetary Defense Force. The uniforms of the Guard were crisp and clean. Their were dusty, dirty, and in more than one places held together by patches. The older of the two bore a bushy beard and moustache with a clearly hand made eye patch covering his right eye.

Turning to her left there was the Adeptus Mechanicus Fabricator-Locum of Metaxes. Fabricator-Locum, a pleasure, please follow me to the mobile command base. That is what she said and the Mechanicus had patiently followed. Valerkov knew that the Mechanicus had every right to be at the Strategium and war councils of this campaign as everyone else here. Metaxes was under siege was what the Astropaths had managed to decipher from various and often scrambled messages by their counterparts on that war torn world.

"At ease." All of the officers and bridge personnel relaxed. Her Tempestus Scions took up four positions around the Strategium. The red lenses of their built in helmet optics no doubt scanning the room with full spectrum visual. Their hellguns always at the ready. Valerkov held up an arm to indicate the Fabricator. "I present, Fabricator-Locum Malika Cerra of Forge World Metaxes. She has brought a War Cohort to aid out efforts here and the crusade at large." Valerkov gripped the holo-lith in a quick sweep of her arms. "Now." Now. Reading reports coming and hearing cox communications between dozens of units. The Holo-lith updating every second wherever possible. In areas of the front were signals had been delayed units would flicker, vanish, and reappear a little ways further from where they had been.

Her eyes swept the holographic display. Battlegroup Zephyr had acquitted itself well. But the 41st Vostroyan was not reaping that progress by the counter assault occurring upon them. "29th Valhallan is to fire sustained barrage at forces assaulting 41st Vostroyan. All guns," she snapped curtly. Immediately, a bridge vox operator began relaying the order directly to the 29th Valhallan's Command staff and Colonel.

Looking down at the Holo-lith at Battlegroup X-ray she cocked an eye brow. The Starport had been taken courtesy of the 222nd Arcadian and follow up forces. "6th Vostroyan is to make to push the North-eastern walls alongside the Telrade. They have authorization to move opportunistically to gain ground that they can hold." A second operator sent a vox-communique right away detailing the order.

Then there was the issue of the refugees...

"General, urgent message from 721st Vardan Rifles. Major Kalemberg on a secure vid-cast line."

"Play it." On the central holo-screen above the holo-lith there flickered into view the visage of a gruff, shaven, middle aged man with a scar along his brow. "Major Kalemberg reporting. Outskirts are securing, scouts have linked up with adjacent regiments and the encirclement is complete. We have, uncovered something quite disturbing, show them Lieutenant." The vid-cast, clearly hand held by a recorder, panned to show a rectangular square dug in the sandy ash wastes a few hundred meters out from the Outskirt shanties. They had not dug deep but neatly packed were rows and rows of corpses in various states of decay. Vardans holding shovels with slung lasguns could be seen milling about. In the distance other pits had been uncovered.

"We estimate there to be at least 50,000 bodies in these pits here. There have been reports of others by other regiments forming the encirclement. We keep finding more pits every fifteen minutes or so. But the bodies do not seem to be mutilated. Buried in haste more like. That is all I have to report. Over."

"Very good Major. All regiments are to enact hygiene protocols immediately." replied Valerkov. The Major nodded and the sound of a flamer igniting could be heard just as the video feed was cut. Valerkov turned to the PDF officers.

The older one spoke up, "I am Acting Major-General Kython Calirodos. Korinthian 17th PDF Brigade." He looked down, "During the early weeks of being cut off from the Imperium we were able to bury our fallen formally. But, as more of the planet was lost we had to divert to improvised methods," consulting a beat up data-slate the officer cited, "By our estimates we have buried or, when able, burned 16.8 million civilians and 2.3 million PDF personnel." Several staff officers in the room made the sign of the Aquila and offered prayers to the God-Emperor. The officer continued with a solemn tone, "We however, estimate there to be at minimum twenty-seven million more dead within or disposed of by the traitors." The younger officer looked down. These were their families and homes. Say what you will of the Planetary Defense Force. These brave souls had fought two years non-stop with nothing but their faith in the Emperor to see them through. "We currently stand at 18,000 surviving PDF troopers and 80,000 auxilia." Auxilia. Valerkov had seen them on the move over to the lumbering Capital Imperialis. She had seen ten year olds stripping the fallen to bring to depots. Young prepubescent girls loading body parts and corpses into bags or stretchers. Their faces blackened by grit, sweat, and tears. How many had buried their parents? Their siblings? How many more would perish before it was through?

The Northern Galleries were already a refuge for some forty million souls. That itself a fraction of its original population of two hundred and sixty million. Valerkov nodded to the two men and looked at the situation developing at the bridge. It was no doubt a ploy. Heretics and Traitors were not those prone to morality.

"Battlegroup X-Ray is to pool Commissars from the Arrageois, Arcadian, Cadian, ,Morridane, Minervan, and Krieg formations to set up interrogation tribunals." Turning behind her she waved forward and a man, hunched, holding a staff bearing the emblem of the Psykana came forth. Several officers took a step away. Psykers despite being vital were not well received.

"Master Arradan how fast can you screen for taint."

The older man stroked a long grey beard. "In optimal conditions I can screen one hundred souls every five minutes. Those truly loyal to Him on Earth will blaze with his golden light. Those without will be like looking at a brazier in a dark room." Master Arradan had served the Imperium for forty-five standard Terran years and had not failed in his duties once. The laspistol at his waist was just but one sign of that trust. The other being his authority to lead squads of Sanctioned Psykers into battle. Though for now, it was just him present save for the Astropaths up in orbit.

"Then you will have those conditions. Marshal d'Arras. Battlegroup X-Ray will form a corridor for civilians to file down four abreast. Women and children first. They will drop their luggage before the bridge while teams of troopers will retrieve them, examine them, and then hand the bags back once they reach the Northern side. To expedite this the Kriegers will provide the manpower for examining refugee belongings. The Morridanes and Cadians will keep the cordon on the Southern portion while the Arrageois provide the corridor from Fort Travium to the northern side. At that point they will be sent into a cordoned off zone manned by Krieger detachments until Commissars have processed them. Once processed the loyalist PDF will oversee habitation assignment and work details."

It was a fair divvy up of the work and would allow a steady flow of refugees. But the more they could gain the trust and commitment of the citizens still loyal to the Golden Throne the better. A lot of the menial labor could free up Guardsmen for the frontline sectors.

But there was one issue. This was a bottleneck. The enemy was buying time. They needed a surprise of their own. Turning to the PDF officers Valerkov pressed a rune on the holo-lith. The details switching to a blueprint of the subterranean metro and the underhive. Well, the Underhive portions were only mapped from engineering reports dating back to 91.M41. That was over three centuries of not being mapped and updated. "We need to see if any other ways across the river are accessible. Acting Major General Calirodos, what is the status of the metro system?"

Calirodos cleared his throat, "All access ways are sealed with Hive safety doors. You'd need a Regiment's worth of plasma ordinance to get through one of them. Meant to survive surface bombardment and heavy artillery. However, the ones on our side are under our control. Half of which, including all the ones to the Commercia are blocked. The West Main line is flooded from fighting last year. New Line, not sure about and all pict-feeds have been offline there for months. But, the Old Line..." The PDF officer manipulated some runes to light up a portion of the mass transit system, "...The old line is intact as far as we know. The issue is, that parts of it descend into the Underhive, we sent a team down there fourteen weeks prior. Came back twenty minutes later disheveled. We sealed it after that."

"Well its the only viable option we got. Any of the pict feed still operating?"

"Yes, General, but it is intermittent."

"Does the enemy know to access them?"

"Yes, but they wouldn't be checking for anything coming from the Underhive while the Guard is on their doorstep."

"We assemble a team. Each Regiment's best field man. Sapper, marksman, engineer, medic, et cetera. We send them down to find a way through or if not, come back."

41st Vostroyan, 900-1015 (past tense to present)

The enemy had wasted no time in counter attacking. Dozens of sentinels and hordes of militia and even support weapons fired upon the entrenched Vostroyans. They were met by the scything coordinated fire of the red uniform, bronze cuirass and pauldron caraspace, bearskin and masked soldiers of Vostroya's Firstborn. It was not long until the militia was literally trambling over their own fallen as the Vostroyans fired relentlessly. One trooper fired full auto. Another, hunkered down, loaded lasguns and set others aside to cool.

Others hurled grenades or fired rockets, lascannons, and if the enemy got close enough as in at least a dozen grueling cases. A Flamer sprayed its orange-red death upon them. But the Sentinels were a problem. Even though Vostroyan heavy weapons would be taking a heavy toll the Sentinels could pin down entire platoons.

whirrrr

The shrill of hundreds of objects suddenly could be heard. To the Vostroyan's left flank hundreds of flashes as the 29th Valhallan Field Artillery, guns loaded, literally wheeled in and fired as soon as batteries were formed. The Valhallans like the Vostroyans were adept experts at what they jokingly would call Dynamic Entry through City and Snow. A crescendo of detonations as HE rounds exploded all across the enemy surging towards them. Blanketing them in debris, rubble, dust, and body parts. A thousand angry Valhallan guns were unleashing the Emperor's Fury.

[Parcia]

830-915

The Movement in to the darkened hive spire slowed to a near crawl. They had the place pretty well mapped out already, a combination of Hive records and orbital auger scans told them they were moving down a set of large halls normally used to transport cargo for the upper hive elite, but they were two years out of date to begin with and said scans weren't known for their accuracy. Still, their prey-sight goggles and spotter skulls gave them the advantage as they advanced down several hundred meters, stopping only to bayonet any bodies they saw.

Even for the normally quick moving Harakoni, this was slow. They came across a few small rooms that hadn't showed up on the maps, likely built in the 2 years since the last mapping by the mechenicus. The tactic was simple. A squad stacked up on a door, the door was opened and a flash bang thrown in and the squad cleared it. The first room was empty, with a few dilapidated crates and boxes. The Colonel chose to stack up behind the point man on the second door. This one was made of reinforced steel framing a rather well camouflaged door, the auger packages on the Spotter skulls being the ones who alerted the 109th to them.

Tapping the point man on the shoulder, the colonel held his sword and plasma pistol at the ready. The trooper first tried to quietly open it, finding no such purchase to do so. Next, he gave a mighty kick to the doors center, only to have the metal dent and deform. Looking to his officer, the colonel nodded, leveled the plasma pistol at were the locked should be and fired a bolt of blue flame energy. The bolt melted the lock and with a crash the door flew open. Being the closet, Apone moved in and swept the room with his pistol.

With a Roar of "You won't have my grandchildren you damned heretics!" an elderly man in a set of ornate carapace armor and wielding a power sword came at Apone. Bringing his own sword he parried the strike and shoulder checked the man, sending him in to a table with a crash. To his left he heard a female scream and he snapped his head to it's source, leveling his plasma pistol on it...only to find a women, noticeably younger then the man, clutching two young girls. "They wear the holy Aquila! We are saved!" she yelled out to her husband as he sat there in the ruins of the table, a pair of troopers holding him at gun point. The women approached him on her knees, what he recognized to be a Cathartic rosary in her hands. "Please, please get us out of here, we have been hiding for close to 2 years, w-we nearly ran out of food!" His men looked at him, their weapons leveled on the family. Holstering his plasma pistol, he reached and flipped up the prey-sight goggles, still chewing on his ever lit cigar. "If you truly walk in his light, then the psykers of the Guard shall see it." Turning to his men he barked out orders. "Disarm them and get them down to the star port..."

"...and give orders to wave off the fucking devourer if it's still on the pad!"

[Britanania]

1035 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta

Marshal d'Arras saluted his commanding officer with the respect she deserved as General Valerkov issued her orders.

"It shall be done, ma'am," d'Arras told her as he returned to his work and informed the signal officers. All along the map, the other officers plotted the directions of the plan and began to make calls to the various departments for the logistical works for the operation. With the background work underway, the various vox-casters that made up the Signal Corps began their work informing the other elements of Battlegroup X-Ray.

"Gravediggers, gravediggers, do you copy?" the com rang out towards the Krieger position. "This is Black Eagle Zero. We have our orders from Aquilla. With any soldiers not building defences or setting up your guns, begin examining the belongings of the refugees as they drop them before the bridge. Over."

At the same time, a similar set of orders were sent to the other regiments and their commissars explaining Valerkov's orders. The emphasis, of course, was placed on both the efficiency of the operation as well as its speed.

---

1130 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Fort Travium

As instructed, the Arrageois forces and their allies units put into action the plan for the refugee, but equal importance was placed on making sure the fort was ready to withstand any counter-attacks. Battalion Commander d'Orleans knew that sometimes the best defence was a solid offence, and was eager to prepare for their own attack into the hive proper once the refugee crisis was taken care of. He got his own signal officers on the line to contact the Morridanes.

"Wolfhound One, Wolfhound One, this is Black Eagle One. Do you copy? If you can spare any units, begin probing the other side of that river. Over."

[Segmentia]

Eastern Tower, 0820-0840

The battle to secure the initial entry level of the tower was bloody, intense, and very close quarters. The booming roar of shotguns, the snap-crack of las, the muffled boom of grenades, and the ever present sounds of death filled the upper levels of the tower as the Telrade warrior women did their butchers work against the militia, who fought well but simply weren't ready for an onslaught of heavy infantry. Elements of her brigade and the second brigade that had followed, started making their way up to the upper levels, where the heretic militia had tried to redeploy some of their heavy weapons, and while it slowed the Telrade upwards advance down it did not stop it, and given the obvious low priority sector the tower had been, their supplies dried up quickly. Major General Sela Arrous Nasiritan allowed her brigade second in command, Colonel Valirie Rendalos, lead half the brigade upwards, with reinforcement as needed. As the upper levels began being cleared out the heavy weapons platoons began moving from the west tower over to the east, so that positions could be taken up overlooking the commercia district, as well as the wall segment further east beyond the tower itself, a likely place for an enemy counter attack.

Sela lead the other half of the brigade downwards, seizing on their local initiative to take as much of the tower as possible, while the second veterans brigade moved in and took over control of the wall level, starting to clean it out and set up a forward operations center. Sela kept an ear on the progress reports, hearing as casualties were called in, dead and wounded. Most seemed to make it out well enough, light wounds that would just need some patching up and a bit of rest. There were some more serious injuries, women who would need to be invalided out of the regiment, and then there were the deaths of course. They would be cremated and their ashes sent home to Telrade with the invalided Guardswomen when the opportunity arose.


By 0915 Sela had received word that the upper levels of the tower were totally secure, even as she lead half the brigade downwards to start securing the lower levels. Resistance was still light and scattered by time they had reached the third level down, the stairwells opening into a large lobby-like room that was devoid of enemies. Sela gave an order for a five minute rest and her Guardswomen secured the doors. There were another two large doors on either side of the room that were elevators. Sela was debating on if she should utilize them, send a company or two down to the ground level and try to secure it before the inevitable enemy reinforcements came, but that was decided for her when the elevators chimed. Someone was coming up.

“Stand ready!” Sela ordered, herself and her soldiers finding what cover they could and aiming at the elevator doors. With a final chime the doors began to slide down into the floor. The elevators were large, no doubt meant to haul heavy munitions up to the artillery decks. The beings inside sparked a fury in Sela, as they would any righteous servant of the God-Emperor. Their bodies covered in sicking symbols, their bodies twisted by mutation, Sela knew cultists when she saw them. Before the door even fully closed she opened fire, and her comrades joined in. It was a brutal display of firepower, cutting the majority of the vile cultists down in a moment, but some managed to force their way out of the elevator, using their comrades, dead and alive, as cover against the onslaught. They didn't get far beyond the elevator doors though, the mass of concentrated firepower cutting them down as their cover was likewise destroyed. The lobby settled into silence, their masks saving the Telrade the smells of so much firepower and dead bodies.

“Burn the bodies and destroy those elevator cars!” Sela ordered, deciding that fighting down each level was going to have to be the main course of action, as clearly the enemy reinforcements were in arriving. She hastily lead her women down and secured the next level, but the level after that is when they ran into real and organized resistance. Her lead squad and the seeming lead squad of the enemy reinforcements had run into each other, quite literally. Sela heard the brutal firefight, the screaming whir of chain-swords and of their victims. She surged ahead with her command squad, but by the time she got there the fight was done. The enemy squad was dead, but half her lead squad was dead or wounded, their carapace armor the only thing that saved them from even higher casualties. But the enemy dead were much better equipped then those they had been fighting, and Sela knew they were in for a real fight now.

Sela gave the order for a slower, more cautious advance, and also called for more troops from the upper floors, the fight was going t get much more bloody. The enemy seemed to adopt the same strategy, moving cautiously, taking up positions wherever they could, and while casualties were mounting for the Telrade, their progress was still moving, though much slower now. After a bloody forty minutes they had secured the level, and Sela called a halt to the advance for now, she needed to regroup, bring up fresh troops, and allow for a rest. Even then, they secured all the ways up, ready for an enemy counter attack at any moment, her chrono read as 1045.

1045

On the upper levels, Colonel Valirie Rendalos was busy supervising the set-up and securing of the levels already captured. The second brigade had arrived, and elements of the third were also arriving. She sent the second brigade down to assist the general, while the third brigade was set to defend the wall-level, though it was getting a bit cramped. She swiftly brought up large amounts of ammunition for the heavy weapons, expecting they would be busy for some time, and had the a medicae area set up in the largest room she could find. It was already starting to fill with wounded, though the dead were laid in a separate room where they would wait until they could be ceremonially cremated, though their weapons, except for their swords, were taken and stockpiled.

Rendalos was just debating on if she should go down below to rejoin the general when the PDF lieutenant that had tagged along with them at Sela's orders approached her at a run, snapping off a salute. Rendalos didn't return it, but gave a nod. “Yes, Lieutenant Grissom?” She asked, not hostile but not friendly either.

“Ma'am! Captain Farsozi sent me to inform you that she's spotted enemy armored elements down below! She's up on the next level, ma'am!” Grissom reported. Rendalos didn't need an invitation and immediatley stepped around the PDF officer and jogged up the stairs, finding Farsozi easily enough, looking out a small view port with magnoculars. Rendalos approached the port and pulled her own magnoculars from her belt.

“Just a few Chimeras now, but I'm confident I saw the turret of a Leman Russ down there. I have the las-cannons ready.” Farsozi said, but didn't take her eyes from her observation. They kept watching and then there it was. Several platoons worth of Chimeras, with a smattering of Leman Russ tanks rolled into view on the relatively narrow stretch of open ground between the first rows of Hive buildings and the river.

“Take out the rear Leman Russ first, and then start hitting what we can. If those Chimeras have infantry inside they might be a better priority to target.” Rendalos said, wondering just what the heretics were up to down there as Farsozi relayed the orders. A few moments later they received a reply that all weapons, twenty auto-cannons and ten las-cannons, were primed and ready. The enemy armor was slowing a bit, though not stopping, as they reorganized.

“Fire.” Rendalos gave the command and thirty heavy weapons opened up on the formation below, with all ten las-cannons and several auto-cannons aiming for the rear Leman Russ, hoping to somewhat block a retreat if they could, while the rest of the auto-cannons started working over the Chimeras.

1040 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperiali

Fabricator Locum Malika Cerra had followed the general to the vast Capitol Imperialis out of respect, offering a short prayer to the mighty machine before she entered, her Thallax escort awaiting outside. She followed Valerkov and listened as she gave out orders to her subordinates. The crisis at hand was interesting and by the time the general had finished giving her orders Malika had comprised fifteen different plans for dealing with the refugee issue, but didn't offer any. The Imperial Guard could be a curious beast in regards to outside suggestion.

“I do not mean to interrupt, General Valerkov, but there is a far more pressing matter that needs to be made known.” Malika said in her modulated voice once Marshal d'Arras had acknowledged the orders. With multiple metallic clanks and clicks Malika's dozen mechadendrites released from her body and snaked out from under her rust red robes, manipulating the holo-lith, the projection shifting to a different sector of the Hive.

“An Adeptus Mechanicus complex south of the hydroponics facilities. Communications with the complex has confirmed that there are disciples of the Machine God within, un-corrupted but under siege. This complex is the most vital thing within this hive, and the Fabricator General of Metaxes wishes for it to be secured with all possible speed. The Fabricator General would be grateful if this were to happen while those within are still functional, but the complex itself is the most vital objective.” She said. “And the Fabricator Generals' gratitude, and my own, is not something I would discount. The Adeptus Mechanicus has already issued a formal complaint that the crusade has not made Metaxes, the most vital world in this entire sector, its first priority. As it stands, supplying this crusade is the twelfth priority for Metaxes. Unless your crusade starts to gain favor with the Fabricator General and the Adeptus Mechanicus, I would not expect much in the way of direct resupply or assistance.”

0915, Spire Assault, 4th Telrade Heavy Infantry, 5th Veterans Brigade

Major Nazas Hisso Triniris paced up and down the waiting ranks of her brigade, her helmet held under her arm as her impatience began getting the better of her. At two and a half meters tall, Nazas was one of the tallest women in the entire regiment, and that was quite something. Her pale skin, natural white hair, and ice blue eyes were quite the opposite of her cousin Sela, but the blood connection was there, which made Nazas high nobility on Telrade. She was a young but fairly seasoned officer, her current bout of restless impatience being more to do with the drop-ship hanging in the air and waiting to land more then anything else. It was just asking for a AA missile to rip the guts out of the drop ship and send them all hurtling down to their deaths. She was about to order the captain of the drop ship to break from their lazy orbit and head towards the starport where they could join with the rest of the regimental vanguard when the captain contacted her and informed her that the Devourer sitting on the landing pad was finally moving. With a calming breath Nazas acknowledged and set her helmet in place, checking the seal and relaxing.

Nazas unsheathed her power-sword but didn't activate it. It was a devastating blade, long even to her, which give her own size often gave her the edge in melee fights. She was perhaps the most talented swordswoman in the regiment, a fact she took great pride in, and she liked to show off that skill whenever possible. Other then the power-sword she was armed with a elegantly crafted bolt-pistol, and a few knives.

The drop-ship touched down and as soon as the front hatch opened Nazas lead the brigade out, swiftly unloading all of their equipment and supplies. Once they were out she contacted the drop-ship commander and informed him he was clear. The ships engines whined as the front hatch sealed shut and the massive ship lifted off. The 109th Harakoni and 1st Cascan Corsairs had already secured the landing pad and the areas directly beyond, seemingly a large hall of sorts and a few side rooms.

“Starting deploying the heavy weapons in defensive positions. Meltas and flamers form with the infantry platoons.” Nazas ordered as she lead her brigade into the spire proper. She had not had much contact with the Harakoni since the initial agreement had been made to lend support, and that had been through the vanguard stratigium and tactical staff. As her brigade spread out, heavy weapons setting up in the best areas and the regular troops going through and double checking that their night and thermal visions were working.

Nazas activated her microbead, selecting the Harakoni command channel as previously exchanged. “Malaka, this is Amazon Five, my brigade has landed and is ready to continue. I assume you have a plan?”

[Union Princes]

1035 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta

Marshal d'Arras saluted his commanding officer with the respect she deserved as General Valerkov issued her orders.

"It shall be done, ma'am," d'Arras told her as he returned to his work and informed the signal officers. All along the map, the other officers plotted the directions of the plan and began to make calls to the various departments for the logistical works for the operation. With the background work underway, the various vox-casters that made up the Signal Corps began their work informing the other elements of Battlegroup X-Ray.

"Gravediggers, gravediggers, do you copy?" the com rang out towards the Krieger position. "This is Black Eagle Zero. We have our orders from Aquilla. With any soldiers not building defences or setting up your guns, begin examining the belongings of the refugees as they drop them before the bridge. Over."

At the same time, a similar set of orders were sent to the other regiments and their commissars explaining Valerkov's orders. The emphasis, of course, was placed on both the efficiency of the operation as well as its speed.

86th Siege
0900

On the surface, Krieg Regiment was in a buzz. Hundreds of thousand Grenadiers and Engineers withdrew to set up refugee camps while many more of their Krieg guardsmen brethren set up check points on the fort. While the artillery crew still continued their counter-battery support, most of the regiment was reallocated to the supervision and sentry duties. Commissar Yarvin lead the screen process carefully weeding out heretics and preventing fanatic Krieg Guardsmen executing Imperial citizens for not being zealous enough. Colonel 86 oversaw the camp construction which he had the experience of enough sieges to know how to quickly establish one. Instead of a camp for his soldiers, it would be for the citizens and it would have to be big enough to house millions.

[Morrdh]

1130 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Fort Travium

As instructed, the Arrageois forces and their allies units put into action the plan for the refugee, but equal importance was placed on making sure the fort was ready to withstand any counter-attacks. Battalion Commander d'Orleans knew that sometimes the best defence was a solid offence, and was eager to prepare for their own attack into the hive proper once the refugee crisis was taken care of. He got his own signal officers on the line to contact the Morridanes.

"Wolfhound One, Wolfhound One, this is Black Eagle One. Do you copy? If you can spare any units, begin probing the other side of that river. Over."

319th Morridane Rovers
A Squadron
HQ Troop
1130 Hours

"Black Eagle One, this is Wolfhound One Actual." Crackled the voice of Captain Dornan, the commander of A Squadron. "We can spare our Support Troop, they're mechanised infantry, callsign Wolfhound One-Five."

"All other units of my squadrons have taskings." Added Dornan. "Callsign Wolfhound Zero fer regiment command. Over."

---

Air Marshal Alizabeth Kaldwin
Aeronautica Korinthia
Spaceport
1130 Hours

Alizabeth did not head straight to the Capitol Imperialis, instead the Valhallan air commander made a stopover at the spaceport to personally inspect planetside elements of the Aeronutica Imperialis. The spaceport was destined to serve as the main Imperial airbase, though secondary bases were to be established to handle the entirety of the Imperial air assets to save them from having to transit to and from orbit. It was also the spaceport where the main Operations command & control centre was going to be based in order to direct the Imperial air war.

Much to Alizabeth's frustration was finding out there was still a backlog in transferring Imperial ground forces from orbit, this meant that dropships and shuttles were still tied up and thus unable to ferry down Aeronutica personnel. Most critical of these personnel was the Naval Security Battalion to defend the spaceport and the air controllers needed to direct air operations. It almost seemed like His Majesty's Imperial Air Forces were being overlooked at best and considered unimportant at worse by Crusade Command. Determined to not see Imperial air assets deliberately hamstrung, Alizabeth avowed to demand that ground forces still in orbit should be put on hold until critical Aeronautica personnel had been ferried down first.

[Acerbez]

Eastern Tower/Norther Section of the Commercial District
0920-1045

Having lost the tower baffled Shazenan, as he was unable to make contact with any of the militia that had garrisoned within, but the matter of immense gun fire discharges and clamor of fighting had never ceased was sign enough that the militia were at the onset losing their post. He stepped into the base of the tower on the ground level and ascended with his platoon of cultists.
Ordering that a vox was never more then 25 paces behind him, He intended to maintain updated reports and battlefield awareness of both the interior of the tower and the ramps.

As the outside rampart mobs of men sprinted up the winding ramps that were cultivated at the walls side, the sounds of fire began to become more infrequent and less concentrated. Knowing that previous engagements were so very light and had not been notable enough to recieve further fortifications or reinforcements, the idea that a reinforced assault with replenished forces most likely from the non planetary forces was now the assumption. The Loyalist PDF were to exhausted prior to this were already beaten to a corner.

The first of the rebel forces moving to intercept this renewed loyalist offensive were felled in the elevators by Sela and her garrison. Unaware still that there were non PDF forces within. The angle and thickness of the parapets and walls made it impossible for non aerial forces to get real visuals. The Vox caster initially only reported a slew of attacks and penetrations of the barricades or Tower itself with no distinct description as to who it was.

Shazenan, Weiss, and the rest do the rebel force were blind save for the obvious saturation of heavy weapons now brought to the fold. The forward interception party sent into the lifts had failed to comm back to any of the Vox posts or Companies, Shazenan himself extremely aggravated with the current developments.

Progressing with extreme caution through the lower levels and the stairwell, Shazenan congregated with the foremost group of surviving militia that were on their way down the tower in retreat.

"Where in the warp do you think you're going?!" he hissed at the panicked men.

"Th-there are too many of them! They've taken the lobby, cut us off from the upper spires! We didn't have a cho-"

The humm of Shazenan's plasma pistol was brief but pummeled a blast of light blue energy into the militia's chest leaving a wide crater of charred center and the edges gooping gore of burning blood.

" The fools! Absolutely pitiful! Without the top spires we have lost our heavy weapon position! Why the fuck would you descend and give them away?!"

The remaining men gasped in fear and confusion, still entrenched in their flight of survival.

"Turn back around and fight, by the gods! If you persist on fleeing, I swear by Tzeentch only death awaits you here!" Turning to face his fresh force, "Khalis, bring the grenade launchers. Support these fools while we fortify here! Now!"

Nodding and turning back, a cultist motioned with his arm to others to push through the line that was formed in the stairwell and followed by the ascension of men armed with both Las rifles and grenade launchers. Adorned in markings and small banners of chaos, they met the gaze of the fleeing militia and peered into their eyes before prodding them with their rifles and pointed bayonets to turn back up. Left with no choice, the militia complied.

Hundreds of men funneled up perhaps maybe one or two levels before making contact again with the Telrade in the stair Wells. Leaving only a single floor as a buffer layer between them.

Immediately, the cultists began pointing their grenade launchers upwards of the architecture and fired ricochet shots to bounce of the walls and hopefully land along where Telrade soldiers fire back against the rebel Las fire from below.

Flowing into the buffering floor were the surplus of men intended to replace those that died in the stairwell. En masse were rifles, flamers, and grenade launchers, awaiting the order to pile in. Hearing the buzz of fire, Shazenan made for the Vox caster while ordering his men to surround his level's entry way with men and the lighter heavy weapons they carried, Heavy stubbers mostly.

"Where in the hell is this KIG dog!?" he roared while his vox operator chimed into the channel. The fighting reaching a teetering stand still as both sides fired into one another, the rebels only using numbers to combat the superior quality and discipline of the Telrade forces.

---

Eastern Tower, Commercial District River Banks
1045

The pluming column of burnt petrofuel bellowed from the mass organization of Chimera, Centaur, and Russ'. Filled to the brim with men and flanked with sentinel squadron, the tower became fully visible after the column took a right turn from the commercial district junction.

This moment of clarity however was short lived. The sizeable concentration that rode out slowly at first was greeted not by the sight of friendly ordinance firing onto the wall ramparts but instead lit a piercing line through the sky toward them. One, then 5, then it became unquantifiable. Lascannon from the Telrade soared through the day lit sky and crammed into both the earth and the slow moving columns of the Chimera.

Major Weiss, bellowing from his leman Russ hatch witnessed a striking red laser beam past him just 4 meters away and rip into one of the russ' in his retinue. Imploding within and then outwardly exploding the fearsome steel beast as if it were just a toy.

More so, 3 Chimera were pierced immediately and atleast 2 centaur were struck in the engine by autocannon fire causing first an explosion, then for the entire vehicle to flip into the air from the combustion. Being just short of half a kilometer away, Major Weiss ordered a full speed advance of the forces, half of which were to head straight for the tower and provide cover for the cultists unable to cross the open fire ling zone that held them back.

Dropping into his vehicle, he snatched the receiver of his vox and began barking without restraint.

"This is Major Weiss of the 75th mechanised infantry, requesting immediate artillery ordinance support on the Eastern Tower! Over!"

The calm sea of static remained silent from the casters speaker and Weiss insisted on his request a second time, however he was cut off midway by a response.

" 75th, that is a negative, evacuation protocol 287 in effect, heavy barrels are silent. The interior director has ordere-"

Without pause, Major Weiss calmed himself before making the mistake of crossing his authority and took a breath.

"Interior Director Disenko, This is Major Weiss of the 75th, i know you are listening. I am requesting heavy ordinance deployed to the Eastern Tower in order to proceed with my previous plan to flood the enemy starport and LZ. Passing up this opportunity is a mistake, and I respectively insist that you authorize assistance, immediately! "

The silent static reflecting back through the reviver later a full 15 seconds as Major Weiss awaited for his plea to be answered. At the very same time, 25 chimera and 15 centaur accompanied by 52 sentinel had broke off and proceeded North and were laying heavy fire from their turrets into the visible or know firing port galleries used by the Telrade. Speeding at 35km per hour and sprinting for the sentinel, the Telrade tower positions would be answered with multi laser, lascannon, and autocannon from the relief force. This opportunity opened up a brief moment for the remaining militia and cultists across the commercial district to make their hasty advance toward the tower and ramps.

Then the response came. A cold voice echoed within the command tank and Weiss' eyes widened in a mix of resentment and disbelief that Disenko actually replied.

"Major Weiss... Your tenacity and disregard for my orders has been quite tiring these last few years... Despite your authority and self diagnosed intelligence, you feel you are superior to the laws of command. It is with great regret that I have to inform you your services are reaching their limits as well as trying my patience." Disenko's voice range and perked the ears of both the driver and gunner as they looked at the twisted face of Manor Weiss.

"Had you followed orders and simply stuck to my commands you would not be in this sort of predicament. Your request is dutifully denied. And I believe it goes without saying that if you lose that tower and are unable to repel these imperial rats from the nest they now cradle within... Well... I will personally leave the audience of your execution and take a rifle myself and participate in the firing squad that exacts judgement for your insubordination... Now, you have a tower to reclaim. Over and out."

Shocked, Major Weiss was at a loss for words. Having been a subtle thorn in the side of Disenko for many years, his fear of the KIG kill Squads had ensured he stayed in line but admittedly, playing the line of his authority had culminated in these events and now his very life was on the line.

Dropping his head, he chimed on the Vox caster sullenly,
"All units, proceed to reclaim the tower at all costs. Platoonss 1 and 2, on me to begin dozing debris and earth into the river.

Unload your men, if a tanker falls in the line of duty then you push it into the river as well. Over."

---

Fort Travium 1142

Disenko had awaited and surveyed the battles from the plethora of reports and servos peering from the darkened walls of the hive. Fort Travium was in full traffic from the refugees and the loyalists were entertaining them in full.

Nodding to one of his staff, the soldier turned away and began relaying orders to another unit. The feigned retreated artillery company that had abandoned the batteries on the south banks anxiously awaited nearby wihh in the confines of the munitorum building for their orders.

Having left the batteries primed and loaded for the sake of ibitiative, for some reason the loyalists had not located or designed to remove their threat despite their know presence of assaulting the LZ.

Men rushed out still largely covered by the ridges and roofing of the hive that casted a shadow over the munitorum until they saw light again in their artillery placements. Fort Travium's coordinates were static and well known to the rebels and shifting the batteries to appropriate positions was swift and easy. If for a moment, perhaps the loyalists if watching or observing the southern banks would see the slight movements of the cemented earthshakers fastened by rotating platforms. Teams of men aggressively hoisted their quad barrel launchers and heavy mortars to face Fort Travium and its Island entirety.

Surprise... Disenko thought to himself. Grinning at the usefulness of the refugees.

47 earth shakers, 25 heavy quad launchers, and 27 heavy mortars roared to life as they exploded their munitions outward to rain down on the broken Fort. Such a small and isolated location, bereft of stability and worn by war, it was hardly what it used to be and an easy choke point to concentrate fire upon. Letting off their volleys as fast as possible, the artillery company went to work at inflicting as many losses as possible while having little to no regard of the civilian refugees that had attempted to flee across to the northern galleries.

Disenko stood back from the video display, the blue light casting a comical yet grim picture of the KIG commander.

"Order Major Desir to form a hard wedge counter assault to assist Zirgos. Its likely the loyalists will cease their barrage on the north briefly and make a slight opening for them to push through. They'll want to destroy the artillery position... So be it."

Nodding, the Vox operator obeyed.

---

Western Tower Ramparts
1015-1142 present

The arrival of the KIG relief heralded cheers and applauds but it was brief.

The unknown artillery position created a massive rift that made advance impossible and had done away with much of the forces that had attempted to cross and assault the firing lines of the Vostroyan forces. Zirgos himself intent on miantianing the bloodlust of the men unceasingly hollered and preached the tenants of the ruinous powers and the glory that awaited those that had the desire to steal it from the loyalist scum that meant to tear it from their own dead hands prematurely.

This bombardment meant the counter assault had been halted abruptly. However having ascended the walls behind the tower opposite of the vostroyan line, the armored elements along with formations of militia and cultists at the front with KIG to their rear began to form.

The chimera readied their dozers to scoop the fallen in front of their hulls and drive forward with the men behind them... Awaiting the right moment, uncertain if that moment would ever come, they were to rush regardless.

---

Spiral Assault
0939

The Harakoni proceeded without pause through the halls devoid of light. However there were those that could see and others that... Well... Waited for their moment.

The confines of one of the rooms were holding just over 200 cultists that had made use of small electric lamps to maintain their senses while waiting. This room sat at the intersecting junction of the northern halls and the southern halls that proceeded East toward the lifts.

They weren't for sure if the enemy had made it this far, however it didn't really matter. They broke out from the room and lobbed smoke grenades down both left and right halls as men with flamers got down prone and began crawling ever so slowly. 2 men side by side inched along in both corridors doing their best to try and listen for nearing foot steps.

This wasn't easy though... Just behind them and around the random screeching or howling of those blessed resounded and echoed infrequently. This didn't disturb or scare the cultists however... It only emboldened them with knowledge that blessings were abundant and attainable.

[Britanania]

1131 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Fort Travium

After a brief moment, the vox-cm crackled back as the Arrageois signal officer's voice came back.

"Acknowledged, Wolfhound One Actual. Thanks for the help, and happy hunting. Over."

The officer informed Battalion Commander Henri d'Orleans of the situation. With most of the battalion working on processing refugees or setting up their defences, he regretted that they needed to reply on other regiments for recon, but that was the nature of the Crusade. The aristocratic gave the order to contact the other Rovers."

"Wolfhound One-Five, Wolfhound One-Five, this is Black Eagle One. Do you copy? We need some help scouting the enemy position."

A few minutes after the conversation with the Morridane units, d'Orleans looked away from his map of the hive when the unmistakable sound of enemy artillery blasted through the air. The strikes came suddenly and hard, hitting all around the area od the island, fort, and bridges. The Battalion Commander and his HQ were of course protected in the safety of a command bunker under the fort, but other units would be less fortunate.

Of course, the fort was damaged and not in any position to defend against a full artillery strike, but the units had some time to set up defences at the very least, and while d'Orleans knew this wasn't their first barrage he at least had some thought that the enemy couldn't be accurate enough to decimate the entire Imperial Guard contingent.

"Tell the bloody Kriegers to start a counter-barrage," d'Orleans barked to a signal officer. "And can someone get me into contact with the Aeronautica?"

[Bolslania]

1131 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Fort Travium

After a brief moment, the vox-cm crackled back as the Arrageois signal officer's voice came back.

"Acknowledged, Wolfhound One Actual. Thanks for the help, and happy hunting. Over."

The officer informed Battalion Commander Henri d'Orleans of the situation. With most of the battalion working on processing refugees or setting up their defences, he regretted that they needed to reply on other regiments for recon, but that was the nature of the Crusade. The aristocratic gave the order to contact the other Rovers."

"Wolfhound One-Five, Wolfhound One-Five, this is Black Eagle One. Do you copy? We need some help scouting the enemy position."

A few minutes after the conversation with the Morridane units, d'Orleans looked away from his map of the hive when the unmistakable sound of enemy artillery blasted through the air. The strikes came suddenly and hard, hitting all around the area od the island, fort, and bridges. The Battalion Commander and his HQ were of course protected in the safety of a command bunker under the fort, but other units would be less fortunate.

Of course, the fort was damaged and not in any position to defend against a full artillery strike, but the units had some time to set up defences at the very least, and while d'Orleans knew this wasn't their first barrage he at least had some thought that the enemy couldn't be accurate enough to decimate the entire Imperial Guard contingent.

"Tell the bloody Kriegers to start a counter-barrage," d'Orleans barked to a signal officer. "And can someone get me into contact with the Aeronautica?"

Colonel Korster


Korster was on comms with the other regiments in the area, when he heard the tell-tale whistle of incoming artillery. He turned and shouted

"HIT THE DECK!" he shouted as everyone in sight leaped for the ground. The thunderous symphony followed soon after. Dirt, debris, blood, and body parts flew through the air. When the first salvo had finished, the sound of artillery was replaced by replaced by screaming wounded and shouting guardsman. Korster reached for the vox-caster.

"Boxer 1 to command and X-ray, pinned down by artillery, unable to comply with recent orders, over." clicking on the "receive" Korster waited for a reply.



Cpl. Cupphon Cane

Cane raised his head from where he was laying prone on the ground, he had rallied with the men he was supposed to go under with, but the artillery had hit before they could move out. Now, the crater they were hiding in was filled with body parts, shrapnel bits, blood, and churned up dirt.

"Didn't we just fucking do this 45 minutes ago?" Cane said, the men with him chuckled darkly. The medic looked everybody over, nodded, and went back to not getting blown up by artillery. More whistling came in, the other men covered their heads and prayed to not be killed.

[Imperialisium]

The Western Tower
1145 Hours

The 41st Vostroyan's were holding, now dug in and heavy weapons having appropriate siting of the kill zones around the tower, a stream of ordinance would be firing into the advancing enemy forces. Thousands of lasguns, and dozens of lascannons, heavy bolters, rockets, and the occasional slower moving lob of a plasma bolt. The 29th Valhallan Artillery, correcting ranging issues, now began to fire accurate barrages with aid from Vostroyan spotters. Further, behind the tower and in the lower levels of the walls, the Vostroyans assembled for a push forward to move along the wall and possibly spill out into the nearest buildings. Entire companies marshalling out of sight from the enemy.

General Valerkov
10-1200 Hours

The Strategium was a whirlwind of activity as orders were barked and a cacophony of transmissions echoed across the space. The holo-lith updating periodically as data scrolled by via hologram or on data slates held by officers. "General, 29th Valhallan wishing to divert batteries to aid counter battery operation against enemy artillery shelling the Fort and bridges?" said a Vox operator. Valerkov quickly shot back, "Negative. They are to resume support of the Western Tower and counter battery in their forward sectors. 86th Krieg will be responsible for the counter battery across the fort and surrounding sectors."

Turning to the Mechanicus Fabricator the General responded to her subtle critique of the Lord Solar's vanguard assault. "Korinthia has the most stable warp routes currently. If we went to Metaxes we would not arrive for another month. Once Korinthia is liberated we are to make for Metaxes, rest assured, the Lord Solar will be devoting substantial forces to the relief of the Forge World."

[Union Princes]

86th Krieg
1135

The iron rain was unexpected. The thundering of shells and the panic of the civilians made the people a stampeding horde. The Krieg Guardsmen quietly but sternly forced the fleeing civilians to calm down at gunpoint and redirected them away from the artillery barrage. Commissar Yarvin was berating orders left and right as he tried his damndest to regain control of the situation. The heretics were obviously trying to soften the loyalist forces with this barrage which Yarvin notified the Krieg Colonel. Soon, Krieg Basilisks and heavy howitzers began lining up their barrels in the direction of heretic shells.

“Fire at will.” Colonel 86 commanded through his vox operator.

[Bolslania]

Colonel Korster

He heard the Kreig counter fire whistle over his position. He nodded.

"finally." Turning to his vox-caster operator he said.

"Tell the platoons to sandbag and construct fire shelters, indirect and direct. Get lascannons set up in positions and get our combined ops men moving." He got onto the vox-caster and sent a message to command

"We're sending our combined ops men out now. Over"

General Lazius Snortius

"Alright, Colonel, message received, thank you, out." General Snortius set down the mike. The command area was a jumble of people running to maps and stations, orders being yelled, and comm chatter. He turned to the Kreig CO

"Thanks for the counter-fire." With that he turned back to the Holo-lith

Corporal Cupphon Cane

Along with Guardsmen Letit and Purdi, Marksman and Medic, he went to the rally point to link up with the men from the other regiments. They had cleared the zone before the artillery hit again, and were now attempting to calm their nerves, mostly with cigarettes.


Guardsman Jilter Cros

As he picked himself up from where he had fallen to take cover from the artillery, he saw broken bodies of civilians and guardsmen strewn across the bridge. He, along with the Morridanes and other Cadians, tried to restore order and get the civilians, off the bridge quickly but orderly and adhering to orders.

[Morrdh]

319th Morridane Rovers
B Squadron
No.6 Troop
1135 Hours

As the civilians were processed in a seemingly orderly fashion, O'Dea had voxed for a resupply to replenish both fuel and munitions for the Troop's AFVs. Taking advantage of the downtime, O'Dea had also ordered for each of the AFV to receive field maintenance in turn to ensure all systems were functional and minor battle damage was repaired. Each crew saw to their own vehicle whilst the other three crews remained on sentry, though some would eat rations and catch a brief nap.

The resupply convoy had arrived and O'Dea ordered the crews of each AFV to collect their supplies in turn, that way at least two of the AFVs were ready for action should the need arise. O'Dea was busy directing the crew of a fuel browser to refuel his vehicle when somebody cried out "INCOMING!!!!"

Time seemed to slow as artillery shells whistled overhead and came crashing down amidst the environs of the fort in blossoms of fire and smoke. There were cries of alarm and screams of panic as the civilians to flee in any and all directions, little knowing or even caring that they were getting in the way of the Imperial soldiers. The panic spread as the civilians fled the fort, desperately seeking safety from the barrage and causing others who'd already been processed to start panicking.

O'Dea tried shouting orders, though the screaming of the civilians and the thunder of the barrage made it almost impossible for him to be heard by anyone. Worse, he was certain he'd seen some of his Troop being swept away by the rolling tide of humanity.

---

Air Marshal Alizabeth Kaldwin
Aeronautica Korinthia
Spaceport
1135 Hours

Alizabeth was getting ready to leave for the Capitol Imperialis when there was a sudden flurry of activity in Operations. Collaring an Aeronautica personnel, she demanded. "What is happening?"

"Mam," The man squeaked and hastily saluted. "Imperial ground forces in Fort Travium report being under heavy enemy artillery fire, they've requesting air strikes to neutralize enemy batteries."

"I see." Replied Alizabeth. "What Tactical units are available for tasking?"

"Lets see...." Said the man as he consulted a dataslate. "Theres a flight of Vulture gunships that put down half hour ago for refuelling and rearming, they should be ready about now mam."

"If they aren't, tell them to go with what they've got." Snapped Alizabeth. "We need to show the Guard what we can do."

"Yes mam." The man replied, saluting before hurrying off. "I'll get on with it right away."

[Sweillia]

Colonel Lev Voronesky
Eastern Tower
1050

As the Vostroyans approached the tower, Voronesky believed that they would most likely not see any combat that day. It appeared to him to be the motif of their involvement in the Crusade. They were late for the initial landings, and were held back. They were late for attacking Fort Travium, and were sent in the opposite direction. It seemed only logical that they follow the pattern and arrive late for attacking the tower and get sent somewhere else. He was genuinely devising ways to occupy himself in the event that the 6th end up just marching in circles. But to find out that they were late to the tower they would first have to reach it, and so they marched on.

The 1st Battalion had split itself in to companies in order to make the journey easier. The 'infrastructure' of the city had been reduced to literal dust from the relentless artillery bombardments, but Voronesky doubted there had been much there too begin with. This obviously made it difficult for some hundred thousand odd men to move efficiently, particularly the column formation marching favoured by the 6th. This is how the march was organised: the 1st Company moved ahead on the least damaged main roads as it was the unit that the Colonel and his staff had attached themselves to and served as an ad hoc vanguard, the 2nd and 3rd Companies were roughly a kilometre to the left and right of the 1st, respectively, the 4th was roughly a kilometre behind the 1st and the 5th, deviating from the standard column formation for a wider, line formation were following behind 4th, serving as reserves.

"All this reminds me of training back on Vostroya... all these abandoned husks, its only missing the cold. And the yells of Heretski," remarked the Cub, as he glanced around the ruins they passed by, and occasionally through.

Voronesky felt it too, "How's that old codger still kicking? It seems only the Grey Lady sees anything of value in him now." he chimed in. Heretski was, or maybe had been, Voronesky wasn't sure, the man in charge of the monumental task of organising the training of the Firstborn. In Lev's mind, and in that of many others, however, Heretski held no power that was not symbolic. He made a habit of watching training sessions from were everyone could see him, and incessantly make commentary on anything and everything. Though the real problem was that he would often repeat what he had said the day before and to the very same group, yet always deliver these comments with the air of a man who has just had a truly unique thought, never conceived of by anyone else ever in human history, a truly revolutionary insight. He still only held the position as he had been appointed to it for life due some 'political concern' or another, but he refused to meet that one condition by which he would be liquidated from his position.

When the front of the 1st Company was about a kilometre and a half from the tower, Voronesky rode on ahead to speak with the commanding officer of the Telrade 4th Heavy, whom they were meant to aid in pushing back the heretics on and around the walls. As he understood it for one reason or another the regiment had entered the tower through from the walls rather than through a front door of any sort. In case the tower wasn't fully under their control he preferred to stay safe and follow the route taken by the Telrade, and thus set off not to the tower directly. He of course took his 'staff' with him. He didn't trust them enough leave them alone with the men, but he suspected that taking them with him would yield a much better result. Voronesky did hold some sympathy for them and what some would call their foolishness. He felt that they needed to get it out now while they didn't hold any position of significant power, so that when they do, all preconceived notions had been upturned and their perception wasn't clouded by unfounded illusions.

"Keep your hands to yourselves!" he proclaimed to the young officers, assuming how they would behave based on his own experiences being their age. Being firstborn, they didn't particularly spend much time with those of the other sex, considering their mandatory military service it was seen as a waste of time. "You are not only representing yourself, not even only the regiment, but all of Vostroya. Let not them say that that world of ours, that home of ours is one populated with savages."

Having arrived at the tower and dismounted their horses, Voronesky turned to the Cub, "Stay at the back, make sure they don't go wandering off." Outside there were a few soldiers performing some duties. Having spotted Voronesky and his party they attempted to at least ask them who they were and why they were there, but the Vostroyans ignored them, with the exception of one of the staff who handed the reins of his horse to one of the soldiers, and then rushed inside. Voronesky had intended to answer their questions, but what seemed to be a stray shell landed dangerously close and the young officers started to sheepishly crowd inside, and so, desperate to not let them out of his sight, he followed them.

Inside was bustling with activity. Women running to and fro, carrying supplies, messages and wounded. The ground shook violently, every other moment, it seemed. Voronesky asked the first important looking person he could see about their commanding officer. They were directed to a colonel instead, the commanding officer was general, who would probably know more about her whereabouts. With that knowledge they went off, as quickly as possible as to not let his 'staff' get distracted.

She was leaning over a table, some maps and other documents on it and around her were a number of officers. Even hunched over and facing away from him, Voronesky felt slightly intimidated by her. He unconsciously shifted his hat to stand as straight up as possible. "Colonel!" he exclaimed as she turned around. Facing him directly and upright she seemed even more intimidating. "Would you happen to know where the General Nasiritan is presently?" he continued. The colonel responded to him by explaining that the general was currently on the lower levels of the tower, fighting. Admirable, to be sure, Voronesky thought himself of such actions, if not extremely risky. "Well, I suppose then I must tell you, that the 6th Vostroyan is headed for the base of the eastern tower. I was planning for a breach at the base and then continuing upwards, eventually meeting the Telrade. I believe such an attack from both sides could greatly hasten eliminating resistance in the tower securing wholly. Unless, of course, it contradicts your existing plans or any other circumstances, that is."

[Bolslania]

319th Morridane Rovers
B Squadron
No.6 Troop
1135 Hours

As the civilians were processed in a seemingly orderly fashion, O'Dea had voxed for a resupply to replenish both fuel and munitions for the Troop's AFVs. Taking advantage of the downtime, O'Dea had also ordered for each of the AFV to receive field maintenance in turn to ensure all systems were functional and minor battle damage was repaired. Each crew saw to their own vehicle whilst the other three crews remained on sentry, though some would eat rations and catch a brief nap.

The resupply convoy had arrived and O'Dea ordered the crews of each AFV to collect their supplies in turn, that way at least two of the AFVs were ready for action should the need arise. O'Dea was busy directing the crew of a fuel browser to refuel his vehicle when somebody cried out "INCOMING!!!!"

Time seemed to slow as artillery shells whistled overhead and came crashing down amidst the environs of the fort in blossoms of fire and smoke. There were cries of alarm and screams of panic as the civilians to flee in any and all directions, little knowing or even caring that they were getting in the way of the Imperial soldiers. The panic spread as the civilians fled the fort, desperately seeking safety from the barrage and causing others who'd already been processed to start panicking.

O'Dea tried shouting orders, though the screaming of the civilians and the thunder of the barrage made it almost impossible for him to be heard by anyone. Worse, he was certain he'd seen some of his Troop being swept away by the rolling tide of humanity.

---

Air Marshal Alizabeth Kaldwin
Aeronautica Korinthia
Spaceport
1135 Hours

Alizabeth was getting ready to leave for the Capitol Imperialis when there was a sudden flurry of activity in Operations. Collaring an Aeronautica personnel, she demanded. "What is happening?"

"Mam," The man squeaked and hastily saluted. "Imperial ground forces in Fort Travium report being under heavy enemy artillery fire, they've requesting air strikes to neutralize enemy batteries."

"I see." Replied Alizabeth. "What Tactical units are available for tasking?"

"Lets see...." Said the man as he consulted a dataslate. "Theres a flight of Vulture gunships that put down half hour ago for refuelling and rearming, they should be ready about now mam."

"If they aren't, tell them to go with what they've got." Snapped Alizabeth. "We need to show the Guard what we can do."

"Yes mam." The man replied, saluting before hurrying off. "I'll get on with it right away."

Guardsman Jilter Cros

He heard the whistle, he heard the yell, but he couldn't react fast enough. The shell landed almost directly in front of him, flinging him off the bridge, he saw, but didn't feel his legs be blown off by the shrapnel. He was in a daze as he fell towards the river, he blacked out 3/4 of the way down.


Corporal Cupphon Cane

He was now beginning to pace.

"Where the hell are they?" He said, Letit and Purdi shrugged, they were on there 3rd and 4th cigarette respectively. Cane sat down and breathed a loud sigh.

"Incoming!" Purdi yelled, the men through themselves flat on the ground, eventually, they realized the artillery wasn't for them. They stood up and watched the clouds of smoke and shrapnel drift into the air with sinking hearts.

[Acerbez]

Fort Travium
1150

The hidden militia artillery contingent that poured from the manufactorum District made a gamble by leaving their guns pre loaded and all munitions unmoved surrounding their artillery and it paid off... Sort of.

Their capacity to fire and excitement to do so gave them optimal efficiency with the various armaments for the better part of 10 minutes until the screeching sound of Loyalist vultures pierces the sky on a brief window of silence from the Krieg counter batteries.

The sheer volume of the counter bombardment meant that the indirect fire was not in vain. Despite the inaccuracy and scarce amount of near or direct hits, the hive itself was taking damage and the overhead architecture gave way to the punishment as well. Sending chunks of debris downwards onto the militia artillery.

It was lucky enough that the sudden rebel attack had initiative and moxxy to lay into the newly garrisoned forces of Fort Travium. The rebels saturation paled in comparison to the response it recieved, regardless of the perceived volume they dished out. Less than 30,000 shells fell randomly and dispersed across Fort Traviums Island but the sound and movement of the rebel guns were dying out quickly. From shell shock, from strafe runs, and from depleting morale in the face of the loyalist response.

Colonel director Disenko did his best not to place his fist in the holo-lith and shatter its screen, seeing as the Western ramparts had not redirected their trajectories at all. Frequent calls came into Vox transmissions for a request to dismount the uncemented batteries and pull back whatever they could to a secured KIG position. The situation had deteriorated faster than it started and a rook was sacrificed to damage pawn positions all for not it seemed.

"Request approved..." Disenko chimed in while gritting his teeth. "Dismount every able battery with haste and rally with rear guard forces."

The order came in just 7 minutes after the arrival of the Vulture gunships and saw a chaotic scene of men turning tail and others attempting to disassemble heavy weapon pieces.

Granted a slight victory was to be had... Out of the slight loss of immobile earth shaker batteries and petty men, the refugee situation had gone awry as civilians along the bridge, within Fort Travium, and on the south banks began to run amok and without order. Breaking apart into groups for cover for ground, and to beat the queue. Fort Travium would see thousands make a run for it toward the north Gallery.

In a state of panic, odd movement came from the furthest reaches of the refugee body that still poured, although much more slowly, from the hives girth. What appeared to be an armed commotion soon became apparent as cultists differing in appearance to the militia had regurgitated from the darkened depths of the hive and they began mowing down the refugee on their own accord.

Las guns, flamers, grenade launchers, etc from both men on foot and lightly armoured vehicles and trucks.

"For Chaaaaaaaosssss!" they cheered cheekily while swathes of innocents fell to the earth and soil, lifeless and dead.

Oddly enough, if any were paying attention, some refugee outright refused to treat east or west in light of some hidden knowledge or forewarning. It would be difficult to ascertain however the sound or placement of some explosions but it was obvious that the refugees were left with no choice but to stampede north toward the galleries and star port.

Cultists would dismount from a number of trucks and begin hoisting up immense 20ft poles with long dead individuals dead strapped to them. Covered and decorated in the dark runes and symbols of the ruinous powers. No different than the stories of tales told past, these "posts" were erected and stood on the support of prongs and bodies, sacreligious iconography stood to face Fort Travium from the south banks just at the opening of the districts.

The scene unfolding would be entirely different than the typical militia's M.O. The feeling of something ominous would hang in the air, minds, and hearts of any that looked upon the hundred or so stacks of mutilated posts... Chaos banners.

More of a rabble than their militia counterparts, the Cultists would be u phased by the Vultures and fire their assorted guns in the air chaotically and without abandon regardless of the effectiveness.

For their Gods, they meant to show their fearlessness.

[Bolslania]

Colonel Korster

"Holy shit!" He yelled as the cultists began to mow down the civilians he yelled at the vox-box operator

"Signal all units to open fire on the cultists!" The order went out. Lasgun and lascannon fire began to more out of the Cadian line, blowing apart dozens of cultists in the initial salvo. the situation was disorganized, shooting everywhere, civilians running and screaming or being mowed down, people being disintegrated. One man roadie-running past the command dugout had his brains blown out all over the dugout, his body sliding in behind his de-craniated brain. The vox-box operator reeled back and began sobbing pitifully, sinking to the ground, another guardsman tried to get him on his feet, but the man was unresponsive.


Guardsman Portello

He ducked as dirt exploded in front of him from a lasgun blast, he swore and returned fire, he saw a man fall under his barrage. He adjusted and began shooting at a clump of cultists, most fell immediately, but he was firing rapidly, and his accuracy decreased, he therefore missed a few of them.