Sector. Korinthia. A once prosperous dominion of Mankind. A bastion of the Imperium amid the blackness of space. How far has it fallen from the glory that once wreathed these worlds? I could only guess. But if there was something that I am certain, it is that there is no hope for those who would defy the Will of Man, and the Light of the Emperor will be brought back to these worlds. By fire and blood.-Excerpt from the Memoirs of Arkadian Theodosian, 457.438.M41
244.439.M41
It was two weeks of transit in the Warp upon leaving Port Clarence in Sector Basilia to reach the Korinthia Sector. Lord Admiral Erenthes, an impeccable Naval officer if their ever was one, assured me that his conversations with several Navigators indicated the currents of the Empyrean were becalmed. That the light of the Astronomican shown bright and clear. The God-Emperor Himself shining the way for His servants. During that time I wasted no time. Through intense Astropathic messaging I convened and discussed with various Colonels, Commanders, Captains of ships, and other persons of rank. Battle plans were discussed in extensive detail. All respective commanders pouring over their Munitorum issued maps, charts, and augur readings. Intelligence was sparse and usually months out of date. For two years the Sector has been engulfed in the fires of war and many worlds have fallen silent. Others the portents speak ill. Archenemy and cursed Eldar Corsairs raiding colonies and outposts. Even worse, the foul Greenskin menace has made planet fall on several inhabited moons of in the Euclid Trail. No doubt desecrating the Holy Worlds of Man with the putrid filth of their wrongful existence! Be it as it may, Mankind will have its vengeance, and I comfort myself in the courage and dedication of those fellow servants of the Throne around me. We are the vanguard of a Crusade. A Crusade of the righteous to take back what is ours. The Stars and Worlds of this Galaxy belong to Mankind and no one else. Suffer not the Traitor, Heretic, and Xenos to live... -Excerpt from the personal diary of General Kastia Valerkov, commander of the 1st Imperial Army of the Korinthian Crusade.
The Korinthia System was binary. A large Blue Giant and a smaller yellow main sequence star not unlike that which bathed the Throneworld. Possessing three asteroid belts and twelve planetary bodies. Half of which were gas giants. The others save Korinthia itself were lifeless rocks or covered in ice. Devoid of all life and easily attainable minerals. Despite the occasional mining expedition sent periodically throughout the systems history. All were temporary endeavors. But, Korinthia itself, was a world teaming with natural resources. Indeed, much of the systems wealth was built upon the raw material stripped from its surface and fed to the ever multiplying factoriums of the planets growing Hive Cities. Already possessing a population of over ten billion before being cut off by Warp Storms in 437.
The Imperial Navy elements known as Taskforce Upsilon exited Warp Space mid system. Well beyond the outer reaches of the system and thus atypical. Normally, ships would enter and exit the Warp at the outskirts of a system, known as Mandeville Points, which is far enough away from Celestial bodies for safety purposes. To overshoot or be too close to a celestial body was to risk utter catastrophe. But, the other reason the Korinthia system was logistically valuable was that it had a stable route open for most of the year that was far enough from various celestial bodies along the Z-axis of the system's stars. Indeed, the Taskforce and the following Guard transport vessels exited the Warp, heralded by crackling malevolent portals tearing the fabric of realspace, to form up around the mighty Emperor-Class Battleship Imperator Dominus. The flagship of the Taskforce. As such, arriving much closer to their target, the sub-light leg of their journey which would have taken many days was achieved in half the time. Arriving in High Anchor approximately eight Terran Solar Days and three hours upon exit from the Warp.
The space above Korinthia was home to four lifeless husks of orbital defense stations. Their damaged, pockmarked, devoid of atmosphere frames listing lifelessly in geo-synchronous orbit. Indeed, as Erenthes would confirm after expecting them to open fire on the Taskforce as it approached, Naval marine teams reported back that all they found were bodies. Evidently, from Vidcast captures and the stations black box records detailed the brief exchange of fire between the stations as loyalists and traitors turned on each other. Mutually destroying one another when one, loyalist or traitor one could not say, unleashed an orbital's firepower on another. The other three replying to each other in kind as a result of the infighting taking place.
As such, the bulky guard transports were able to join the Naval taskforce in anchor above the planet unmolested, and Operation Dawn Strike would commence on schedule. The timing of which could not have been more impeccable as the traitors launched an assault on the last significant pocket of loyalist resistance in the Hive. Intense fighting was all along the Southern half of the district on the Northern banks of the Eraklion. While, according to Navy pic-cast's taken from orbital scopes. Artillery had struck the Southern third of the Promethium tanks of the Starport. Massive towers of black smoke masking half the Space port and forming their own dark cloud above the Northern hive city.
245.439.M41
Operation Dawn Strike
Operation Dawn Strike called for an assault to commence at Dawn, local hive time, by drop troops and followed within minutes by infantry Regiments. Followed by the rest of the 1st Army. The 109th Harakoni and 1st Corsairs would strike the upper spires of Hive Achaia's Central Spine at 0500. Their overall objective was to secure the spire landing pads and neutralize or capture enemy AA positions. Prisoners of interrogation value were optional but preferred. The 101st Elysians would land to secure the Hive walls bridging the River Eraklion in the west. While the 102nd Elysian would drop on the Star port by 0600. The Arcadian 222nd, III Arrageois, 34th Cadian AT, 501st Minervan Tank Legion, 319th Morridane, and 86th Krieg Siege Regiment, dubbed Battlegroup X-Ray following right behind them at 0630. At which point Battlegroup X-Ray would fan out to secure the bridgeheads or if unable to secure the bridges and the fort was to secure the Northern river walls. To the West, Battlegroup Zephyr comprising the Vostroyans and Valhallan's would move to anchor X-Ray's right flank and match it's progress to the river. The 9004th Fyrrspire would deploy to shield X-ray's left flank and make for the river banks there and link up with the 102nd Elysians. The Outskirts would be secured by the 721st Vardan Rifles landing just West. The rest of the 1st Army was to deploy in around the Hive City, outside of its wall guns, and cut it off from relief; or, reinforce the beachhead in the city itself. Cut off from the outside, and enemies within.
101st Elysian, Dropship 24
0545 Local Time
The transports bucked as turbulence was hit at high speeds. It was dark save for the lumen strips along the bottom and top of the hull. A red light near the cockpit door casting a foreboding glare on the geared up and ready troopers. Between the neat rows, holding onto hand rails, all they could hear was the thrum of the powerful engines of the craft. They were coming in at low altitude. Several hundred meters above the ground as the entire Regiment roared to their destination. In the middle of the block of troopers, an entire company's worth, was plain faced man, short but lean, grasping the hand rail nervously. He was sweating and breathing in deep, before exhaling, beside him an older man turned. "First drop?"
The youth, nineteen, turned left, "First combat drop."
"You don't say kid."
The light behind them flashed yellow. Sergeants shouted, "FIVE MINUTES. CHECK YOUR SHIT!" The A quick flurry of last minute strap, equipment, and weapon checks as the ship began to climb with altitude. The Drop troopers instinctively shifting their body weight as the engines whined. "TWO MINUTES!" The transport jinked to the right quickly. Soldiers shoulders touched as they fought to remain balanced. The decompression of hydraulics as the light finally flickered to green. Ahead of them the company Captain took position beside the door as it slowly yawned open. Bathing the troopers in the dawn's early light. Giving them a scene that none would forget. The distance was wreathed in browns and greys of the ash wastes. The sky was lit by black plumes erupting randomly as Flak batteries lit up the sky with their rounds.
"Go GO GO!" The block of troopers began to move forward as row by row they jumped. The youth, nineteen, earning his jump badge serving in the Elysia system. Never seeing combat however, felt his stomach lurch despite the many hours of training, as he went horizontal. Dipping over the ramp and going head first towards the ground. To his left and right other companies were dropping over objectives. Beneath them were massive walls and towers. A vast cityscape rising up like some vast ancient Terran mountain range towards the heavens. Black puffs of flak. The youth maneuvered his thrusters as below him. Flying what seemed like inches above the wall, but in reality dozens of meters, a Thunderbolt in the livery of the Phantine Air Corps chased a traitor Thunderbolt. Bright flashes of the Phantine craft's lascannons seeking to strike home.
All around the sky was lit with fire as dozens of flak batteries, friendly and enemy, ripped the sky asunder. Meanwhile, traitor planes dogfighted with the pilots of the Navy's Aeronatica Korinthian, 8th Phantine Air Corps, and 803rd Korinthian Air Legion. The city scape flashed as shadows were parted by figher-bomber strikes as daring straffing runs were launched. It was chaos incarnate unleashed in Hive Achaia.
Swinging his body around the grav chute thrusters blazed as he slowed his descent. Hitting the ferrocrete pavement of the wall as lasbolts, bolter shells, and autogun bullets gouged the surfaces around him in every direction. Before him he saw his Captain and his squad engaged in a furious close range melee with an enemy Flak crew. To his right a platoon exchanging las fire from behind a partially destroyed wall as they aimed up at a tower shooting down at them. To his left a trooper hurled a bandolier of grenades into a tower. The resulting explosion blew debris and body parts out the windows. A shambling enemy trooper walked out covered in dust, body bloody from shrapnel, only for an Elysian to come up and put a lasbolt through the back of his skull.
The Star Port
222nd Arcadian, 0602 local time
The 102nd Elysian had landed and immediately was tied up with fighting among the massive Prometheum fuel silos. Engaging enemy militia battalions amid the black smoke wreathed facilities. Trooper Natham Hood readied his lasgun as the doors opened, the lander touching down, the first eight ranks hitting the pock marked, shell cratered star port pavement, while the massive girders, clamps, and buildings of the port were in various states of damage. Shuffling forward Hood looked up as the first ranks were struck by streams of heavy bolter fire. Troopers burst into gibbets, skulls exploded, and torsos ripped asunder.
"Out the side!" a trooper behind him said and Hood practically fell out of the transport as the side hatches burst open as their emergency release bolts fired. The troopers clambering out in three directions as they sought cover in nearby buildings, shell craters, or in one case a trooper merely stacking a dead trooper on another and laying prone behind. A rocket fired from a port office building struck the transport interior. Hitting the fuel tanks as the bird burst apart with a cacophonous boom.
Hood moved crouch forward to compatriot huddled behind a low demarcation wall when the shrill whine of mortar shells came overhead. "INCOMING!" Some one shouted, Hood didn't know who as the Arcadians sprinted forward to cover. Hood was almost there when he felt his body suddenly go airborne. Landing with a crunch in a shell crater. His back burning. He tasted blood in his mouth. Hand smearing his mouth he looked and saw blood on his hands. He had bit his lip. Looking down his legs were still there. His ears ringed a high pitched scream as the world seemed to slow around him.
"MAMA! MAMA! AAAH!" Not twenty meters away a soldier, abdomen torn open like a ratty rag, loops of intestines in a clump beside him as he fought to put them back in. Crying out in agony for his mother. Hood blinked as a second mortar impacted nearby him. Casting grout and dust all over his form. Looking slowly, as time seemed to stand still, he saw a trooper walking about slowly. As if confused. Turning, Hood saw the man reach down and pick up an arm and began to run away. It was then that Hood realized the trooper had had his right arm blown off.
"GET UP HOOD!" Boots hitting pavement Hood craned his neck to see his squad Sergeant running up to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder strap to haul him up, "Get U-" Red mist splashed his seventeen year old face as the sergeant's chest cavity exploded from a bolter shell. Eye's wide Hood groggily got up to his feet and began to race forward. Crashing next to the squad crouched behind the demarcation wall. It's surface becoming more brittle and pockmarked by the minute from the withering fire of the traitors. The Arcadian's doing what they could to return fire. A hundred meters away a platoon had taken up shelter amid some burnt out air speeders and was exchanging las fire with enemy forces firing from windows. Hood watched an Arcadian with a rocket launcher lean out and send a Krak missile through a window. A traitor bodily soaring out head over heels to hit the ferrocrete with a sickening crunch.
Hands padded his shoulder, "Hood you coming!" We're moving up!" it was Gregory, one of his old friends from his Hiver days back on Arcadia. Him and many of the boys from his school in the slums of the Arcadian Hives had joined the Guard at enlistment age. Adventure and excitement was what the recruitment posters had said. But now, all he wanted was to be back him in his small family hab apartment on Arcadia. Hood nodded slowly. The squad moving up quickly and sprinting forward. Making for a half demolished set of ground tractors that had once serviced the port. Lasbolts and autogun fire danced around them as they ran with all their might. Greg fell. Hood stopped in his tracks and grabbed his friend's shoulder straps to haul him along.
Hood made it ten feet before a shockwave caused him to face plant on the pavement. His nose and face bruised, battered, and bloody. He got up with a grunt, grapping the straps of his friend's harness he began to move forward as weapons fire continued to crisscross the star port in ever growing intensity. He was moving too fast? Looking back, his eyebrows raised, "Ah-uh ugh," Hood vomited. His long time friend's lifeless eyes looking up at him. Where his stomach and legs should have been was just a trailing lower spine and bits of morsel.
Crashing next to his squad his mind was tumultuous. All he could remember was his training. Everything was a blur around him now as officers screamed orders. Commissars urged men forwards. The sky lit up by tracer fire and the whine of artillery of even greater caliber as following regiments landed and disgorged their men and machines. Reaching down Hood pulled out his sword bayonet. Fixing it to the lugs on the end of his lasgun he muttered a final prayer to the Emperor. "Hood what are you doing?!" one of his squad mates yelled in shock as Hood straightened and lowering his lasgun. Charged. If he died a hero then maybe his sister back on Arcadia could get into the Schola. Maybe his family would be awarded for his heroic sacrifice? Wishful thinking. But the Emperor Protects.
Thus it was, lone guardsman against all odds, bayonet fixed, racing against the hailstorm of fire. It was a sight as some of the enemy paused, unable to believe what they were seeing, while the Arcadians could only watch their lone compatriot racing across hundreds of meters of open ground. Charging the enemy head on. The Regimental Commissar even paused. But this was sight of unwavering courage was all that was needed. Shouting the Commissar pointed to their hard charging compatriot! "FORWARD MEN! COURAGE! FOLLOW YOUR COMRADE!" The drums of the Arcadians began to beat as thousands of guardsmen fixed bayonets and with a roar of defiance they charged forward in the footsteps of their comrade.
The enemy, shocked, could only see even more guardsmen coming from behind these charging soldiers. Fear gripped them as the Arcadians hurled grenades and were among them. The Star Port was ostensibly won by the Arcadian 222nd, but in truth many among the Regiment would whisper about the lone guardsman Nathum Hood who, like Ollanius Pius reborn, went in alone without expectation of others to follow.
Battlegroup Zephyr
0715 Local Time
While the Arcadians, no doubt soon joined by the Arrageois, Kriegers, and other forces fought their way to the bridges and across the Space Port. The Vostrayans and Valhallans of Battlegroup Zephyr were fighting amid the urban sprawl of the Northern Galleries. Loyalist PDF forces occasionally emerging at various points and in equally variable strength to join them as they fought their way South to the river. The 41st Vostroyan's tenaciously working their way to the wall and even into it. Fighting their way up towers and across wall segments. While down in the streets the Valhallans fought through streets, boulevards, shops and homes, across galleries and throughout stair wells.
Amid half collapsed balconies and partially demolished hab apartments the Valhallans fought their way until at exactly 0756 local time the Valhallans had reached the Northern embankments of the River Eraklion. Shortly before or after, it was somewhat unclear, the Vostroyan's raised the banner of the 41st on the Southern side of the river Eraklion. Occupying the tower directly south of it despite a ferocious traitor counter-assault.
Star Port
0830 Local Time
An Aquila Lander lifted off to leave a party of over a dozen individuals on the moonscape of the star ports landing zones. General Kastia Valerkov watched large columns of Guardsmen from half a dozen regiments moving before her in several directions. Outside, even more Regiments would be landing to surround the city. While the outskirts were taken with but a brief firefight by the 721st Vardan Rifles. Over head the skies had been mostly won by the Imperial air forces.
Behind her a quartet of Tempestus Scions as her personal guards, a Sanctioned Psyker, a Naval Liaison, and a team of Vox Casters. Several adjutants made up the rest as she began to move to the large monolithic Starport structures immediately North-West of the rectangle landing and service zones. That was where her head quarters would be put and where she would meet the surviving loyalist commanding officers.
Looking around her, the air was a warm 20 degrees Celsius, overcast with wind blowing from the West to the East.