The Emperor's Finest: Korinthia (IC)

[Imperialisium]

https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?p=36361899#p36361899

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 Intelligence was sparse and usually months out of date.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.

[Parcia]

245.439.M41
Operation Dawn Strike
0500

Operation: Dawn Strike

The Flight of Valkyrie drop ships shuddered as they roared over the ash-lands. The Wastes below populated with mutants and slum dogs they cared little for. The Battle Plan was a product of General Kastia Valerkov, but the Mode of execution for the 109th was distinctly...Harakoni. They were out numbered, out gunned, and likely to take mass casualties, yet they road the ground low, avoiding detection from the enemy air defenses and sparing their rather bloated and weighted drop ships from flak fire. In formation behind them lay the transport of the 1st Cascan, a single large, lumbering Devourer drop ship.

The Plan fell inline with the over all doctrine the Regiment: Overwhelming fire power at over whelming speeds. The 30 supporting gunships of the 109th's support detachment screeched down from high orbit, in two waves. The birds carried not troops, yet were with bombs, rockets, and missiles. Their objective was a large landing complex on the 4th highest level of the central spire. Large enough to land several large transports and craft; Said pad was flanked by two smaller pads which would provide two extra placed to land troops and men, though they were not the top priority as they were sat on structural extensions of the main pad, which sat on a reinforced base atop a large high end hab block.

Their intelligence suggested the enemy was out of Guided missiles and instead the traitors guarded the complex with a set of hydra flak tanks. Short ranged, but deadly none the less. On top of this, roughly a dozen other flak guns were scattered about the surrounding hive spire, which towered above the complex another thousand feet or so. The First wave of 15 emerged from the gigantic furball of aerial combat almost on top of the complex, the assorted rocket pods and heavy lass cannons firing on the first set of flak tanks, rendering them in to flaming hulks with in moments. To their credit the enemy responded with practiced speed and soon the formation became under heavy fire with what remained of the Complex's aerial defense unit as they screeched by, earning momentary responses in the form of rapid stubber fire as the infamous rotary heavy stubbers of the 109th's door guns fire back. None the less, two birds would find their end this day, both suffering critical damage and crashing in to the spire as they fell.

The Second wave came soon after, their own load of smart bombs, heavy rockets and lass cannons strafing the hardened Rock-crete and plasssteel reinforced deck before they found their mark, rendering the rest of the Hydra battery in to molten slag and their crews either dead or fleeing. Both wings would break off and banked hard, using the furball as impromptu cover as they came around and began to hammer the remaining AA batteries with what munitions they had left. They had succeeded in cracking the Complex's air defenses and in creating a dead zone were the troops could land, but at a heavy cost of 6 birds destroyed and nearly all suffering battle damage.

The Drop ships had ducked low once they passed over the walls, their engines screaming like Banshees and the Crimson wings that adorned the transports of the 109th would be a welcome sight to both the Elysians and the Arcadians...one could imagine their less well armed and armored cousins were envious of their Harakoni kin.

They road as low as they could, dodging and weaving through the scattered ground fire yet found little in the way of concentrated flak fire until they near the spire. Upon reaching the lower levels of the spire, they would tilt up at nearly a 90 degree angle and ascended rapidly, the lumbering form of the Cascan's transport doing the same, their men no doubt hold on for dear life as the navy pilots opened the transport's throttle and climbed with the Valkyries. With most of the guided munitions gone or inoperable and their directed flak batteries largely occupied with the utterly massive air battle, the transports were largely ignored.

Coming over the edge of the spire, the Valkyries rapidly slowed, though not completely, and opened their side doors. One by one the men and women of the 109th leaped out, their grav chutes deploying and their rifles held ready as they descended the 500 feet and hit the ground running...

The Architect of this mad plan, this blitz of warfare from the sky, was a little known officer, but his man called him...Godfather.
Today, in the name of the Emperor, he would give the traitors a taste of Harakoni Shock Combat.


1st Lt. Johanna "Violet" Essmie
5th Company "Nomas"
109th Harakoni...


She hit the deck with a roll, her camoline cape fluttering behind her. Coming to a kneeling position she leveled the long lass on the nearest target her Spotter-Skull had marked. Roughly 400 meters ahead of were she, and most of the 109th for that matter had landed, lay a pair of fortified pill box, armed with heavy stubbers, that flanked the bridge connecting the complex to the spire it self. They were already firing on the drop troopers as they landed and it presented the most dire threat her little invisible friend had marked. As she stood still her cloak settled and began to bend the light around her causing her to seemingly shimmer out of existence, the only note of her location being a transponder code that every member of the 109th could see on their helmet's HUD. Zeroing in the scope, she emptied her lung, centered the cross hairs on the enemy gunner, and pulled the trigger. The shot lanced out from the long lass and impacted the traitor dead in the forehead, melting his helmet and causing most of his head to explode.

Above her one of the transports of Anvil flight caught a stray flak shell and it's wing burst in to flames. The men in side filed out as the bird began to spin to the ground, impacting one of the side pads some 300 meters or so off to her right. Her mind snapped back to the pill box as another traitor tool up the position of his dead friend and she taught him the error of his ways immediately. Burning a hole in his chest, she let the rifle cool for a split second before taking aim at the twin linked heavy stubber it self. Again emptying her lung, she pulled the trigger and impacted the weapon, causing it to super heat and melt in to slag. It would be an utter bitch to remove later, but for now it would save the lives of many of her Kinsmen.

Shifting her aim to the next target, she found a small barricade of sand bags built around an auto cannon that belched out rounds at her allies. Noticing the gun shield held a small opening for a gun sight, she took aim a few inches above it, emptied her lungs and pulled the trigger. The gun shield, normally resistant to lass rifle fire, yielded to the higher wattage of her long lass and a hole was melted through right were the head of the gunner sat. While she couldn't see her kill, she could tell the bolt had found it's mark as the gun stopped firing long enough for a Krak missile to lance out and impact the gun, rendering it in to slag.

She repeated this again and again, sniping gunners and exposed traitors, her suppressed lass bolt being drowned out by the cacophony of war and its nearly invisible beam being just that. When her Spotter-skull, happily floating 100 feet above her and it self invisible, noted an advancing company of traitor shock troops storming bridge towards the complex in an attempted to a counter she smiled and stood up fully. Having just enough clearance over the sand bag barricade, she spied the peaked hat of an officer who she wagered to be leading the charge and erased the top of his exposed skull in short order.

Her regiment mates were not oblivious to this and soon enough most of the HQ company, lead by cigar Smoking Colonel Apone, took up positions at the barricade along side the heavy bolter and stubber teams of the 4th company. As the enemy neared the barricade the Colonel stood on top of it and fired a bolt of plasma in to the Traitor guardsmen as they neared. The men of the 1st and 4th companies would do the same, utterly savaging them as they ran in to a wall of lass, stubber, and bolter fire.

Behind her, the heavy Thump of reinforced landing feet reverberated through the pad. Turning she saw the bulky form of the Devourer transport settle down on the deck, it's heavy lass cannons opening up on guns positions and MG nests on the spire. The front of the massive lander opened and out streamed the 1st Corsairs, shouting and hollering out their war cries as they charged. Spirited, courage filled men, though still disciplined and motivated they were amateurs. To give them their due credit, they formed up and pushed along side the 109th across the landing pad.

With some modicum of heavy fire support on the pad and most of the enemy AA dealt with, the Valkyries hauling the 4th Company's Saber and Tarantula gun turrets screeched over head. The Saber platforms were dropped at certain points along the pad, creating a ring of heavy weapons that began to open up on the enemy spire in front of them. The Tarantula's were dropped at point's along the platforms edge, their armored feet drilling in to the reinforced deck and their autonomous search programs having them track and target various enemy aircraft that strayed too close. One each was dropped on the pillboxes that flanked the approach and faced the bridge.

They would instantly lock on to the now retreating mass of enemy storm troopers and fill their backs with heavy bolter fire. Starting out in to a run she would make her way towards the Barricade and end up alongside the 1st company and their Colonel, who raised him self every now and then to fire a plasma bolt at the enemy. As she took cover a pair of Valkyries would hover over head, their door gunners lighting up the last of the retreating enemy and clearing them out. Roaring over the regimental Vox channel, Godfather spoke "Alright, second push to the other side, roughly 120 meters with no cover nor railing. We need to establish a beach head and prevent them from Demoing the damned thing."

With most of the 109th taking cover around and behind her, The colonel would take a step over the edge just as the Turrets ceased their firing. "Come on you apes, you wan't to live forever!" This drew a loud, roaring chant of "A'oo A'oo A'oo!" as they filed past her, lead by their Colonel. Charging across the bridge they sprinted over the corpses of their dead enemies, sword bayonets mounted to their carbines and occasionally putting them to use to silence any still living traitors. They reached the other side with haste, taking cover along the sides of the large metal doors just as they swung shut in front of them. "Rocket teams, blow this thing!"

Next to her a pair of launcher teams took their mark and loaded a armor piercing Krak round. The door was large and ornate, befitting the status of an entrance to an upper hive. Along its sides were two large reinforced hinges that presented nice, big targets. With an order to fire, the two rockets lanced out and blew off the two top hinges, then a reload, fallowed by the two bottom hinges. With no more support the doors gave an almighty groan and fell backwards, landing with a deafening crash. Letting the dust clear, the men of the 1st company stood ready to storm inside, only waiting for the order.

"FOR THE EMPEROR, FOR HARAKON, CHARGE!

[Union Princes]

245.439.M41
Battlegroup X-ray

A large, lumbering shadow emerged from the atmosphere overlooking the battlefield from below. Behind it, two more shadows of similar size were trailing behind. The Starport was thankfully secured for Imperial reinforcements to relieve the beleaguered PDF. Three heavy transports flew ominously towards the landing zone, ready to unload its most precious cargo: the Death Korps of Krieg. An entire Siege regiment numbering one million personnel has been chosen the liberate this hive city. The humble 86th “Breakthrough” has been selected to partake in this crusade against chaos.

The first heavy transport has landed amidst the thick smoke and fire from the AA weapons but the Akkadian Devils and the 1st Corsair have already advanced ahead to silence those weapons. Whether they’re actually successful at it remains to be seen but for Krieg, their eyes were on a separate prize. Fort Travium needs to be retaken and by working in conjunction with the 501st Minervan Heavy Tank Regiment, the result would be minimal casualties with more troops available to engage elsewhere.

At least, that's what the commissars assigned to Colonel 86 “Bruchmuller” had advised him to do. By coordinating with the artillery and heavy tank support, the fortress can be taken with little difficulty. The integrity of the fort has already been compromised as its walls was already blasted with numerous holes and craters. The loyalist PDF couldn’t hold the fort for very long due to the lack of proper equipment but Krieg can.

The first transport has landed and out came the 1st division of the 86th Siege. Men, artillery, ammunition, and food were quickly shipped out and assembled into fighting formation. Infantry guns and mortars are rolled out to give fire support to the PDF forces while the Basilisks dropped off began calibrating their cannons for counter-battery fire.

More and more of the 86th Siege were piling in Starport as the other transports unload their cargo as well. Colonel 86 examined his artillerymen driving 60cm mortars into position. In the background, Krieg cannons fired their first salvo of shells at the traitor PDFs, blasting walls down in a concert of blood, bones, and shrapnel.

“Prepare to land three rounds of smoke on the fort!” the commander barked through his gasmask. “Get the engineers and grenadier squads into formation!”

[Bolslania]

Landingship Falcon
Cpl. Cupphon Cane

"Clear the Ship! Clear the Ship!" Sgt. Clustorn yelled. Cane and his spotter, Pvt. Janeson sprinted, as fast as they could with the lascannon and tripod, off the ramp, followed by the infantrymen. One man, Pvt. Sprenti, caught a laser in the face, bits of skull, helmet, and brain splattered against the ramp. The squad piled into a shell hole, and Janeson and Cane set up the lascannon.

"Light vehicle, 2' o'clock!" Janeson called, Cane swiveled the cannon, sure enough, an armored car type was sitting, 500 yds off, pasting some poor infantrymen. Cane sighted in, aiming for the turret drive, and fired. The blast hit an ammo rack, and the turret flew 20 feet into the air, the rest being engulfed in flame.

Pvt. James Russo

As soon as the ramp had dropped, hell had been let loose, an armored car that was sitting in front of his position had been blown to peices by a lascannoner, allowing the 1st platoon to advance. Russo charged forward with his squad towards a pillbox. He was carrying demo charges, and was tasked with destroying the pillbox.

"Cover me!" he yelled, lasrifle fire was directed at the pillbox, dropping two of the traitors. Russo got to the side of the pillbox, and planted the charges. He then sprinted back from the pillbox, nearly making the crater where his squad was taking cover. Before he could reach it, however, a las blast hit him in the back, sending him face-first into the mud.

Sgt. Connor Klerg

"Shit!" he yelled as Russo fell, he scrambled up for the detonator, blasts whizzing by his head. He ducked, and motioned for his squad to do the same, flipping the switch on the detonator. A deafening explosion rocked the battlefield as the charges exploded.

[Sil Arion]

0620 245.439.M41
OPERATION DAWN STRIKE
Lady Colonel-Commissar Atheneia Nikos
Cetaceus-class Transport Argonaut
Geo-sync orbit above Hive Achaia, Planet Korinth

---

“Respectfully, ma’am, the intelligence report is still concerning,” Colonel Aries Phobeion spoke, baritone voice low and level as he stroked his close-shaven black beard streaked with white. The man’s other hand flew across the hololithic display’s interface, movements swift, sure and measured. The image zoomed in on Hive Achaia, highlighting Imperial formations and enemy encounters alongside terrain features and other military symbology. Other senior officers and staff stood about the hangar bay’s uppermost balcony, narrowed eyes under furrowed brows flicking here and there at the ongoing battlefield hundreds of kilometers below. “With this many regiment-sized elements attacking the front, the heretics must have more than Intelligence estimated. Not unless they anticipated our LZ and unwisely concentrated their forces in an area within reach of our lance batteries and far from main supply points—which I doubt given the traitors so much time to prepare.” A chorus of nodded heads and murmured affirmations followed Aries’s declaration.

“You’re not wrong, Colonel,” Atheneia answered, lifting her pipe from her lips. Armored digits rolled across the pommel of her sheathed power sword. It was an unconscious gesture, that of an old tigress yawning as it rose for the hunt. It set her at ease. Reminded her of her place and part to play. A mortal woman who served the God-Emperor of Mankind. A woman called to serve His will here. And a woman who would carry it out regardless of the circumstances. She drew another puff of her pipe as she noticed the seemingly spontaneous conversation was being vox-cast on the regiment-wide comms channel.

Just as planned.

“However, the Emperor wills we be here to reinforce our brothers- and sisters-in-arms. We have the honor to do so again with the might of our guns, steel, and faith.” There was another chorus of nods and murmured ayes at that, and Atheneia continued. “And let us not forget, brothers and sisters, what it means if the intelligence is wrong.” Looks of mild confusion played across her subordinates’ faces, though among some few she saw realization—and theirs were faces of grim pleasure and bared teeth. Atheneia chuckled, the sound melodious, resonant and lilting in the chamber of metal hard and cold. Then she too bared her teeth. “The more they number, the more service we do the Emperor by giving them His mercy.” There were blinks, nods, and many more bared teeth as her senior soldiers guffawed. Guffaws turned to chuckles, then full-blown laughter. She let them laugh – it is good for morale, after all. They silenced when she raised a hand, “Brothers and sisters, today we once more do the Emperor’s good work. Do Him proud as you always have.” Sweeping her hand out, she pointed with her cigar—beyond the balcony lay arrayed regiment below them in parade.

Heavy tanks in their hundreds. Veteran crewmen in their thousands. The 501st Minervan Tank Legion, Victory’s Fist ready and eager for battle as they stood at to ease. Atheneia strode the railing there, Commissar’s great coat flowing behind her in the ship’s fan-borne breeze. She felt fifteen thousand eyes on her and it filled her heart with the fires of pride as she gripped the rail and saw their grim-smiling faces and war-bright gaze. Before her stood the might of Mankind, if only a smallest part. But it was well with her.

“MINERVANS!” Atheneia bellowed through her vox-caster, “AH-TEN-SHUN!” Seventy-five hundred men and women stood to with a thunderous retort which echoed through the cavernous space. She smiled broadly as she puffed on her pipe, blowing out a halo of silvery smoke. “Today, we go again to ! Today, we teach the Archenemy a lesson they’ll well learn by the time we’ve liberated this world! Now, for Minerva! For Humanity! For the Emperor!” Then she drew forth her power sword, power-field crackling with arcs of gold lightning as it surged forth and she spoke in the dialect of their homeworld. “MINERVA INVICTA!”

“MINERVA INVICTA!” rang their fierce reply, and it rolled over Atheneia like a wave of pure glory.

“Then mount up and prepare for glory!” Then she spun about on a heel while sheathing her sword, addressing her officers and staff. “Brothers, sisters, to your posts. We’ve a war to wage in the Emperor’s most holy name. Begin landing your troops.”

[Bolslania]

General Lazius Snortius, CO, 34th Cadian Anti-Tank Regiment, onboard Command cruiser.

The reports coming back from frontline officers, after run through a sound machine to edit out the screaming, explosions, and gunfire, revealed that there had been some confusion in the assault, where the 34th was supposed to have landed on the left flank of the 222nd, and assisted them in taking the bridge, they had instead landed on the other side of the bridge from the 222nd, and were getting the living shit beaten out of them by the rebellious PDF. As the General was ruminating, a com link was established from the ground:

General, this is Lieutenant Krustin, our CO is dead! we have taken massive casualties, we need immediate support!

"We hear you Lieutenant. What is the current situation?" The general replied in a calm voice.

We're pinned down by a outlier fortress, comm links are scattered, and*Lascannon discharge* are being pushed back to the bridge. We need orders and immediate support or we're fucked! Over!"*Rapid lasgun fire**scream*

"Alright, Lieutenant, I'll contact the 222nd and the Navy. Hold out as long as possible, over." Snortius said. He waited for the reply from the Lieutenant, there was none.

"Lieutenant, come in, over." Lazius said.

This is Sergeant Clustorn, the lieutenant is wounded. Over. A new voice came over the comm
Cane, blast that fucking tank! the Sergeant yelled at presumably a lascannoner.

"Alright, hold the line, Sergeant, help is on the way. Over and Out." Lazius finished, he turned to a communications officer.

"Put me on with the 222nd and the Navy." He ordered.

"Yes, sir." the comms officer replied.

Cpl. Cupphon Cane

He swivelled the cannon towards the infidel tank, just as it rotated towards them, he fired off a quick blast at it, but it ricocheted of the tanks frontal armor.

"Hit the deck!" He yelled, the squad hit the dirt as the tank fired its cannon and coaxial bolter, the blast spraying mud, blood, and bits of shrapnel over the ducking squad. as they got back up, Cpl. Cane put his hand right into Janeson's opened up chest cavity, he recoiled, falling onto his back, his hand covered in Janeson's organs, blood, and bits of bone. He stared at his hand, horror expressed all over his face. Sgt. Clustorn fired a few blasts at something, turned to yell at Cane, but his mouth froze, he looked from Janeson to Cane, and duck-ran over to him. He crouched in front of Cane, yelled at him. The force of Cane's helmet being slammed onto his head from where it had been knocked off jarred Cane back into reality.

"Come on Cane, get in the game!" Clustorn yelled at him. He picked up a lasgun and put in in Cane's arm.

"Your a rifleman now, the lascannons scrapped!" the sergeant yelled "Now, let's hold this line until reinforcements arrive. FOR THE EMPORER!"

"FOR THE EMPORER!" Cane yelled back, he stood up, and began firing the lasgun wildly in the direction of the rebellious PDF.

Sgt.Jorhan

"Driver, turn left, Gunner, knock out that enemy tank!" Sgt. Jorhan yelled through the intercom at his crew. He was looking through his periscope at the enemy tank that was currently plastering a lascannon position, he had seen broken body parts and blood fly from the crater, and was now going to purge the traitorous motherfuckers who had killed his brothers in arms. His tank-hunter was one of the few that had survived the 30 minutes of combat that had gone on already, and he was intent on keeping himself and his men alive, but also in fighting for the God-Emperor. He was a seasoned veteran, and had seen his fair share of bloodshed and destruction, and had dished out some of it himself with the las

"This round I fire in the name of the Emporer!" His gunner, Pvt. Luscius, yelled before the defining explosion of the gun rocked the tank-hunter, and slam into the side of the enemy tank, the tank burst into flame, the crew bailing out, Jorhan popped out and mowed them down with the top mounted heavy bolter, ceasing their traitorous existences for good. The Valdor Tank-hunter that he was in command of, while ancient, was still a very dangerous piece of machinery.


Colonel Korster, Regimental Field Command "Tent"

The overglorified crater with some tables, chairs, comm systems, and a tarp layed over it functioning as a field command tent was placed as far back from the front as possible, so about 400 yards. a blast tore through the tarp, causing everyone to duck. The comm chatter presented a situation of mass confusion and distress. One clear message came through:

Shit, they've broken through! They've broken throu-HUUURRK! A yell of rage came from outside the tent

"Shit, grab your weapons! NOW!" Korster yelled at his men, grabbing a chain-dagger and laspistol.

A traitor PDF soldier barged into the tent, spraying it wildly with his lasgun, killing two staff officers, and 1 comm officer. Korster shot him with his laspistol, but kept coming, meeting his end at the blade of Korsters chain-dagger. Blood sprayed all over the tent, and Korster, a seasoned vet from hundreds of campaigns, looked disapprovingly at his blood-soaked uniform.

"Put me on with the general." he said coolly. The comms officer plugged him in.

"Yes, col-"

"Where the fuck is are reinforcements." Korster interjected.

"I'm getting into contact with the Navy and 222nd now, colonel. How is the current situation?"

"Screwed, the lines collapsed, and I'm having to chainsaw PDF soldiers in my HQ tent." Korster said, firing off two blasts at a PDF squad outside the tent.

"Understood, colonel, I'll get reinforcements immediately.


Corporal Cupphon Cane

Cane was in a trance, firing off blasts at anything that moved from the PDF side.

"Awright, we're pulling back to the HQ tent, MOVE!" He heard the sergeant yell from behind him. Cane took off for the tent, his squad with him. They arrived later, running smack into the PDF squad firing into the tent. A PDF soldier turned around, and yelled at his squadmates, as the Guardsmen charged them, bayonets and combat knifes at the ready. Cane lept on one of them, digging his knife into the chest of the PDF heretic. After the others had been killed, the sergeant entered the tent, deploying the others around it.

[Sil Arion]

1000 245.439.M41
Hive Achaia, Planet Korinth
BATTLEGROUP X-RAY
OPERATION DAWN STRIKE
Lady Colonel-Commissar Atheneia Nikos
501st 'Victory's Fist' Minervan Heavy Tank Legion
Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta

---

The command deck was alive with the flurry of wartime activity. Hundreds of men and women sat at consoles or stood about holo-lithic display tables and rows of pict-caster screens, playing data fed through logic-engines from the vehicle’s immense scanners as well as orbital satellites, surveillance aircraft, and recon troops. Orders by voice and vox melded with the distant echoes of battle beyond the armored hull and void shields of the Minerva Invicta as Atheneia surveyed the cavernous chamber. Center to the organized madness was enormous main display table some twenty-meters square in area, around which she and her senior staff officers and advisors settled. Nearby stood many allies too, including liaison officers and command staff from such regiments as the 109th ‘Akkadian Devils’ Harakoni Warhawks and 86th ‘Breakthrough’ Death Korps of Krieg. Even the Battlegroup's commanding officer, Marshal d'Arras himself, was onboard with his staff.

Atheneia’s eyes switched between the scores of pict-caster screens and holo-lithic displays while she watched her regiment finish moving into forward positions behind the cover of ruined buildings and hasty fortifications along the north shore of the River Eraklion. Behind her Hellhammers and squadrons of heavy armour and support vehicles marched masses of grim-face infantrymen, all spiked helms, gasmasks, and trench coats. The forward elements of the 501st Minervan and 86th Krieg assembled and soon be brought to bear against the Archenemy. Center and forward of them all, she noted her own position — that of Minerva Invicta. Her imposing bulk and layered void shields sheltered the gathering central force of combined armor and infantry.

Beyond them, batteries of Krieg and Minervan artillery emplaced among the ruins, craters, and dugouts. Basilisks and Domini, Medusae and Colossi, Griffons and Wyverns — all angled their guns skyward as their crewmen inputted fire control coordinates. Manticores and Praetors did the same, racks angling towards their own targets as missiles’ malevolent machine spirits prepared their flight trajectories.

All towards Fort Travium. A full frontal assault in the Emperor’s Most Holy Name.

Or, at least, that’s how it would first appear to the Archenemy. It was almost a shame their orders were to take Fort Travium in an as-intact-as-possible condition.

“Lady Colonel-Commissar,” came the growling voice of the Colonel Bruchmiller of the 86th Krieg. Atheneia let loose a light chuckle under her breath as she turned to the man who still insisted on wearing his gas-mask while in a fully-sealed and shielded vehicle. More power to him, she supposed. And she took no issue with it—she still wore her refractor field, after all. “Phase One is complete. Smoke screen laid down, half chaff. Depth fifty meters, density three hundred. Will cover area of operations for forty-five to fifty minutes given wind speed and spread.”

She addressed him, “Then, Colonel, I believe the time has come.” At his nod, she turned to the row of waiting vox-operators. “Begin Phase Two.”

---

It began with thunder.

In came screaming the coordinated barrage from batteries of artillery with the simultaneous impacts of thousands of rounds bursting in air above the heretics. Salvos of heavy bunker-busting shells led the way, burrowing deep into the earth to crack open subsurface fortifications and expose their fleshy occupants. Buried vox-lines and retreat tunnels were severed and collapsed under the weight of fire.

Fragmentation-incendiary rounds followed, air-bursting above the heretics laid bare. Clouds of supersonic burning fragments slicing through meat and bone alike in a screaming orgy of violence. Mines, tank traps, and booby traps upon the bridges, fortress-isle and within the river were set off or outright ruined. Called orders were soon drowned out by the explosions as much as the wretched cries of the maimed and dying while the trenches and bunkers turned into charnel houses. Those cries strove to dominate the wind with their volume as order transformed into chaos, for so many officers had fallen beside their thousands of their men in bits and pieces amongst the growing pools of blood and viscera in the half-ruined fortress.

Several seconds later followed the thunderous rapture of the second barrage of simultaneous fires. Another period of several second later, the third barrage. A third period, the fourth. Again and again the artillery rained thunderous hell upon the heretics until two minutes passed until no semblance of order remained as fragments scythed the heretics’ positions, leaving them dripping slaughterhouses. Soon, both bridges, the fortress-isle and river itself lay completely clouded with thick black smoke, airborne chaff and bloody mist, and fewer were the pitiless wails of those heretics that still lived. And none beyond could hear them, for any vox-caster that still functioned played only static to the horror of the survivors in this freshest of hell as the Minervans’ static generators and signal jammers blanketed heretics’ comms in the immediate vicinity of the river. And far beyond, Imperial missiles and ordnance from Basilisks, Manticores and Praetors found their targets in enemy artillery batteries, defence lasers, macrocannons and missile silos, suppressing or silencing them forever.

Then came a dull roar—that of a thousand and more engines. Beneath her feet, Atheneia felt more than heard the thundering rumble of the Minerva Invicta’s engines as she rolled forward towards the north bridgehead. The remnants of a hab-block broke before its armored prow in a cascade of rubble and dust as she revealed herself to an enemy which couldn’t readily see her dynamic entry and glorious debut on this battlefield. Along the north shore of the River Eraklion, six strike forces forded the ruddy waters in their tens and hundreds of thousands at full speed. Amphibious heavy armor and support vehicles surged across, each strike force led by a monstrous Hellhammer super-heavy siege tank.

They fired as they moved, the raging machine spirits’ aim guided by hallowed targeters and logis-engines as they suppressed and slew any survivors lying in wait at the obscured fortress’ broken walls. Two strike forces came from the northwest, flanking around towards the southwest shore of the isle. Two more struck from the north across the waters before covering the whole north shore of the isle. A fifth flanked from the northeast before roaring up the southeast shore of the isle to assault the southern bridgehead. And the sixth, central strike force rolled across the bridge, the Minerva Invcita leading the charge. Her towering bulk pierced above the shrouding clouds of smoke and she presented the only visible target to the Archenemy’s artillery across the river. Shells fell at her and the bridge itself as if to destroy both, but the Minerva Invicta’s point-defence lasers lashed out, detonating such threats in a halo of light and smoke about her onrushing mass. Enemy aircraft lined up to bombing or strafing runs before falling shattered from sky as Imperial anti-air missiles and flak guns fired through the smoke, their machine spirits fed targeting data from the Minerva Invicta. Long-range lascannons lanced at her from all around as did any straggling ordnance that penetrated her active defences, yet they only glanced off her layered void shields to an effect like light rain.

She was the lure for all the enemy around and she performed her role perfectly.

Out of the darkness roared the combined might of Krieg and Minerva. Tanks plowed up the broken shoreline in waves of bloody armor, guns blazing at the few survivors still on their feet as the Krieg infantrymen advanced behind the armored columns. Grenadiers charged the gaping holes in the once-strong walls, hurling grenades and satchel charges into foxholes, trenches and bunkers. Engineers broke off from the strike forces nearest the bridges, now free to disarm or destroy any leftover mines and traps and begin laying down their own. Then did the central strike force advance across the bridge now itself freed of the heretics’ demolition charges and last hope of preventing the fortress’ seizure.

To their credit, some still fought. Heretics died on their feet, on their knees, crawling and squalling in the muck as loyalists mowed them down in hails of heavy bolter and las fire or set them alight as Hellhounds and flame-troops announced their presence. Others dissolved to puddles of stinking offal as Bane Wolves and engineers went to work and still more turned to scrap and vapor as Macharius heavy tanks, Devil Dogs, and anti-tank teams permanently removed any hope of repairing the heretics’ shell-shorn vehicles and heavy weapons. Then the few survivors underground found out that 86th Death Korps dug as well as any of its grim brethren and that no place was safe from Krieg sappers and infantry.

But most, most ran. They tried to retreat towards the south bridge away to the safety of friendly forces. Then then came the roar of more engines as the flanking strike forces swept up from perpendicular to pen them in on all sides. But the Imperial artillery had never ceased its odious song, only shifted its fires to a new location. And that location was the southmost bridgehead and surrounding shoreline to box in survivors and box out reinforcements. So there too the fleeing heretics died, realizing they had no real hope of escape this day as they were caught between the anvil of artillery and the hammer of heavy armor as the infantry at last secured the isle and south bridge.

Away. Fast and far away. The traitors once defending the south bridgehead and shoreline routed in their hundreds, then their thousands. But still the Minervans rolled on and rolled over them without pity, without remorse, without mercy. For only the Emperor can give such a gift, though they were Her instrument in this most humble of tasks.

And when it was done hours later, when the loyalists reached their respective limits of advance a short distance beyond the south bridge and shoreline and began digging in and going hull-down as friendly artillery moved into the fortress, they let loose from their own vox-casters across the battlefield their victorious warcry:

“IMPERATOR INVICTA!”

[Segmentia]

Metaxes, The Spire

The home of Adeptus Mechanicus rule on the forge world of Metaxes was simply called The Spire by everyone on the planet, a vast structure that dwarfed even the gigantic factorums, forges, and hab-blocks. Bristling with weapons systems on platforms and within turrets, wide gaping hangers where strike craft were constantly launching from and landing in. The Spire represented the might of Metaxes and the Adeptus Mechanicus, as well as serving as the home to the Fabricator General, and the command centers of the local garrisoned forces.

Fabricator Locum Malika Cerra walked beside her long time mentor as he spoke with PDF and Guard commanders, and a few members of the Imperial navy system fleet. The infestation of the Nurgle Cult was spreading, if slowly, and being met with savage retaliation where ever its disease ridden filth made itself known. Just the other day Malika had lead several of her Maniples in the purging of a hab-block, the entire population of tens of thousands having to be purged for fear that the taint of Nurgle had spread further then the handful of actual cultists in the block.

“Unfortunately the crusade has seems to be set on sending its vanguard forces to Korinthia. I have stressed our situation to them, and the importance of Metaxes, which far outweighs any other system in the sector, but their plan is set. We will be on our own for the foreseeable future, but our situation is not so dire as to fret. I want plans formulated and submitted for attacks against the largest concentrations of the Heretics in three days. You are dismissed.” Fabricator Rivalor said, his usually patient tone hinted with frustration. The assembled commanders saluted and departed, already speaking among themselves as they walked away. Without needing to signal, Rivalor turned and began walking, and Malika followed.

“Korinthia.” Rivalor scoffed in high gothic. It was not an unfounded view that Metaxes was the most vital world in the entire sector, and of course the Adeptus Mechanicus thought that the crusades frist priority should have been to come and help secure the vast forge world. “But I suppose they must start somewhere, eh Malika?” Rivalor allowed himself a mechanical chuckle even as he shook his head.

“If they are expecting us to make them a primary supply concern, they will be disappointed.” Malika chimed in. Metaxes had twelve other priority supply concerns over the crusade that would be hoping to liberate the sector, with the top priority being the defense of Metaxes itself ever since the foul Nurgle cult set foot on the world.

“I am sure the Lord Solar knows better. There are other campaigns that we are committed to, and together their strategic value to the Imperium outweighs the retaking of this sector. However...” Rivalor stopped before the door of the lift that would take him to his personal workshop. “Logically if the sector is not retaken, or at the very least the gathered enemies are not set against another force, we will eventually become the sole focus, and even we cannot over come those statistics. For this reason I am sending you to join this vanguard force. You will bring our concerns to the vanguard commanders, and perhaps they can at the very least ease alleviate some of our burden. Your First War Cohort of Macroclade Primus will accompany you.” Rivalor announced.

Malika took a few silent moments to consider this, running numbers and scenarios through her mind. “Releasing the entire War Cohort from Metaxes is unwise.” She finally said. Rivalor gave a small nod. “Yet the need to pressure the Crusade and secure our interests with the vanguard force is a vital task. Korinthia does have considerable mineral deposits that we were never able to fully take advantage of. With the war and the great houses no doubt shattered, we could seize a greater number of them for our own use.” She continued, seeing the logic, even if Rivalor didn't intend for her post to be one of politicking it was an inevitable variable to take into consideration.

“There are advantages to gained, certainly, but we must first and foremost ensure our current interests are taken into account before we create any more interests to pursue. Now go, Malika, take your War Cohort and the Wrath of Metaxes with it's escort fleet. Join with the Crusade vanguard fleet before it begins its movement in sector. Rivalor said as the doors to the lift opened, the wise old Fabricator General entering in, the gates re-securing and the lift taking Rivalor to his personal workshop. Without delay Malika sent a burst of binary orders to the First War Cohort. Replies confirmed that her orders had been received and were being carried out. By the end of the day the entire War Cohort had been ferried up to the Retribution-class Battleship, Wrath of Metaxes, and it along with a small escort fleet of three Adeptus Mechanicus light cruisers and six Sword Frigates would make for warp travel to the vanguard fleets jumping off point.

Wrath of Metaxes

The fleet had arrived just in time to join with the vanguard fleet. As the fleet entered into the Korinthia system, Malika watched from the bridge of Wrath of Metaxes as it progressed seamlessly in system, the orbital platforms being no obstacle as they had been disabled long before the arrival of the vanguard. Moving into position with the main fleet the Wrath of Metaxes prepared itself for war, Battle Maniple Alpha preparing for the battle to come, though before the entire Maniple was to deploy Malika was going to travel to the surface to speak with the Imperial Guard commander on the ground.

A flight of Thunderhawks descended through the atmosphere, taking the safest possible route to the starport. With perfect precision the craft of the flight touched down at the same moment, ramps descending. The Guardsmen in the area, wounded, moving to the front, or milling about, would be privy to the sight of fifty Thallax cybernetic shock troopers descending the ramps in perfect unison, forming a protective cordon for the Fabricator Locum. Malika took a moment to look around the large, battered starport and she couldn't suppress a moment of disgust at the in-efficiency of the Guard deployment, but they were not her concern. Escorted by her heavy shock troopers, Malika made her way towards what vox communications had said were the headquarters of General Kastia Valerkov, the commander on the ground. The company was not stopped or challenged, Malika would have been impressed at the courage of anyone who would have thought to do so, at least until they reached the headquarters. The lead Thallax, designated MFW-T-MCP-1WC-BMA, looked down at the HQ guards and spoke in its modulated, mechanical voice.

“Fabricator Locum Malika Cerra of Metaxes, for General Valerkov.”

[Britanania]

0630 245.439.M41: Hive Achaia


The Cetaceus-Class Transport moved through the dense and polluted air with all the grace and majesty of a whale's bloated carcass washing up onshore. Vulgar, yes, but the Guard wasn't interested in class as far as logistics were concerned. The job of the Imperial Navy was to get soldiers from space to the ground in the most efficient way possible. Beauty was irrelevant.

Within moments of the ship nearing the starport, it's front opened and dozens of smaller dropships, carrying combined twenty-thousand soldiers, landed on their own designated drop sites. The soldiers of the First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment began their work setting up for the attack that would soon happen. Among the first soldiers to leave his dropship, Battalion Commander Henri d'Orleans directed the landing with his staff. He was a man in his mid-50s, a veteran and aristocrat typical of Arras. With his headquarters being set up, d'Orleans looked over the river towards the fort that would soon be the sight of their battle.

---

0640

Landing in a separate dropship with elements of his staff was Marshal Reginald Congar d'Arras himself. There was little practical reason for the septuagenarian commander to have actually come on this crusade, let alone be embedded with the III Regiment, but when asked d'Arras simply stated that it seemed like good sport. In reality, the Marshal thought this might be his last chance to truly serve the Emperor, and he wanted to make the most of it.

D'Arras, his uniform immaculate, stepped off of the landing pad and was greeted by d'Orleand with a crisp salute.

"The men are preparing, Marshal," the younger man told his commander. "Our liaison with the Minervan 501st have also informed us that their Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis is serving as the command centre for Operation X Ray." D'Arras nodded and turned towards the dropship. From it, the Marshal's horse, a black charger, was being led out by one of the soldiers along with the rest of his staff's mounts. D'Arras mounted the horse and with his staff in tow made their way towards the Minervan position.

[Ralnis]

1st Cascan Corsairs
Operations Sun Strike

The lumbering devourer was trying to match the speed of the Akkadian one with fifteen hundred Corsairs packed in like sardines in a flying can. A mixture of beastmen, mutant and human formed the vanguard for the Operation to take the levels of the spire. Blue Eyes was in standing in front with his second, a cunning bray who looked young and innocent compared to the common Guardsmen. The Emperor only knows how much a mistake that was for looks as this bray was perhaps the most cunning of the entire beastmen. The bray's name was Kaz Nohorn, but Kaz served fine. Was a good scout and a better sharpshooter.

He was shorter than Blue Eyes by half a head and looked up to the Boss as a child would. Blue Eyes did adopted the mutant as a Whiteshield and made sure that him and other brays didn't get killed because of the mutant hierarchy. Being the Boss also meant he had to stare down minotaurs twice to nearly three times his size in order to make them know whose the boss. It wasn't just beastmen but also other guardsmen with colored hair and the ganger look in their eye. They all knew that they served the Imperium, something impossibly larger than them but the politics of regiment always where there.

To the veterans, the newly christened Corsairs were greenhorns, but disciplined. The regiment that was made of gangers, abhumans, and mutants alike had a pension to modify and loot whatever they could fine but they were good against the forces of Chaos and rebels alike. This is properly the reason why the General decided to make them join up with the 109th. It would be a test of mettle for them and bloodied them up enough for other missions in the Crusade.

It didn't matter for the Corsairs wanted to strike against Chaos wherever it reared its head. Despite being rowdy and amateurs at being guardsmen, they were proficient in fighting back against the tide of the Powers. Being under sieged by the various warbands that roamed their subsector for centuries can steel ones resolve in the Emperor and they wanted to enact vengeance in the name of their world and their Emperor.

"Alright lads listen up!" Blue Eyes shouted out as they all stood still in attention as best they could," this is our first mission off of our homeworld. We are going to be the first wave to support the spearhead of the Akkadian Devils in taking out the AA and capturing the higher spires. We are hitting the fourth highest level of the Hive. I don't think I have to mention that under no other circumstances that not one fucking casing or power pack will be touched unless its your own!"

The rest of regiment had started to murmur among themselves but the voice of their boss shut them up," ever thing touched by a traitor is touched by chaos! Anyone saw even touching or having a thought Emperor forbid will be shot by the nearest battle lad or lass. Even still those who go against the orders of their officer or commissar to charge into the fray! We are the vanguard and I expect us to fight like the Emperor demands of us. Do I make myself clear?"

A united "yes boss" was heard before the dropship started its angled ascension.

A mixture of fearful cries and maddening laughter was heard as they all hanged on for dear life. The dropship was rocketing up to the sky with only a trail of burning promethean to make it's path. As it met its zenith, it descended and equalized its path to meet the LZ where the sounds of battle could be heard. The 109th had started to make their push against the traitor guardsmen and their defensive pillboxes. Many of those number had turned their guns and started to fire on the newcomer dropship.

The blasts licked the armor of the lumbering giant before las cannons and other las guns from the open ports returned fire in higher number, blowing away those who stood in the way of Imperial retribution. The path was cleared and the bay doors opened for the Corsairs to rush out of the ship and shouted their battle cry.

"For Emperor and Casca, strike vengeance against the dogs of chaos!"

Minotaurs and large mutants charged through the defenses as krak missiles roared into the defenses. The beastmen were always the first to charge into the enemies firing line and the first to die. The beastmen were shock troops to the word and use the Corsair pattern lasgun that had a higher rate of fire than a standard lasgun. This help for the beastmen as their number didn't lose as many as they would have and their bestial frenzy mixed with the variety of others in the regiment won the day.

This was a boon for the Cascan, they had a variety of mutants and abhumans to make up for their inexperience. They pushed hard with their power and many fell behind Blue Eyes as he took many a traitor down by himself as they connected with the 109th. The 1st Cascan helped their charge into the traitors, using chainswords, axes, and sharpened appendages to tear into the traitors. Many died from the enemy bayonets but that didn't matter as commissars and officers pressed the attack till there were none left.

They awaited an explosion to hit the doors from the Akkadians. The sight of such golden doors being ripped asunder were met with a roar from the 1st Cascan as the prepared for the assault.

"Alright lads! You know what to do! Get in there and earn your marks against these traitors! For Casca and the Emperor! Strike vengeance upon those who sing the chorus of the Ruinous Powers!"

[Morrdh]

319th Morridane Rovers
B Squadron
No.6 Troop
0625

The great bulk of the Devourer-class dropship shook and groaned as it was battered by the planet's atmosphere as it thundered its way down towards the planet's surface and Hive Achaia in particular. The dropship was of hundreds, if not thousands, raining down from orbit carrying the mass formations of His Divine Majesty's Imperial Guard. This one was one of the few carrying the 319th Morridane Rovers, the whole unit had been split across various dropships to reduce the chance of the entire regiment being wiped out before it even reached the ground with the entirety of each Squadron on a single dropship. There still was a good chance of a large chunk of the Rovers being destroyed whilst still in the air, though this way at least some of the Rovers was expected to reach the ground more or less intact.

B Squadron, under the command of Captain Leese, was riding on this particular dropship with an infantry unit on the upper deck as part of the main wave going in to land at the spaceport. Though Captain Leese's HQ element would advance with the APC borne infantry of the Squadron's Support Troop, the armoured cars of the four Scout Troops would be moving ahead to recce routes to the bridges that crossed the river through Fort Trav. No.6 Troop under Lieutenant O'Dea would be first off the dropship, the four Pegasus AFVs of the troop advancing as a pair of two-car sections with O'Dea leading one and Sergeant Ready leading the other. Since enemy forces were known to be present, they would operate in what was known as Condition Red; moving at reduced speed and prepared for immediate action.

A klaxton sounded throughout the dropship as amber runes lit up, this was their warning that planetfall was imminent. With a throaty roar, the engines of the various vehicles started up so that they were ready to drive off soon as the dropship had opened its doors and lowered its ramps. Speed was essential, especially as the Rovers were meant to be the eyes and ears of the Imperial forces assaulting the Hive.

---

0730

The landing had gone...well with the usual expected efficiency of the Imperial Guard.

Dropships that had landed first had already de-gorged their living cargo before the Morridanes had arrived, other dropships had landed in the wrong place which ended up causing confusion and delay as the dropships following behind had to abort their approach and go around in search of another landing spot. This meant that B Squadron was already behind schedule when it finally reached terra firma and offloaded. Worse, other units had already started to advance into the Hive and were clogging the exits from the spaceport. Captain Leese voxed his intent, and frustrations, to Command before dispatching his HQ unit and the Support Troop to take over and establish some form of traffic control so that the advance from the spaceport didn't assemble some disorganised rabble.

An hour later than planned, O'Dea's No.6 Troop finally left the confines of the spaceport and moved into the hive overtaking over Imperial units. Being so far behind, O'Dea was forced to throw caution to the wind and advance at speed towards the Fort Trav bridges. This meant they were forced to completely skip scouting out whole areas and leave them for other Imperial units to clear. Granted, being a Hive meant hundreds of different levels that needed to be checked and cleared which would be an absolute nightmare going forward. The Morridanes were, thankfully, confined to the Hive's roadways for the most even is those were also on multiple levels ranging throughout the entire Hive.

So the armoured cars advanced towards the bridge, autocannon equipped turrets tracking back and forth as the gunners waited with fingers on the firing triggers. The commander of each armoured car, typically the gunner on the autocannon, reported enemy sightings and their location over the vox net. "All callsigns, all callsigns. This is Wolfhound..." would be frequently heard over the vox-net as the day wore on.

[Acerbez]

The Northern Galleries
0756 Local Time

The sudden bull rush of imperial guard regiments descending from orbit to relieve the Loyalist PDF came as a surprise of despair to the militia that had holed up in the Northern Galleries. The furious assault of the Vostroyan and Valhalla regiments concerted itself upon the rabble of militia, tired and battle worn by now, in righteous unbridled hostility. Battle group Zephyr achieved momentous ground as they swept the northern galleries. Turning into a fleeing retreat, the militia too slow to get the memo to get out simply attempted to shack into the hobbles and housing of the district and fight for their lives within.

Unknowingly forcing the loyalist assault to resort to door to door operations, but one to their advantage. The militia low on ammo, devastated morale, and spotty organization could only hope to die buying time for the others retreating. Something they were very reluctant to do but simply had no choice. Accounts of militia attempting to surrender in fear, only to be shot on the spot would circulate in the Imperial ranks and endeavors of battlegroup Zephyr.

For those that had the initiative and headstart to make a difference, many militia found themselves meeting the river banks with nowhere to run. Others were lucky to make it up the ramparts before the Vostroyan or Valhalla and sprinted to the militia side of the perimeter.

At the river, dawning upon them that they either fight and die or jump and swim, the numbers were infrequent in the fleeing militia's decision. Some did indeed turn back and fight with their last magazines and flickering drive for death dealing. However a great many dove into the polluted waters of the river Eraklion, weak of heart and stronger will to live... Despite the demanded sacrifice of the harsh currents. The loyalists that pressed to the banks, would see across the brownish green water of Eraklion, the hive proper. Bustling like ants in a hill, enemies positioning and fortifying the road nearest to the banks. Tauntingly almost..

On the west wall's ramparts, the counter assault, Fleeing militia would disappear and be swallowed by the flock of thousands of militia pushing back and giving no more ground to battle group Zephyr. A Mass of disorganised troopers barely protected, waving autoguns in the air and discharging them at the imperial enemy. This massive tidal wave was a guise for cultists, under the directive of the KIG, to entrench themselves as best they could with looted heavy weapons and batteries and hold the contrasting tower of that which was claimed by the Vostroyan.

To support this, 10 squadrons of sentinel were deployed to the walls, and they ascended to support the cultists with more firepower. The ground command of the Rebel forces doing its utmost to secure and stabalize the situation and cease further loss of territory. The orders of the wall were to secure and fortify, and push no further than the contrasting tower for the current time.

---

Starport
0727 Local Time

Militia being routed from the starport sent surges of panic as the charge of loyalists became visible to those positioned outside the starport perimeter. Having no means of enforcing morale, such as commissar present, the militia began to quickly retreat towards the bridge in saturated numbers, hoping to stall the loyalist advance at North bridge position.

Rag tag groups ran into one another and collided to form larger groups with the starport at their backs. The men holding ground further back looked confused and perturbed at their fleeing compatriots.

"Imperial guard! Imperial guard have landed!" a militia shrieked.

Perking their heads like ground hogs, many took a moment to peer over the heads of their comrade and saw through the early morning light, large dots appearing and gliding down through the atmosphere.

"Hold fast you dogs! The starport was almost ours!" the would be militia commander barked but to no avail, the men kept running back. Attempting to mimick the actions of a commissar, the man began to shoot into his own militia. Like hungry dogs introduced to a slab of meat, his own men assailed him and returned the gesture of death.

There was almost no uniformity to the retreat, and the chaos would be palpable to those well versed in doctrine and order. As the cave in effect reached its pinnacle, just at the north head of the northern bridge from Fort Travium. The Militia began to slow in confusion as the sound of battle began to pick up again.

Almost 13,000 remained on the north, remnants of the once massive and now broken starport assault. Their boots hitting the ferrocrete of the bridge while heavy weapon fire discharges from the small stretch of land just at the bridges end came both at them and appeared to be aimed at the Fort itself.

Lasel slowed his pace behind his rebel compatriots. Utterly and entirely confused as the adrenalin coursed through his body. He was wheezing from the exertion of putting his body through such a strenuous retreat. The grip around his autogun had stiffened from thin blood as his palms were pale white and layered with sweat.

Pushing through his compatriots and hearing them discharge their guns in the direction of the Fort, the thought of a betrayal entered his mind. The closer he got to the front, the more his compatriots stiffened and made it harder to see.

Among the shouting and yelling, nothing was audible to any of the militia. 'Are we killing eachother now?' Lasel thought? Yelling aloud among the crowds noise, "What's going on!? Why are we stopping!" but nobody was paying attention, nobody could hear and his attempt to discern the situation was drowned out by panic and gunfire.

A brief moment passed and a man not 5 steps from him was suddenly tackled by a large thick beam of red light. A lascannon superheated his body and rent him into billions of pieces from small atoms that dissipated into the air all the way to chunks of viscera and fully intact limbs.

As sudden as the lascannon fire hit the crowd of militia, it turnt their cowardice and teetering morale into the ultimate thrust of survival instinct. Confronted with hail of gunfire just before the only exit of survival and countless and fresh imperial enemies invigorated to slaughter them, the retreating militia broke into a full human wave of terrified beasts, stampeding directly towards the Cadian 34th that miss calculated their landing in front of Fort Travium.

Pinned between a rock and a hard place, whatever composition of the 34th Cadian that dropped here would soon be overwhelmed. The gun nests and placements of the Fort would be digging into their unfortified position and the wave of militia would be surging toward them without any regard for their own life not that they were faced with death at every turn.

Lasel bolted forward with the rest of the men, screaming and crying out in anguish of what seemed to be their last stand. The rows of men in front of him falling forward into deaths embrace like children jumping to their mother. Falling harder than love, 'I... I have no choice... I'm really going to die!' Lasel thought as the wave began to thin to place him at the tip of the spear.

People in front of him, to his right and left sides, plugged with lasfire and blown off the bridge from explosions into the murky polluted waters of the river Eraklion. Blood splatter, cries of last breath, howls of pain were over abundant.

Raising his gun, he would see the flak colored Cadian green, and instantly it all made sense. They weren't betrayed, they were trying to cut them off? That's where his rationale lead him... 'I can't... Die!' his ego told himself, as he hoisted his autogun up and began firing into the Cadian position, his feet and legs now without feeling. He felt like he was floating like a cloud and anything below his torso simply was fluff and air.

'Survive'. His mind blank save for this word and thought alone.

Fortune, unfortunately, doesn't always favor the brave.

---

Fort Travium
0822 Local time

Lieutenant Azamov, stationed in charge of and garrisoned at Fort Travium as the KIG command over the assaulting militia. The situation was proving extremely volatile and perilous as the day continued to develope. The abrupt and sudden landing of the Cadian 34th just the gates of the Fort came as a surprise and garnered immediate attention.

Lighting up like a firefly, the Fort began to blast every nest and heavy weapon team into the Cadian, believing that somehow the entire militia assault had been vanquished, the imperial navy ships obviously ferrying in fresh reinforcements. His mind raced with anxiety but his orders were to hold and likely meant his retreat would only bring him the reward of Disenko's firing Squads.

These hypothesis ran him in circles until reports of the remnants of the assault had fled and were attempting to regain entry to Fort Travium. Transforming his entire outlook, certain death was guarenteed for the foolhardy that landed on his doorstep! The clear indication of their load out being pristine and higher quality than their own, the anti tank packaging of the Cadian brought a gleeming shimmer to his eyes, knowing that their doom was upon them.

"Ready the battalions for a sweeping charge! We're going to slaughter these fools and take their guns from their cold dead hands, Huahuahha!!" bellowing with enthusiasm.

Azamov had left the battered ramparts and paced the ground level among his men as they gathered, preparing to break out and steal upon the sandwiched Cadian force. Grinning with assured sincerity, Azamov continued to hype his men further, Militia he actually despised but nevertheless was place in charge of.

"This planet belongs to us, we are it's inheritors, we plow its earth and enjoy its fruits! These loyalist fools know nothing of our determination, our desire for freedom, our commitment to the gods! Their lackluster faith relies on the decaying corpse that rests upon the golde-"

"Sir, th-th-the Bridge force is being routed!" a staffer shouted interrupting Azamov's tirade.

"WHAT!?" Clenching his jaw, he peeked through a portion of the broken wall, looking past the wretchid Cadian, and witnessed a shocking turn of events.

The militia force attempting to retreat was being routed at their rear from a force of fast moving armored vehicles, not even infantry. A cohort of 12 pegasus appeared from nowhere and were shelling immense volumes of turreted autocannon and Hull mounted heavy bolter, making swift work of the militia and worse, giving the Cadian a saving grace of an escape opportunity!

"GRRRAHH!! OPEN THE WARP BLASTED GATES! DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE!! KILL EACH AND EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM DAMN IT!"

The chorus of automatic fire deployed by the Morridane Rovers took everybody by surprise. The militia fighting for their lives were blanketed and torn by the hail of fire. Fractured bone, torn muscle, blood and sinew. Bodies dropping like flies as the concentrated militia group had no means of cover or protection to save them from the onslaught brought by the wolfhounds.

The Cadian however, would hear and see the front gates of Fort Travium burst open with the continued fire from the gun nest entrenchments never stopping their suppression fire. 10,000 militia flooding forward to end them if they didn't act quickly.

Gating back in the Fort, towards the artillery platoon command HQ. Azamov shrillly shouted in angst,
"I want every fucking heavy quad launcher barrelling down on those sons of bitches NOW!"

But what about our own men, sir? " the artillery officer questioned in confusion.

"What the fuck do you mean our own men!? On those god damn AFV's! The other side of the bridge you imbecile! DO IT!"

The quad launchers were shifted and altered in their trajectory in an estimation of coordinates that would rain upon the Morridanes. It would take a few minutes before it happened... But they would ring true.

Darting for the Vox comm, Azamov yanked the receiver from the corporals hands and began spitting into it.

"This is Lieutenant Azamov, Fort Trav Command. Requesting artillery bombardment on the starport and north bridge positions immediately!" he lurched upright as his nostrils fumed. Anxiously awaiting commands reply.

Hive Achaia Command Room, Capital Spire
0836 Local time

Commander Disenko, watched with angst at the surveillance feeds that sprawled across the room. His eyes lazy and sluggish with malice as the hue of blue light reflected off his skin and illuminated his uniform. Withthout turning his head, he uttered aloud to a black carapace armor individual in full regalia.

"There seems to be some alarming changes to the loyalist developments... Perhaps it'd be best for you to secure an extraction route for those of higher priority... in the event it is needed."

"But sir, the Viz-"

"I know he won't like it... Insist to him that it is a contingency plan and nothing more. Now go, you have your orders." Disenko ended shrewdly.

With a nod, the armored soldier paced away. As soon as he left the room, the vox echoed to life.

"Commander, we have a request for rolling barrage on the starport and north Travium bridge. Awaiting your orders."

Disenko leaned over the console and peered at one of the feeds. A far but clear visual of the battle ensuing, while another feed depicted the seemingly never ending traffic of drop ships and gun runs against the upper hive. Disenko's eyes slowly and steadily glancing and taking the information in. He pressed firmly on the response key,

"Are the drilling and other preparations complete?" he inquired passively.

"Yes m'lord."

"So be it... It seems we're left with little choice. Initiate evacuation protocol 287, inform all presiding brigades of the order. Ensure that all follow my directive to the letter, we need as much time as we can get." Disenko relayed in cold recourse.

Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes. Rehearsing one last time in his mind. Exhaling with patience and calm, Disenko flicked the switches across a portion of the console and pressed down and held the pressure against the key.

The speakers and comms of every hive level spanning the entire city that were left intact and in place since before the civil war ensued. Echoing so loudly that even those at the star port could faintly hear it but easily listen in on Vox Comm.

The hissing static of the vox feed came to life, buzzing with electronic dissonance, as Disenko Spoke,

"Citizens of Achaia, my fellow believers, brothers and sisters of change...

It is with great remorse yet sure certainty that I speak to you, here and now. Our home, our great city Achaia, and the center of our planet is under attack by treacherous and hippocritial unbelievers. Those that clamor to dead faith and disbelief of what is truly divine.

With heavy heart, I know there are those among us... In fact it would be foolish to believe there wasn't any among us... That also maintain this dead form of worship. Those that yearn to serve at the bossom of a dying corpse. Well this very moment.. Is your Opportunity. Our Vizier's final gift of true freedom that you wish to shun. The choice to leave.

The city, is the stage of ruin... A testament of what those of us are willing to inflict upon those that desire to steal our minds and thoughts, our very lives. I speak to you, imperials. You are the thief, the vagabond, who insists only his way is righteous. Let that be known...

1st Korinthia Interior Guard, initiate evacuation order 287. Let not our path be an obstacle to those that wish to be free of us. Initiate Evacuation order 287. We will live to see another day."

---

Evacuation order 287


Of the billions of residents that remained in the hive, these words... Disenko's address... Was the city taken? What of the Vizier?? What was going on... An evacuation protocol meant that everyone was to disperse and make out of the city. Those that believed in the cause knew and planned already to make for Hive Choros or Hive Zynthe.

But there was others... That still stayed faithful to the emperor and silently prayed for his deliverance to free them of this horror show that swept across their once holy believing planet. Hundreds of thousands, if not a million that saw this as their opportunity and permission to be free of the Vizier's clutches. A way back into the light!

As the preparations for those loyal to the rebels readied their exodus to the other hives, those still yearning the emperor did too.

"Request for artillery is denied, Initiate evacuation order 287" Azamov's reply sounded. Wide eyed with a slight twitch of disbelief, Azamov kicked over the table. Having just deployed his battalions to charge, he would need to reel them back in and retreat. A general retreat. All artillery was to be pulled back immediately and as fast as possible. The cemented entrenchments were to be salted with thermite. At the very least, the assaulting battalions of Fort Travium would have the opportunity to quickly loot the fallen Cadian weapons and equipment. Those that were left behind atleast.

Across the banks from the Vostroyan, the teeming life of the hive seemed to die and evaporate. The power to the surrounding and visible hive districts from the LZ being cut off and turned down, Allowing blackness to engulf the interior. The contrasting tower still held by cultists and Militia but devoid of activity it would seem.

Forward positions at the south side of the river seemed to be pulling back and confirmation that the evacuation protocol was seemingly genuine. The Imperial navy, also capable of spotting specs and dots of civilian exodus at the south of the hive. While the commercial district and Eastern hab hive's lights flickered as the last vestiges of electricity ran their course and died out. In the early hours of the day, the hive was seemingly killed and shut down.

Fort Travium would experience a full desertion by the obvious occupying force and visibly be leaving it behind with post haste. But in stark contrast to this, within the hours of 0945, flocks of civilians began to appear at the outskirts of the non loyalist occupied territory, making their way to only means of crossing... The south bridge of Fort Travium.

Women, children, men, teenagers... Mothers clasping bundles and their babies, little boys helping their parents with bags and cases of luggage, men with sacks of their belongings. Tired and distraught from the last 2 years of war. Every civilian that wanted no part in this rebellion among others, desperately hoped their salvation was on the other side of the bridge.

At first, only a few groups braved the torn landscape towards the other side. But soon hundreds took after their example, then thousands began to funnel onto the bridge and begin their 10km treck to the loyalist side. This influx would be all the movement the loyalists would see. Servo and ocular surveillance showing refugee of war, covered in sut and Ash of conflict. Torn clothing and sometimes rags, a truly sad and heart wrenching spectacle.

Their lives were in the hands of the loyalists.

---

Central spire landing pad
0733 local time

The militia in opposition to the landing of the 109th Harakoni and 1st Corsairs would funnel into the massive corridor that was the landing pads wing. A steady flow of suppression and stark resistance to their kick door operation. They flooded in by the 100's constantly, forcing any ground gained by the specialists to be slow and hard earned if at all.

Only the strutted edges of the corridor would provide cover for both militia and loyalists. Consigning a majority to remain outside and away from the large blown gate. Granted the undisciplined methods of the militia, many would fall prey to Corsair and Harakoni fire in the center of the hall as they repeatedly attempted to charge down its long hall. Littering the floor with the countless bodies.

Grenades were exchanged like hot potato, but the militia didn't seem to give in and held fast for hours. Some even in disbelief to see mutants fighting so passionately against them. The militia, those that were fighting for their gift to be accepted and not treated as a pox or cancer... The mutants of the 1st Corsair.

The advantage of these mutants would be obvious against the still human militia. Nesting them in close quarters only to be shot by the reinforcing militia steadily pouring in.

Then as both sides fought over the "middle" of the said corridor, the Vox intercom system blasted Disenko's message. Bringing a silence to the long ensuing firefight between the war dogs of the 109th, the 1st,and the militia at 0836 hours.

Blaring loudly, the militia listened intently, only firing back upon the Harakoni if they fired or attempted to advance yet again, only to maintain the stand still further. After its conclusion, the power in the central spire, save for few selected portions, were cut from power and lost of light.

Heralding yet another full retreat, the Militia in the corridor made a break from it. Taking shots in the back from the loyalists. Playing lottery with their lives hoping that the darkness would cover them and save them from death. The end of the corridor split into 2 directions, like a fork in the road. The militia fled and funneled into both...

Into the darkness.

[Bolslania]

Colonel Korster, 34th Cadian AT,

"Sergeant, what is the situation." Korster asked of the sergeant that had just walked into his tent


"We've been pushed back by the heretic tanks and infantry sir." The sergeant said in a gruff voice.

Korster scowled, he knew his men weren't meant for close combat, but come on, these were PDF soldiers here.

"How far out are they?" Korster asked. A flurry of lasgun fire interrupted the sergeant.

" 'Bout 300 yards, sir." The sergeant replied, turning back from the tent flap. His men were currently fighting off a unit of the heretics. They had been doing a good job, Clustorn thought, but they weren't combat infantry. He hadn't had time to process what had happened yet, luckily.

"Right, sergeant, we are holding this line until backup arrives, now, fight with your men." Korster finished, reaching for the comm link.

"Yes, sir!" Clustorn yelled, and sprinted out of the tent.

Korster activated the comm link. Things were gonna get loud.

"This is Boxer 8, we need immediate artillery at sector five-five, over!" He set the hand comm down, and went outside.

"Alright men, artillery's inbound, when it's done, be ready to charge in the name of the Emperor!" He yelled, firing at the heretics.

Sgt. Jorhan.

"All units, pull back to sector 5-4, over." The message crackled over the radio. Jorhan had been holding a crest for the past 10 minutes from waves of infantry.

"Driver, pull back to 5 4, now!" He yelled at pvt. Ureter, his driver.

The tank spun around, Cadian infantrymen hopping onto it. They raced for the sector, rolling over ditches, craters, and the wounded. When they got there, the tank spun around again, but before it could fully rotate, a Las cannon round slamming into the engine, the back of the tank exploded, sending metal, infantrymen, and fire into the air.

"Bail, bail!" Jorhan yelled, getting out of the flaming tank. He hit the ground hard, and took off sprinting for the ditch where some men were taking cover, he rolled into it, his gunner and loader hot on his tail. he looked over the edge, and saw is driver stumbling around, he looked much thinner than normal. That's when Jorhan realized that a chunk of the man had been blown off by a blast. Jorhan pulled out his laspistol, ready to fight.

Cpl. Cupphon Cane

The concussion of the tank-hunter exploding sent Cane to the ground, blasts hissing by his head. He got back up, Las gun firmly held, and began firing, waiting for the army to rain heavenly fire upon the heretics. A lasgun blast went right through his helmet, barely missing his head. He fell to the ground, Pvt. Ricle ran over to him.

"Shit, Cupphon! You good!?" He yelled, his hand feeling for a pulse. Cane brushed off the hand,
"Yeah, yeah I'm good!" Suddenly, the Sergeant and Picle heaved Cane to his feet, Clustorn yelling at the group.

"Awright, AFVs have given us a way out, artillerys inbound, we're leaving!" He turned, and the squad, hot on his trail, sprinted, with the remnants of the Cadian 34th, towards the routed heretics on the bridge, and the AFVs that had relieved them.

Sergeant Clustorn

As they reached the AFVs, the guardsman killing the remaining heretics, he flagged down an AFV. When the commander popped out, he asked.

"Thanks for the rescue. Now, we need to get the fuck off this bridge before that fortress takes us apart!" As he finished, an artillery round from the fortress slammed into the bridge, sending guardsmen flying into the river. Clustorn ducked, and yelled at his men.

"Get your asses of this bridge!"

Colonel Korster

"Alright! Everybody, off the bridge!" He pointed at the AFV commander "Get off the bridge, we need you guys alive!" Turning to a lascannon crew that had set up, he yelled

"Get that thing packed and get moving!" With that, he turned and took off with the remainder of the 34th.

Gen. Lazius Snortius,

The shuttle dropped the general off at the Minerva Invicta at 0800. He walked into the command room, saluting the officers of a higher rank than himself. Then, he began.

"There was some confusion over the LZ, the transports landed in the wrong area, and my men are pinned between the defenders of the bridge and the fortress." He started "According to new reports, AFVs from a friendly unit, currently unidentified, have routed the enemy force holding the bridge, and my men are currently getting to the other side of the river to reorganize."

[Union Princes]

0830 Local time

After a couple hours of directing traffic, Colonel 86 had to then direct his men and artillery into combat positions. Armageddon Basilisks drove in the direction of the fort before stopping to raise their guns. Infantry cannons were pushed towards the frontlines to provide fire support for the infantry while mortars were spread out in order to mitigate the damage of enemy counter-battery. Shells were loaded, crates were stacked, and Colonel 86 sent his Commissar Yarvin to organize the first wave of attack that would breach the fortress alongside the 501st Minerva and III Arrageois Regiment. Grenadier and Engineer squads are picked for this task.
“Commissar Yarvin, status report.” Colonel 86 spoke into the vox while being in the middle of his officer corp setting up an HQ.

“Progression has been going smoothly, Colonel.” Yarvin replied through his vox. “Unfortunately, I do believe elements of the Cadian Tank Hunter regiment has landed directly at the fortress itself. I advise we attempt to speed up our deployment in order to relieve them. I’ll peak with the other commissars of the situation.”

After signing off the vox, Colonel 86 went to join the rest of the company commanders.

[Bolslania]

<Post self-deleted by Bolslania>

[Britanania]

0730 245.439.M41: Hive Achaia
First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment


The Morridane call was soon heard by the Arrageois signal officers. The team immediately replied.

"Roger, Wolfhound, this is Black Eagle 1, do you copy? Over." As the signal officer replied, another officer went and informed the Battalion Commander that they received a call from the Morridane Rovers and asked for any further instructions. Henri d'Orleans rubbed his chin and told them to send a message to the Regiment HQ asking for further orders.

0731 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta


Over in the Minervan command centre, the Regiment HQ received the vox from Battalion HQ. As before, the signal officer informed the Marshal of the situation and asked for further instructions. Marshal d'Arras, who was looking over a map of the city, and in particular the forth and island in the centre of the river replied without looking up.

"They're by the fort, you say? Can we get a read on the enemy presence?"

0732 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment

After several minutes of playing tag on the vox-net, the First Battalion signal officer called back over to Wolfhound.

"Wolfhound, Wolfhound, this is Black Eagle 1. What can you tell us about the enemy? Over."

---

0830 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta

The Krieg commissar made contact with his Arrageois counterpart. With a crisp salute, he addressed Yarvin.

"Commissar Yarvin, well met," he said in his accented Low Gothic. "Our soldiers are preparing for the assault as we speak, but we can't move until you set your guns up and provide us with some support. What's the ETA on their deployment?"

[Segmentia]

Telrade 4th Heavy Infantry Regiment
0800

The Angantyr-class drop-ships descended through the sky in a seemingly lazy manner, moving slowly as to line up with the safest decent pattern that could be attained through enemy anti-air. Each dropship in the flight, five in total, carried a single Veteran Brigade of the Telrade 4th, a thousand Guardswomen per brigade, along with their supplies. Rather then being on the top deck, the heavily armored and armed Guardswomen were on the lower deck, lacking any vehicles on this flight to carry down, ready to charge out onto the LZ so the ships could return to orbit and continue to ferry down the rest of the regiment. In the lead drop-ship, carrying the First Brigade, all thousand of the Guardswomen were lowered onto one knee, Major General Sela Arrous Nasiritan and the other officers standing before them with a Ministorum Priest as he lead them in a final pre-battle prayer to the God-Emperor. He was a small, older and emaciated man, especially when next to the amazonian women of Telrade, but his voice carried clearly over the thousand soldiers before him, even some of the non-vital naval crew having come to join in the prayer. He ended his sermon as was tradition, with the bold proclamation of “The Emperor Protects!” and in unison a thousand voice spoke those words back to him, and to the God-Emperor, as also in unison everyone present made the sign of the aquila. The elderly priest turned and nodded to Sela before slowly making his way off to a stairway up to the top level, helped along by naval personnel.

Sela looked out upon her Guardswomen, fully armored and helmets donned, the quasi-Space Marine helmets being a long standing make, honoring the Adeptus Astartes who had saved Telrade in millennia past. She felt no need to make a speech, and she knew her warrior women weren't expecting one, actions would speak louder on days like today. Speeches were for victory, heroic deeds, or to honor the dead. This was just another war, the opening stages to reclaim this sector for Emperor and Imperium, she would save her speeches for more vital days, if she survived to see them. Instead she simply said in a booming, modulated voice “Stand ready!” And the brigade rose from their kneeling position, moving off to form into their respective platoons and began double checking their gear. Sela wasn't expecting a fight right out the gate, but she would be moving the Veterans swiftly into battle. One of her Veteran brigades, the 5th Brigade, was slated to break off from the main group and move to assist a small operation of storming the governors residence upon the central spire. Sela was not a fan of breaking a fifth of her initial landing strength off but she understood the possible importance of taking the governors residence, though she would not hesitate to order their retreat if the situation became untenable, but 5th brigade was in the capable hands of her cousin Major Nazas Hisso Triniris, a young but capable commander.

The inter-vox of the lander chimed and the captain made the announcement that final landing procedures were under way, and within the next five minutes the four landers touched down in a near perfect diamond formation. The front cone of the ship parted and without delay Sela lead her veterans down the front ramp, as the commanders of the other three brigades lead theirs out as well. Within five minutes of landing the drop-ships were lifting off again, empty of Guard and their supplies, which was carried and secured in the north-east corner of the starport. Sela had of course been briefed on the initial plans, and had been monitoring how the morning had been progressing, and while she could bring her four brigades in to support the push across the bridges by guarded by the fortress she had no intention of doing so. Instead her eyes were on the hive walls, specifically the section spanning the Eraklion river to the east of the starport. As far as she knew it was only being held by loyalist PDF, and there was no push planned for it unless the bridge push failed. It was there that she would bring her Guardswomen to bear.

Her direct subordinates already knew the orders, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Veterans Brigades would move up on to the wall, set up a forward regimental position in the wall tower held on the west side, and then push across the take the east side, with 4th Brigade in reserve for now. As soon as their supplies had been secured Sela lead the 1st Brigade to the mighty wall, finding a yawning access way, enough room for two tanks to drive side by side all the way up to the top of the wall. Moving at a jog, the thousand carapace clad Guardswomen sounded like a stampede as they moved out, Sela at the head of the formation. They passed by small units of PDF who quickly backed themselves up against the walls. The interior passages and rooms of the wall seemed to Sela to be a low risk area where PDF command had been sending out the more strung-out units for at least a little rest before they were thrust back onto the front. Sela reached the top of the wall and entered the western tower, having her NCOs go and try to memorize the layout in the event that the tower they were to attack was of the same layout. Moving up to the higher levels she found the PDF commander, a lieutenant, as her Guardswomen moved and relieved the PDF at the firing ports, the heavy weapons platoons setting up their weapons and their NCOs getting them ranged.

“Report, lieutenant.” Sela said, looking down at the baffled PDF officer. He blinked away his shock and snapped a crisp salute, which Sela returned.

“Ma'am! Nothing to really report, ma'am. We're here more or less to watch out for and guard against any traitor assaults across the wall. Every now and then command would have us try to attack the east tower, but we never really got close to capturing it. Now we just occasionally trade shots with the east tower.” The officer reported as Sela walked to one of the narrow vision ports and looked out, having to bend slightly to see out. The wall segment between the two towers had some cover, but not much. They would take losses but she was more then certain they could get to the other tower and storm it, from what the lieutenant had said this area didn't seem like a high priority point for both sides, so she doubted the enemy had their best troops over there.

“We are going to take that tower, lieutenant.” Sela said, stepping back from the vision slit and turning to face the PDF trooper, her own officers now standing around him as well, dwarfing him. She could see the fire of resolve in his eyes as he nodded. “I'll assemble my men, ma'am!” He said, all to eager to join in the assault. She wasn't going to rob the man and his troopers the chance, but she also knew they weren't quite equipped for the frontal assault.

“How many men do you have that can fight?” She asked. “Forty of us, ma'am!” The officer replied at once. Sela nodded, they could come in with the second wave.

“What is your name?” She asked. “Grissom, ma'am!”

“Lieutenant Grissom, you and your platoon will join us in the second wave. Captain Farsozi, I want you to make sure the heavy weapons are set up and ready to provide us fire, I want as many of the enemy weapon ports silenced as we can. Have the las-cannons ready for precision fire on any that are particularly difficult. The flamers and meltas will come with us in the assault.

We're going to move fast, 1st company followed by second, and the other brigades after that. Once in range we'll use the meltas on the door and get to the bloody business. We secure the tower from the wall up, and then we will move downwards. No prisoners unless they seem of rank or importance. Grissom, you and your men will come in with Captain Farsozi and her second company. Follow her orders at all times. Understood?” Sela laid out the general plan and gazed over the assembled officers, getting an affirmative from each. With a nod to her officers she made her way back down to the wall-level. It took another five minutes or so for the heavy weapons to set up and prepare as best they could to suppress the enemies own heavy weapons. Crouching down she lead the first squads of her brigade out the door and into the sandbag fortifications the PDF had abandoned just outside. She waited another handful of moments, allowing the next section of squads to stack up by the door to charge out. She pulled a smoke grenade from her belt and two NCOs around her did the same.

“Go.” She ordered over the vox, and above and behind her the heavy weapons roared to life, laying down a withering assault of heavy-bolter, auto-cannon, and las-cannon fire. She counted to ten and then stood up and hurled the smoke grenade towards the opposite tower, the NCOs throwing their own at lesser intervals. As the smoke began to built up Sela grabbed her power-sword, the heirloom item of her family The Fang of Telrade, powered it on and lifted it.

“FOR THE EMPEROR!” She called and the squads surged forward, returning her call with their own. Enemy fire ripped through the smoke, it wasn't exactly difficult to gauge where an enemy would be coming from on such a narrow front, but a decent amount of enemy fire seemed to be firing at the west tower, probably out of routine more then anything, and as Sela lead the charge across the wall more fire started hitting them, the traitor officers and NCOs no doubt having corrected their gunners mistake. She heard the thud of a few dead troopers falling to the ground, the screams of a few others, but she also heard the screams of enemies, her brigades heavy weapons tearing apart the sandbag defenses the enemy had in front of their tower. Thanks to the thermal vision of her and her troopers helmets they could see enemies through the smoke as they closed. Coming up Sela saw the heat of several bodies and a heated barrel of a weapon, some figures frantically trying to reload the weapon.

In several quick strides Sela came upon them, using her forward momentum to leap over the normally thigh-high wall of sandbags, and came down upon the heavy weapon crew. She damn well landed on one of the crew, their cry of pain ringing out as the weight of her armor broke bones as she landed. The smoke was starting to dissipate and the enemy crew could see her through the fog-like smoke now, but it did them little good. She kicked out and broke the knee of the closest traitor, sending him writing to the ground even as she brought her power-sword down upon another, striking and cutting clean through from their neck and down to their hip, turning towards a new target before the body had come apart. Her bolt-pistol found the next two targets and blew fist size holes into them. The fifth, and final enemy standing, had found his weapon, an auto-gun that he was bringing up to fire. There was the roar of a bolt-gun and the mans head vanished. Sela nodded to Captain Zulars as she and the first few squads moved passed Sela and towards the tower. Remembering the traitor she hand landed on, Sela looked down to see her writing, stretching out to try and grab a weapon just out of her reach. Behind her helmet Sela sneered at raised her left boot, slamming it down and driving it though the traitors skull.

More fighting was taking place ahead, and Sela moved forward. Her Guardswomen had cleared out any traitors outside the tower and as she came through the last of the dissipating smoke she saw a few of her squads already stacking up. Grenades were lobbed into any weapon ports they could, and the weapon ports on the first level were already belching smoke as the flamers had cleared them out. A woman with a melta called for her comrades to get clear before she plied the weapon against the secured door, the anti-armor weapon having little difficulty chewing through the door, and once it was melted away enough grenades were thrown in as enemy auto-gun fire barked out. Stacking up next to the door and waiting for the grenades to go off, Sela readied herself to charge in, prepping another smoke grenade.

[Union Princes]

0730 245.439.M41: Hive Achaia

[b]0830 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta

The Krieg commissar made contact with his Arrageois counterpart. With a crisp salute, he addressed Yarvin.

"Commissar Yarvin, well met," he said in his accented Low Gothic. "Our soldiers are preparing for the assault as we speak, but we can't move until you set your guns up and provide us with some support. What's the ETA on their deployment?"

"Currently, our initial troops are ready for the assault." Yarvin replied. "However, the predicament of the Cadians brings into question of whether to start early our offensive to relieve them. Our guns chosen to lay smoke are ready to fire but 3rd Division has yet to finish unload and be organized into fighting formation. It is up our colonels to come to a consensus to proceed early or not."

[Morrdh]

0732 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment

After several minutes of playing tag on the vox-net, the First Battalion signal officer called back over to Wolfhound.

"Wolfhound, Wolfhound, this is Black Eagle 1. What can you tell us about the enemy? Over."

"Black Eagle One, this is Wolfhound Two-One." Crackled Lieutenant O'Dea's voice over the vox. "Enemy sighted on bridge north of Fort Trav, heading south."

"Enemy greater than my callsign strength, estimate enemy forces to be at least division sized in strength...I say again, division sized in strength." Reported O'Dea over the sound of heavy gunfire. "Am engaging at this time, no enemy armour or heavy weapons sighted...I say again, no enemy armour or heavy weapons sighted."

"Unable to make contact with the Cadians, unit's curr-...wait one." O'Dea said, pausing for a moment. "Strike last sentence, we have a visual on the Cadians crossing the bridge. Enemy forces are now confirmed to be retreating south. Over."

O'Dea got back to firing the AFV's autocannon as he waited for a response from Black Eagle, no doubt they would take a moment to digest what he had just told them. It was an almost amazing stroke of luck, despite being behind schedule, that B Squadron had caught the enemy unawares. A withering fusillade of autocannon and heavy bolter had seemingly put them to flight, O'Dea could only guess that the enemy's resolve had been shakened by the Imperial landings and then completely shattered by the sudden appearance of the Morridane AFVs. The Morridanes had been as equally stunned as the enemy, though the Rovers were a mark quicker on their triggers and unleashed an punishing barrage of fire.

By now he'd gotten word that most of the rest of the regiment was planetside and beginning to move out from the spaceport, in particular A and C Squadrons were being directed to O'Dea's current location. The idea was for the Morridanes to hold the northern side of the bridge, mainly to await an infantry unit to move and secure the bridge to enable the Morridanes then to continue their advance.

"Alright! Everybody, off the bridge!" He pointed at the AFV commander "Get off the bridge, we need you guys alive!" Yelled the Cadian colonel as he came over.

"We know what we're doing, thank ye very much." Replied O'Dea. "If ye care ta look ye'll notice we aren't actually parked on the bridge."

"So stop telling me how ta do me job and I won't tell ye how ta do yers, deal?"

[Parcia]

810
Spire top
109th Harakoni

The 1st company came to a near screeching halt at the prepared firing line and went for cover. Colonel Apone, putting his faith in the Emperor and his well crafted Armor, stood up from his piece of cover and fired a bolt of plasma down the hall. He watched a traitor sergeant fall to the ground as the lights down the hall switched off. "Lights out, goggles on!" At this command the 1st company took cover and placed their issued low light goggles on to the mounts on their helmets, then flip them downwards in to the on position.

"Eagle bearers, up front!" With this command the 5th Company's 8 veteran Snipers pushed forward, their spotter skulls quietly humming as they hovered above their masters. "Standard line, low light, call anything you see out." With this Each sniper embedded them selves with a squad and pushed forward towards the fork in the path.

Ordering his troops to stop, he issued an order over the Vox net, "right, Corsairs, sit tight here and secure the fork. I'll order a set of heavy bolter teams to fortify you but I need you to sit here. Tegrade, any of you with prey-sight to push forward with us, we need to take this slowly."

[Bolslania]

0732 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment

After several minutes of playing tag on the vox-net, the First Battalion signal officer called back over to Wolfhound.

"Wolfhound, Wolfhound, this is Black Eagle 1. What can you tell us about the enemy? Over."

"Black Eagle One, this is Wolfhound Two-One." Crackled Lieutenant O'Dea's voice over the vox. "Enemy sighted on bridge north of Fort Trav, heading south."

"Enemy greater than my callsign strength, estimate enemy forces to be at least division sized in strength...I say again, division sized in strength." Reported O'Dea over the sound of heavy gunfire. "Am engaging at this time, no enemy armour or heavy weapons sighted...I say again, no enemy armour or heavy weapons sighted."

"Unable to make contact with the Cadians, unit's current status is unknown. Though enemy forces are now confirmed to be retreating south. Over."

O'Dea got back to firing the AFV's autocannon as he waited for a response from Black Eagle, no doubt they would take a moment to digest what he had just told them. It was an almost amazing stroke of luck, despite being behind schedule, that B Squadron had caught the enemy unawares. A withering fusillade of autocannon and heavy bolter had seemingly put them to flight, O'Dea could only guess that the enemy's resolve had been shakened by the Imperial landings and then completely shattered by the sudden appearance of the Morridane AFVs. The Morridanes had been as equally stunned as the enemy, though the Rovers were a mark quicker on their triggers and unleashed an punishing barrage of fire.

By now he'd gotten word that most of the rest of the regiment was planetside and beginning to move out from the spaceport, in particular A and C Squadrons were being directed to O'Dea's current location. The idea was for the Morridanes to hold the northern side of the bridge, mainly to await an infantry unit to move and secure the bridge to enable the Morridanes then to continue their advance. The second, lesser reason was to provide a rallying point for any surviving Cadians who's current state was unknown after they'd landed disastrously off-target.

Guardsman Lither Kuster
"Wolfhound,wolfhound, come in, this is Boxer 1, we are readying to come over and support you. Over." Kuster clicked "Receive" on the vox-box. The colonel had finnaly gotten the regiment back into shape, and they were readying to take the bridge.

Corporal Cupphon Cane

He had been given another lascannon and spotter, guardsman Occer Brost. He was crouched down in a hole with his squad, waiting for the colonel's order to move back over the bridge. First, they were trying to establish contact with the AFVs to coordinate with them. The bridge was taking a pounding from enemy artillery, and they were gonna have to move fast before it broke apart.

Colonel Korster

"Command, this is Boxer 1, we are ready to retake the bridge, appears that the fortress is being evacuated, over." He said into the vox-box. He was moving again before he had fully set the mouthpiece down, moving on to get the regiment reorganized. Most were waiting for the order to move-out, but some were looking around confusedly.

"Come on you shits! Grab your lasguns and get ready!" He yelled at them, they rushed to comply. He looked around at his men, nodded, and gave the order for them to get ready to move out.

[Britanania]

0735 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Near the Bridge

"Wolfhound Two-One, Wolfhound Two-One," the vox-caster replied, "This is Black Eagle One. Hold your position and help those Cadians get out of there. We'll be moving in soon to relieve you. Over."

Sure enough, as promised, the First Battalion reached the bridge in time to see the 34th Cadian AT start making their retreat across the river as the Morridanes stood by. With the enemy combatants seemingly in retreat, it would almost be time to start their own crossing to take the river fort.

---

0832 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta


The Arrageois Commissar nodded slightly as Yarvin explained the situation. The missed landing by the Cadians certainly put them in a difficult situation, but the lastest voxes from the front indicated they were making their retreat across the northern bridge and should be reforming near the starport.

"The First Battalion is ready to make their assault across the bridge," he replied. "Any support you give will be appreciated."

0835 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Near the Bridge

After nearly an hour of waiting as the Cadians retreated and reformed, the First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Battalion Commander Henri d'Orleans checked his watch one last time. The enemy guns had gone eerily silent, and according to the Morridane reports enemy combatants had retreated into the safety of the fort.

D'Orleans put his silver pocket watch away and blew into his whistle. The Battalion Commander hoped into his command Chimera along with the other members of his staff and rolled forward across the bridge, the 1st Company following behind.

I just hope we get that support, he wondered as his APV rolled along towards the enemy fort. Within a few minutes of the assault, an enemy broadcast was heard blasting from the main hives. An evacuation order, it seemed, seemingly from the overwhelming loyalist regiments? D'Orleans wasn't sure what to make of it, of course, what was most important was taking the fort and securing it at any cost.

[Union Princes]

---

0832 Leviathan-class Capitol Imperialis Minerva Invicta


The Arrageois Commissar nodded slightly as Yarvin explained the situation. The missed landing by the Cadians certainly put them in a difficult situation, but the lastest voxes from the front indicated they were making their retreat across the northern bridge and should be reforming near the starport.

"The First Battalion is ready to make their assault across the bridge," he replied. "Any support you give will be appreciated."

86th "breakthrough" Siege division
0832

Krieg Commissar Yarvin radioed Colonel 86 of the news.

"Permission to launch the assault early?" the Commissar requested.

"Proceed." Colonel 86 replied.

---

1st and 2nd company of the 1st Division advanced forward onto the bridge led by Yarvin himself. Mostly comprised of Grenadiers and Engineers, they all had bayonets attached at the ready in case there were still traitors in the fortress. Behind them, the artillery opened up in a barrage of HE and Smoke shells raining on the fort. By orders of the Colonel, they will not stop until the Krieg contingent has linked up with the Cadians at the doorstep of the objective.

Infantry cannons and mortars stationed nearby also laid smoke to cover the advance of the Krieg spear tip. The Basilisks were hammering down on the walls of the fort causing ruptures and cracks in the cement.

"Keep advancing!" Commissar Yarvin shouted before ordering 3rd and 4th Company to follow suit through his vox.

[Morrdh]

Imperator Dominus - Emperor-Class Battleship
Korinthia High Orbit

The vast Operations Chamber was filled with the chorus of voices, both human and servitor, and the crackle and whine of vox-sets. Naval and Aeronautica personnel moved from display to display, constantly updating the data shown as more and more came in. Operators sat at cogitator stations and directed the movements of air units over the Hive City far below, their own voices adding to the background din of the chamber. Senior officers stood in viewing balconies that overlooked the chamber and presided over the proceedings.

In the center of the chamber was a hololthic sphere displaying the Hive City along with markers representing both air and ground based units, Imperial or otherwise. Round this display were gaggles of officers, though one officer stood alone. Stood sternly with her hands clasped behind her back as she glazed at the hololith, this officer wore the uniform of a senior Aeronautica commander. Air Marshal. The senior most Imperial air officer present, though an oddity in the Navy's chain of command that didn't easily fit. This didn't matter much to the Valhallan born Air Marshal Alizabeth Kaldwin, her focus was sorely on winning the air war over Korinthia and not naval politics.

Right now it looked as though the Imperium had achieved local air superiority over the Hive City and, more importantly, ground forces had largely secured the spaceport. It meant that aircraft were now being tasked to the close air support role in order to aid Imperial ground forces, additionally it also meant that assets and personnel could start being ferried down to establish an air base on the planet's surface. At first fighter and tactical wings would be stationed there, having them time and fuel that would've otherwise been lost transferring to and from the ships in orbit. The longer ranged bomber wings would, for the time being, continue to operate from orbit until Imperial forces had secured the Hive City and started pushing out to claim the rest of the planet.

Kaldwin herself was due to head down to the surface to better command the air war from the ground, a shuttle was standing by to take her to the waiting Capitol Imperialis where some of the other Imperial commanders had gathered.

---

0735 First Battalion, III Arrageois Regiment. Near the Bridge

"Wolfhound Two-One, Wolfhound Two-One," the vox-caster replied, "This is Black Eagle One. Hold your position and help those Cadians get out of there. We'll be moving in soon to relieve you. Over."

"Wolfhound Two-One, wilco." Replied O'Dea. "Will continue ta observe enemy troop movements. Wolfhound Two-One out."

"O'Dea ta squadron." O'Dea called out over the vox after switching to the channel used by B Squadron. "Have operational command 'til the skipper is free. All vehicles to form up by the north bridge and provide cover for Imperial forces until relieved."

"Observation o' enemy forces ta continue, get on the vox and report anything ye see. O'Dea out."

[Acerbez]

The Western Tower
0910

The chorus of unified volleys cackling forth from the Vostroyan advance would be ruined by the unsynchronized and rugged retort of human waving autoguns. The counter assaulting militia screw driving along the ramparts towards the now held Vostroyan tower, colliding with the firing lines set by the loyalists. Dropping like flies and stampeding over one another, thousands upon thousands were consigned to buy the cultists time to position and establish themselves in the shooting galleries of the tower that stretched toward the skies.

Bringing with them heavy stubbers and looted autocannon, the cultists of the blue flame relished in the opportunity to bring harm and desolation to their foes. 6 squadron Fast moving sentinel (54) reinforced the rampart force and focused their efforts on removing heavy weapon entrenchment or concentrations of the Vostroyan with autocannon and multi laser. Standing tall above the militia, some lasted no longer than mere moments before they imploded from a heavy weapon or became riddled with heftier bullets. Only providing the slightest thrust from the militia that were ignored in its stead.

"Heha! Bring them doooom! Hubris is our armor and hate our weapon! Hahaha! Ruinous perdition awaits them in the waaaarp!!" Zirgos screamed assuredly. A cult leader, his flak plate and pauldrons resting on his bare skin revealing self stylized mutilation and cuts in his skin as homage to his dark Lords.

Waisted robes fastened to his torso, the color of a deep purple in viable contrast to the leaf green flak armor he wore. His eyes blood shot and tainted with dust and glaze.

Strutting past the militia with a gait of defiant arrogance, he made no effort to mask his authority as he shoved militia and cultist aside toward a small vox caster fastened to the towers Wall.

"Lieutenant...! Don't make yourself to be a fool, hehe hahaha... The Western tower is.. Is.. Under attack! They intend to take it from us!" Zirgos freely spoke with a semblance of glee.

"Evacuation protocol 287 has already commenced, Zirgos. How long can you hold?" the Vox replied.

"The fools! Reinforce the tower, immediately!"

"You hold no authority over me Curr, you watch your tongue!"

The reply from lieutenant Redza of the KIG was shadowed by explosions of grenade and the now firing heavy weapons of the gallery.

"Your folley will be duly noted and expressed to Director Colonel Disenko. Spoken and whispered among them men as you cowered in the safety of your post!" the cultist hissed his retort. The silence of the Vox annoyed Zirgos, now stepping back. Racing down a flight of stairs he approached a few platoon of cultists and beckoned them.

Snatching the ringleader of one by the collar and pulling him close enough to see the green and yellow of his sharpened teeth. "You take every grenade launcher you have, and you saturate this rampart. I want to see loyalists falling from the walls like rain!"

Zirgos' absence from the Vox despite its relative brief Ness meant he would miss the reply from Redza. But a rear group placed near the wall would incite a roaring shout of approval as others went to peer down the ledges and see.

In the edges of the hydroponic District, plumes of smoke and trace glimpses of uniform movement could be seen from the ramparts above.

Redza unwilling to shoulder the burden of responsibility alone, ordered 2 companies of KIG deployed to aid the Eastern tower. 2000 more men accompanied by 5 squadron of Chimera intent on spearing a renewed counter assault.

It was a matter of time until they arrived. Zirgos grinned cheekily, satisfied to have his ego stoked and enflamed.

---

Fort Travium
0830 recap

The push out and attemptive sweeping advance from Azamov's men proved to be a failure at the inclusion of the Morridane rover's relieving the Cadian 34th. The unprotected and straight firing line of the bridge meant total decimation for the retreating militia from both the morridanes hungry pintle mounted weapons and the shock of a pincer concluded with the Cadian falling back and killing their way out.

Azamov's men simply ushered back and took the lives of the stragglers, but stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of enemy reinforcement. In split seconds, Militia stepped on top of fallen enemies and spotted a plethora of their freshly loaded and pristine weaponry. Taking no time to take them for themselves, their commander barking for a general retreat was the only thing that ceased their looting and incentivised their departure.

Survival and safety more often than not overpowers one's designs to attain wealth and power... Especially in the face of death itself.

Whistling from the skies, followed by thunderous echoes from a distant location widened the eyes of many moments before smoke and fire evaporated them and tore them asunder. The Krieg bombardment had begun and only the speed of sound's delay indicated that Fort Travium would be ground to dust if they didn't leave immediately, taking their lives too along with its battered walls.

Those designed to salt and thermite equipment did so in haste and wreck less abandon that the job was mediocre at best. Telling themselves that the loyalist artillery would decimate it on their behalf, many ran from their duty half way. Many more blown apart before they made it to the forts exit.

Of the 10,000 men, approximately 7000 would make it out alive. Bobbing and weaving without cohesion hoping that the ground they placed their feet on would not be pulled up and made into a crater.

---

The Eastern Tower, Efforts to Repel the Telrade
0815

Shazenan had been idling on the grounds of the commercial district among the spread camps of militia and cultist. Encampments made of rubble and debris of the hives felled architecture. The sound of war across the banks did little to keep the force as alert as it should've been however the influx of imperial craft from space certainly insisted they were at the very least ready to move.

A champion of the Korinthia Cult, and unproclaimed aspirant of the thousand eyes, Shazenan was Zirgos' opposite in both association and temperament. The Blue flame held many extremely edgy subscribers, a plethora from the prisons of Korinthia while the thousand eyes were the main arm of Saran's depredations. The force behind his ascent to power and beneficiary of his favor.

Spurned to attention by the random ringing fire of the tower on the west end with seemingly new excesses of firepower. The men below only watched for 15 seconds before realising that the PDF were no longer exchanging fire for the sake of it and were perhaps intent on sallying forth to take more territory.

"On your feet!" he roared.

Shazenan split for his personal weapons, a gifted plasma pistol stolen from the armory of one of the many aristocrats and his chain sword. Both symbols of his authority and prowess among his peers. Shazenan was unlike the other specimen of the cult and Militia. Not only was he cunning and intelligent, but he was gifted with favorable genetics and physical disposition. Standing at 6 foot 3 and weighing 240lbs, the man was a monster among his own men.

0818

As Sela and her contingent pressed through the arches of the tower's lobby, militia relentlessly surged forward. The concentration and direct threat meant that fewer found themselves heading upwards to relieve and replace the heavy weapon crews and blindly focused on Sela and her intrusion.

Slowly withering away the lives of the support stationed in the top galleries of the tower. Shazenan ripped control of the confused militia and vigilant cultist below and immediately pointed his weapon to the tower.

"By the Gods, we will not lose that tower! By the warp, why are you still standing!? Any men standing will feed the jagged teeth of my chain, MOVE!"

His men understanding, and moved by the sense of urgency began to sprint for the ramps. Cultist inaccurately attempted to rain grenades down with their launcher upon the ramparts but with minimal success. Glancing over but a few times, Shazenan's rage began to grow at the idiotic attempts but knew the futility of running back and forth, instead he prioritised makine commication update.

"Command, the Eastern commercial district is pressured and under fire at the wall towers. They are supported by massed hevay weapons and are assaulting our position. I repeat, massed heavy weapons postured to steal ground." Shazenan gritted his teeth, impatient and ready to fall in with the counter assault force.

"Where is your CO, soldier?" the vox replied in monotone. Unbelievable, the Shazenan held no rank among the PDF and their arrogance was costing them time.

"By the authority of the Eye and Saran himself, I Shazenan have assumed control." his hands balled into a fist itching to send it into the man on the other end.

"Affirmative, you are being relieved of command, Cultist. Major Weiss is en route to assume command. Hold the position and await his arrival, over and out." the voice stated casually.

"Filth..." he sneered into the receiver. Tossing the Vox aside Shazenan gaited to his platoon of cultists.

"For every eye they take, we take 2... They are but flies in the Web of scheme, let us find our niche!" grabbing his chosen, they too moved up the ramps. Heavy power packs of hell guns fastened to their backs and cabled.

In the lobby of the tower, men used the walls for cover and its columns, lobbing grenades of their own doing their utmost to keep the Telrade at bay. Constantly feeding them fresh lives via charging militia with bayonets and cultists with blades. The Amazonian hacking away both limb and live, the rebels hoping to stack the odds in their favor.

In the distance, but 15 minutes away, an armored column plumed forward, its formation out of sight and blocked by the jagged spirals of the commercial hive. Chimera and centaur headed by a squadron of Leman russ. Major Weiss was en route, peering fearless from the hatch of the Russ.