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Hi All,

Following posts will detail the fluff of my new IG army, 415th Haruukian Regiment of Foot, as a story of a regiment, as told from the viewpoint of various guardsmen of the 415th Haruukian and other Imperial Guard formations supporting them in my army roster(s).

Story will expand to cover AAR's of our local six round league, which will commence on 10th Feb, with approximately two weeks per round. So the full extent of the story will take some time to develop. And as always with fan fiction, lenght of the story will depend on time available, responses of the audience and my general interest in 40K.

Enjoy or hate, and feel free to comment. Although you might take into account that english is not my native language. This story is, however, written directly in english and not traslated. Some of the league background fluff will of course be translated.

Text is my own creation, except the league fluff for which I give full credit to league admin. This story will also appear first on the finnish miniature site, sotatorvi.net, at Joensuu gaming section.

Hf,

Timmon

The Beginning

"And on this blessed day, you have followed your hallowed ancestors to the service of Emperor and Imperium of Man. Stand firm against the alien, weed out the heretic and abolish the demon, always following the orders of your lawful superiors. Do this, and you will bring more glory to your familes, to the Republic of Haruuk, and to the eternal Master of the mankind. Fail in this, and you will be chastised unto death, your kin will be despised, and your world will bow in shame."

"Thank you Mr. Speaker. Attention! Salute the Republic!"

"At ease. Take a good look around. It is unlikely in extreme that you should ever see the beatiful forests, lush hills and glimmering lakes of Haruuk ever again. Though, you cannot see them here at the smoky spaceport either, but try to picture it.

For your life will now change. You will head for greater wonders, perhaps for higher glories, and most likely for an early death. Dont worry, Administratum Munitorium will certaily pay a good pension for your next of kin... or at least for someone the clerk writing down the sorry details of your demise likes. Your life is now life of a guardsman! I salute you, Guardsmen!"

"Colonel Fuemenne, proceed to embark Haruukian 415th for transport!"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

Heavyweight lifters were promtly filled with nervous Haruukian recruits right out of the basic training. In a display of mechanicus-like effectiveness, space port ground crews of the Haruukian capital, St. Kumanne, together with shuttle and lifter crews of 297th Transport Fleet, managed to "dust off" all forty six newly raised Haruukian regiments, with all (or most) of their shiny just-allocated equipment, in less than seven hours.

The 297th promptly sailed the empyrean, towards the designated rendezvous with elements of Sector Fleet. 297th, and therefore the Haruukian regiments among other Imperial Guard forces it was transporting, was then parcelled out as task forces, along with escorting Imperial Fleet elements.

In due time, all of the task forces formed were sorted out, designated and then directed by Administratum Munitorium to move out as reinfocements, conquest armies and relief forces destined to join conflicts which Imperium of Man was prosecuting all over the Sector.

Only one regiment of Haruukians got lost during this mustering of forces, the 417th, along with four other regiments. Their transports, with a solitary Sword-class destroyer escort, left the marshalling point, and after sailing for five months of ship-time arrived at the outpost of Adeptus Astra Telepathica, in planetless system of Getulavian Promis, on the edge of the Imperial Space. There, the troopers of five platoons of 1024th Vostroyan First-Born Regiment had eagerly awaited for sixteen years their relief from the original six month security posting.

Haruukian 415th, with two of its sister regiments and eight other relatively full-strenght Imperial regiments, sailed for the troublesome system of Ashkelon Prime. As one of the hottest hotspots of the sector, the Ashkelon Incident was again heating up with taint of Chaos and stench of Xenos. Still, the Ordos of Inqvisiotion would not sanction Exterminatus. Therefore, Brotherhoods of the Adeptus Astartes had been duly notified, but three vast continents of the world once classified in Exactus Majoris taxation class required lots of able bodies to occupy, cleanse and pacify. The Guard would march in, and the able bodies in fresh regiments would become veterans, or become just bodies.

---

On the way

Engine noise was a constant thrumming at back of your head. Sergeant Rathi Ulvinne had got used to it during the three weeks Haruukian 415th had been on the way, heading for a marshalling of sector forces (at least that was what the mess rumour mill said, mostly).

Well... occasionally, while almost sleeping in his portable cot in the huge echoing hold of the transport, Ulvinne was sure he could hear the warp... thingies, scratching at the hull. Even though he had laughed like the rest of the Haruukians, when deck hands of their transport had told them tall tales of ships lost among the empyrean, he was not quite so sure about the warp trip being “good an’ natural part of guard life” as he would have liked. And back in 4th Co, one of the lads had gone looney, or rather raving mad. The comissar had put that one down, he had. No meds or stims for the poor soul. But then, Ulvinne heard the rookie was from Enghenna district, high up in the mountains, and way up in north, and he reckoned most of the Enghenna highlanders were half mad already, what with all the snow and mostly dark for the five months of winter.

“Heijo, Ulvinne! You sleepin at the table, what?” Roihenne, hulking veteran sergeant from the war hardened cadre squad attached to 1st Co landed his considerable bulk on the mess bench almost toppling Ulvinne from his perch at end of it. “Nah. Bit sleepy though. Them lads just snores so loud I cant sleep too well, as this tub of steel makes it echo like a platoon of Chimeras idling.”

“You and that young mousey... eh I mean dashing leftenant of yours, you should really run your lads through some nice an’ warm live ammo trials, in that training bay the colonel had set up. After the dick up with them Astartes in the final manouvers, methinks you need that. Would help you with that snoring thing too, I betcha you can sleep after all the nose wiping, hand holding and yelling you’d need to do, ha!” Roihenne smiled while voicing his advice, but somehow Ulvinne got the impression the veteran sarge did not think any shipboard training would really help the recruits much. Or enough. Roihenne started to demolish the food pile on his plate, while Ulvinne kept pushing the last, unidentified objects of his “Grabo stake with noodles” around. Thinking back to final training excersice back on Haruuk did kill the last of his appetit...

-----

You are not parading today

The last day of final excercises of Haruukian 87th Draft started with a suprise: General Groftinne, supervisor of the Draft, announced over the camp modulators that a brotherhood of Astartes, of Chapter Memoria Sanguis, had sent a detachment to assess overall readiness of the newly raised Haruukian Regiments. As part of the assessment, last day’s parade have been cancelled and changed to a series of field combat excersices, ranging in scope from battalion combat teams to platoon size engagements. Haruukian 415th would take part in three platoon-sized excersices, first one taking place at once, in the early autumn morning mist still covering the nearby live-fire grounds.

Sergeant Ulvinne had only just got back to his breakfast, when Leftenant Chaasine run to noncom mess yelling for 1st platoon nco’s to drop all and follow him to a briefing with company CO.

Standing panting right behind the leftenant, Sergeant Ulvinne had heard most of the hurried briefing Captain Huurika gave the first platoon’s increasingly nervous commanding officer.

“Leftenant Chaasine, its best if you combine your squads and assume a blocking position at A4, while getting good fields of fire for you heavies. Comissar Wejkovich might join you to evaluate platoon performance, if my runner finds him fast enough.”
“Question Sir: do we attempt to control objectives at once?”
“No. Colonel told me these Astartes Brothers of Memoria Sanguis prefer lightning strikes, so we will attempt to lure them to strike at our initial positions, which will favor our defense, and only secure the objectives later.”
“And... yes, after you have secured your position, concentrate your LC fire against any mechanized elements. Sheer firepower of the platoon should sweep any opposiotion nicely, Astartes or not. Colonel has assigned a couple of Russes to make breakthrough after you have blunted first push of Astartes, so we will advance and capture at least three of the five objectives with armor support.”
“Yes Sir”
“I will join the rear ranks and add my command squad’s firepower where needed. And I feel that the presense of Colours will keep your men trying harder even if this is only an exercise.”
“Sir, do we have any other support available?”
“As agreed with the Brotherhood, mobile forces can outflank, and will arrive if simulated advace on the flanks is deemed as successful. You can hope for a Sentinal squadron to arrive but don’t count on it early on.”
“Yes Sir, will keep that in mind”
“Any more questions?”
“Sir, no Sir!”
“Emperor’s speed then. Lets make most of this rare opportunity to measure our mettle againts the honored brothers of Memoria Sanguis”

Next to Ulvinne, Sergeant Roihenne spat out his tobacco weed with a loud snort, with a look of sour onions on his broad face.

---

Getting a lesson

“Haapie, your fire team, that ridge, setup, now!”
“Yes sarge!”
“Move it! And check your indies, referees will kill all whose indies are not working! LC too!”

Ulvinne was directing his squad to take positions. They had had barely half an hour to fetch the training fire indicators from the Draft armory, fix and calibrate them to lasguns and hevies, and move out three kloms to the designated training area, there to deploy to repel Hostiles of honored Memoria Sanguis brotherhood.

Lt had ordered the platoon to deploy combined in extended skirmish line, at the foot of a rocky ridge line, while the heavy weapons were hauled up on the hill tops to maximize their field of fire. Although the young leftenant looked almost ready to puke from sheer nervousness, Ulvinne had to admit so far his orders had made sense. While the platoon shook itself to a long line, Roihenne’s veterans jogged past, to join the left end of the line. Their well-worn meltaguns looked like nasty business to Ulvinne, and he was glad to have veterans at his flank.

“Heijo, Ulvinne! Keep your lads in line, take your hits and let them honored bastards in power armor close. My lovely rednecks will then toast them up with tank-cookers so nicely their indies will shine red for a month!” yelled Roihenne as jogged past, to take up covered positions on the ridge. Abruptly he stopped as his voxman turned back and handed him the receiver. Ulvinne heard a grudging yessir and then Roihenne cut the link and started swearing and directing his squad forwards, so that they extended the platoon line on the open, with no cover to speak of.

Ulvinne shrugged and went on to check his squads’s LC on the rigde. From up there, he spotted a black clad character moving around on the next hilltop, heading towards the right end of the platoon line. Son of a bitch. That haughty bastard of a comissar, Wejkovich, had apparently been reached in time to make a spooky appearance, mused Ulvinne silently. I wonder if he can “terminate” someone’s indie to motivate the rest of us... and there’s the captain too.

Company CO was having his command team LC set up on the next hilltop on the right while chatting with the comissar, and Regimental Colours slowly unfurled in the light morning breeze.

“Sergeant, is A squad ready?” Startled, Ulvinne turned and saluted leftenant Chaasine, who was picking his way up from the gully between hilltops. His command squad was already sweating carrying their flamers up.
“Sir, A squad in readiness. Indies all set and ready.”
“Excellent. And I see Roihenne is also in postion. Ok lads back to gully, we will support the LB’s when they arrive”

Ulvinne smiled when he saw the command squad grunts turn and scramble back with Lt. That’s what you get when you volunteer for command team: you get specialist pay, and you get the officer running you up and down and around, never caring how heavy a hell-toy you are lugging on your back.

Lt Chaasine seemed a little lost, almost wandering around in the gully, no doubt hoping th LR’s would be here alredy. Nothing is so reassuring as a multikiloton plasteel monster with helluvabig gun on your side, though Uvinne as he headed back down to join the line. But be that as it might, the platoon grunts of alfa, bravo and charlie, with victor of Roihenne, were in nice, loose firing line. All the five supporting LC’ s of the platoon, counting Roihenne’s and company CO’s veterans, were in good positions behind the platoon line, with good fields of fire, covering most of the designated training area.

Let the honored brothers of the astartes come and...

A long, ripping, chest-pounding bass sound, with high keening overtures, ended in a very big and very flat bang. And flash. Dirt was flung up right in front of the centerpoint of the Haruukian platoon line. Smoke and dust billowed outwards from a tall object that had suddenly appeared. Plasteel and ceramite tortuted with hell-heat of re-entry crackled, a series of bangs, now almost inaudible after the initial sound shock, then huge hatches blowing down from the... thing. And something walking out...

And then, gritty, ancient, half-mechanical voice: “I serve the brotherhood. I have come to teach you” .

----

“Dick up” with Astartes

Loud gurgling sound brought Ulvinne back from his not so pleasant memories. Roihenne, having totally annihilated the food pile on his plate, was now emptying his canteen, apparently in one go. A loud burb completed the process.
“Well, Ulvinne, at least your platoon nailed that huge walker-thingy astartes, eh?”, mused Roihenne almost softly, no doubt content after eating well, or at least eating a lot. Smug bastard, thought Ulvinne. Its easier to smile when your part of the “dick up” was fully and completely someone else’s dick up.

When the unbelievably noisy and, Ulvinne had to admit, unbelievably scary Astartes war machine had landed practically on top of the combined platoon, the excersice started go rapidly downhill from the Haruukian viewpoint.

The dreadnought had cycled its frag cannon, and then actually sprayed the astonished guardsmen next to it with sticky red paint. Well it was better than real flamethrower promethium, but not much. The referees had right away declared their judgement, with indies of a full dozen of Haruukians putting on the red light of simulated death. Captain Huurika had kept his head, though, and ordered the combined platoon to bring that dreadnought down. The torrent of Lascannon shots and plasmabolts of special weapons troopers had wrecked the large walker (at least in the eyes of the referees) before it cound bring its heavy close combat weapons to bear.

In the end, that moment of coolheaded thinking had not saved Captian Huurika from a very through reaming by the Colonel. Choice pharases Ulvinne had heard outside the old man’s tend included “deployment tight as virgin from a convent” “waiting passively like an already roasted turkey” and “standing up like a spare cock at the wedding”. Red faced Huurika had then curtly picked up Leftenant Chaasine, and given him a very good yelling to. Leftenant had then positively screamed at the platoons sergeants (while the veterans, led by Roihenne, had already been at the cantine). And in time honored fashion, the sergeants had then set their squads to attend to various not so glorified menial assignments which had suddenly flooded the 1st company from the regimental headquarters.

Ulvinne also thought that digging in at the ridge had been a mistake, but not apparent at that time. The Astartes, contrary to the expectations, had not deployed from the skies (apart from the honored dreadnought brother), but instead closed in moving from cover to cover. Most of the combined squad, or what was left of it, didnt get to draw bead on the slyly approaching hostiles.

And the Russes. Both heavy weight battle tanks were supposed to move in behind the infantry screen, but in his haste to deploy, Captain Huurika had instructed Leftenant Chaasine to deploy too soon, without leaving adequate manover space for the tanks. Then, the senior noncomm leading the tank section had decided to value mobility over the grunt screen, and boldly driven on the open. And right in front of the melta touting Astartes, who had closed lightning fast with their jump packs. LR’s had got off no more than one hasty shot from their main gun each, bowling over two or three of the Astartes brothers, before being whitted down to simulated hulks by melta hits and power fists.

After that, the central Astartes squad, which had kepts its distance while suffereing next to nothing from the platoon’s fire, had closed in. Led by their spooky Librarian, a whirlwind with a warp-crackling weapon, they had engaged the platoon.

Close combat with the indies was cumbersome to say at least, but not one of the Haruukians doubted that the referees had been rather too kind than too harsh to them. Well except Comissar Wejkovich, who in any case was not a Haruukian, and had to hang on because he had the red sash.

Wejkovich had rallied the guardsmen after the initial assault, but try as they might, the platoon was soon shattered, referees putting up ambers for those barely maimed and reds for the outright kills. More than anything, Ulvinne had been convinced that if he ever had the bad fortune to face Astartes or their perverted chaos kin on the real battlefield, the last thing he wanted was to go hand-to-hand with them. Full auto and more energy clips, that would be the only way to survive.

And then, right when the Astartes had bounded up to the ridge to engage Company command squad, as a last joke the Sentinels assigned from the regiment’s recon co. had finally shown up. Well, they had tosted a couple of brothers (according to the referees), but, Throne, only by using their anti-tank hunter killer missiles!

A complete wipe out, not even one objective having even temporarily been controlled by the Haruukian 415th. As complete a loss as can be achieved. It would not be hard to guess how that engagement would be counted when Chapter Memoria Sanguis would deliver the readiness assessment report of the Haruukian draft to the Administratum Munitorium officials.

“Eh, at least we got back to lunch before it got too cold, didnt we?”, said Ulvinne, eagerly seeking a silver lining, however thin.

“Yeah. An perhaps next time that young mousey of yours remembers how far tank-cookers of my rednecks can reach. I sure as hell wont charge out of the good cover to garden lawn for nothin’ if the hostiles really mean business, orders from a Lefty or no.”

I bet Comissar Wejkovich would have something to say about that, thought Ulvinne. But hopefully only after blowing out brains of anyone giving such a stupid order in the first place.

-----

Landfall

“To summarize: Headquarters of the Lord General have indentified several different forces of hostiles. Positive identification has been made about a large Eldar force, intentions unknown. A large Dark Elder raiding force, up to no good certainly, though by the Throne I don’t see what Ashkelon has worth plundering any more. Additionally: A bespoiled cloud spiral positively reeks of chaos, according to the Primaris Psyker Conclave of the Lord General, so that continent has had text ‘here be deamons’ inscribed on quite firmly.“

“And as you know from the on-going space battle, Imperium is not the only force actively reinforcing Ashkelon. From the augurs of the strike cruiser of the Astartes Chapter Space Wolves, who are present in unprecedented numbers, it appears that a large army of Chaos Space Marines is making landfall as we speak. How their ships intend to disengage is a mystery according to the High Admiral, but with chaos freaks, it may be that they simply dont care one way or another. “

“And as last warning, we have an Inqusition Ordo Xenos classified report, released for the Imperial Guard only today though dated on last year, detailing fairly widespread activity on Ashkelon which is classified as ‘Necron -type’.”
“Sir, what are the ‘Necrons’?”
“Apparently, Captain Ghilsinne, that information is still classified. No doubt some type of hostile or at least non-friendly xeno breed. And before you ask, no, we have not received a counter-xeno briefing on them. So its the old shoot-a-volley-first-and-ask-later -procedure for them.”

“Thank you, Major Fousak. Please convey my compliments to the corps command.”

“So, gentlemen, you now know as much as I know. And, I agree, its not a nice picture... and not a clean picture either, what with the chaos and all. But the Lord General has agreed with other Imperial Forces that the Guard will go in, and therefore the Haruukian 415th will go in, as well as other Haruukian Regiments of the 87th Draft. So we will have the collective opportunity to put the name of our dear Republic firmly on the Ashkelon Incident Campaign rolls of honor!”
“Sir, when will we make the landfall?”
“Soon. In fact, 415th will make the drop using two Catalan-class company dropships, which are now docking to our transport. That means our disembarkation is bound to be slightly longer process overall than I would like, but the Army group headquarters has adopted this position because Lord General is adamant that the guard elements must have armored support as soon as possible after the landfall. Therefore bigger dropships are allocated to our sister regiment, 426th Tank. So, Huurika, as 1st CO is the one to hit dirt first, your boys will have Leman Russes with you at the LZ just after your touch down. Major Harranno will now go over the Regiment’s detailed deambarkation orders.

“Yes sir. Like Colonel just said, the first company is tasked as spearhead, and after landing it will provide LZ security, releasing the corps stormtrooper assets which are now sweeping the LZ. To provide mobility, a wing of 419th CAS is tasked to respond with Valkyrie carriers. To provide heavy elements, a squadron of 426th Tank is assigned to the 1st CO. Mecharats of Regimental Recon are also assigned to the 1st, so you will have some Sentinels on call too. Captain Huurika will of course detail the dispostion of the company and these additional assets, but the main mission is to keep the LZ clear and guarantee undisrupted disembarkation of further elements. Questions?”
“No Sir.”
“Now then, the second CO will also embark as soon as feasible, after allowing 1st unresticted access to the launch bay. Upon landfall, the 2nd will....”

The hectic command meeting went on, ships on orbit kept on blowing each other up, shuttles and dropships kept on ferrying combatans down on the Ashkelon III, and grunts of 415ht Haruuking kept on worrying. First blood would be spilled, and every one hoped it would be some else’s.

Job at the perimeter

Leftenant Chaasine was standing near the launch bay bulkhead, intently listening to Captain Huurika assigning control sectors for the company’s platoons. The captain was furiously scribbling sector lines on the flapboard overlay which covered a large orbital augur printout of the intended landing zone. Huge nose of a Catalan class landing shuttle kept most of the painfully bright illuminators of the bay from shining on the group, but Chaasine had to shift slightly to keep reflections of the overlay out of his eyes.

First platoon had had its sector assigned, Chaasine had got an operational map handout from the company aide, and done his marks on it. But he dearly wanted to know how the captain would deploy his additional forces. His sector, in fact all the sectors, seemed to Chaasine quite too large to control effectively with only a platoon. And understrenght at that, because only two squads per platoon would go to perimeter duty, others would be retained for the landing operations and close in security.

“Now then, our brothers in steel monsters: 426th has assigned us one squadron, and Major Harranno assured me it will actually be landed at the time we get the LZ perimeter duty. I have decided to reinforce all the platoons, instead of concentrating the armor for a counter strike reserve. The reason being, we will not in the first place want to pushed so far back that a counter strike would be needed. The perimeter must be held.”

“Sir, how many LR’s will that actually mean per platoon?”

“426th is mostly up to its TOE, so I expect 2-3 tanks in each section, and a section is what you Lt’s will each get.”

“However, a mobile response force is recommended for these situations. So I have decided that each veteran cadre squad attached to 1st will board a Valkyrie from 419th Close Air Support, and be at standby to respond to any hostile activity spotted at the perimeter. Likewise, the Mecharats will deploy as sections and conduct sweeps beyond the perimeter. Each section will keep broadly within a platoon’s assigned control sector. But you know them Sentinel-jockey’s keep a tight vox contact with them so you have them if you need them. Questions?”

“Will the CO command stay at the LZ?”

“In fact, I will be on the move full time, because, for some reason we are not told but I believe we can guess at, Comissar Wejkovich has decided to attach himself to first company for the duration of the landing. Ill escort him around, unless he decides to attach himself to a specific platoon”

Chaasine wondered did the captaing really give him a brief look of warning at that point, or was it his guilty conscience acting up. Damn that final training excersice!

“The old man has agreed on this with the comissar of course. So, get to it! Next time we meet landside. Dismissed!”

Like it made any difference what the colonel said or didnt say about deployment for the bastard with black cap. Or mayby it even did matter, but that was something a fresh leftenenat had no way of knowing, mused Chaasine when the command briefing ended. Platoon commanders saluted, and, like a frightened flight of green birds, scattered to oversee the embarkation.

Red striper’s rumour

“You really recon’ we might see them Chaos-possessed, those traitor ...marines?” asked private Majito, almost stuttering on the marines part. If it hadn’t been so dark inside the troop compartment after the heavy duty illuminators of the lauch bay, corporal Jusevias Estinne would have said Majito looked too pale too. He would not go so far as accuse Majito of a shaking upper lip too. That was propably just the company lander vibrating as it started it main engines.

“Nah, not really. I just said that was what I heard at the ship’s mess yesterday evening. It was prolly nothin’ real. Though that guy had the red stripes, so he might see an’ hear more than you an’ me. Them HQ types do, even clerks.” Estinne aswered with even voice, though he almost had to shout the last part, as some techpriest enginseer picked just that moment to test boost the mains. Landing shuttle started to vibrate heavily, then, suprisingly softly, it started to rise, and then rotate in place.

“I mean, look we know we have like dozens of Adeptus Astarted Brotherhoods assembled here. Throne! You would thought they would want, no they would demand, to be the ones to face their traitorous chaos-ridden slimy rotting ex-brothers. I mean, its like its family business to them, I reckon’” Estinne checked his combat knife was nicely against his back in its scabbard, and that his extra power clips were secure in their pouches.

“You... you must be right.”, said Majito, his slanted eyes now more relaxed. “We might face some insurgents or chaos cult scum though.” he added, like wondering aloud if that would be more in line with the skills of fresh Haruukians.

“Yes we might. But I really bet the Lt has not given the sarge any intel, an’ so the sarge hasn’t said anything to us. An’ that might mean the red striper at the mess was right after all. The brass would not want us ‘unduly worried’, you know.” Estinne could not resist turning it all around again, just to see Majito turn a paler shade of pale yellow. Yep, definitely, he’s a scared bastard, he is.

Estinne checked his lasgun was properly held on the wall between himself and Majito, with its stock on the holder and strap locked to wall hook, but still within easy reach. As part of the first platoon of the first company, the alfa squad was seated right next to one of the huge rear ramps of the transport. Last in, first out, that’s one one alfa for this party, thought Estinne. Can’t really blame the kid, we are all scared bastards here.

The company lander finished its rotation, hang suspended above the lauch bay deck a moment, and then started a stately slide out of its parent transport. From a nose window, if there had been a one not fully enclosed with re-entry plasteel shutters, one would have seen a tortured world, its pink, black and orange clouds moving in unnatural patterns, some of its seas turned to green slime, others vaporized in fights already distant history. Ashkelon III. Fought over, dismantled, broken, despoiled, depopulated, carpet bombed. Still, it had its secrets, secrets to be taken, and to die for.

---

I hear motors!

Corporal Estinne squinted and took another look through aiming optics of the squad’s lascannon. Nothing moved. Nothing at all. There seemed to be precious little of animals left on Ashkelon, and birds, well, they didn’t seem to have survived at all. He hadn’t seen anything bigger than a beetle since running out of the transport that morning with Sarge Ulvinne yelling go go go before the ramp even touched down to earth.

“Its too quiet” he said softly. “Yes. Too quiet.” private Majito agreed without turning his head.

“What are you staring at?” Estinne asked, then resumed scanning the killing ground in front of the rocky hillock where their LC was deployed.

Around them the other grunts of Alfa kept an watchful eye on the ruin-strewn plain in front of the squad’s position. It had been a town center, or a manufactureum district. It was hard to tell, with only couple of dark grey buildings still retaining any substansial walls. Most intact piece of architecture was a large bronze statues of a knight, or perhaps some ancient Astares Hero.

The statue was some ways off to the left of the 1st platoon’s positions, amind broken pillars of a small sanctum. The section leader of the Leman Russes from 426th Tank had insisted that the battle cannons of his two tank section would be best employed by creating a crossfire. And Lt. Chaasine had conceded the point, but refused to split his understrenght platoon further. So the war machine had rumbled alone over to the statue, and taken a position behind some small ruined building next to it. Estinne saw that it indeed commandeered a nice firing line through a street lane, and would enfilade any hostiles seeking to close with Alfa squad. Which was very fine by one corporal Estinne, very fine indeed.

“Captain Huurika is moving up, his command boys are lugging their AC”, said Majito, “Looks like they want that popgun up here too.” “Too bad for them, we got the best spot already”, replied Estinne. Like I want the brass to peek over my shoulder. Too bad indeed, he silently finished.

“Sarge Oikan has a visitor over at Beta, too” continued Majito slowly. “...its the comissar. They are talking something. Laughing even.” Sergeant major Oikan was one of the few Haruukian non-comm veterans that had taken over positions in the line companies of the regiment. Majority of the veterans from now-disbanded regiments of previous Haruukian drafts had been retained as extra veteran squads outside regimental TOE, but Oikan with his metallic synthoarm and sizzling power sword was already a figure of near legendary propotions within 415th.

“What are they yadding about, can you hear?” wondered Estinne, too reluctant to stop fiddling with LC optics to take a peek at Beta squad himself.

“Can’t hear it, its too silent, that rumbling.. oh gak” gawked Majito. “I hear motors!”, they said both at once.

“Its a Rhino, two of them!” someone yelled. “Dead ahead!”

“Ident? Vox, any signals?” Estinne faintly heard Sarge Ulvinne growl somewhere behind the hillock while he was busy turning LC and scanning for targets. “No signals, no IFF transponder”.

“Throne! I see it... its... its wicked.” someone, private Gruus possibly, hollered on top of the hillock. “There! I have it... two rhinos, again, two rhinos spotted. Targeting is... is odd” Estinne tried to chant out his target as they had trained to do, but his hands started shaking along with his voice.

“Target Rhinos, Lt says open fire, say again open fire” yelled Ulvinne. “Firing!” shouted Estinne while he squuzed the trigger gently. Lascannon kraked, and as a blue flash faded he reacquired the target. “Front vehicle discharged smoke, no hit, repeat no hit” he singsonged. Majito, busy minding the recharge levels, scanned targets with his mark I eyeballs.

“There is something else there too... something big with... wings?” Majito sputtered incongruously.

Its going to get ugly

“Well well. Chaos-scum in power armor. But they are not here yet. Farouk, keep your plasma ready. Corporal Westinne, just take your time. Its just smoke, you can hit the cursed rhino”, sergeant major Oikan said calmly, pitching his voice just right to be heard over the ding of battle. “Yessah!” Lascan kraked again, and first squad grunts staring at fast closing rhinos over their lasgun sights immediadly saw that the first rhino was done for. It belched black, oily smoke, mixing it with discharged white-grey smokescreen, and halted screeching.

“Well done LC crew! Now pick the other one!” bellowed Comissar Wejkovich with his slightly foreign-sounding accent. Oikan saw that the AC crew on next hillock to left, Captain Huurika’s command squad heavy team, were waving and yelling in triumph. No need to address that, he thought, stopping that rhino is what counts.

From the striken rhino emerged the enemy: large men in red and gold armor with horned helmets and spiky backpacks. And they roared. Almost animal sound of bloodlust. At once an piercing scream answered them, more terrifying and unearthly than the howling of the traitor marines. Something dark and shadowy blue stretched its huge wings behind the intact rhino.

“Ach... a demon! We shall put the Emperor’s flame to it and drive it back to festering warp!” Wejkovich shouted. His words were almost drowned out by the discharge of the nearby Leman Russes’ huge battle cannon. The shot missed the rear rhino, now edging around its destroyed twin. A moment later the section leader’s tank, hiding alone in the ruins far left of the platoon’s positions, also let loose with its main armament. Rhino shuddered but kept on moving. The demon roared, in fury and bloodlust rather than in pain, but a rend appeared in one of its wings.

“Take aim lads, and keep low!” sarge Oikan barked, then skipped down from the gray granite hillock his squad occupied to confer with the comissar. “I reckon we might need backup, sir”. “I concur. Ach, a few steady meltashots are in order. I shall let captain Huurika know that I shall endorse his decision to call in his CAS support. Vox operator!”

Oikan saluted and scrambled up the incline while his voxman crossed over to the comissar. Oikan noted contentedly that the Mecharats section was already moving up the sides of wooded plateau which shielded his own position’s right side. Going to get flank shots on the lice-ridden chaos madmen, good thinking. And HK missiles too, that big ugly blueface could actually get hurt with those, he thought before focusing again on the advancing enemy.

A blinding flash on the left made him flinch, and then a second moment later. Captain is in trouble, but where.... that ruin! “Enemy plasma cannons, 12 o’clock, high, ruins!” sergeant major shouted. “Acquire as secondary target!” “Yessah, seeking!” replied corporal Weston as his LC was powering up.

Chaos marines were charging ahead, leaving the cover of a small rocky outcrop next to their destroyed transport. Its going to get ugly for the alfa squad. Real ugly, realized Oikan when he saw where the warpmad traitors were headed.

Make a demon scream

“Target that monster! Forget the rhino! Forget the runners! Bring it down!” segeant Ulvinne yelled, relaying captain Huurika’s frantic orders for his squad. He scrambled back on top of the hillock, leaving the cover of the hillside where his voxman had hunkered down with his set. Lasguns cracked, with the louder sound of lascannon covering other noises, the heavy piece firing once before recharcing

Dammit them barstards run fast, thought Ulvinne when he saw that the chaos inflicted marines from the stricken rhino had covered the distance from the wreck to their side of alfa squad’s hillock in the moments he had conferred with company commander. But the intimidating, bluish form of the demon still rose over the side of the rocky hill, even though it too had moved closer to the guardsmen.

“Did you hit it?” Ulvinne asked. “No, it moves too fast!” Esinne said busily trying to depress their lascannon. “They are too close!” barked private Majito in mounting desperation “We can’t shoot them! They will charge...” “Shut up and grab your lasgun Majito!” shouted Ulvinne, reaching a decision he might not live to regret for long. When Majito failed to move at once Ulvinne shoved him bodily towards lascannon team’s equipment pile, and turned to shout orders. “Alfa squad, move out! We will give that monster a nice guard volley. Specialist, sharply now.”

Ugly chant of chaos marines could be heard somewhere in front of the squad, but Ulvinne urged and pushed his men towards left, to confront the winged demon directly. Leman Russ at the left flank shot its main armament, huge piles of dirt fountaining up from base of the hill. Ulvinne thought he also saw a red marine helmet flying up with rock shards. “Get ready!” he yelled, then, a sudden loud whining noise distracted him. It came behind their positions. Closing fast....there! A valkyrie assault carrier!

The short winged twin tailed assault gunship closed to the ruins, flying low, so low that Ulvinne momentarily thought it would collide with the great bronze statue. But the pilot knew his drill, expertly dodging statue and remaing walls, closing in.

“It’s the victor squad!” Ulvinne yelled, “Let’s cover their approach!” The rippling blue form of the demon had turned too, to gaze at the valkyrie. “Fire!” Ulvinne ordered, and lasguns kraked in unison. Demon’s shadowy form was hit, and hit again by lasguns eating through their cells at full auto, but the only hits the monster seemed to register were the plasmashot of specialist Tiunne. Bright orange flashes amid strobos of blue lasgun fire, Ulvinne actually saw parts of the demon disintegrate, with hateful yellow green un-light spilling out of warp beast.

Valkyrie discharged both of its multiple rocket pods, targeting the demon. Frag warheads designed to pulp lightly armored xenos might not be best suited to killing warp monstorities or piercing unholy power armor, but there were a lot of rockets flying from the pods. Their racket heartedned Ulvinne, as he saw the demon realing from shrapnel.

“And now let’s give it ano...” his voice was droned out by a sound of such magnitude that even the screaming engines of valkyrie could not be heard. It was a pained rage scream of a greater demon of the warp. Its psychic echo was like ice directly poured on men’s hearts. The guardsmen of alfa squad were momentarily frozen where they stood, some loading, some taking cover. When the paralysys passed, their eyes met those of blood hungry Khorne’s berzerkers. Traitor marines were charging up the hill, closing in, howling in reponse to their hurt master’s scream.

“Bayonets!” Ulvinne shouted, activating his chainsword.

-----

Greens going down

Leftenant Chaasine was angry. Very angry. Of course he was scared as hell as well, though he was not about to admit it to anyone. When the rhinos appeared, he had been conferring with the Mecharats’ section leader. That black scarecrow Wejkovich had sneaked on him, had been chatting and laughing with sergeant major Oikan of Beta squad like old mates. Somehow Oikan and the rest of the Beta squad had “forgot” to inform him about the commissar arriving. That also ment that company Co was somewhere close too, and Chaasine was not there to report his status. Not nice.

On top of that, when Chaasine finally spotted the commissar, he had already dispatched the pair of Mecharats’ sentinels to move up to the wooded plateau, to get flank shots on the traitors. On his own authority as platoon leader responsible for the sector.

Oh well. That was certainly something the comissar might decide to pick on, but first they both had to survive the battle they suddenly had on their hands.

Chaasine had then decided to postpone facing the comissar, and instead resolved first to do something, anything, which the comissar would be bound to approve. Chaasine had led his command squad cautiously forward, closing on the large rocky hill in front of the Alfa squad position, using the plateau edge to cover his right. From where they were, enemy rhinos had been almost hidden, but when lascannos of alfa and beta had opened up, hits and near misses could be seen as bluish flashes above the rocky ridge ahead.

His command squad specialists had not been too keen on advancing, so they had gone on cautiously. Leman Russ behind them fired its battle cannon, blast from the cannon’s mouth felt as a warm breeze behind them. Sentinels, having scaled the ridge up to the plateau on the right flank, also opened up with their whining multlasers.

Then black smoke had belched up from an enemy vehicle, and soon after that, a second rhino appeared in front of Chaasine, speeding through the narrow defile between two rocky hills. “Pull back!” he shouted, and promethium tanks sloshing on their backs his squad retreated a bit. Too slow, its going to run over us! Chaasine thought taking a look over his shoulder, but at that moment a hunter killer missile from the sentinels hit the rhino squaredly on its front glacis, penetrated, and wrecked the vehicle. It rolled a dozen meters forward on momentum, shedding twisted plating and pieces of threads.

Hatches of the broken rhino popped open even before it slewed to its final resting place, and menacing forms of red and gold Khornite traitors poured out. For a moment Chaasine thought they would charge straight away, but multilasers and shots from Beta squad made the traitors take some cover in the lee of the rocky hillock between them and Alfa squad’s fire positions.

“Voxman!”, Chaasine barked, “Instruct Ulvinne to pull back at once, those traitors are going to slam on Alfa!”. Even as his vox operator started to call out Alfa squad, the leftenant saw that he was right, the chaos marines were scaling the steep sides of the hillock, avoiding open ground between them and his command squad. Then, to his horror, he also saw that Ulvinne’s squad stood up from their firing positions and started moving left, to confront the deamon, ignoring power armored traitors massing for an assault.

A moment later Ulvinne’s squad gave the demon their best, its piercing cry stoned men where they stood, and traitors howled, and charged the Alfa squad. Chaasine saw company command squad’s AC on the same hill empty its drum, heavy shells missing or bouncing from warp cursed armor, and he realized that captain Huurika would be overhelmed along with alfa. Throne, I am about to get the command of this mess. Again. His anger rose, sidelining his fear.

“Forward!” Chaasine yelled to his dazed squad. “What? Charge them?” asked specialist Thuurik increduloysly, look on his face telling Chaasine he would rather bolt back to hide on the safe side of the Leman Russ slowly rumbling behind them. “No you lackwit! We are going to torch them!” Chaasine shouted, angrily slapping the trooper’s promethium tanks in response. “Forward! Ready flame!”.

When they moved out, specialists checking their flamers, Chaasine saw the reds of the chaos traitors mingle with the greens of the guard. With greens going down fast, very fast indeed.

Real hot real soon

Captain Huurika was really still dazed by the plasma blasts that had hit his command squad. The company’s regimental colours were down, the flag bearer a charred carcass. His vox operator had also been mortally wounded in the blast, and Huurika had been thrown to ground, his own reflector field flickering when it took the blast’s heat and pressure. Luckily it had held, these fields were not the most dependable of Imperium’s STC equipment.

When he shakily got back on his legs, Huurika had tried to help the vox operator, but molten rock and granite shards from the explosions had lacerated his body too badly, some of the bigger cuts and largest burns going through right to the bone. Autocannon’s sharp bark had drawn Huurika back to the battle going on. He had seen the second rhino take a killing hit while he tried to raise sergeant Ulvinne, first with his commbead, then, realizin the gizmo was actually burned out, by waving his arms and yelling.

Again the AC got his attention. Huurika spotted that the traitors were about to charge... were charging... AC hammered its drum empty... a huge red armored beast of a man with a horned helmet suddenly appeared in front of Huurika. Somehow, he had drawn and activated his chainsword, and automatically, he blocked. AC gunner stabbed that chaos marine on the back, but like a striking killer snake, the marine turned. Ugly golden sigils seemed to float on the red pauldrons, eternally cursing Emperor’s loyal subjects. The hapless guard veteran was broken open by eagerly snarling chainblade.

Huurika swayed on his legs, and managed to hit the monster. His sword revved and shed adamantium splinters, but the cut was not deep enough. Slapping his swordarm aside, his opponent swiped in low. Refractor field kicked in, blunting the strike, but captain lost his weak hold on balance, and went down hard and screaming and waiting to die.

At that moment, a lasgun shot from Alfa squad’s desperate melee pinged on the chaos warrior’s blood red helmet, just between eye lenses. With a roar of incoherent rage, the horned warrior charged to avenge that lucky, or unlucky, shot, leaving Captain Huurika to pant on the ground, his nose profusely bleading from the field washback.

Private Niemelle, the AC loader, found his semi-conscious company commander a moment later. “Sir, we gotta go, get up, do get up!” he hissed. Niemelle’s helmet was gone, along with his left shoulder guard. He was bleeding a lot, from a long gash along his left side and neck, but the shock kept him going. “Yes. Just a moment...” Huurika groaned. “Sir, now Sir! They are butchring Alfa, they will be back...” Huurika heaved himself on his legs, and they started stumbling down the hillock’s back.

First Huurika was the one helped, but soon he recovered, and realized how hurt the AC loader was. Supporting the private, he tried to check his bearings. “Beta should be reinforcing Alfa, surely, they are on the right flank...” Sounds of running, somewhere behind. Glancing back, Huurika saw the red shapes of traitors moving, closing in from the left. Then sounds from the right too. From behind a nearby stony crag, a helmeted head popped up. Weak sun rays from the bleak sky caught on metallic tanks, marked with white skull and bones -symbols. Containers carried by guardsmen, closing in from the right.

“Sir, get down, get down now!”, yelled leftenant Chaasine, leading his team uphill. “Its getting real hot real soon!”.

----

Ride the wind

Sergeant Roihenne stood at the open side door of the low flying valkyrie, his green bandana flapping in the wind. They were fast roaring ahead towards the ruined village in center of the first platoon’s deployment sector, summoned by comissar Wejkovich.

Roihenne’s veterans had been on the standby, all geared up, lounging on the large boulders next to their assigned valkyrie on the improvised stand-by field of the 419th Haruukian Regiment of Close Air Support. Their idle chat had quieted down when they noted a regimental aide running out from the field hq, dodging between the plasteel prefab close defense shields, and heading straight for their valk.

45 seconds later they were airborne. Gotta hand it to the flyboys, when told to go they went. Eager to snag a piece of action, they were. Shouting over the engine rumble, Roihenne had conversed on the intercom with the weapons officer about their orders. WO had told that the comissar had requested back up for the first platoon, to “handle a large hostile believed to be strongly warp-touched”. Or a demon, to call the bastard what it was, thought Roihenne. CAS Valkyerie was to deliver Roihenne’s veterans within melta range of the beast, they were to cook it back to the warp, then re-board if feasible, and deploy again if needed. WO added grinning that the flyboys had discretion to unload their rocket pods too if it seemed advisable.

“Hey rednecks! No heroics, just get them meltas in range and discharged. Then pull back to Valk. You hear me?”, Roihenne yelled, taking a quick look at both fireteams, seated back to back on valk’s central bench. Raised fists signalled understood, only Greftac, their pitch-black adopted Haruukian, yelling back “Sir, Yes Sir!”, grinning so his snow white teeth seemed to sparkle. To complete his jest, he stood up and saluted with parade ground precision.

We are set to go, and to survive. Like veterans, thought Roihenne suppressing a grin of his own.

Swooping lower still, the valkyrie closed on the ruins, almost touching a giant statue. Smoke. Lasgun cracks. Leman Russ moving, heavy bolter thudding. There! A large bluish form. With wings. Roihenne grabbed the intercom, “I see it! 10 o’clock, next to that hill” “Roger, hovering closer” Roihenne saw a rhino burning, red armored troopers massing behind the hill, another rhino pushing between rocky hills, then sliding to rest smoking.

“Lines down!” he yelled, troopers moved to side doors, pilot was lowering the rear ramp, valkyries was still descending, but ruined walls would not permit a landing or near ground hover. Roihenne dropped the intercom to dangle from its cord, faintly hearing the WO yell go-go. “OUT! Move it” the beefy sergeant shouted grimly. Troopers were moving, sliding down the polyfiber lines from both doors, handhold loops in the line slowing their descent. They hit the ground hard but controlled, rolling and moving to scatter in cover of the ruins.

Roihenne was last down, pulling his plasma pistol from its holster while still sliding, the valk already starting to rise. Thudding down, he looked up, saw the WO wave once, valkyerie rise, floating backwards a few meters. Then the rockets started to ingite in pods under both wings, and streaking as a river of fire towards the red armored marine traitors, they hit, many impacting on the blue winged demon form too.

“Meltas forward! Lasguns rapid fire! Hit that blue bugger!”

Run, run!

Ulvinne braced his legs when a giant in red armor, moving unbeliavably fast, jumped at him, swinging a heavy chainsword in a vicious downward hack. Sparks erupted when the monofilament edges clashed. Sergeant brought up his laspistol, shot the enemy in midriff with no effect except perhaps ereasing an ugly chaos sigil. Horned warrior kicked, and Ulvinne’s desperate twist to avoid heavy plasteel boot was only halfway successful, his right shoulder guard ripping from his flakvest. He fell backwards, spinning, dropping his pistol. Enemy closed in, moving to cut down with its revving sword.

At that instant, an ugly, ripping sound, a long, drawn out word, dripping of pure evil but stained, astonishingly, with pain and denial, burst over the battlefield. It vibrated in the minds of the combatants, chaos and imperial alike. A demon lord had been forcefully banished, its form on this plane hurt and broken beyond even its chaos-blessed ability to recuperate. Melta blasts of Roihenne’s veterans had brought a brief glimpse of a sun’s fiery center right down on the demon’s shadowy form, burning even the sick green inner warp light of its being away.

From somewhere, lasgun shots hit the ground around his momentarily stopped opponent. Ulvinne seized the moment, rolled and sprang up. It’s the Beta squad, they are trying to give us cover, he realized, yelling at once: “Pull back, run!”. He feared that most of the squad was already down.

A couple of meters away, his heavy gunner, Corporal Estinne, threw his lasgun against his assailant, its bayonet already broken on cursed ceramite armor. Ulvinne turned to run down from the hill, lasgun shots landing around him and some pinging the traitors’ armor. We are not going to make it. They will just... a loud bang made him again look back, almost missing his step on the rocky hillside. A grenade just had just exploded, showering the chaos marines with shrapnel and rock shards. A figure in bloodied guard uniform rose from behind the upturned lascannon. One hand hanging limp at his side, private Majito charged the stymied chaos worshippers, two more frag grenades clutched agains his chest, their pins already removed, then a detonation, bowling over two of the traitors.

“Everyone, run run!” shouted Ulvinne hoarsely, seeing perhaps two or three more guardsmen moving, each one wounded. He turned to run again, then, to his suprise, saw men on his left side moving uphill. Leading them onwards, leftenant Chaasine in his peaked cap, waving his chainsword. Then the leftenant shouted “All down!” and his cry was echoed by his command squad specialists, “All down! Flamers!”

Ulvinne hit the ground hard, corporal Estinne flopping exhaustedly next to him. Short sputtering noise, then a wooshing sound, at once multiplied, and strong yellow orange light, and a hard wave of superheated air. And then, unearthly cries and crackling of ceramite, sounds of chaos marines roasting in their armor.

Broken wings

Sergeant Roihenne shuddered, but did not freeze from the demon lord’s death shriek. He stood up, looked at charred spot near the hillock where the demon had stood, and saw the Lord’s pack of red armored traitors pulling themselves together, start to move and get up, obviously still battle worthy. And angry. One bunch had already been engaged with the guardsmen on the hill, when the demon went down. But the other bunch, they were moving, in a way that seemed to be decidedly unhealthy for Roihenne's veterans.

“Good shooting! Now, back, everybody, back!”, Roihenne yelled. His plasma pistol cooled with metallic creaks, its emitter still glowing almost white hot. His veteran squad had killed the demon with their melta-spiced volley, but would stand little change against chaos marines in close combat. Some lasguns cracked, doing no marked harm to enemy. Not to worry, we will just get back in the valk, take a hop and...

Lascannon cracks, followed at once with impact explosions, and then a sound of cracking metal and revving motors. Roihenne half turned, looked up and saw their Valkyrie spew smoke, start to turn, then fall, flames jumping up high from one of its motors. “It’s falling!” someone under the valk’s shadow yelled. Roihenne dived back towards the enemy, trying to avoid the dying aircraft. His squad scattered, but the Valk dropped straight on, then, at the last moment before it crushed the ruined walls and the veteran squad, its nose dipped up, its remaining motor’s sound rose to a high pitched metallic keening, and the large aircract halted, then moved backwards some ten meters. Its tailboom touched the ruins, and it finally crashed to ground. Secondary explosions scattered parts of the airframe around, and the main wreckage filled the street between ruins completely.

Damit, there goes the lift. Roihenne noted that his men had escaped, but only for a moment. Chaos madmen were already charging. “To me! Fighting retreat!”, he hollered, but saw first guardsmen already being cut down. A glance to left, Leman Russ moving but blocked behind the burning valkyrie. Draw chainsword, block a traitor’s heavy swing, push plasma pistol right into the chaos scum’s armored chest, pull the trigger, red power armor glowing as the direct hit hammered it with a force so irresistible that even a marine was thrown backward, dropping prone amid the ruins.

Greftac’s head landed right next to Roihenne’s leg, spinnng on its helmet, blood still spurting from the severed neck. This is not going nicely. “Run! To left!”, Roihenne yelled, scrambling over a large rockrete rubble pile. Down the other side, shoot the plasma pistol backwards, running, now on clearer ground. Some of his men were still with him, but the traitors were running them down.

Suddenly, a large booming explosion amid the ruins just behind fleeing veterens, cutting down some of the chaos inflicted marines. Roihenne glanced to his right, and saw a LR battle cannon through the haze of the downed valkyrie. He kept running while the heavy bolter of the battle tank started to chatter, mass reactive shells impacting among the enemies.

I am liking the fluff, and like the general key as to why all this is happening as the planet has a hidden thing about it.

Thanks for the feedback!

The conflict on Ashkelon is a long winded affair. That planed has already been a scene for two previous local wh40k leagues, and has some nice fluff about it. Some of the story surfaces in my AAR's too.

Just materiel

When the demon Lord died, most of the squad Beta had been hugging the ground. Enemy plasma cannons, which had first targeted the company command squad, had switched aim to suppress Beta. The granite hillock they occupied luckily offered many nice cracks and boulders for cover. Their lascannon aswered once, but to no effect. Again the orange plasma blasts scortched earth on the hillock’s side, not quite hitting anyone.

Comissar Wejkovich was standing almost ramrod straight in spite of the plasma barrage. “Ach, chaos bastards are about to hit the Alfa squad.”, he growled, pointing to the hill on the left, where red and gold armored marines we about to hack guardsmen apart. Wejkovich noted that leftenant Chaasine was leading his command squad to enemy’s flank. Nodding to himself, he said “Sergeant Oikan, we must offer covering fire so that Chaasine can burn the insidius traitor’s with the Emperors fire”. As an afterthought he added: “Alfa’s survivors might also disengage if given a chance”.

“Yes Sir!”, snapped sergeant major Oikan next to him, and continued louder: “Beta squad, face left, take aim.... first rank... fire! Some lasguns cracked, their flashes cold blue. “Second rank... fire!” The heavy lascannon’s discharge was a louder crack, and plasma gun’s rapid fire was like a pair of fiery comets streaking amid the traitors.

Several enemies dropped down, at least one truly destroyed by the plasma bolts, his smoking armor toppling over without legs. As the Khornites noted this new threat, their pursuit of Alfa squad forgotten, leftenant Chaasine got his moment. Greedy promethium flames burned, specialists giving the hillside a fiery bath with an extra dose of gas even after nothing moved any more, just to be on the safe side.

Wejkovich’s content survey of the ashen remains of a traitor warpack were interrupted almost rudely: first lascannon fire impacted on the veteran squad’s valkyrie, bringing it down, and then the sentinels, half hidden in the woods of the plateau, were hit with lascannon fire.

“Get a fix on those lascannons!” bellowed Oikan, moving up the hillock next to LC gunner corporal Westinne. “Trying sir... it must be that ruin, at least for some of them”, Westinne said, pointing to the highest ruin visible, some Fabrikum building with a miraculously almost intact corner. “Fire when ready!” said Oikan, turning to look at their supporting Leman Russ. The battle tank rumbled slowly forward, following the side of the plateau. Its threads screetched in metallic tones when the tank edged as close to the incline as it could. Its massive turret moved slowly, the battle cannon taking aim at the ruin Westinne had suggested as enemy’s fire position.

The tank fired, a huge blast of rubble and dust billowed outwards and upwards from the corner ruin, but the structure was build to last, and did not fall. Instead, a pair of lascannons barked, one on the upper floor creating a bluish halo in the dust cloud. The shots were true, previous hits having burned away some of the trees obscuring the sentinel pair. Sergeant Oikan saw at once that one of the sentinels was done for, its left leg crumbling under it, and motor belching black smoke. The pilot jumped from the falling machine’s cockpit. Oikan didn’t see if he managed to clear the wreck. “Now you have fix, corporal. Try to knock it out!” “Yes sir! Firing!”

Lascannon hit the wall of the ruin. “No effect sir!” “Recharge!” Oikan snapped, moving down next to the comissar and squad’s vox operator. “Leftenant Chaasine signals that we have some survivors of Alfa and company command secured, and that the hill of the Alfa is clear of chaos taint”, informed the vox operator. “Ach so. I believe we might have destroyed the enemy. I believe it was a reconnaissance in force, not a general advance or an offensive at all”, said comissar Wejkovich.

A muted explosion sounded from the wooded plateau. “The other mecharat is done for, it simply exploded, sir! Pilot got out it seems“, corporal Westinne shouted down for Oikan. “Keep on engaging the enemy position!” the sergeant replied. Squad’s lascannon had recharged, Westinne took aim, trying to find the elusive opposing lascannons, shot at his best mark, and saw no indication of a hit. Indeed he saw no lascannons, only some slowly moving large shape. “No hit Sir!”

Beyond the charred and body part littered hill of squad Alfa, the ruins shuddered with a battle cannon hit. “Voxman, contact tank section leader. Find out what he is engaging!” snapped comissar Wejkovich. Vox operator dialed his system, repeating the callsigns with a professionally dull voice. After all, his squad was no longer getting shot at.

“Sir, the section leader advices us some of the Chaos loonies were hiding at the ruins. He believes them to be... blown back up to their arse of terror, his words sir!”. Voxman was intently listening for more, when with a sudden squak of static the contact when silent. “Lost con..”, he began reporting, when a huge explosion thundered around the ruined landscape, echoing from the woods and still standing walls. A Leman Russ turret sailed high up in the air on top of a thick black smoke pillar, incredibly seeming to float above the ruins of the left flank for a moment, then smashing down on the valkyrie’s still smoldering wreck.

“I believe that was the section leader’s Russ. And apparently he had not blown quite all of the chaos animals up.” said sergeant major Oikan in conversational tones. “Ach, I would venture to say that which ever beast lived to do that”, said Wejkovich pointing to the smoke pillar, “is now gone back to its demented masters”.

“Sir, do we advance to clear the perimeter?”, Oikan asked. “No. No need.”, replied the comissar, noticing that leftenant Chaasine was eagerly leading his command squad to investigate. “That,”, he said waving towars the still thickening smoke column, “like the sentinels, was just materiel, and few crewmen perhaps. Material which the Guard has ample reserves of, even here on the cursed Ashkelon. We command the perimeter here quite nicely. Mobile enemies are destroyed. The landing of the 415th will continue uninterrupted. That’s the mission, and the mission is what matters, sergeant”.

---end of first round AAR---

First round scenario & lists

Scenario: Annihilation + Pitched Battle

Haruukian 415th Regiment of Foot
HQ
-“1st Company HQ”, Company Command Squad
Troops
-“1st Platoon”, Infantry Platoon
--Platoon Command Squad
--Infantry Squad
--Infantry Squad
-Squad "Roihenne", Veteran Squad
Fast Attack:
-Valkyrie Assault Carrier
-"Mecharats", Scout Sentinel Squadron (2)
Heavy Support:
-Leman Russ Battle Tank
-Leman Russ Battle Tank


Chaos Space Marines
HQ:
-Daemon Prince
Troops:
-Berserkers (9) + Rhino
-Berserkers (8) + Rhino
Heavy Support:
-Obliterators (2)
-Obliterators (2)

One of the cursed Khornite berserkers survived, and blew up the LR. Haruukians finally lost with score of 4 to 6 of the traitor marines. League points 0.

---

---Second round AAR---

Fixing the vox

The voice in the voxcoder’s receiver sounded tinny and a bit irritated: “...you will proceed to coordinates indicated in the ops map, visually confirm and select the highest building, and proceed to establish a full security cordon. After your confirmation, regimental engineering detail will move in to install the comm relay station. As for the recon brief, we have an unconfirmed orbital augur readout of an armored force moving at AF455, heading to your operational area. No identity established, and no contact. Which should suprise no-one...” A brief static noise interrupted colonel Fuemenne’s tirade. “… oody f... up, Throne! So for once I ag.... th the metal faced freaks from the corps’ machinist conclave, Throne! So grap some tower and mayby we get decent vox cover out here again. Questions?”

Captain Huurika shifted his weight, favoring his left leg. It still ached, would probably for some time, even though the doc had said he was taking the synthoskin well. “Sir, I understood the first is getting armor support?” Vox sputtered. “Sir, say again, sir?” Huurika was forced to ask. “I said, yes, you will get a full section of LR’s from 426th Tank. Try not to get any of them blown up this time, colonel Sarkonne is getting annoyed about the rate we let his toys get wrecked.” The colonel’s voice faded and sounded very small, like a cartoon character speaking in children’s vidcast back home on Haruuk. “Sir, we will provide better screening, the drills have been extremely through about that!” “Very well, good luck captain. Fuemenne out.”, the vox squaked and the call ended before Huurika could answer the colonel. Seemed like the old man was in a hurry. He most likely was, and most likely because of the Astartes.

Captain Huurika had heard, while getting patched up at the field hospital, some ugly rumours, of friendly fire accidents, that were not accidents but more like full blown battles, or at least skirmishes. About over eager Adeptus Astartes enforcing purity inspections on Imperial Guard regiments. About the Astartes refusing to acknowledge the Lord General’s orders, or at least interpreting them... differently.

All the rumours agreed that shots had been fired, and that all of the power armored superhumans should be treated warily. There had been whispers about a touch of chaos in all of this, when, after the smoke had lifted, it had been found that imperials had slain imperials.

Personally Huurika thought that talk was incompetents covering up their mistakes, more that any mystic chaos mist drifting around. From his experince, it would be hard to credit the blood crazed zealots of the warp with anything so subtle as deceiving the guard and the astartes against each other. That would more easily fit for some Ordo Inquisition machinations, or even power politics of the sector’s mighty eminences’.

Huurika sighed. He had his orders, and two of his platoons at his disposal. “Voxman, raise the leftenants Chaasine and Woikas. Conf call. Actually, add comissar Wejkovich too.”

---

Fragments

“Carry on, sergeant!” “Yessir!”. Leftenant Woikas turned, heading for the company command post in the rear corner of the ruined emporium building his platoon was taking fire positions in. Sergeant Matista of the Delta squad continued overseeing the deployment of heavy weapons. The second platoon of Woikas was deployed as a fully combined squad, Woikas having agreed with captain Huurika that the lascannon firepower of the platoon should be combined, in case the unidentified armored force approaching their operational area should turn out to be hostile.

Walking through a bombed out factory kitchen space, Woikas kicked a charred trolley, still full of scorched plates. With a sound of breaking porcelain, it collapsed againts a mound of rubble. Burned and brittle, like the rest of this worthless planet, he thought. Hefting his boltgun, a non-standard rarity piece of equipment, Woikas strode over the pile of burned inner walls and broken remains of culinary apparatus. His tall and well trained form was topped with a desert yellow officer’s cap. As a career soldier from the Haruukian PDF, he had volunteered for the Guard draft. Most of the Haruukian Draft’s units were clad in uniformed mid-tone green, but “PDF vets” had had some discretion in retaining their PDF yellows if they wanted. On a whim, Woikas had kept his PDF cap.

Woikas shifted his treasured boltgun again, working its broad strap higher up on his muscled shoulder, and saluted. “Captain, second platoon in position as ordered, sir.” “Very good, Woikas. Do you have the comm-gizmo the regiment sent?” “Yes sir, my voxman has it installed in his set”, said Woikas, gesturing back to his command squad, in position near the still standing front wall.

“Excellent. Now, comissar Wejkovich is setting up the left flank guard with Leftenant Chaasine, I expect that we can proceed with the measurements quite soon”. Captain Huurika had to raise his voice to get it over the rumbling of motors of the Leman Russ section taking positions just behind the emporium ruin. All three massive tanks would be well sheltered, in cover of the ruined walls, and with most of the company positioned to provide close security for them. Huurika would lose no LR’s at this deployment, no sir he would not.

“Your command squad will move out and climb that central ruined tower. Your vox specialist will take the measurements for the regimental tech staff, and we can all..” “Contact!” yelled Huurika’s vox operator. “Sir, we are being hailed at imperial command frequency!” Huurika, followed closely by Woikas, moved next to the company command’s voxman, who was busily tuning his set. “Signal is clear and powerful... but sir, its also fragmentary...” “Put in on the speaker!” snapped Huurika.

With an elecric humm ending in a high pitched beeping noise the vox machine routed its output. “THIS is IDOLA TRIBUS, CEASE and desist at....” A long thrumming sound, like wordless chanting, interrupted the communication. Just when Huurika was about to slap the operator, voxman’s hectic fiddling of the controls tuned the broadcast back. “We repeat: WE WILL CLEANSE all herectic and rebel elements. THIS IS idola tribus, CEASE and DESIST all activity.”

“Hail them back, and indentify us. Use guard standard IFF transponder” said captain Huurika hastily. “IFF already sending. No return, no acknowledge, sir!” The speaker thundered again “THIS IS IDOLA tribus. WE WILL CLEANSE all unpure. WE will burn the herectic.” Huurika snapped the microphone, thumped the tangent and said as clearly as possible “This is Haruukian 415th regiment, first company, captain Huurika speaking. We are not herectics. We have cleared the immediate viciny, on coordinates...” Woikas quickly held forward his ops map. “...A322 to B327. No chaos activity, I repeat no chaos activity We are not heretic, I repeat, not heretic.”

Blinking green light of the sending stopped. Huurika released the tangent. “Sir, I fear that might have fragmented a bit too... “, the voxman started to say, but the speaker beeped, and the chant-like thrumming started, first almost inaudible but then gaining volume fast. Beep. Then a booming voice: “You DECLARE your heresy?” Thrumming sound. “.. IS idola TRIBUS, you WILL..” Beep. “ … and BE cleansed, by my order as a sacred chaplain of IDOLA TRIBUS. You...”. Thrumming. “...the UNPURE will BURN!”. Red light of the receiving blinked once, then lit back up. Voiceless chant poured from the speaker.

“Shut that down!” Woikas shouted. Huurika nodded, and the specialist cut the speaker. Pale faced, Huurika turned to Woikas. “Get the platoon ready to advance to support you. It might happen some Astartes will try to cleanse us.”

---

Deceived

“Rhino! Two Rhinos. Ten o’clock, by the hillside” “I see it! Lascannons, target closest Rhino”, bellowed Oikan. His beta squad was combined with the alfa of Ulvinne. The combined squad had been moving left of the second platoon and company command, to provide a flank guard, when captain Huurika had warned that inbound Astartes might turn out to be... non-friendly.

“Ach, they are moving carefully. Must be heading behind that ruined tower”, comissar Wejkovich commented, standing next to Oikan on top the rocky hillock they had selected as fire position. Comissar’s red shash of rank flapped lazily in the brisk morning breeze. “We will hold our position, and declare our allegiance to the Emperor. If needs be, we will stand firm in execution of our orders!” Wejkovich declared, just loud enough to be overheard by most of the combined squad.

“Sir! Contact! Woods, eleven o’clock, high, on the ridge.” a soldier called out. Oikan trained his magnoculars, small sanctified motors whirring as the focus sharpened. “I see it, private LePannie. Its a bloody Predator, it is, and full of lascannons. Wonder what our armored brothers think of that.” Oikan curtly told the voxman to relay new contact to Leman Russ section, and then continued to survey the opposing force. “There’s something behind that tank too... rockets?” “Ach, let me see”, the comissar said, taking the oculars offered by Oikan. “It is a Whirlwind. We may get fiery rain on our necks if this comes to blows”, Wejkovich said cryptically, and turned to the vox operator. “Get me captain Huurika. We may have a mission for Mecharats”.

Quieting down and each checking his cover as best they could, the guardsmen waited. Rhinos had disappeared behind a ruined corner, their motors still audible. The breeze died. A rumbling noice could heard, coming from the left. “Contact! Walkers!” a private yelled. “I have it. Hold your fire!”, Oikan answered. “Dreadnoughts... moving in, they are closing”, Oikan remarked to sergeant Ulvinne, who had come up to the hillocks crest too. Comissar Wejkovich was still talking to the captain in hushed tones. “I wonder what this is all about”, whispered Ulvinne almost to himself.

Metallic grating voice boomed from the ponderously advancing lead walker: “PURIFY the unclean! SMASH the traitor!” Its huge assault cannon started to whirl, accelerating up to operational speed. “Oh Throne, they are gonna...” a lascannon gunner started to shout, but in that instant his voice was drowned out as the three battlecannons of the Leman Russ section fired as a ragged volley, each blast echoing from the ruins. Someone had been deceived.

---

They will not reach us

“Sergeant Matista to company command. Warning shots were... good, but the Astartes are still moving forward. Orders?”. For a moment Matista heard nothing from the vox. Then the captain sighed, and reluctantly said: “Defend the position. Engage the... hostiles.” “Understood. Engaging. Matista out.” As vox operator cut the connection, Matista turned and yelled: “Ok lads, they didn’t take the hint from the russes, so its lascannon time. Fire at will!”. He heard the other two sergeants of the second platoon repeat orders, and corporals declaring targets for lascannons and fireteams.

Turning to look again at the.. attackers, Matista hoped against hope they would retire. But no. They truly were the Emperor’s Astartes. Warning shots fired by the armored section, aimed in front of the purple and yellow warriors, had actually hit the Astartes, as they had not even slowed down when captain Huurika had requested a parley over the vox.

At least half the Astartes team was down, Matista reckoned. Others were... jumping, or flying, with the overlarge backpacks they had, landing in the ruined basilica a hundred meters in front of the guard’s position, taking some cover amid the fallen masonry. Lascannons cracked with blue flashes. Only the forward element of the combined squad had effective range for their lasguns, but fear made men eager to shoot anyway. More of the marines dropped down, or turned back to ruins, assisting more grieviously wounded brothers.

They will not reach us, the sergeant slowly realized. Only an ominous black armored figure was still standing. Matista switched on his short range voxbead. “We ARE idola TRIBUS, the HERETIC will be purged...” the rant continued. Shivering, he switched the bead off. What are we doing, fulfilling the herectic’s job, shooting at the Marines? And where the hell was leftenant Woikas? Officers never around when you really need them, Throne! Nevertheless, orders are orders. “Recharge! They will not move the guard!” Matista yelled, moving up to a rubble pile to get a better view of the combined squad.

The chaplain in his black armor was ripped apart as the next lascannon discharged and hit him squarely in the chest.

They will reach us

Leftenant Chaasine was running. He had been talking to the ensign Roipas of the 426th Tank, the leader of the section now supporting first company, when the coin dropped. Behind him his command squad also jogged and sweated, bearing the flamers. Throne! I have to see what is incoming.... up there! Chaasine climbed fast, seeking footholds from the stark grey granite of a small hillock between the Leman Russes and his combined platoon’s fire positions. He got up on the highest ledge, and looked west, to the left end of the ruin field. Needing no magnoculars, he saw the purple dreadnoughts moving forward, followed by a Rhino, dashing through a large, muddy impact crater.

The first platoon fired, lascannons silhouetted momentarily by their blue discharge. Oikan must be commanding, or Wejkovich. And that must be Farouk with his plasma gun, Chaasine realized when a blinding orange bolt shot against a dreadnought. The rhino had been much slowed by the mud, and its driver had decided to discharge smoke, the greyish cloud half obscuring the armored carrier. First platoon’s heavy volley had been aimed at the hulking walkers instead, but smoke or no smoke, the lascannons had failed to find weak spots in their armor. At least the plasma shot made one of the ancient brothers stagger, its menacing assault cannon jerking with badly syncronised barrel movements.

The flamers are of no use... taking a look over his shoulder, Chaasine realized that the second platoon would not be able to support first effectively with its lascannons. We are not in the place we should have been, dammit. The deployment was not finished...Throne! A sudden staccato noise made him turn back to the dreadnoughts. One of them fired several short bursts from its assault cannon, the rounds exploding among the first platoon, effortlessly puncturing flak armor of the guardsmen. “Back down! Go!”, the leftenant shouted, gesturing for his vox operator to turn around and descend the hillock.

Half way down, he noticed a second Rhino, speeding in from behind a ruined corner still stading two storeys high. The ruins it had used as a cover separated it from the other Astartes war machines, but it was likewise closing in on the first platoon, the platoon Chaasine was commanding. Should be commanding!

We don’t have enough firepower... they will reach us, they will charge the platoon soon! By now, Chaasine knew enough about the marines and their power armor to know that if his platoon should be hit by a charge of marines, it would go down and go down fast.

Catching his balance, the leftenant slid down the last meters, hitting the sickly green grass running again, desperately trying to reach his platoon.

One hit to stop them

“Frontal attack is beaten back, sir. But I am worried about the first platoon, sir.” Voice of leftenant Woikas, heard from the vox, betrayed none of the misgivings captain Huurika himself felt. “Very good, leftenant. Prepare second platoon to move out, but cautiously. Primary assignment remains covering the right flank, secondary is to support the first. I will assign the Russes to help Chaasine.” Huurika let the training take over, to better focus on the task at hand. Which was not to try to kill Emperor’s Astartes, but to complete the mission. Just so. Complete the mission. “Yes sir!” Woikas acknowledged. “Huurika, out”. The captain handed the headset back to his vox operator.

“I have to get a visual on what happens there”, he said waving his hand towards the left flank. Company command squad started to move forward, led by Huurika, cautiosly approaching the front wall of the emporium’s ruined remains. His standard bearer had the company’s regimental colours still furled. Huurika sighed. Obviously Viitinne can’t decide whether we are gloriously eliminating the imperium’s foes, or making an embarrassing and deadly mistake. I wish I knew.

Sudden whistling noise, rapidly increasing in pitch, made him take cover. Someone yelled “Incoming!” but it was overpowered by a explosion, followed by a wooshing sound and bright yellow flash. Incendiary airburst, Huurika realized. And already zeroed in.

The rockets had detonated over the emporium, but on the right end of the large ruined building. Lucky for us... but all the more reason to hope mecharats got the orders correctly. Aloud Huurika said “That was just warm-up. Let’s move forward, I want to eyeball that launcher, and put our lascannons to good use. Shows them not to drop candles on top of the Haruukians!” Voxman Glistensse smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

A moment later the squad arrived at the large breach, front left corner of the building. A large chunk of the buiding had totally collapsed. Leftenant Woikas had his command squad hiding bit furher away, at the outer edge of the ruins, ready to dash across the trash littered avenue to the still standing tower.

Huurika surveyed the battlefield, gazing to the left, where the first platoon was confronting the marine warmachines, then to the wooded plateau behind the town. He saw a blue flash, or mayby several in quick succession, and thought he heard a report of a lascannon, but could not discern where that fire was directed. A tank, or heavy weapons, hiding in the woods.

Snapping his fingers for the voxman, Huurika said “Get me Ensign Roipas.” He had just gotten the headphones on his head, when the youthful voice of Roipas answered with textbook precision: “Ensign Roipas reporting, 426th Tank, co 3, blue section.” “Ensign, I want you to move out, to support the first platoon at left flank. They will provide close security as drilled.” “Negative, sir. My lead vehicle just received a hit, and is immobilized.” “Throne, go around it!” “Sir, we cannot push past it, the ruins are too substantial. With respect sir, Russes will not turn on a penny, and attaching a tow cables will take time.” “Very well. Do you have a fire lane to provide fire support?” “Sir, the section is battle worthy, and can lay out fire from nine to fourteen. But we can concentrate only twelve to fourteen.”

For a moment Huurika fell silent. Roipas waited. “That has to suffice then. Allocate as much fire as you can to the target group one, which has the dreadnoughts.” “Yes sir!” “Huurika out.” Bloody tanks. Let them go out, they get blown up, keep them close, one hit stops them all. Throne! At least their monster cannons chew up power armor for good.

The ruins echoed with battlecannon shots even before Huurika had handed the headset back to Glistensse.

---

Give up

“Ach, steady now, here they come!”, bellowed comissar Wejkovich.

Leman Russes had thundered several times, sending their huge shot speeding over the first platoon, almost scraping the helmet tops. Impacts had sent up bursts of earth and broken rockcrete, spoiling the paint job of the approaching dreadnoughts, but otherwise leaving them unharmed. Likewise, lascannon shots from both platoons had had little success against the walkers, but the speeding rhino, pulling ahead of the metal monsters, had received several hits, and stopped couching clouds of bluish smoke. From its hatches, Astartes had jumped out bolt pistols firing, combat blades held in expert grip.

“On the left! Target that!” a private hunkering down at the platoons left flank yelled, voice rising in panic. A second Rhino was driving hard towards the guardsmen. Oikan, standing next to the comissar on top of the hill, was sure the carrier would smash itself against the granite. On the last possible moment it slewed around braking hard, slowing down, top hatches popped open, and purple armored marines emerged. An orange flame burst over the hill and unlucky soldiers trying to hide behind boulders, hot air swooshing over Oikan’s hard-set face.

Bolter shots hit the platoon from right and left, easily puncturing flak armor if its wearer was stupid or slow enought not to take cover in time. Oikan crouched down and sent an answering shot from his own bolt pistol, aiming for the flamer operator. We are badly suppressed, and they will charge us... “Get back! Alfa squad, covering fire!” sergeant Ulvinne shouted next to him, scrambling down the slope, trying to keep left flank of their position in fight. Oikan turned and sprinted towards the marines from the destroyed rhino, already among guardsmen holding platoon’s right flank.

Comissar Wejkovich was there already, his power sword rising and falling in expert parries. Oikan saw the attackers up close first time. These are not the chaos madmen... no, they really are imperials, Oikan thought, but a combat blade held in purple gauntlet forced him to concentrate on his own swordwork.

Several guardsmen were already down, a lascannon was overturned. The marines pushed up the hill, rollling up the platoons position. They were not frenzied berserkers, but perfomed their assault with consumnate skill. Oikan parried again and again, his synthoarm lending him strenght to push back against geneseed enhanced muscles of the marines.

A private sprang up behind a rock, seeing opening, stabbed a marine whose cut OIkan had just parried. The bayonet scraped ceramite armor, then broke. The marine slapped guardman’s almost useless lasgun with his bolt pistol, sending it clattering down the slope, and with the same move lined up a shot. But Oikan saw the aim move from a killing chest shot to a wounding one. Bolt pistol barked, the shot crushed private’s pauldron, goring open the shoulder but not even severing the arm. They are not finishing us!

A parry, Oikan drawing up his own bolt pistol, then... hesitating. A combat blade rose up, but did not strike again. Red eye lenses focused on Oikan’s face, and slightly metallic voice demanded calmly but powerfully “Give up your senseless fight, sergeant of the guard!” Oikan lowered his powersword, disconnected it, and gave the order: “First platoon, cease fire. We surrender.”

---

Inner storm

“...permission to eng... ...stile MRL?” “Huurika to Mecharats, engage, I repeat, engage”, captain Huurika ordered, keeping his voice calm and professional. Headphones went silent, then filled with thrumming noice. Huurika waved his hand but Glistensse had noticed disturbance from his instruments, and tuned the comm again. “...is not... so do we... gage anyway, sir?”, the fragmentary voice of the mecharats section leader was barely audible. “Huurika to Mecharats. Engage the hostiles!” “Yes sir, mecharats engaging!” came the reponse at once, loud and clear. “Huurika out.” This vox messiness is giving me a headache. We really need to set up that power relay somewhere. With a sigh, Huurika told the vox operator: “Get me ensign Roipas”. Before the connection was made, the headset beeped with incoming call, Glistensse quickly saying “Its sergeant Roihenne, sir, he is inbound now!”

“Huurika here”. Vox thrummed again, but not even that unearhtly disturbance could blanket out meaty voice of sergeant Roihenne. “Sir, ETA 1 minute. Targets?” “Walkers. Those dreadnoughts.” said Huurika at once. “Listen, sergeant, it appears the hostiles... may be misdirected imperials.” “Sir?”, Roihenne’s voice was loaded full of so-what-if-it-shoots-you-shoot-back -attitude. “Sergeant, if you confirm that visually, you need to disengage, is that clear?” “Sir... yes sir. Roihenne out.” Connection ended with a click.

Huurika rose up, having crouched in cover behind a ruined roof arch with his voxman. “Leftenant Woikas!” the captain shouted, and Woikas left his command squad, picked carefully his way back to the main bulk of the ruined emporium, keeping low and in cover. “Yes sir?” asked the leftenant when close enough, kneeling down in cover, setting his boltgun’s stock down on ash covered ground.

“Woikas, get the second platoon to move out slowly, in firing line. Try to cover that ruin”, said Huurika indicating a ruined building some three hundered meters away from his ops map, “with the right end of the line, and keep the left end here. Then, assuming first platoon holds up, you will proceed to the target tower and take the measurements.” The captain searched the leftenant’s eyes for... understanding, or doubt? He only found the hard professional edge. Woikas would follow orders as long as they made sense, not lose his focus wondering the purpose of it all. “Yes sir, will do!” said Woikas briskly, saluted, and turned to move back to his squad, bolgun held at ready.

A series of distant explosions made themselves heard over the ding of the battle closer at had. Vox operator Glistensse reported “Mecharats have hit the hostile MRL. Sir, they report it is not a chaos one.” Then he fiddled again with his tuning controls, a brief look of pain on his face. “Lost the rest of the message... wait. Now... “ his face eased up. “They report again, hostile tank is shooting... one of the sentinels is down. Orders, sir?” “Tell him to keep in cover, and to keep that launcher occupied!” snapped Huurika. “Then try to reach those hostiles again on imperial frequencies.” We have to get this stopped.... they are not chaos spawn, and we are not heretics. And damn the colonel for leaving us in this mess.

Leman Russes shot again, one hitting hidden hostiles on the wooded ridge, the other impacts almost on top of the first platoon’s position, the booming reports of large caliber cannons like a manifestation of Captain Huurika’s inner storm.

---

Its not down

“Touchdown in fifteen. Move it!”, said the WO, his voice almost a yell in intercom. “Roger, will go!” shouted Sergeant Roihenne back, pushed the headset of Valkyria’s troop compartment back in its locker, slamming the small metal door. Turning to face his platoon, he held himself in place with one large hand gripping the overhead rail, shouting “Go go go!”, while the valk under them dropped like a stone. Back ramp was opening, assigned troopers sprang to sliding side doors, pushing them open. Dust and small debris billowed up from the ground as the gunship’s vertical takeoff engines braked its descend.

Veterans jumped off the aircraft, which hung couple of moments suspended a meter above ground, engines screaming. Roihenne was last out, the valk already starting to rise when he jumped, landed on both legs, his “procured” drop troop boots absorbing the impact. “Lads, dreadnoughts, closer one first!” yelled Roihenne and moved to the point, his own plasma pistol activated, specialists following, while rest of the squad spread out under the shadow of the rising valkyrie.

The meltagunners took aim, ready to fire at once, having primed their weapons onboard against the regulations. “Ready!” “Ready!”, sounded the specialists, Hoijonne, the lead one, also shouted “Ready”. Standing right behind Hoijonne, Roihenne gave the order “Fire!”, just when Hoijonne raised his voice to shout “Wait! That is imperial dread!”

Melta’s fired, first two then, after a second’s hesitation, Hoijonne fired also. Roihenne’s plasma pistol also discharged, but his aim was shaken. Turning to the specialist, almost ready to beat the trooper back in line, he shouted angrily “Hoijonne, I gave the target!” “But sarge, that is not a chaos dread! On Vistubalix IV, I cooked one real close up, remember sarge?” “These are hostiles, specialist! You obey me when we are engaged...”

The valkyrie overhead opended fire, its pods sending a volley of white tipped rockets to impact on the dreadnoughts, while its multilaser’s rhytmical dry cracks on full auto sounded like a large beast having a bad case of coughing.

“Sarge, its not down! Its moving to engage...” yelled a veteran. The purple dreadnought was stricken, but not disabled. It loomed through the smoke thrown up by rocket impacts, having lost its assault cannon arm to melta hits, and much of its paintwork to the rockets, but its close combat weapon still had the powered bluish aura, and its legs were pumping hard, bringing it closer and closer... to a charge range.

“Take cover! Meltas ready!” Roihenne shouted, letting go of Hoijonne’s flak vest, the specialist dropping down and regaining his feet. Sergeant’s plasma weapon was still recycling, and he knew the melta would also be still cooling. Ah gak we need to... A crack, then two more, from the left. Lascannons! His eyes had registered the blue flashes, from the left, on top of the wooded plateau. Impacts were almost inaudible, but the valkyerie’s engine sound changed, rising to a high pitched whine, ending in an explosion. Oh by the emperor’s hairy ass, not again... Looking up, Roihenne saw one of the valk’s engines pushing out thick black smoke, the other sounding strained. The tailboom also looked wrong... stabilizers shot to hell. Its coming down, Roihenne realized.

“Run run!” someone shouted, and the victor squad scattered to avoid the falling aircraft.

The into s awesome, nice character elaboration too.