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Need to break OOC?

It is the dawning of the 41st Millenium. The Forge World of Alustdor is preparing for war. The king has ordered the forces of the Imperial Guard to defend the vital planet from the forces of Chaos Undivided. The volcanic ash-wastes have been occupied, the walls have been garrisoned. Every soldier has been armed and trained. The regiments of Alustdor are prepared to fight to the last.

The 13th regiment specializes in urban combat. They have an extraordinary affinity with flamer and melta weaponry, and have been known to arm entire squadrons with specialized flamer weapons. They boast the largest group of Hellhounds in the Alustdor army.

Atris was in the war room of the bastion, sat next to Tarkus. A green map flickered, floating above the steel table.

"Cerberus, you are going to be deployed on the eastern ridge."

The map enlarged, zooming in on a cliff.

"Once there, you will destroy their comms relay, leaving them aimless."

"It shall be done, my lord."

Her fist pounded her Carapace Armour chestplate. She took hold of a Meltagun and headed to the aircraft hangar. Her long hair flowed down her shoulders. The sergeant began ordering her squadron into their Vendetta. She took a seat in the aircraft, and briefed Cerberus Squadron.

awd

Atris walked out of the Vendetta to wish Tarkus luck.

"Good luck, sergeant. May the Emperor protect you."

He gave her a small salute. The engines of the Vendetta began to scream as take off prep sequences began. Atris scrambled back in. The task ahead was going to require her utmost determination.

The pilots flicked switches and pulled switches. The gunship began to rise, and shot out like a comet, the guardsmen inside being pushed into the cracked leather seats.

"We have liftoff, Cerberus. Approaching destination at 138 miles per hour and rising. Insertion predicted in 13 minutes."

The sergeant looked upon the gleaming spires of the manufactorums through the vision ports, the brass gleaming in the sunlight.

"Soldiers, we are fighting for our families, our friends and our leaders. Be prepared. If we die, we do not die in vain. You must be prepared to lay down your life for this, or we're all dead."

The troops nodded. They began to pray.

"160 miles per hour and rising. Insertion predicted in 10 minutes."

The surface of Forge world Alustdor was being churned under the spiked treads of an armoured column. Heretics, mutants and other unholy warp scum rode their vehicals across the wasteland towards the hab blocks- a rich resource of prey to sacrifice and enslave. Tanks rumbled to full speed, their hulls adorned with skulls and tanned skin.

The main body consisted of Traitor guard, only known as the Great Horde which had already destroyed a Hive planet in the system. Refugees told horror stories of their brutal campaign across their home forcing them to flee in merchant ships. Now they threatened a forge world, an asset holding too high a value be thrown away like Hive Astrata. Their death machines would be halted. An invisible line had already been drawn by high command. A line in sand that ran along the middle of Steeler's Wasteland. A battlefield that would prevent the fighting from damaging the factory lines that kept whole armies supplied throughout the Imperium.

+++++++++++++++

Black eyes looked to the sky, long tounges whipping about salivating dried lips and curved fangs. A whislte could be heard but the offending object not seen. A black puff of smoke filled the air above them. Then came the roar of the explosion.

Within a split second the air was filled with molten copper, having been ejected from the airburst bomb dropped from high above. More followed and soon the sky was filled explosions followed by a molten rain that sped out of their shells. Infantry riding ontop of the tanks were shredded, their remains dribbling down the steel mounts. The molten shrapnel known as "skeets" punched through the armour destroying engines and knocking out crews.

The whole advance had been halted. The grunts too scared to come out of hiding underneath the tanks. More shells bursted overhead, shattering the baked ground of the desert. The next down pour was made of men. hardened troops that deployed from the sky. Dropships began opening their sidedoors and depositing an even deadlier payload.

Captain Aubrey was the first to step off. Along with Sabre One and Two. The ships screamed off providing cover fire with their multi-lasers as they left. They had established a beachhead of sorts, a Command point already being set up while the infantry advanced into the open. Luckily most of the enemy armour had been decommisioned leaving Aubrey's troops to mop up the cowering survivors.

"Destination within 2 miles. Slowing."

The Vendetta began to slow down. The soldiers placed on their Grav-Chutes and prepped their Meltaguns. They were clad in Carapace Armour, the dull black and grey providing the perfect camoflague in the ash wastes.

"Descending. Prepare for Insertion. May the Emperor be with you."

The squadron leaped and began to fall to the earth. Atris started to bellow orders.

"On me, soldiers! Show me what you're made of!"

The guardsmen landed softly on the ground. A group of Cultists had gathered about the beacon, setting up emplacements.

"Fire on my target!"

wd

As the cultists began to let their weaponry loose, the soldiers began to advance. 2 were shot down almost immediately, caught by a heavy bolter. They had not died in vain, as moments afterwards the crew were torn to shreds by a frag grenade.

"CHARGE!"

Each soldier brandished an ornamental blade, each one unique. They leaped over the barricades that they were taking cover in, melta charges vaporizing cultists and weaponry. The cultists were swept away with relative ease, but a single figure remained. It was clad in thick armour, laced with heretical icons. It was over 7 feet tall.

"CHAOS MARINE! FIRE ALL WEAPONS!"

The heated beams blasted against the thick armour, but to no avail. The marine tore at the guardsmen with his chainsword, killing one in a hail of gore and bone.

"STAND AND FIRE!"

Atris charged at him with her ornate sabre, the surface laced with neuroshredder wires. Her blade began to cut into the armour of the marine, who in return began slashing at her with the whirring teeth of his blade. They were locked in a duel of equal sides, the sergeant's agility making up for her lack of strength compared to the traitor Astartes. The guardsmen began to move forwards with their melta weapons to destroy the messager beacon.

eef

Atris found herself being given no quarter. However, if there was one thing she learned in her troubled youth it was to fight dirty.

She took one final dive before taking a leap to the right. The marine swung again, but the sergeant had jumped back to the left as quickly as she had left. She flipped backwards as the sundering chainsword lunged towards her again, whirring inches from her previous position. She took one final dodge to the left of the marine before stabbing. The marine collapsed in pain, the neuroshredder wires destroying every nerve in his leg. Atris took out her meltagun. The marine barked.

"NO! I CANNOT FALL TO YOU!"

Her face was unflinching. She discharged the entirety of her remaining melta cartridge into the traitor's face. Shrieks of pain were quickly silenced. The air was filled with the scent of burning flesh. All that remained of his face was a black char.

Cerberus Squadron quickly incapacitated the beacon.

"Knight of Mars, this is Sergeant Atris. The beacon has been destroyed. Requesting immediate evac."

The Vendetta Gunship came down onto the ash plain.

ef

Cerberus Squadron were mounted in the Vendetta Gunship. The mission was successful, but they had lost 3 brothers-in-arms during it. They prayed for them.

"We are approaching HQ, I repeat, we are on approach to HQ. Slowing down."

The soldiers' heads rose. Atris knew each fighter in her command personally; each warrior who had died scarred her already bloodied memory. This war had claimed most of her original squad, leaving new inexperienced children in their place. Many had come from the noble families, being placed in the most venerable squadrons for their bloodline, not for quality. Atris despised them.

"HQ within 1.5 miles. Initiating docking procedures."

A great roar filled the air. Smoke rose from behind them as one of the few sanctuaries was obliterated by a salvo of Earthshaker shells. All that the Sergeant had ever known was war.

"Docking now. Prepare to exit."

The remenants of Cerberus Squadron filtered out of the aircraft. Tarkus and his squad had already returned in the Vulture. The two squads began to merge in conversation, boasting about their kills and talking about their hopes and dreams.

ef

I'll be damned if I let them call me a coward Sam thought as he looked at the contraption he was meant to be riding down in.
"Arent these things deadly to mortals?" He asked Brother Nero, the Companies best Techmarine.
"Usually, but the Old Man had me make this one special for ya. You'll be fine, I promise." Nero replied.
"I'll miss you blonde bastards, where is he by the way?" Sam asked, referring to his friend Dante.
"He is the Chapter Master of the Blood Angels, he has duties besides you." Nero said with a chuckle.
"NERO!" A voice boomed through the Drop Pod bay.
"gak." Nero said just in time for a golden armored goliath to burst into the room and jump down to the bay floor.
"You think my duties take precedence over the man that has saved my life more than once?" Dante asked.
"Oh let him be, now as for my goodbye, I'm expecting one hell of a fruit basket." Sam said.
"I'll put it in with the Administratum. Now get the hell down there, we have to get to Baal." Dante said, even through the Death Mask Sam could see the sad smile he wore.
"No chick-flick moments bro." Sam said and put out a hand. Dante took it and gave a slight squeeze. Sam tried to avoid wincing.
"Get out of here you ass." Dante said with a laugh and picked Sam up, placing him in the Pod.
"I'll kill for you buddy." Sam said and flashed Exodus.
"You damn well better." Dante said and slammed the activation button. Sam could feel his body straining against the G-Forces, but he survived well enough. He stood, towering over the rest as per usual, in an HQ. Proud banners displaying the heraldry of the Iron Serpents were waving everywhere. He made for the High Command building.

Lynessa was brought here under a new contract she was to dig in and provide a steady dropzone for the main force to come in. Her heavy weapon teams where spread out in a steady line she had her command squad also spread out providing scouting and some reports.
She was walking through the tents as a slaaneshi cultist began running up to her screaming and almost on all fours trying to attack her. With a simple shot from her bolt pistol his head exploded and she walked past his decapitated body. She arrived at the las cannon position they had been deployed in a tower to make use of their long range. She was awaiting some real orders while waiting for either an attack on the still very undefended camp or orders to attack some refinery or sacrifice some useless civilians.
She looked towards the desolate wasteland when she saw a small column approaching, it looked like a recon group consisting out of 3 maybe 4 salamanders. She targeted the leading 2 and had the lascannons snipe them. 1 of them exploded and the other one got derailed and slammed into another salamander. The last one was eaten up by autocannon fire.
She was still worried about the current situation along with the damned fact that those nurgle cultists kept sacrificing their slaves which gave of such a horrendous odor.
She walked towards her tent preparing a sacrifice for tzeentch so she could guide her men through the coming conflict on her home soil.
She dragged out a male sacrifice. He looked around 35 years old but what did it matter.
She began drawing a mark of tzeentch on his belly. Multicolored fires began springing up everywhere as his body was being consumed by the flames she began chanting a ancient song in honor of tzeentch so that his blessing would come upon her.
In the sandbags the banner of tzeentch began lighting up and through the eye a bolt of change hit another one of the recon parties to the south consuming a salamander.

buil

Things had taken a turn for the worse. The advance party of armor had been stopped, but it had delayed the loyalists long enough. Droppods and troop transports had already begun disgorging thousands of troops. The Imperialist forces were forced to dig in or be overwhelmed.

Captain Aubrey was confident in his men though. They were like steel forged from the production lines of their homeworld. Hardened by the extreme weather, brutalised by gangs then all they needed was a lasgun and some flak armour. Still they had been running live fire drills and were more than satisfactory with the bayonet. Yes, they were fresh to modern war, but fighting mutants and criminal warlords had given them a taste.

He wheezed a little as he climbed the hard rock, wanting to get a better overview of his defences and the enemy. In no way was he unfit, he had trained ruthlessly conditioning himself, but his damn lung still liked to give him trouble. The hot desert sun wasn't helping either, making the respirator feel like it was hot wax against his face. He had kept his trench coat, though his men wore light tanned uniforms, sleeves rolled up and helmets discarded for caps and long brims.

He had reached the lip of the embankment. His own "line in the sand" per se was going ahead nicely. Even though the hard baked surface offfered resistence to their picks and entrenching tools. So far a number of slit trenches ran from his far left all the way into the horizon on his right. His company, sabre two held the left flank while sabre one and a number of support units covered the rest of the line. Else where their special forces were causing havoc amongst the enemy, disabling the traitors in any way possible.

Mortars hidden in the embankment behind him were already unleashing hell into the massed rally point of the foul horde. His command point was also hidden behind the embankment, camo nets and the dry local foliage concealing it. A number of dug outs were cut into the side, giving the men from the trenches someplace cool to rest and live away from the relentless sun. In front and on top of the embankment lay a number of direct fire weapons, a mix of 90mm "Bangers" cannons for light vehicals, lascannons and the heavy 140mm "Lobbers" for the heavy stuff. Earthshaker artillery and other assortments lined the along the bleak landsacpe, their large barrels a distinct giveaway.

Most of their arms were customary due to their availabilty of choice on a forge world. Even their armour was significantly lighter and stronger than most variants, known as "Dragon Skin". The tech-priests on this world were rather lenient in their approach to creating new technology and the Guard was thankful for it.

Even for all their efforts Aubrey peered with anxiety towards the enemy. Dark clouds rolled towards him, as if concealing the scum below. He knew very little of the traitor guard, only that they were unfit to live in the mighty Imperium. What motivated them to commit such heretical acts of brutality? He had heard rumors that they lived to serve darks gods of disorder, but little information was given to him by his superiors. Either way they would brave the oncoming storm for the Emporer and strike back at their foes like a mighty serpeant.

Danielle approached the camp, she looked out for sentries, and sneaked past the sleeping man on guard. "Pathetic." She murmured as she walked easily into the camp. The men inside were busy moving around, and took no notice of a similar soldier, even if she was unfamiliar. "How easy it would be to infiltrate this camp and destroy it. Why must I deal with such fools." She strode straight up to the command area, where she was finally challenged by a guardsman standing by. "Stop there please, what business do you have with our commanders?" The man asked. "I have an urgent message, I must deliver it immediately." The man backed off, and although Danielle was being honest, she thought how gullible he was. What if she had been an assassin? She made her way into the command bunker where she found the commissar standing. "Finally, someone resolute." she thought. "Commissar, I am sorry, but I must ensure that the commanders are informed of the falling of another regiment, I must meet with them as soon as possible."

Atris saw Tarkus break from the group. She followed suit, entering the small grey room. All that was there was a table, a dirty stained mattress and a broken wardrobe.

She hated nobility. They simply went to war expecting it to be easy, almost like playtime to a toddler. They always had the best equipment, the greatest quarters. They could afford it all. Meanwhile, Atris was completing a mission a day and still had to stay in this dirty hovel.

Voxes were blaring out with reports of the destruction of various vehicles. Nothing new. Atris began to rest.

Captain Aubrey entered the gak stain of an excuse of a room. With his dusty boot he kicked the bed frame rocking it violently. Atris jolted awake and stared violently at him. Without a word he tossed a clipboard onto her lap. On the front page read "top secret". The captain didn't even acknowledge her, pivoting on his heels and exiting from the shack, breathing wheezily through his respirator.

Inside the manifest detailed the oncoming assault and Cerberus was needed once again to insert deep behind enemy lines and identify the enemy. Their numbers, their leaders and their motives were all vital to high command. Aubrey knew she would be pissed, but as long as she was attached to Saber 2 she would follow orders.

Lynessa was worried. She hadn't heard any orders from higher command and her men where stuck sniping some scout vehicles.
She hated this time of day, it was 6 O'clock and that meant it was the time for those rotten slaaneshi cultists to receive their sacrifices. The screams where way too hard to be a actual sacrifice like you did for lord tzeentch.
ATM she was discussing a plan with some high ranking khornate cultist. They where to dispatch a company sized force into the mountains and provide a flank attack on the enemies supply lines.
But ofcourse like always the moment she began talking about using a magic spell to teleport them through or the agility of slaaneshes cultists to traverse the mountains with ease. he began raging over the fact that it wasn't real combat and left the tent with screams of anger and malcontent. She would need to await the arrival of some form of higher command before anything concrete could be planned otherwise they would stick to trying to make the main push.

"Fine! Just don't try and send us to a location with another Astartes traitor!"

The captain turned.

"Chaos Space Marines? Are you serious?"

Atris stood on her feet. She took up her weapons and began walking down the hallway.

"Yep. I just had the pleasure of meeting one today, I don't want to coming into contact of another."

huk

The captain had scurried off to High Command. 3 new soldiers had joined them. Two of them were arrogant arses who had simply joined for fun. Probably nobles. The third was clearly an experienced fighter. He checked and primed his weapon whilst the other two simply chatted about their idiotic lives.

"OK. We have been assigned another mission today."

A hologram rose of an enemy stronghold.

"Under orders from our captain, we are to investigate this building. I suggest insertion here, here and here."

The sergeant pointed at the 3 target areas on the hologram, leaving a single red dot on each.

"We shall be carried in a Vendetta Gunship to the stronghold. As some of you may know, there may well be Chaos Space Marines garrisoning the bastion. Kill them outright. You will each be armed with Flamers to flush out any Cultists. Any questions?"

4 hands rose. Atris first picked one of the new noble brats.

"You wanna go out sometime?"

She immediately skipped to the veteran. One thing she couldn't stand about nobles was the sense of entitlement that surrounded them.

"Why are we taking this mission in a Vendetta? Surely this could be far more easily accomplished with a light ATV to keep a low profile?"

The sergeant hadn't thought of that.

"Thank you for that suggestion. Remember, keep a low profile. If one of us are found, we're all fethed."

aef

aef

Ilya's Hellhound roared up outside the command tent, Ilya coughing and grunting as he sturggled out of one of the hatches, after walking the few muddy setps between his tank and the tent, he poked his head through the entrance,

''Have I got the right place?'

Aubrey looked up from his holomap. The rain pouring in through the open tent flap. In stepped a greasy staff sergeant, his uniform barely fitting his stocky frame, helmet one size too big.
Bloody tankers, thought the captain. He didn't say a word, merely gesturing to the available spot within the O group. All the commanders of the various units supporting the defence of the hab block were gathered here. Many capable and worthy leaders, others he wouldn't trust a lunch box with. They would have to do.
"Gentlemen, we face an innumerable enemy, of unknown capability and strength. Special units are at this very minute trying to confirm our fears. They destroyed Astrata in less than a year. We have been graced by the Emporer's merciful hand granting us time to prepare".
Aubrey sucked in a deep breath, his lungs barely keeping up with his speech. He sounded raspy and metallic, the vox caster inserted in his throat pitching and whining.
"We must make a stand here."
He pointed to the line in the mud map he had prepared.
"Not one of them cross this line. Luckily we only have to hold onto this narrow passage formed by the mountains. All we have to do is hold boys. Take a good look at the maps and briefings handed to you earlier and Emporer's speed to you all."
They began leaving, but the captain singled out the tank commander.
"One moment.... tommorow you and the rest of your tank troop will chase them back down that valley once they are broken...ONLY when they are broken"
The NCO smartly saluted, but before he left the captain once again grasped his shoulder, this time like the snap of a snakes jaw..
"Also if you are ever late again, I won't hesitate to have you shot, dismissed."