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This and Mordian 183 are on the near horizon. I've not written anything since CoF ended, really.
Combo of being ill, and some work deadline peeping at me.

I know how that feels, college deadlines have been kicking me in the teeth lately

Inside the troop hold of the drop ship was cramped; the men of the Mordian 183rd, like so much tinned meat being delivered to the front lines. An intoxicating mix of anxiety and anticipation, fear and bravado riding on sweat pervaded the pressurised cabin. Men checked and rechecked their weapons. Sharpening blades, changing las-packs in the wall-mounted charger, passing sick bags, empty and fouled. The main lighting had moments of doubt, blinking intermittently as turbulence and electronic interference came and passed. And always, the drone of engines, the certain push toward the end of the drop, throbbed like the pulse of a living thing that had consumed them all.

A way off at the far end of the cabin, where the vast doors would soon disgorge them a group of men laughed and smoked. Veterans, Barbary thought, or storm-troopers. He could see one reaching a cigar up to a ship's crewman as he passed. The crewman accepted the offer gratefully, indulged in two deep puffs and passed it on, with thanks, before setting off again on his round. 

Barbary glanced at the assembled cadets of his squad. Delano, their leader noted his glance. She neither smiled nor scowled. Perhaps, he thought she too was watching the squad. Assessing their moods, their behaviours. He turned his attention toward his fellow cadets.

Alenko who was always so calm on the surface seemed less so now. Granted they were plummeting in a tin can toward a certain violent encounter with the Tau but... He couldn't put his finger on it exactly. Maybe it was nothing, maybe he was over-thinking. His own nerves were far from immune to all the stress hormones no doubt coursing through his bloodstream.

Maybe that was all it was but as Barbary watched he became dully aware that Alenko would not meet his eye. Khan on the other hand was staring fixedly at him, almost willing his attention away. Barbary glanced over, expecting to draw a smile, a nod, any change at all. Khan was a graven image of a man. An instrument designed and directed to see into a man. A gaze like an adder, cold blooded and irresistible.

The ship's crewman passed between them on his round of inspection breaking the spell. Barbary shifted nervously dropping his eyes to the floor thanking the emperor most fervently for his small mercies. Maybe Alenko had the right idea. Don't look, don't think. Barbary could feel his nerves rattling and threatening to come undone, he kept his head bowed and locked his hands together in an attitude of prayer. He wasn't entirely sure he was faking. A bead of cold sweat dripped heavily on his left boot, he swore he had felt the impact. Through the leather, through the steel, through the engine vibration and the jostling of his neighbours. He closed his eyes.

Raymond York was asleep on his right, snoring audibly amidst the noise. On his left Hadj muttered under his breath in a language Barbary could not understand, reading from a small hide-bound primer in an unfamiliar script that added a tinge of musky desert spices to the fetid air. Delano's face came unbidden into his mind. She watched, assessed her cadet, neither smiling nor scowling. Barbary raised his head like a salvage crew re-floating a wreck and cursed. He'd picked the wrong day to quit drinking.

That was absolutely brilliant. Really built the tension.
And I love the ideas of how they're all coping.

I need to get the landing and deployment done for you guys, it'll likely be when I'm in a better place later this week.

Hope you don't mind if I re-write that scene from Alenko's perspective Crowe. Some really cool stuff there.

Don't mind at all. Looking forward to it.

In my minds eye Delano, Alenko and Khan are all facing Barbary(Yorke and Hadj) on the other side of the gangway. Suited booted and strapped in. Not necessarily exactly opposite or next to eachother. Theyre just the three faces he has noticed in this scene.

I didn't want to go through the full role call to allow everyone a bit of wiggle room with what was going on for their own character. Even what I said of Alenko could be very easilly all in Barbary's head.

I lover the description for Khan. An adder is quite th accurate analogy, come to think of it. Great work, Crowe.

Looking forward to seeing what you guys do.
A note for the more observant cadets: The only way Yorke would be that relaxed on a flight is if he were on sedatives. Perhaps he's hiding that well, perhaps he isn't.

I don't like how Barbary is so focused on Alenko. Might need to take some drastic action...

I'll probably write something up for Khan. It'll be nice to do something for theveryone cadets again.

I just like throwing in Yorke's usual cat nap so as to include him characterfully without putting too many words in his mouth. Totally forgot (if you'd mentioned before, which I'm sure you have) his anxiety with flying.

Also, thanks for the praise above. I really enjoyed this little piece. Glad you are too. Happy to be greasing the wheels for the return of the Cc workshop to frontline Dakka fiction duty.

. I've also edited the smell of Hadj's book from "sweet dessert spices" (doh!) to the altogether less confusing and more accurately spelled "musky desert spices"

It's a throwaway very early on in Only Heresy, that Gaskell notes Cat cannot stand flying. He complains, and considers it "falling sideways quickly".
I don't self insert, but that's my take on air travel.
Chances are by this point in his career, he self medicates.

And I now want a Hadj centric cookbook.

Alenko stared at the metal floor of the drop ship lost in thought. He was surrounded by his fellow cadets and the fighting men and women of the Mordian 183rd. He should have been comforted by their presence, but as of late he had been unable to shake the thought that one of them knew his secret.

He knew logically that he was safe, there had been no other survivors that he knew of from his home world, and precious few records remained that even mentioned his father at all. But still, everywhere he went he saw Barbary staring at him. As if he knew Alenko's secret and was just waiting for an opportunity to pounce on him. Alenko had been doing his level best to avoid looking at the other cadet, and the few times that he had been able to muster the courage to look up he had found himself unable to meet the other cadet's eyes before dropping them immediately back down to the battered metal floor beneath his feet.

All around him he could hear the muttering of men readying themselves for war. Blades were sharpened, lasguns were checked, double checked, and then checked one more time for good measure. Ammo was distributed along with sick bags. These were all sights and sounds that had been Alenko's constant companions for years, and while they had almost scared him before he realized now that they soothed him. He craved the thunder of war more than ever now, as it was the one place where the constant doubt couldn't get it's claws into him, the one place where he could be at peace, the one place where all of his memories would be suppressed.

He looked up briefly and immediately found himself looking into the eyes of Commissar Delano. Her eyes were calculating as she observed the cadet, and her eyes seemed to bore into his very soul, as if she could see his deepest doubts and fears as well. He immediately dropped his gaze again and leaned back into his seat, pretending to catch some sleep before the landing. Alenko just hoped that the war against the Tau would eliminate his doubts once and for all

Khan stared at Barbary, watching the man peer at every person around him. It was no surprise to Gaelos when the hot head's eyes fell on Alenko. Khan fully well knew that Barbary had a grim fascination with Alenko, or more accurately, his past. Then, Barbary's eyes swutch over to Khan himself. It was if he was asking him what he wanted, but Khan gave no reaction in return. Instead, he simply stared back, daring him to look away.

The contest of stares continued on for a moment longer until someone blocked his view, and by the time the man passed Barbary was already looking away. Good. Khan thought, if only the Tau would do the same. The marines certainly didn't. Khan allowed himself a grim smile, but resisted the urge to touch the scar on his face. Khan glanced over at the sleeping form of Commisar Yorke, but realized there was more to it than a sleeping man. His breaths were too shallow for him to be asleep, and one eye was briefly open for a moment, sweeping over the cadets before closing shut once more.

Clever. Khan conceded, and returned his gaze to Barbary, resigning the commisar to his false nap, an attempt to appear wholly relaxed for the sake of the cadets.

enjoyed both of these. Nice to see our now quite familiar cadets growing and getting a little more depth of character.

I've another little Hadj number brewing (sorry BC it's not a cookbook) it's a little further down the line. I'm imagining they're on a train from the space port to the front, and the cadets are schmoozing in the officers carriage.
Would that make sense with any of what you have in mind? what kind of planet are we going to? What climate, population, history? Can I just go ahead and make anything up or do you already have an idea in mind?

Aye, great stuff guys.
And the only thing I had mapped out was the battlefield, pretty dense forest, quite European feel to it, pine trees, lots of areas the Tau can use their blasted stealth suits in. How they'd got so close to civilisation before the 183 was called in. I'm happy for you to make up anything you wish.

I have a short section for Cat that would be a fourth view and a small recap of getting to the shuttle, I've just been quite slow getting it finished.

Yorke rested his head against the cold padding of the transport's seat, the material never fully warming, and chilling his neck where his recently cropped hair didn't cover it.
He napped fitfully, in and out of consciousness, the sedatives he had taken were doing their job. Despite the stress, he hadn't allowed himself to take a full dose, aware that the cadets and regiment needed him to be alert.

The past week had been tough, despite the attempts by both commissars to unite the cadets, he had not noticed any vast improvement in their temperaments towards one another. Civility was becoming more commonplace, but even through his half-conscious daze, he could see that several were eying each other in the transport. The same trio that had been circling one another like cats all week, he noted tiredly.
"High spirits" Delano had offered in explanation, preferring to believe cabin fever than any unrest amongst the group. Ray hoped she was right, and getting back out into the thick of things would ease the tensions. The group exercises had become smoother over the past week, which was a blessing.

He felt the engines lurch to slow the descent, and felt slight relief that the hellish trip was coming to an end. At times like this he missed the older members of the regiment now long gone. Able to laugh and distract one another, rather than this thick nervous tension. Realising that he himself could now be considered old, he half smiled. You always look up to someone older, wiser, thinking they know better. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up straighter, he realised he was running out of options himself, and certainly didn't fit the bill.

As the speakers chimed for all aboard to fasten themselves into seats for landing, he silently prayed that the first real combat test together would end well.

I get genuinely excited every time somebody puts a new piece up for the commissar cadets. I give a fella a lift to work and even he has been taking an interest!

So thanks BC, and everyone, I'm really enjoying this squad.

Just polishing a little bit to slot in before we hit the front lines. A bit of a Hadj-worthy boost for the lads before the combat really begins.
Can't wait to write up the battle scenes.

"Lo, unto the very walls of the enemy's last stronghold came the host of Al-Shabath, arrayed in blood and fury. Though swords were notched, shields wrent, shoes and bodies in tatters, yet they had pursued their quarry, relentless and without mercy; their hearts unflinching, an unquenchable fire astir in their very souls.

He that fled as a fox to den did cower within and plot his art. Then came he forth upon the rampart, in mockery and jeering.
"Unwise art thou to come here thus, in rags and filth, thy strength all spent. We succour not the beggar here nor do we suffer fools to enter these mighty gates."
He laughed and drew unto the walls his bristling hoard, deeming thus to break their spirit and quench the fire about him laid.

Then did Al-Shabath ride forth before the line, the riven standard once more unfurling. Tho grievously hurt by blade and flame its sacred glory none could mar. Aloft once more the icon raised a battle cry from forth the heart-of-fire in every man.

On they came the righteous host with fire and blade and armoured fist. Through winds of barbs and falling flame they dauntless charged their lives not sparing. No wall could stay nor gate withstand the fury of their onslaught. No plea was heard from cowering cur nor quarter gave, save only death.

And a quaking felt the enemy, from the roots of his walls to the very pinnacle of his dire fastness. He shaken stood with heart unmanned and quailed before the wrath of...

Hadj paused mid-translation. There was no word in high gothic that he knew to convey the full sense and meaning of the original Tallarn noun. Holy host... The alliteration was all wrong, too trite not nearly weighty enough. Assembled Avengers... Well certainly the host of Al-Shabath were avenging many foul evils but theirs was not some petty tribal revenge but a joint quest, a unification of tribes a league of... Justice? Hadj closed his book.

Resurfacing from the ancient past and desert lands of his royal ancestors the prince of Tallarn found himself back on the train, an alien in a foreign land. The throbbing industrial complex surrounding the spaceport had been left far behind. Now residential city blocks came flashing by in unending procession, a sprawling jungle of urban chaos. High-rise towers waded through a clinging morass of displaced humanity. Tents and shanty towns littered the once ordered suburbs as the rural populace poured into the city for refuge from the encroaching Tau invaders. Everywhere he looked he saw wanderers, tent dwellers, a desert tribe in every storm drain, seeking only water.

He turned to look at the remedy for this dire need. The officers' carriage was clean and richly appointed. Clean air and a bar for refreshment. The assembled officers of the Mordian 183rd bedecked in all their finery. Bright cloth, bullion fringed epaulettes, braided fourragères, piped lapels and blood-stripes; offset by the darker shades of his fellow cadets in their Commissariat black and grey. All wore elegant peaked caps, polished leather and burnished gold. A fool might take them for nought but an ostentation of peacocks he thought, but Hadj was no fool.

He knew these men and women, first by reputation, then by shared experience and finally by faith in arms. These were warriors, steel eyed and dour. Theirs was not an empty pride but one of fierce unflinching dedication to excellence, to order and to the peerless reputation of the regiment.

The Mordian Iron Guard, he thought. Were not his royal forefathers in their finest silk robes and  jewels every bit as resplendent as these? Were not their eyes as steely and hearts as set? Did not their pride also burn with the fire of a thousand stars?

To be counted amongst these warriors, to share pride in their name... Yes. For the first time, in many many years, Hadj felt that he had come home.

Frant shuffled past a rotund lieutenant with a massive holstered pistol riding on his hip and slipped into the seat opposite. He was a slim, straight laced sort who dressed neatly and kept himself to himself.  He was the sort to lead by example and far as Hadj had seen, Frant was as dedicated and honest as they came. He poured two glasses of steaming tea and passed one across the table, which Hadj accepted with a heartfelt if unintelligible Tallarn salutation.

Frant noted the small leather-bound volume resting before Hadj upon an oiled damask kerchief.
"What do you read, comrade?" he offered by way of conversation.

Hadj, not one for small-talk, took a sip of his tea and then, standing, opened the book at the place he had left off. After a brief pause he began, translating as he read aloud.

"On they came the righteous host with fire and blade and armoured fist. Through winds of barbs and falling flame they dauntless charged their lives not sparing. No wall could stay nor gate withstand the fury of their onslaught. No plea was heard from cowering cur nor quarter gave save only death.

"And a quaking felt the enemy, from the roots of walls to the very pinnacle of his dire fastness. He shaken stood with heart unmanned and quailed before wrath of the Imperium."

During the short time that Hadj had been reading a hush had fallen as conversations gave way to silent interest. Hadj sat down.

Frant raised a glass. "To the wrath of the Imperium!" he announced.

The cheer went up from all assembled, loud and with feeling.
"The wrath of the Imperium!"
"The wrath of the Imperium!"
"Huzzah!"

Bloody hell, fella. That's some solid writing right there! Very cool indeed, and a real push to get writing again.

Thank you for giving Frant a little airtime. It makes sense that he would be curious about Hadj, as he's the driver for the jeep that Hadj rides in the back of.
I've not done his bio yet, he's a very earnest young man that is basically Schola to the core, and doesn't really understand any flexibility. Not puritanical as much as unseasoned.

I'm going to try and get the setup for the Tau battle ready. Have scrapped what's done so far, as it was very dull, and restarted using the mood set by the journey pieces.
If anyone would like to write for a character that hasn't had their author post after initial creation (apart from Avatar 720) do feel free. I think the grace period on that has lapsed and we're at an open writing point.

Not to start one present before unwrapping this one, but the next battle is Chaos marines backed by Knights. Nobody died, but rather embarrassingly the squad broke (in half) because of a series of unfortunate terrain and figure placements.

Rising through the grey film of sedatives and cold morning air, Commissar Yorke straightened his back and stared across the small clearing afforded to the regiment.
Within the space of two or three hundred yards, there was only dense forest and undergrowth, the refuge from which so many civilians had fled, upon the realisation that it was rife with Tau infantry. The numbers uncertain, Yorke realised it could either be an extermination of xeno, or a tarpit for his family.
Chewing a stick of lho gum, he asked aloud without turning his head to the most eagle eyed cadet in the vicinity, "Gaelos, what do you see?"
"I.. Keep thinking that I see shapes, sir. On the perimeter but nothing so firm I could tell you numbers." the cadet replied.
"Thinking, Kharn?" Yorke turned his head at last.
"No, I'm certain I see them."
"Good, be sure in yourself, Cadet. You cannot expect anyone else to be if you aren't." the voice from behind spoke calmly, Delano stepped to join them.
Yorke turned his gaze back to the trees, in a bid to avoid rolling his eyes at the acute lampshading of the lesson he was attempting.

The drawn-faced and tired cadets looked calm, but Yorke noticed several kept casting their eyes back to where usually there would be a line of artillery. This time it was not afforded to them, as firing into such dense cover, it would be a gamble as to who was slain. More noticeable by their absence were the non-Mordian scouting squads and snipers that had joined the 183rd in recent years. They had already vanished to the perimeters of the forest, forming a net to catch any fleeing xeno and offer cover to any Mordian infantry who found themselves pushed out.
It felt distinctly thin on the ground compared to the recent and unsuccessful deployment. The slight air of concern was growing and the two commissars exchanged a glance, realising it could soon build to a full swell of apprehension and pessimism.

"Cadets," Delano broke the silence, her voice level but warm, "you have nothing to fear, as today we face true cowards. Hiding like animals in the woods, and hoping that we do not disturb their burrows. We will drive them into their own nests and wipe their filth from this planet. The Emperor and his people earned this land, and it is our right to reclaim it." her eyes glittered with purpose as they swept across the group.
Delano knew when to scream, when to roar, and in this case, how to build a fire.

Yorke nodded as determined smiles slowly creased across the cadets' faces, "Our first duty is to those around us. The apprehension as you stepped into this cold field may yet lurk in the minds of our comrades. It is as much tote duty to chase away those fears as it is to drive the enemy from our land," he gestured to the woods, "pray with them, and if you cannot be seen, sing, chant, let them know we are here with them, and so is the light of our Emperor!" He paused, "But as His eternal is not a literal light, each of you have been afforded a pair of heat-vision goggles."

Hadj stepped to the line of recruits and began handing out the the equipment, "Our enemy has a lower body temperature than a healthy human, and will read differently. Do not rely heavily upon them, as your own senses are keener and ought not be underestimated."
Eying the goggles with curiosity and good humour, the cadets in turn removed their hats briefly to fit them.

"There will be no claxon or countdown," murmured Delano, "use your time wisely, and keep your eyes on the green squad. They lead." she pointed to a group of Mordians who were prowling the front line, listening to reports from the scouts.

I've left it open to you guys to do any pre-game prep or just jump in. Likewise I haven't dictated the tau loadout. You guys won by a considerable mile, so if you want to throw in a few twists or big guns that's also fun.

I'm guessing either Yorke didn't take the supply keys back from Hadj, or the commissars deemed him least likely to use the goggles for stupid reasons.

I might try and get up a bit tomorrow if I can.

I'm really hoping there might be some Kroot in them thar woods. You know who I'm lookin' at.

I was planning on one try to get really friendly with Gaelos, and in an attack involving woodlands, a Tau commander with Kroot at his disposal would be really fething stupid to not do anything with them.

Yeah Khan's a real friendly guy, right enough. Pity the poor misguided kroot that picks him for a buddy.

Seriously though, I just thought itd be a unique oportunity for a different point of view on the squad. But maybe a Kroot's eye view of the business end of the Imperium isn't what you had in mind.
I think a short scene including Vireak and would be a delight. I know if the cadets ever took on the green-skins I'd be right in with Smirking et al in a heartbeat.

I could do something with Vireak. I wouldn't be expecting me to bring in other named Kroot from my story, because doing so would spoil my plans for them (when I manage to get back to that story, that is).

Funny you should mention green skins...
One of the recent battles that the squad survived (albeit not gloriously) was a three way IG, Orks and Tau skirmish.
The grots had taken a small fortress and were pelting us with inefficient mortar fire. They lived.

When the Tau and subsequent Chaos battle are over, I'll look at how that could be approached. Perhaps some of the Tau escape this battle, or we get wind of them being based on another planet?

My main job is throwing awkward choices at you for the next few stories, not particularly structuring them.

That sounds like a great tangent story to me. I'll end up writing a whole chapter in which the cadets are just a dull blur of moving target in the distance. Well maybe after everyone has filled out the story from the human perspective.

You could do the same BlackJack, maybe wait and see how the battle plays out then turn the thing around and give us a replay from the Kroot side. I'd love to see an early Manalac teaches young Vireak story. This being a battle that the Kroot don't win they could be learning some hard lessons in when to fight and when to retreat.

Who are we missing story's for?
Accosta, Felix, Jhonus, Ardo... Frant. I'd really like to see some more from their original writers. Can we maybe give them a chance to offer up their creations before we kill them all in a fire fight.

Oh they can keep the names and characterisation, that's fair. I just think the statute on other folk writing for them is lifted.
We all have to write Delano anyway, as it's weird if she doesn't talk.