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Wow! Thanks guys!

I'll get to work on the next section then!

You better!

I'l look forward to it then.

5


Bravo fire team checked in as we were doubling back to the stairway. They had cleared the first floor and managed to bag one of our targets in the process. Tarleton didn’t sound happy though and Kaleb spelled it out for us when we linked up at the buildings’ connecting walkway.

“That’s one but we’re running behind schedule and this whole warehouse is a graveyard. Dawn isn’t far off and sooner or later someone’s going to miss a check in or find a bloodstain. There’s still two more warehouses to clear and now we’re dragging this heap of gak along with us it isn’t going to get any easier.” Kaleb kicked the bound and hooded man laying at his feet for emphasis. “We can’t call it a day with just one of these scumbags so lets move.”

Tarleton bent down and hauled the prisoner to his feet. The staff sergeant gave him a couple of swipes to the head with his free hand as he shoved the cell member towards me. “He’s been dosed with kalma so he shouldn’t be a problem but you’re going to have to wheel him around for us. I hear you’ve already gotten your hands dirty so you won’t mind taking care of the baggage. I don’t mind if he picks up a bump or a bruise but if he ends up dead so will you.”

Tarleton’s stony gaze lingered on me for a second before he sloped off to confer with Kaleb. The prisoner just swayed slightly as he stood in front of me, waiting to be manhandled any which way we pleased. There were stains on his hood from where he was undoubtedly bleeding underneath it but he didn’t utter a sound. Kalma is a powerful drug, particularly the Administratum grade dosages we had requisitioned. He wouldn’t need to be dosed again for hours and the chances of medical complexities were much slimmer thanks to the lack of impurities in our batch. The only danger was from troopers stealing vials of the stuff to sell back on our ship. Pure kalma can be gold dust to a guard regiment destined for the trenches and a man can make a nice pile of credits if he knows how to steal just the right amount to stay off the grid. Not that I ever indulged in the practice but every Adeptus has its hucksters and thieves.

I soon found myself in the middle of the column again where I could protect the captive. ‘Precious cargo’ felt like far too much of a compliment for that heretic so we just called him ‘that bag of gak’ if we had the time. At first I was pleased to have Tarleton give me guard duty since he must have heard something good about my room clearance but it didn't take long to realise that my captive wasn't capable of moving with anything approaching stealth. He would walk when encouraged but I couldn’t make him crouch on the move. It was either stand, walk or lie down. Not so bad when the point men are ruthlessly clearing the path ahead but if we got into a fire fight I’d end up dead trying to shift the fugger instead of looking out for myself.


“We’re making good time but there’s still too many dead bodies. This isn’t a stealth op anymore sir” voxed Tarleton from the rear of the column.

“No gak, staff sergeant but this is the only way” Kaleb sent back. He could have kept the vox conversation private, he could have reprimanded Tarleton for undermining his position in front of the team. But Kaleb didn’t need to prove anything to us and he didn’t need to hide the facts either. We were all fugged if things went sour and we all knew it before we even dropped. Even so, I did start to feel the pressure as time went by and the second warehouse got its walls painted red. That’s the trouble with solid slug rounds. They can be effectively suppressed and there’s no beam of light to tell you where the shooter is but they do make a mess when they hit. After the first few rooms we stopped hiding the bodies; anyone who had managed to follow our path would have raised the alarm halfway through the first building. Now it all came down to how quickly we could find the rest of the cell leaders.

By the time Wallinga signalled target acquisition I was drenched in nervous sweat. From my position in the column I could look back on the hallways we had covered and count a lot of corpses. It was a lucky break to catch two of our objectives together. But the elation didn’t last. All of a sudden Wallinga backed off from the door and signed ‘hostile close’ and before he could draw his weapon the handle turned and a lank soldier walked out into the corridor. I’m not entirely sure if I froze up in that moment or if Kaleb was just that damned fast but I couldn’t blink twice before I’d seen the lieutenant surge up at the PDF grunt and lodge his warknife in the man’s throat. All of this while drawing his pistol with his free hand and firing three shots into the room. I saw him wrench the knife out of the gargling soldiers neck in the same moment that he lunged through the doorway at his next man. The team followed him in wincing at the sound of the enemy’s screams. It was over in a few seconds and I arrived to find three wounded men sprawled on the floor of an overseer’s office. Two more corpses were slumped on the desk and leaking enough blood to re-colour their uniforms. Knife wounds aren’t pretty.

“How did you shoot so fast? Wallinga never said where they'd be...” I found myself asking, completely in awe of what the LT had managed to get done.

“Uniforms, kid. That and these PDF grunts are too young to be our men.” Kaleb said as he cleaned his knife and checked himself over.

“Here's one” called Tarleton as he smacked a man’s head into the floor and administered a dose of Kalma.

“Got the other” said Kuhrt as she placed a knee on the heretic’s neck to keep him down and jabbed a syringe into his thigh.

“Who’s the last then” said Kaleb.

“Looks like a junior lieutenant” said Wallinga with his knife to the terrified man’s neck.

“Not worth it. Kill him.” The officer had half a second to scream before Wallinga’s blade cut him open.

Kaleb didn’t even deign to watch, he was already heading back into the corridor to form up the team and move on. Kuhrt and Tarleton were busy patching up the holes that Kaleb had put in our prisoners. The LT had managed to miss hitting anything important but his pistol was a high enough calibre to induce considerable damage from hydrostatic shock and the last thing we wanted to do was explain target deaths to Captain Jarritch.

“Uh LT we have a problem” called Krentz from beside the office window and suddenly the welfare of the prisoners started to take second place to our own chances of survival. “At least two of the roving patrols are converging on the facility.”

“Hmph” grunted Kaleb. “Could have been that racket, could have been the trail of blood we’ve been leaving. Either way we got sent down here to bring four of these heretics back and there’s still one of them running around out here. Move out, Wallinga on point and towards the third building, Tarleton tell OpCom to stand by for extraction.”

“Sir” Tarleton rumbled as he dragged the captives to their feet and handed them off to Krentz and Briant. We still didn’t know if the enemy were converging on that office so we barrelled out and after Wallinga with more haste than I care to admit. I was forcing my prisoner ahead of me with my carbine resting on his shoulder until Kuhrt stepped over and kicked me in the shin.

“You’re the expendable one not him, rookie. Command will take a dead storm trooper over a failed primary any day of the week so do your job right and protect his heretic hide until we’re clear.” As she pushed past me I noticed she had her captive's right arm linked into her left so that she could lead him on whilst simultaneously maintaining her firing position. I quickly followed suit, forgetting the earlier praise that I’d been given and rightly remembering that I was still green. As I pushed on I heard Tarleton cursing over the vox.

“Sir, OpCom is asking for confirmation that we have all possible targets before they begin extraction. The bastards won’t risk moving in and waiting to see if we can grab the last man.”

“And, of course, they won’t move in for just for the three if there's still a chance of four. Navy suits have no fugging clue what we’re doing down here...” Kaleb joined the several curses that flooded the team’s vox net. “We don’t give in just because the mission gets tough. We’re not compromised yet so keep going till we hit trouble. Then you can call it in.”



It didn’t take long for us to hit trouble. A minute or two after we entered the main warehouse floor Wallinga called “hostiles incoming” and the column fell into firing positions as quickly as they could. I put my prisoner face down behind a stack of palettes and got my rifle into my shoulder just in time to see Kaleb sign his orders and note that he wanted us on night vision. There was a patrol advancing on us from the other end of the room so I pulled my goggles down fast and immediately winced at the glaring white light coming from the ceiling luminators. The discomfort only lasted a moment though as our point men calmly blasted out the lamps with their pistols. The warehouse was near pitch black in seconds and the approaching squad of hostiles faltered in their advance. They had just about heard the suppressed shots but couldn’t place the shooters and in that moment of confusion we had them cold.

“Go loud” voxed Kaleb and the team opened up on them with lethal precision. I took two more lives in that lightning fast moment and the din of our rifles left my ears ringing. “Confirmed hostiles down. Bravo move up and check the bodies, we might have killed our last man.”

“Shall I put in the call sir?” Tarleton voxed as he led his fire team towards the massacre.

“Keep them updated, staff sergeant. We’re not crying for papa just yet.” I couldn’t see Kaleb’s face under his night vision but he sounded calm as a drink of water. “If we shoot and move fast enough they won’t pin us down. Alpha prepare to move on Bravo’s signal.”

But Bravo never gave the call. They hadn’t even made it to the slew of corpses before the doors were flung open on the other side of the room and enemy troops surged inside. Their torches made it difficult to gauge their numbers but in a flash we realised it didn’t matter. The unmistakable hulk of power armour loomed behind a flurry of hostiles for a second before the giant began to thrust its way forward with the inevitability of a juggernaught.

“Mission compromised! Call it in and fall back, Tarleton!” Kaleb’s demeanour took an instant turn for the frantic but his rifle stayed rock steady. “Alpha deploy grenades and prepare to fall back on the double!”

Our fire team cast a hail of explosives at the enemy in an attempt to keep their heads down but I don’t think any of us were under any illusions about stopping the walking nightmare that was bearing down on us. At best we were going to slow him down and taking advantage of half a minute’s grace was all we could pray for. Unfortunately I was far too focused on throwing grenades to notice that alpha was almost up and ready to join bravo’s retreat. My prisoner was still on the floor and Kaleb was already ordering us back. My heart was racing as I bent down to haul that bag of gak up and my carbine was swinging in its sling as I desperately scrabbled backwards. Lasfire was beginning to streak past my head and I could feel the cold threat of an enemy Astartes scything towards me. In that moment I felt hands on my shoulders hauling me up with my prisoner and I looked into the face of Farrok as he pushed me back towards our retreating line. I threw my captive ahead of me and didn’t stop sprinting until I heard the chilling sound of a chainsword revving up. I turned my head in time to see Farrok being lifted up by his throat and eviscerated. The monstrosity made no sound as he carved across his belly and watched the intestines spill out onto the floor. For a split second I felt our eyes lock and my legs threatened to give out but Tarleton dragged me through the nearest door and back into the complex of office hallways.

“Focus lad, three minutes before we’re in range. Just focus.” The staff sergeant had his hands on my prisoner now and I doubted I’d be getting him back in a hurry but no one seemed to have any glares for me.

“Wallinga, keep us moving, we can’t get pinned down in a fight. Tuplin rig the door then double time it after us, you’ve got seconds.” Kaleb handed me a krak grenade and then followed the retreating team down the corridor. I didn’t waste any time thinking about what had just happened and I suppose that was Kaleb’s trick. I just primed the grenade for proximity, tossed it at the door and ran faster than I’ve ever run since. I got twenty metres before the grenade went off but I heard no screams of pain or shouts of surprise. There was simply a hail of bolts that presumably wrecked the door and set the trap off. We were being hunted by an Astartes; cheap tricks were never going to win the fight.

Wallinga had us winding through the building in a bid to escape the tightening noose of enemy patrols but there was no way to slip by all of them. I caught up with the team as they finished off a pair of hostiles leading a heavily muscled mastiff. The noise sent up shouts from nearby and I barely had time to catch my breath before we were off again.

“How much longer?!” Gasped Krentz with his eyes dancing back behind us.

“Not close enough for us to relax. We’ve put some distance between us and the threat but we can’t stop” panted Kaleb.

“Yeah and what happens if there’s more than one of them?” Sekunda asked.

Kaleb never got a chance to answer as Wallkinga shouted back at us. “Gakking exit’s covered. No chance.” We slowed to a halt around the final corner to the building’s exit and silently formed a defensive circle around our captives.

“Beacon’s activated. Fortify this position and prepare to repel hostiles” said Kaleb.

“Wait sir,” Tarleton offered. “Melta charges on the walls?” Kaleb nodded in a heartbeat and gestured to Briant. They placed their charges on a short timer whilst the rest of the team covered the hallways. I was jittery with adrenaline and seconds before the charges blew I began to hear the thundering crash of power armour moving at pace.

“Sir...” I began as the melta bombs detonated with their customary hiss.

“I know trooper! Get moving!” Kaleb and I were the last through the breach and the enemy were already firing on us. Cover was sparse on the outer wall of the warehouse and Kuhrt was already hit. Tarleton dragged her into the shadow of a heavy duty waste container but lasbolts were beginning to pour in from every angle and the brutal clang of the hulk that was stalking us had gotten loud enough to eclipse the frenetic thud of my heartbeat.





Then it was over.





You can’t explain teleportation to someone who hasn’t been through it. Not properly, not by a long shot. I barely know what happened myself. I didn’t even regain consciousness for three hours and I spent the next two vomiting into a bucket. All I really remember is a brief moment of absolute nothingness followed by searing white light. The rest is a jumble of disorientation and sickness. They say you get used to it over time and that must be true because the only other troopers in the infirmary where I woke up were Sekunda, who was still out cold, and Kuhrt who was picking at the dressing on her shoulder. After a couple of false starts I managed to sit up and it wasn’t long before Lieutenant Kaleb walked in with a man I had never seen before.

“At ease trooper,” said Kaleb. He was a little paler than usual but he seemed to be handling the jump well enough. “Normally I’d let you get some well earned rest but things took a turn for the worse down there and you’re the man who got the best look at him. I’ve brought someone to see you, he’s from naval intelligence and he wants to ask you some questions.” Kaleb gestured to a distressingly gaunt man in a dark suit who proffered a hand to me.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir” I began. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“No,” he replied. “You didn’t. Now lieutenant Kaleb’s report indicates that you came into contact with renegade Astartes on this mission. Is that correct?”

“Yes sir, we only saw the one but who knows how many are down there” I rasped.

“Right and I’ve been led to believe that you got a good look at the Astartes in question...”

“That’s correct, sir” I nodded.

“Describe him to me.”

“Well he was tall as they say” I began as the man scribbled into his notebook. “The armour wasn’t like what I’ve seen in the Imperial Annals though. It was... twisted... somehow.”

“And the colour? How was it decorated?”

“I’m afraid I can't say, sir. I was wearing night vision at the time.

“And did you notice any heraldry? Any symbols adorning the armour? Particularly on the shoulders?” I noticed the man's eyes widen with anticipation.



“Nothing that I recognised, sir. The only thing that stood out was some kind of strange snake. A snake with three heads.”

Alpha Legion! Now this is shaping up to be more than interesting trooper! I must say your work maintains a high standard. Well done

Seconded, well done.

Very awesome indeed .

Thanks a lot guys!

I've re-edited the last section to clean up the flow of the narrative and darken the tone slightly.

Ossum-sauce once again! Alpha Legion!

I'm loving this, its so different

Rumours are of another chapter, can we have a due date?

lol Its almost done. Thanks for the interest!

I'll try and have it finished by tonight.


Edit: Writing is hard, yo.

6


I spent the next couple of hours in the infirmary getting my bearings but it wasn’t long before the sterile indifference of the sick bay began to get claustrophobic. To our shame, Kuhrt was up and about before either Sekunda or me. We ended up stumbling out together after sluggishly signing whatever the orderlies put in front of us. I thought I was feeling a lot better about retaining the contents of my stomach but as soon as my feet hit the laminate floor of the infirmary I realised my balance was shot. I couldn’t bear another minute of cold glances from medical staff though so we just forced ourselves into the, still filthy, fatigues we had worn on mission and staggered towards the doors. By the time we had left the infirmary complex we were supporting each other’s haggard gaits and attempting to stay out of the way of the navy personnel rushing about the ship. Until I came to a depressing conclusion.

“Where the hell are our barracks, Sek?” I panted as we leaned up against a wall.

“I don’t even know what ship this is.” Sekunda sighed with his eyes on a passing troop of naval security.

“We could ask the doctors?”

“No way. There’s no way I’m going back there to ask for directions. They’ll call it disorientation and have us back in one of those cots. You know they will.” He said, shaking his head.
I nodded in understanding and looked around for some sort of signage. Just then we heard a familiar voice speaking in a very unfamiliar tone.

“There you are!” Boomed staff sergeant Tarleton. “We heard you finally got out of bed. Its a good thing too, the Lieutenant was starting to think you’d caught a taste for hospital food and easy living. I knew better though lads, I knew you’d be stumbling around somewhere lost rather than spending another minute in death’s waiting room.” Tarleton had strolled over and hauled us both to our feet together. The grey bricked cliff of his face was carved into a smile and this was somehow the most uncomfortable sight of all.

“Are we still on the Lord Dubois staff sergeant?” I asked, too unnerved to manage anything else.

“Yes lad, you haven’t gone far. Lets get you back to the Lieutenant so we can begin the proceedings.” Tarleton was still smiling as he guided us back to our billet. We were too relieved to start worrying about what he meant by “proceedings” but when he marched us through the doors and up to Lieutenant Kaleb I started to realise what was going on.





“Well well, look who decided to report for duty?” Kaleb was also sporting a curiously genuine smile. “How are you boys feeling?”

“We can barely stand, sir” said Sekunda with a grin.

“Good! Get used to it soldier. You’re not cadets anymore.” The LT opened his palm to us as he spoke revealing our Schola Progenia graduate pins. “These are meaningless now.” Kaleb tossed the silver badges away and nodded to Tarleton.

“Platoon, Attention!” Bellowed the staff sergeant and the dark shadow of what a squad might have been called in any other regiment stalked to the ends of their beds and formed up. It took me a second to realise that I was also required to stand to attention and I did my best to remain vertical whilst keeping an eye on Sekunda.

“At ease, you’ve earned it” began Kaleb. We sank back into more comfortable hunches but noted that the rest of the storm troopers remained at rapt attention. “You came through alright. Storm Trooper mortality rates are at their worst on their first deployment. You can train with the best for years but when it comes to the real thing there isn’t a VR simulation or live exercise in the Imperium that can prepare you for life or death violence. There’s barely much of a science to knowing who’ll be able to hold up and who’ll freeze at the critical moment. That’s why no one who bears the rank of Storm Trooper is a combat virgin. It means something to carry these pins.” Kaleb reached into a pocket to show us three soot black rank pins in the shape of a dagger. “We don’t present these to men wearing dress uniforms or to the sound of a regimental band. You earned these in the dark and that’s how you’ll keep them.”
As he spoke, the Lieutenant walked up to me and fixed the first badge to my collar then moved on to Sekunda.

“You didn’t just survive down there; you did your jobs and proved your instructors right. I’m proud to welcome you to 3rd platoon, 1313th company, Storm Troopers. Enjoy this moment, as we all do. But as we welcome new brothers we must also give tribute to the fallen.” At this the silently jubilant mood of the room fell to deep contemplation. “Siangh Farrok fell to the enemy in the line of duty. He did so with bravery and selflessness. He will not be forgotten for he will be remembered as a Storm Trooper of the 1313th. This last pin is held in remembrance of trooper Farrok; for he will receive no grave but that which we make for him in our hearts. Honour his memory as we honour all of our fallen brothers and sisters. In the field, in the face of the enemy. That is where we celebrate the lives of our lost. By the blood of our enemies will we anoint their passing.”

My blood ran cold at the eulogy for Farrok. Knowing his life was given for mine placed inevitable guilt on my shoulders and in that moment I felt certain that justice was cruel to spare me and take the braver man. I did my best to hide my shame before the whole platoon but I could feel them staring right through me.

“Platoon! Our Honoured Dead!” Roared Tarleton and we all saluted as one.



The next hour or so was filled with unprecedented levels of conversation with the other storm troopers on the team. Where once they had been cold and distant they were now, at least slightly, willing to speak to me. I had gotten the measure of half the team already; Kuhrt, Wallinga and Krentz had been on my fire team and therefore given me something to work with. But the remaining troopers: Briant, Wiesehofer and Nylander had been with Sekunda and kept their distance from me. I was given various pats on the back and darkly humorous anecdotes about what to expect on future assignments until Kaleb approached me and waved the others away.

“Things are different now trooper,” he said. “You’ll find out soon enough that we don’t really fit in anywhere but with each other. That’s a tough thing to understand at first but there are certain perks when it comes to Guard or even Navy regulations. But listen to me now and listen well. If you overly abuse the leeway that we’re given as Storm Troopers then I won’t be able to help you. Even we have a line with the powers that be and any of us can cross it just the same as a gunnery serf or conscript guardsman. Don’t forget it.”

“Yes, sir” I started, still unsure as to what he meant by ‘leeway’.

“There’s more.” Where Kaleb was stern his features now turned dark. “Any soldier who’s been through what you have will blame himself. It‘s just in our nature. In time you’ll understand the truth of it; you’ll see that there is no call for guilt. But until you get there I need to know that you’re going to be able to keep a clear head. All that talk about honouring the dead wasn’t for show. You honour Farrok by doing it right when we get back on mission. And as you honour him you will see the truth of it, I promise you that.” Kaleb patted me on the shoulder. “We’ve got our debrief tomorrow morning so get some mess hall food in your belly then get some rest. You’ll want to be sharp for the Navy brass.”







A short while later I found myself in line with Sekunda at one of the deck’s mess facilities. The slop that the Navy catering corps produced barely classed as food but it still beat several shades of warp out of the nutrient paste we were forced to shovel down at the infirmary. I was simply looking forward to a meal of solids and was hoping we weren’t about to get a bowl of soup.

“Any idea what’s on the menu, mate?” I said as I tapped the navy armsmen in front of me.

“No idea...” he began as he turned around. “Been having...” The man paused as he looked us over then tilted his head to the side. “Been too long since you had grox steak and wine eh glory boy?”

“Uh I... we haven’t had anything but guard rations for...” I began in confusion.

“Yeah whatever, mate. Just keep your gak hole shut in our mess hall.” The armsman spat and turned back to his laughing friends. I still wasn’t sure what we had done or why he seemed to have a problem with us so I turned to the gaggle of guardsman behind us.

“Can you believe these navy boys? Think they own us just because we’re riding on a ship?” I asked.

“Fug off” one of them growled. “Why don’t you go eat with the rest of the big toy soldiers?”

“Easy now” I said. “We’re just here to eat like everyone else.” But the guardsman had already turned back to their conversation leaving myself and Sekunda looking blankly at one another.

“Were you planning on stepping in there at any point?” I asked, half joking.

“You looked like you had it under control” he smiled. “At any rate, lets leave our insignia in the billet next time we go for a stroll, eh?”









By the time we sat down for our debrief I was about ready to call myself ‘recovered’ and it was just as well because the briefing room we were assigned was already awash with tactical hololith projections and data feeds from a dozen cogitators. If your head wasn’t swimming before you walked in it damned well was afterwards. This was a serious step up from the pilot’s ready room we had been given the first time and that instantly set the team abuzz with anticipation. There wasn’t much time to guess what we were in for though as Captain Jarritch blew into the room almost immediately.

“Damn fine work on the surface lads... and miss. Heard you took one in the shoulder?” Grinned the captain.

“Be right as rain in no time, sir” Kuhrt returned the smile.

“Kaleb,” Jarritch nodded to the lieutenant. “Heard you lost a cadet down there too.”

“We lost a storm trooper, sir,” Kaleb affirmed.

Jarritch nodded again and they both intoned “Our honoured dead.”

Following behind the captain was his ever present adjutant Markov but last to enter the room was the stalking whisp of a man that had visited me in the infirmary. The sight of that willowy, navy suit sent an unwanted shiver down my spine and I doubt I was the only one who felt it.

“Well then troopers let’s get down to it.” Jarritch began as soon as he reached the podium. “Your raid has been affirmed as a mission success by General Ortum himself. Don’t beat yourself up over missing the last target, plenty of Brass didn’t think you’d manage one let alone three. Your efforts are appreciated and the fruits of your labour are already being enjoyed by our friends at naval intelligence. That’s why we have a guest this morning. He has no name, no rank and no serial number, or so I’ve been told. So you don’t have to call him sir and on the rare occasion that you do need to speak to him you can refer to him as Mr Black.” Jarritch gestured to the man and stepped away from the podium in silence. After a pause Mr Black took his cue and paced over to address us. Meanwhile I sat there feeling like an idiot for just assuming the intelligence operative out ranked me.

“Thank you Captain. I have been informed that you do not require an extensive debrief so I will get straight to the facts. Your raid has given us two critical pieces of intelligence so far. The first is the visual confirmation of renegade Astartes in the Narbo system, namely those of the Excommunicate Traitoris Alpha Legion. The second, compounded in importance by the first, is a list of heretical informants operating within our very ranks. The prisoners you brought in resisted at first but our psykers broke their mental shielding in good time and have ascertained a laundry list of imperial officers that are in fact working for the enemy. This is exactly the sort of infiltration and espionage that the Alpha Legion has plagued the Imperium with but thanks to your efforts we’re a step ahead of their game for once.”

As he spoke the cogitator monitors began to flicker through the file photos and profiles of the imperial traitors. When the image of a commissar flashed up we all heard Tarleton snort with what could only be grim satisfaction.

“This is not a de-briefing gentlemen. This information is our best chance to derail the Alpha Legion’s intelligence operation and we need it done fast. Your team has a well deserved reputation for getting things done quietly and that is what I need from you once again. We can’t go through the usual channels and have these men arrested because making too many official waves could give these heretics time to bolt. We’re hoping that we can catch them before they even realise their cover is blown and that means that apart from yourselves, no one outside of naval intelligence will be aware of this operation.” Mr Black was forced to pause as various murmurs of ‘black ops’ and ‘knife work’ were passed around by the team.

“Your mission will be to deploy to Narbo and execute the enemy operatives as quickly as possible. Officially you will be deploying for a raid on an auspex station that will precede a major assault by Guard forces on the front lines. But after the facility is silent you will split up and make for your individual targets. We have nine informants operating on the surface and nine Storm Troopers cleared for active duty so I’ll leave your Lieutenant to assign the right men for the right job...”

This time it was Kuhrt’s turn to snort but there was no satisfaction in her grunting as she stood up. “My arms a little stiff but I’m still more than up to the task. Tell him LT!” Kuhrt’s protests earned a half hidden smile from captain Jarritch while Kaleb turned around in his chair to face Kuhrt.

“If you’re gakking me just because you don’t want to be left out I won’t be best pleased trooper.”

“No sir, I’m combat effective.” Kuhrt stubbornly held her ground whilst Mr Black helplessly looked on.

“Fair enough,” Kaleb said after scrutinising the wounded trooper. “Sekunda will go with you though.” Sekunda managed to turn to Kuhrt just as she rolled her eyes and collapsed back into her chair. Kaleb just chuckled and turned back to the briefing. “Carry on Mr Black, we’re all ears.”

“Right, well as I was saying... the mission requires a great deal of delicacy as we cannot risk the traitors realising their game is up. Unfortunately this will mean that we cannot inform any of the Imperial Guard assets in your mission area of your presence... and as such this will likely mean that you will be fired upon on sight or captured and executed as an enemy combatant. Naturally naval intelligence won’t be taking responsibility for you if you do end up in a brig. Our Adeptus profits from as little official record as possible.”

“So if the guard don’t kill us, you will?” Asked Tarleton.

“Essentially yes, staff sergeant. Although I can assure you that would be a highly undesirable outcome.”

“Ah, well that’s alright then” laughed Tarleton mirthlessly.

“Indeed... your mission secondary will be to ascertain, if possible, what sort of information these agents were transmitting but the primary should over ride this concern almost entirely. Do you have any questions?” Mr Black finished with the barest hint of a human smile.

“Are any of them psykers?” Asked Kaleb almost instantly.

“Imperial records state that none of the targets register psychic ability. But Alpha Legion operatives have been noted in the past to often be completely unaware of their traitorous heresy which implies either some form of hypnotherapy or psychic possession. Whilst the targets themselves are not psychic threats the hand of sorcery cannot be discounted and you are instructed to prepare accordingly.”


“How do we do that?” I whispered to Wallinga.



“Say your prayers” he replied with a dark look in his eyes.

Great job on this chapter, I like the feel you are building up to!

The change between locations was very smooth and the briefing believable, great job. I look forward to when the metal meets the meat.

Awesome .

oohhh fantastic! Love it. More.

Rez would it be OK if I posted your work in another forum?

Of course mate!

thanks for all the comments, guys. I really appreciate the feedback!

7

Attacking the auspex station went about as smoothly as anyone could have hoped; no casualties and a green light for a Guard assault to proceed under the radar. But knocking out an enemy facility without the alarm being raised was just a warm up. The hard work came next as we split up and began our lonely treks across Narbo’s war torn landscape. Sekunda had told me he was jealous I got to ‘ghost’ on my own; I think he was scared of Kuhrt. Either way, striking out all alone wasn’t exactly my idea of a treat. This would technically still be my second mission and whilst we had run countless escape and evade exercises in training there was still something un-nerving about infiltrating a friendly camp. Mr Black had told us we wouldn’t face retribution for Imperial Guard casualties if it led to mission completion but I still couldn’t picture myself pulling the trigger. The thought just left me with a dry throat and shaking hands. It didn’t seem to bother anyone else...

My target was sitting pretty in no less than a regimental headquarters three miles south of our secondary rendezvous point. He was a communications officer in the Valhallan 402nd light infantry and his file photo made him look like a school boy. Kaleb had noticed my expression when the pict flashed up. He told me that ‘death knows every man’s name and so do we.’ I think he gave me that target as a test.

I had plenty of time to think about it on the march to the forward base. Other than the fighter squadrons that occasionally zoomed overhead I was left to walk the no man’s land of the Narbo forests alone. It wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park though, at the time I had no idea if there were patrols in the area, friendly or enemy. With no team to cover all the angles it was a very paranoid scramble through the dark until I finally reached the Valhallan lines.

I thanked the throne when I recognised 5th company markings on the Valhallan equipment and insignia. That put the regimental HQ directly behind their position. This still left the 5th company for me to worry about but at least I was in the right place. Before I could even think of scrabbling across the open ground between the tree line and the guard trenches I had to make it past the forward sentries that the Valhallan officers had undoubtedly posted in the forest. Those icy bastards might not know the first thing about cooking a decent meal but they fight smart. Lucky for me I was fighting with the best tech Naval Intelligence had to offer. Thermo-optics made spotting their positions easy enough and after analysing their line I spotted a gap between two squad postings that a savvy trooper might squeeze through.

I counted three squads in my vicinity with what must have been a command group roving along the length of the line. But halfway between the second and third postings was a small ditch covered in patches of scrub that could conceal my approach. I didn’t waste any time but that didn’t mean I was rushing forwards either. I was near enough thirty metres from their observation posts and whilst they lacked my fancy optics they weren’t slouches. I was belt buckle down and moving at a snail’s pace for the next five minutes until I managed to sink into the gully that would take me past the watchful guardsmen. The climate was a little warmer down at the front lines than the snowbound warehouses where I’d taken my first lives. Even so, the mud was still frozen solid here in the south and that made for an uncomfortable landing. I couldn’t complain too much though; ice is a lot quieter than fresh slop.

I made enough progress in the next five minutes to get within earshot of the Valhallans. They weren’t stupid enough to be idly chatting on duty but their platoon leader was doing the rounds and I caught the tail end of a few bad jokes here and there. I took this as a good opportunity to speed up a little under the cover of their distracted attention but I had gone less than a foot before a chance ray of moonlight caught a length of wire inches from my face. I was too shocked to move for the first minute. After my heart had slowed down I carefully looked around for any secondaries then let out a breath and inched backwards. The wire was linked to a clutch of grenades that had been artfully concealed in the scrub above me. Icy bastards.

They couldn’t watch the ditch so they trapped it; it made sense. Lucky for me the trap was just a jury rigged surprise. Anything with a motion sensor or failsafe system and I would have been just another dead trooper. The explosives trick was crude but effective enough; it relied on the target putting pressure on the wire which would then pull the pin off one of the grenades in the bundle. This meant I could simply cut the wire and slip by un-noticed. Like I said, lucky.

After that close call I crawled along even slower than was completely necessary but it got me past the sentries. That made the next stage of the infiltration a little easier. It’s not supposed to happen but frontline troopers are usually staring into space rather than watching the line if they know they have forward sentries posted to raise an early warning. Getting by the sentries meant that I only had to worry about guardsmen who were only technically on duty. This still makes it seem easier than it was. I was forced to cover fifty metres or so of open ground at a snails pace, dodging searchlights or freezing in place for minutes at a time until I finally reached the lip of a trench. Mr Black had been very forthcoming with information of the defensive preparations that the guard had implemented on this stretch of the line so at the very least I wouldn’t be getting lost.

By far the most useful piece of kit the Navy had procured for us were the personal auspex devices we had been issued. Mr Black had told us they were miniaturised versions of the handheld sensors that the Adeptus Astartes used. The range was far shorter but you could strap it to your wrist rather than your back so none of us complained. In the trenches that gadget was the only thing that got me through. It pinpointed a suitably quiet area for me to roll in and mapped out the drainage tunnels that could take me through the trench network unseen. It was a tight squeeze but short of murdering half a company of guardsmen it was the only way across the front line. So with my shoulders tucked in and my rifle long since discarded I shimmied into the filth encrusted darkness and tried to make my way south without gagging on the myriad stenches that were assaulting me. Halfway through the first tunnel I got my first vox transmission. My earpiece was embedded and barely gave off a sound to the outside world but I got the message loud and clear.

“Progress report, spare the code, this channel is heavily encrypted.” There was no mistaking Kaleb’s stern demeanour, even over the vox.

“I’m currently passing through the Valhallan 402nd, 5th company lines. No alerts and no traces. I had to leave my rifle in the dead ground but its been dismantled and scattered as per SOP.”

“You’re running behind, kid. My man’s down, same with Kuhrt, Krentz, Weisehofer, Briant and Nylander. Wallinga and Tarleton are approaching theirs so pick up the pace. If you’re too slow he’ll bolt when the news gets round about the others.” Kaleb stated.

“Yes sir” I voxed with anxiety building in my guts. The Lieutenant hadn’t lost his temper but I would be damned before I let him lose his trust in me. “I won’t waste any time.”

“Good. I need you to move fast but don’t move stupid. Call me on this frequency if you need any advice but maintain vox silence with the rest of the team.”

“Understood,” I replied.

“The Emperor Protects,” Kaleb intoned and then clicked off.

That call put fresh fire in the forge. There was a small comfort in knowing that Tarleton and Wallinga, of all people, were also yet to make their kills but I was convinced I’d be dead last now. I struggled on until I could make out the grey haze of moonlight on mud and as I approached the tunnel’s exit I heard voices and picked up the scent of Valhallan tea. After crawling through a drainage ditch it smelled better than Elysian wine but it probably had twice the kick. My auspex told me there were three guardsmen enjoying the brew but I had to peer out from the tunnel mouth to double check their positions. Any other regiment would have had three shivering troopers huddled around their fire but winter on Narbo was still warmer than any Valhallan summer. These guardsmen were casually sitting around with a frustratingly professional field of view. More than likely they were set up to watch out for approaching officers or worse, Commissars, but their vigilance was just as effective at holding me up. The path left was clear of soldiers but until the tea drinkers shifted around I wouldn’t be able to slip away unseen.

I lay in the mouth of the tunnel exit for a moment as I weighed up my options. Simply shooting the soldiers could get me by but there was too much risk of one of them raising the alarm. Exiting the tunnel wouldn’t exactly be graceful either and I was no Kaleb. Even if I could pull off three silent execution shots as I scrabbled up from the mud the signs of struggle and missing troopers would still send up the alarm eventually. That left me with trying to cause a distraction or simply waiting it out. Knowing that Tarleton and Wallinga would have their targets down soon put a lot of strain on the decision to just wait for an opportunity to move, but in the end it really was the only option. Causing a distraction isn’t as simple as just throwing a rock or throwing your voice. Back on Terrax we were relentlessly reminded that military sentries are always suspicious and anything out of the ordinary will put them on a higher alert. If you throw a rock they are going to wonder where it came from and they aren’t just going to let it go. Nine times out of ten the best move an infiltrator can make is just to lie still and wait for the right moment to advance. It took them half an hour to decide to play a game of cards during which Kaleb called me twice for progress reports and all I could do was click back ‘negative.’ When I finally got myself out of that drainage ditch and back on my feet my heart was pounding with nervous excitement.

The guardsmen thankfully kept their backs to me as I darted left and into the rear of the trench network. I was getting close. My target was off shift and, being an officer, almost certain to be asleep in his own billet. Dietrich Dostoy, twenty nine Terran solar years of age and condemned to death as a traitor to the Imperium. I realised I was getting ahead of myself as I rounded the first corner and caught sight of the regimental HQ. This close to the trenches they weren’t worrying too much about hiding any more sentries and a quick sweep with my thermal goggles down seemed to confirm it. The HQ was situated in an abandoned power station, now repurposed to provide a modicum of shelter from the elements and the illusion of shelter from enemy fire. Lucky for me I wouldn’t have to worry about trying to sneak around inside; the building was undoubtedly jam packed with guardsmen ready to shoot first and follow procedure later.

I was heading for one of the surrounding buildings in what was a former industrial sector on the outskirts of one of Narbo’s larger cities. The HQ complex was lit up like Emperor’s day on Terra by a multitude of roving spotlights beaming from standard template guard towers. The brilliance of the light display was a little surprising at first but after I caught sight of the hundreds of Hydra flak barrels pointed belligerently at the sky I realised the Valhallan colonel had very little to fear from enemy air strikes. With that much firepower covering his camp the Valhallan 402nd were practically daring the enemy to attack. This colonel was flamboyant and reckless. Undoubtedly cast as a dashing warrior in the officer’s mess it seemed obvious enough to me that he was the sort of officer that would sacrifice good men for medals. This wasn’t exactly a shocking occurrence in the Imperial Guard, or so I had been told, but in truth I was simply frustrated at the delay his searchlights would add to my mission time.

The dilapidated and often half destroyed buildings that made up the Valhallan camp gave me enough cover to avoid the stabbing lights that were sweeping across my path. My patience was wearing thin but it would all be for nought if I mistimed a sprint and brought the whole base down on my head. I was only a short dash from Dostoy’s billet and crouching down in the rubble of what looked like a fire station when my vox crackled online.

“Report, and tell me what I want to hear this time, kid.” Kaleb sighed.

“I’m metres from the target building. ETA to mission completion, two minutes.” I replied, frustrated that the call had ruined my timing.

“We’ll see. You're last on this one so just get in there and make sure your target hasn’t bolted before you go giving me mission completion times.”

“Acknowledged, sir” I said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t lose your cool, Tuplin. You’re kept to high standards for a reason. Just get it done calm and quiet.” Kaleb clicked off before I could reply and left me to control my breathing and wait for the searchlights to move on.

When my path fell dark I slinked forwards as quietly as I could until I was at the target building’s door. It had remained relatively untouched by the ravages of war and as such was perfect for housing officers whilst the guardsmen got tents. I understand that rank has its privileges but Storm Troopers are used to a different breed of leaders than the rank and file guardsmen. Earning a commission in one of our companies is a brutal and testing business whereas we had all heard of guard regiments that allowed their commissions to be purchased by the nobility of their home worlds during their founding. Knowing our own officers as we did, it made it hard to view rank as something that outright deserved respect. Fortunately our postings almost always placed us outside the traditional chains of command and there was very little a guard lieutenant could threaten us with. Dietrich Dostoy, a communications officer, was about as low down on the threat scale that an enlisted man could get and I took comfort in the thought that I was now at the easiest part of my mission.

I scoped out the entrance as best I could through the keyholes and cracks under the door, silently reminding myself to pack a wire camera on the next operation. The hallway was clear as I slipped inside and hurriedly shut the door behind me. It was a relief to get out of the open and all I had to do now was head for room 1-D. The designations had been scratched into their doors, presumably by their occupants, so fortunately I wouldn’t have to check every room. The floor creaked uneasily as I sneaked through the hallways making me wince with trepidation. Thankfully I didn’t hear anyone moving around in response but in that moment every breath I took seemed as loud as a hurricane. As I approached room 1-D I drew my pistol and reached for the suppressor in my vest pouch. The thread had been oiled on Tarleton’s advice so that it made no noise as it attached.

It was only as I reached for the door handle that I began to worry that I might have been too late. The thought of Dostoy getting some coded message to bolt and fleeing Imperial justice thanks to my sluggish approach knotted my stomach in an icy grip. But as the door swung inwards I was greeted with the snores of a heavily sleeping officer. My relief was enough to warrant an audible sigh when I flicked the safety off my pistol and got a good look at the man’s face. It was Dostoy alright; sleeping like a baby after a day of subverting the efforts of the men who guarded him in the night. I felt my mouth form a snarl as I took aim for the betrayer’s head. One more heretic to meet the Emperor tonight...

But I never pulled the trigger. Whilst I savoured the feeling of delivering justice the unmistakable whine of an alarm began to screech throughout the HQ. Foolishly I immediately assumed I was the cause and rushed to the window to see if the building had been surrounded. But I had left no trace! I hadn’t been spotted and I had left no bodies! Then, whilst I anxiously considered what I had done wrong I made the actual mistake of forgetting the whole point of my mission. I was rudely reminded of Dostoy by the sound of him stirring awake and my heart skipped another beat.
His eyes opened just in time to see me lunge at him and bring the butt of my pistol down on his head.

“Shut your mouth!” I whispered, feeling like a fool as I realised the man had been knocked back unconcious. I decided not to waste any more time and put the barrel to his head but in the same moment that I pulled the hammer back I received a transmission from Kaleb.

“Abort! Abort! We’ve been had, kid. If you haven’t already killed him leave Dostoy and get out of there. We were tricked...”

Oh dear...this dose indeed look grim, I hope they get away but I dare not have high hopes.

A great read and very well paced!

Great as usual. That poor communications officer , well, looking forward to seeing these events unfold .

Very nice discription the whole way though, you character is growing great. More soon please.

Thanks fellas! The next section ought to be an intense one!

Just sat and read all of this and I have to say...I've read BL stories that don't flow as well as it. At times it's like reading a genuine war memoir. Your knowledge of the lore is obvious but kept subtle enough to feel like a natural part of the world, rather than overshadowing the story and I always find it more enjoyable to read about Imperial troops who act like professionals than the “raaargh bury them under mountains of dead Guardsmen” silliness. Also love the attention to detail, and your dialogue feels really natural to read.

So in other words, sign me up as a fan...!

Those are very kind words and I greatly appreciate them

What Fezman Said! Awesome, really good pace, no reliance on hyperbole to get a point across that a lot of authors use. Well done mate!

8

The blaring siren’s ascension in pitch and volume cut through the night and straight to my guts; the only benefit being that it covered my stream of curses. But I didn’t have time to wallow in fear and self pity, Kaleb wouldn’t let me.

“Where are you, trooper? What’s your situation?” He demanded.

“I... I’m in the target building, the target room... Dostoy’s alive but the whole base is standing to. What the fug happened? How did they find me, sir?”

“It’s not you they found, kid; we’ve got far bigger problems than that. But right now that means they still don’t know you’re there” said Kaleb.

“They will when Dostoy wakes up” I replied guiltily.

“Then kill him or bring him with you. Choice is yours trooper but if you want to live you’re going to need to meet me at the south west refinery and you’re going to have to do it fast.” Kaleb cut the transmission leaving me with a harder choice than I was prepared for.

I had no idea why the Lieutenant was so close to my position instead of marshalling the team at our rendezvous point but in that moment he seemed like the only safe bet on the planet. I walked over to Dostoy, the hammer on my autopistol still back and straining to bolt free. I stared at the man, contemplating his fate whilst my beating heart and ringing ears screamed at me to run for my life. But when Dostoy began to whimper and come around my arm sagged with the weight of my gun and I knew I didn’t have it in me to execute the poor bastard. Still... I couldn’t have him ruining my escape either.

“Listen to me Dietrich Dostoy and listen well” I hissed as I jammed the pistol’s suppressor into his forehead and locked eyes with him. “You’ve seen my face so the by all rights I should kill you here and now. But I’ve a soft heart and a very pressing need to get off this base quietly so you are going to help me and in return I’m going to let you live. Do you understand?” We stared at each other for a second before the sound and steam of warm piss in a cold room interrupted my glare.

“Ah! Throne! Are you serious?” I grimaced. “Get up and keep quiet or I’ll change my mind and your friends can find out you wet yourself before I shot you.”

“Who... who are you!?” Dostoy stammered with the good sense to whisper.

“Until you get me out of here I’m the Emperor as far as you’re concerned.” I replied as I threw him his uniform.

“You tried to... kill me?” Dostoy exclaimed as it started to come back to him.

“I was going to kill you; I was ordered to. But it turns out some Navy fug made a mistake so my orders were rescinded. You ought to count yourself lucky.” I whispered back, but from the look on the man’s face I could tell he didn’t agree. Despite his incredulity he was, at least, slowly complying with my demands. By the time he was dressed I could hear the building's occupants scurrying around in the hallways, cutting off the main exit and severely limiting my options.

“Is there a quiet way out of here?” I asked, pistol still in hand.

“Uh... you... you’re uniform” Dostoy was pointing at me from the corner of his room with a look of fear in his eyes.

“Don’t test me, Lieutenant. Just because you’re no longer a primary that doesn’t mean I don’t still have the authority to kill you” I snapped back at him. It was only then that I realised what Dostoy’s problem was. I hadn’t told him a throne damned thing that explained whose side I was on! My uniform was stripped of all insignia and even our weapons were exotic as far as a guardsman could tell. Dostoy, a solider fighting on the front lines, had made the very logical assumption that a man who had tried to kill him was fighting for the enemy. He thought I was some sort of heretic assassin and I hadn’t done much to prove otherwise.

“Listen, Dietrich I’m an Imperial soldier just like you. Bad intelligence placed you as a traitor and I was sent to silence you but it turns out you’re clean so we aborted the mission. Now I’m in the gak because someone’s raised the alarm and they’re going to be after the suspicious man in black who doesn’t fit in with the Valhallan crowd. If they catch me I’m dead but if you help me escape there’s no harm no foul ok?”

“I want to believe you...” Dietrich started. “But I don’t want to be hanged for aiding a fugitive!”

“Do you want to get shot?” I retorted, my attempt at conciliation having exhausted my patience. “I’ll take your silence as a no. So start helping, my auspex says this building has a basement but you need to tell me if they’re keeping any munitions down there? Anything explosive at all?”

“Why?” Dietrich asked as he watched me reach into one of my pouches. “Oh!” he gasped as he saw me place the melta bomb on the floor.

“Now’s a good time to start talking, Dostoy” I said.

“N.. no its just the bombardment shelter. There’s food but not much else.” He replied as he backed himself up against the room’s far wall.

“Ok now we’re talking” I smiled. “So this shelter, does it have an emergency exit? Any windows or cellar doors?” I asked praying for some miraculous escape passage.

“There’s a door” nodded Dostoy.

“Good” I grinned as I primed the charge and joined the Lieutenant over by the wall. “Shield your eyes, sir.” I told him, remembering he still, technically, out ranked me. The melta bomb began to hiss a few seconds later and even with my eyes closed I could sense the room flashing white for a second. There was a mild crash as the floor gave away but fortunately the cacophony of the bases’ alert sirens and shouts of the Valhallan sergeant majors were all that could be heard outside Dostoy’s room.

“Move now and do exactly as I say” I told the terrified officer. I Had made my threats and he would either believe them or not. Now I just had to press on and hope I’d made the right choice. We dropped into the makeshift shelter and felt the heat from my breaching charge even through our boots but time was running short. It would only be a short while before someone noticed Dostoy was missing and came to his room. Better he was shambling around in the dark with me than waiting to tell the ice warriors who to look for. I glanced at Dostoy for direction and he pointed away to the left, past a palette of rations, to a set of double doors at the head of some steps. Emperor be praised they were at the rear facing of the building where the visibility was far poorer for the guardsman manning the searchlights.

“What’s your status, son?” Kaleb’s voice stopped me in my tracks as I reached for the door handle. “I can’t wait out here all night.”

“I’m about to make my move, sir. We’ve found a quiet way out of the building and should be able to make the next few hundred metres on foot” I winced, knowing what was coming.

“We?”

“Yes sir” I sighed.

“Wouldn’t have been my choice but carry on, trooper.”

He didn’t sound happy but something told me I wasn’t the problem this time. In any case we had to get clear and it came down to simply making a break for it. I dragged Dostoy close and lifted the door slowly enough to make sure the coast was clear. We hopped out of the basement a second or two later with myself leading the way. I didn’t let go of Dostoy, especially when the sound of his billet’s occupants mustering on the other side of building sailed through the night.

“No time now, Dietrich. After that searchlight passes on we’re going to run towards the refinery to the south west. Stay low and move fast until I tell you to stop.” Dostoy didn’t argue, thank the throne, so we set off into the darkness and away from the hornet’s nest of pissed off, bleary eyed Valhallans that I had woken up. We paused at several ruins along the way to avoid squads rushing to the front line; fortunately they had abandoned patrol protocol to move double time. We had the refinery in sight after a few minutes and Kaleb pinged his position to my auspex after we entered range. We were moving through built up city grids by this point where supply, logistics and engineering corps were stationed as well as a smattering of civilians too destitute or stubborn to flee. A military curfew was in place that kept the streets relatively clear but fifty metres shy of Kaleb’s hide a jeep had pulled up with two soldiers who presumably drew patrol duty for this district. They mostly seemed to be concerned with chain smoking as much as is humanly possible; no different to most sentries, mind. But they didn’t seem to be going anywhere either and that worried me.

“Lieutenant,” I voxed. “They’ve set up a guard post between us, two soldiers in a light vehicle but the engine’s off and they look like they’re in for a long night.”

“Take them out,” Kaleb replied instantly. “By the time anyone realises they’re dead we’ll be long gone.”

“... Yes sir.” I knew he was right and the unlucky sods were even parked facing away from me but killing a man in your way isn’t the same as shooting an enemy soldier. Unfortunately, a soldier will almost always rationalise the orders he’s given if they keep him alive and I was certain those guards would shoot me dead in a heartbeat. I reached for my thigh holster with grim determination as I poked my head around the street corner to get a good look at my approach. But as my hands gripped steel I felt Dostoy tugging at my assault vest.

“What are you doing?!” He gasped. “You said you were an Imperial Soldier!”

“I am, Dietrich. But right now those guards are in the way of my Imperial mission. Let go of me, you’re almost home free.” I shook off Dostoy whilst simultaneously burying the knowledge that Kaleb might well end up executing the communications officer on the spot anyway.

“There has to be another way” he pleaded. “You can’t be older than 20 solar, how can you be so eager to murder?”

“I’m not eager, Lieutenant” I said as I turned to face him. “This is simply the last option available.” I stared at his desperate features, wondering if this military officer had ever fired his weapon in anger. He stared back for a moment before replying.

“You didn’t kill me. It would have been easier for you but you didn’t. Why?”

“I... You weren’t...” I trailed off guiltily, knowing where he was going with his point.

“You’re not a murderer. We can find a way past them.” He placed a hand on my shoulder intending to reassure me but really only made me uncomfortably aware that the frightened man I had been threatening was several years my senior.

“You’re no infiltrator” I started “and this vest isn’t some box of magician’s tricks. I’m carrying lethal weapons and interrogations equip...” I sighed and stared at the floor for a second. “I have Kalma. We all took Kalma in case there was a chance we could get the targets out for interrogation.”

“Alright!” smiled Dostoy, “no one has to get killed.”

“I don’t know why you’re smiling” I replied. “You aren’t going to like the plan.”






I sent Dostoy out into the street with his hands up. The guardsmen, to their credit, noticed him almost immediately and rushed over to him with their rifles raised. So far so good. Dostoy’s uniform had bought him a questioning rather than a hail of lasfire. They were a little rougher than I had planned for but no one was dead so it was an acceptable trade. Dostoy barely had to say a word before he was collared as a deserter and as they turned to bundle him into their jeep I crept out from behind the corner and stalked up behind them. In each hand I held a hypodermic needle loaded with enough Kalma to make sure these boys had a pleasant evening and besides the moment where I jabbed the steel points into their necks they enjoyed exactly that.

Dostoy helped get them back into their seats and after they were back where they belonged we sprinted over to the alleyway where Kaleb was hiding out.
“That was quite a performance” He said as he materialised from the shadows. “And you brought a friend too?” Kaleb regarded Dostoy with a half smile that seemed more than threatening to the quivering man.

“Dostoy helped me escape, sir.” I said with a sinking feeling.

“You haven’t escaped anything yet, trooper. Someone’s brought the whole damned planet down on us and you’re the only man left on the team that I know is alive.”

“Sir...?” I asked, agape with fear and confusion.

“I came looking for you instead of heading to the RV. You were running last and a regimental HQ is no easy nut to crack so I came in to lend a hand. But just before the alarm went up a transmission came through on every public information terminal I could see. Throne it looked like every damned monitor in the city was playing the same message.” Kaleb paused as he rubbed his temple. “The message displayed pict recordings of our kills. Kills which included Nylander shooting the city governor in his damned bed whilst recanting the Emperor’s benediction, You saying out loud that you’re an Imperial soldier and me dressed as a Mordian Captain cutting the throat of a fugging priest,” Kaleb finished.

“I... Gak” Was all I could muster at first. Kaleb nodded at me and continued.

“It gets worse, kid. First they played the recordings then they played their message. ‘The Imperials are butchers!’” Kaleb imitated. “’Rise up and take back your planet before they come for you!’ and so on and so forth.”

“How did they get us on camera? How did they broadcast the message?” I stammered. There was no way Dostoy’s billet was covered in surveillance gear; I had seen nothing.

“Throne” Dostoy exclaimed. As we turned to him I could see he was operating a personal data slate and the blue glow of the screen was illuminating his features in the dark alleyway. “The message has been uploaded to my slate.... That’s you killing the old man?!”

“I was there, son I don’t need to see it again” Kaleb snarled. “We’ve got bigger problems than figuring out how we got burned. I’ve lost contact with the rest of the team... a few minutes after the alarm went up they all stopped responding. Most of them were safe at the rendezvous so if they went dark then that only means one thing...”

“Sir?” I closed my eyes and shook my head as I waited for his reply.


“The brass is cleaning up its mistake.”

Poor Storm Troopers, all that kit and training and just to be as explainable as the rest of the Guard.

Time to find Mr Black me thinks.

If you're reading this then thanks for giving it a chance. Criticism is greatly appreciated!

9

It took me a moment to come to terms with the fact that we were being hunted. The Imperium had given me everything; I was a child of its institutions, a product of its training. Ever since I was old enough to learn about the world beyond my Scholam the Imperium was my shield against the horrors of the galaxy. Now my protector had joined the, already large, ranks of people who wanted to kill me and it felt like the sky was falling.

Kaleb was pacing back and forth ominously whilst I did my best to control my breathing and Dostoy was staring at the both of us and twitching with what must have been an uncomfortable urge to ask if he could leave. I don’t think either of us gave a gak about the communications officer anymore but that didn’t mean that Kaleb was going to let him go and tell his CO where he’d been.

“Alright, get it together Tuplin we’ve got work to do.” Kaleb hissed. “The Alpha Legion just played Naval Intelligence like schoolboy fools and now the only way to way to limit the damage is for our ‘superiors’ to claim its a lie and hunt down the idiots in the pict casts.”

“So what the fug are we supposed to do, sir? There’s no one left on the planet... in the sector even! That doesn’t want us dead...” I bleated.

“First thing is for you to calm down, son. Panic is death to soldiers” Kaleb warned. I managed a nod and subconsciously brought a hand to the hilt of the knife strapped to my shoulder; holding the blade centred my thoughts and slowed my breathing to a steady rate.

“Right... Right, what’s the plan, LT?” I asked.

“The rest of the team aren’t responding to comms but that’s no surprise given that Naval Intelligence has our channel codes. Emperor willing they’ve dispersed and disappeared into the city until I sort this gak out. It wouldn’t be the first time...”

“Uh Lieutenant...” Dostoy began. “You might want to see this.” The Valhallan handed his data slate over to Kaleb and I craned my neck to get a look at the pict cast that was playing. Kaleb’s knuckles were already white with tension when I saw the close up shot on the grim face of Tarleton, bound in chains and being displayed on a floodlight stage. Briant and Krentz were standing either side of him and in front of the three captives lay the bloody remains of Nylander and Weisehofer. We watched in mortified silence as a Commissar read out the charges brought against them and denounced our comrades as agents of the arch-enemy.

"Your crimes are indefensible. Your guilt is beyond doubt. For the murder of Imperial officials there can be only one punishment. The heretical lies and blasphemous slander against our great Imperium will not go unanswered! The people of Narbo will see revenge! The brutal killing of Narbo Primus’s city governor must be met with public justice!” As he spoke Briant was pushed forward and, with his legs in manacles, he fell to the floor. “In the Emperor’s name!” the Commissar cried before he drew his laspistol and shot Briant through the head. Then Krentz was kicked in the back of his legs and sent to the ground but he made no whimper as the executioner stepped forward and fired his pistol. The guardsman standing behind Tarleton was unable to force him to his knees so The Staff Sergeant spat on the ground and stepped forward to look down on the Commissar, casting an unflinching gaze of quiet disgust right up to the point where the man in black put the barrel of his pistol on Tarleton’s chin and pulled the trigger.

No one spoke for a while but I could feel Kaleb’s seething anger through his heavy breathing and white knuckle grip on Dostoy’s slate. It infected me, inflamed my own enraged sense of betrayal and grief. I don’t know how long we stood there for but I know the only thing I cared about in that moment was revenge. I wanted Mr Black’s blood to stain the floor and I wanted to see it done by my hand. As treasonous as the thought was the blasphemy of sedition seemed so insignificant compared to the primal urge to avenge my kin. Tight lipped, aggressive and competitive as they were the team was the only family I had left after a childhood reared by the Imperium. I had no parents, only my CO. I had no siblings, only my squad mates. I could never start a family; I would only have new recruits. Now I had watched five of my brothers die at the hands of those we had shed our blood for. I think if Kaleb hadn’t slapped me I would have stayed in that rage fuelled trance for hours. He told me later that anger was almost as bad as panic. That you had to find a place deep within yourself where you could keep it boxed away and under control. I never saw him shed a tear for those he had lost; he had mastered himself, harnessed his emotion and used it for fuel rather than letting it cloud his judgment. I still had to learn how.

“Eyes front soldier!” Kaleb snapped with his hands on my shoulders. “Wallinga, Sekunda and Kuhrt were missing! Throne knows where Wallinga's stashed himself but the other two were at the rendezvous point when I left so they must have escaped the ambush. I don't plan on letting any more of my troopers get rounded up and shot so we're going to comb the RV until we find them or we find the sons of bitches that did this to us. We’ll mourn our honoured dead when we’ve secured our fugging living!”

“Understood, sir...” I spoke with a broken voice “Lead the way”. Moving towards the rendezvous point where our team had been ambushed wasn’t exactly the smart move if we wanted to stay alive but in that moment I would have charged an Astartes if it meant rescuing a comrade.

“We just have to tie up this loose end first” Kaleb said, gesturing to Dostoy. The Valhallan’s eyes widened as he considered what the LT had meant.

“I’m sorry about your friends!” he pleaded “I didn’t have anything to do with any of this!”

“I know” Kaleb calmly replied.

“I don’t want to die” sobbed Dostoy.

“I know” said Kaleb as he reached for his pistol.

“LT, wait” I started, surprising myself. “He’s a comms officer right? Maybe he can get a message to Captain Jarritch?” Kaleb paused as he considered the point.

“You were off duty tonight?” He asked Dostoy.

“Yes!” he replied desperately.

“The officers in your outfit go to a brothel or a bar in this town?”

“Yes...” Dostoy returned with a little confusion.

“Then you sneak back to your billet and you tell them you were getting your money’s worth when the alarms went up. You’ll get chewed out but you’re an officer so chances are you won’t end up too worse for wear.”

“I also put a hole in his floor, sir” I added.

“Old buildings on the front lines fall apart all the time, son” Kaleb replied without taking his eyes off Dostoy. “Now you listen here Lieutenant. The only reason you are alive is thanks to trooper Tuplin over there. You owe him a severe debt and you’re going to repay it right now. You go back to your post and you return to your life. You do not mention us, you do not mention anything about the attacks. But what you will do is deliver a message to Captain Jarritch of the 1313th company, Storm Troopers. Its very simple, you just tell him to contact me on a secure channel. I can’t give you the frequency in case you get caught or decide to turn us in so you just tell him to remember the Persepolis gambit. He’ll figure out the rest. Now I don’t care how you get this done but you will swear, now, to do it or I will kill you.”

“I swear! I can do it!” Dostoy stammered.

“Alright then” Kaleb smiled and turned to walk away. “But if you try and screw us over we’ll make sure you suffer for it. Tuplin found you before and he can do it again.”

I glanced at Dostoy for a moment before I turned to join Kaleb on the hunt for our comrades. The Valhallan was terrified and looking back on it I probably should have given him some encouragement but I don’t think I could have mustered up anything worth listening to. Kaleb might have had some superhuman ability to master his emotions but I could barely focus on anything but the knife that had found its way back into my hand again. Dostoy was long gone before I got the urge to look back for him but I hoped he wouldn’t get strung up. Not just for our sakes... He was the first man with a conscience I had met in a long while.





The rendezvous point was due east of the industrial sector we had wound up in. We had planned on regrouping and signalling our evac from a clearing in one of Narbo Primus’ surrounding forests. The isolation was supposed to keep us safe but it ended up keeping the team somewhere quiet where they could be ambushed in the dark. Throne knew how Sek and Kuhrt had made it out or which way they had fled but Kaleb was confident that our short range burst communication would still be functional. We had set off in silence and the patrol had stayed that way as we bounded between the urban detritus that slowly gave way to country lanes and thickets of vegetation. With almost every rifle on the planet classed as a hostile and dawn fast on our heels we weren’t breaking focus for a warp damned thing.

That was until we heard gunfire. The crack of a lasgun’s discharge sounds pretty similar to a length of wood being snapped in half. Back in the Schola Progenia we had made use of the similarity to terrify some of our jumpier classmates on occasion. But after going through boot on Terrax and firing a lasgun every day you pick up on the subtle whine that precedes the snap to the point where you can even tell what sort of charge is being fired just by sound alone. When Kaleb held up his fist and brought us down we both knew in seconds that there was a firefight taking place in the woods to the east. Dawn was colouring the night a dour grey but under the forest canopy darkness still prevailed for the moment and every few seconds a stitch of light could be glimpsed streaking through the trees.

“That’s got to be them” I whispered, hoping against hope.

“Could be” conceded Kaleb, “But we aren’t charging in without knowing for sure.” Kaleb put a finger to his micro-bead and adjusted his frequency to the squad channel. “Tredecim” intoned the Lieutenant. We waited with baited breath for agonising seconds whilst shots intermittently fired back and forth in the dark.

“Tredecim Vincent!” Blustered an exhausted but unmistakably relieved Sekunda. All together the phrase meant “thirteen thirteen conquers” in high gothic. The benefits of a Schola Progenia education meant that there wasn’t a storm trooper alive who couldn’t speak a rudimentary amount of the formal language. We couldn’t use it for actual battle cant since the risk of an educated enemy was too high but as an ident code it did a good job of masking our company motto.

“Crow delta. 262” Kaleb voxed before turning to me. “Sounds like there’s at least a platoon after them. We don’t want a fight, execute fall back pattern delta.”

“Acknowledged” I said with a grim smile. There was every possibility that the men hunting us were listening in to our radio transmissions and a smart man could likely guess that the numbers in our battle cant were used for bearings but no platoon officer was going to put that together and no radio officer was going to have time to even let him know a vox transmission had taken place.

I was wearing a stupid grin by the time Sekunda bolted past me with the ice cold sniper, Kuhrt. Kaleb and I were hidden in a patch of undergrowth that overlooked the outskirts of the forest. It wasn’t long before the shapes of hostile guardsmen began to coalesce from the gloom but the first two to actually venture out of the woods met with deadly accurate and suppressed auto fire from Lieutenant Kaleb’s heavy duty side arm. I took the third in the chest and the fourth in the shoulder as he tried to dive back into cover. Four quiet shots with no tracers is all it took to make that platoon gak themselves and hide in the woods instead of rush us. For all they knew the two of us could have been a whole damned company but we didn’t stick around to let them in on our secret. Kaleb signed to me for frags on proximity and we lay a few extra surprises on the road for when those fugs eventually restarted their pursuit. But by the time they had sheepishly stuck their necks out from the trees we had been sprinting for minutes.






The real problem was that there was nowhere left for us to run. The city was an Imperial stronghold with fortified positions all along the northern borders and the eastern forest we were running through was crawling with guard soldiers on the hunt for us. It was a small mercy that the gear we had been equipped with for the mission kept us practically undetectable to auspex sweeps but there wasn’t much we could do if we got pinned down by boots on the ground and we knew it.

“Its damn good to see you, sir and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but where are we going? What the hell even happened?” Sekunda asked after we had stopped in a patch of bracken to regroup. The sun was up by now and casting its accusatory light on our backs, ushering away the protection of the darkness.

“The whole mission was a trap and Naval Intelligence just sold us down the river to clean up their mistake. They jumped our evac point hoping to knock us all out at once and they came fugging close.” Kaleb spoke quietly as he thumbed more bullets into his pistol mags.

“Nylander and Wesiehofer...” Kuhrt murmured, looking away.

“Its worse than that, Sara - ” Kaleb began.

“I know, sir! They took the others... Tarleton, Krentz... and Briant” Kuhrt spoke the last name softly. “We tried to stop them, sir I swear it but we were separated. We have to go back for them! Wherever they’re being held we have to bust them out!”

“You’re damn right” Sekunda joined in. “Bastards betrayed us after what we went through! Nylander and Wiesehofer are dead!”

“They’re all dead” I cut in and everyone fell silent. Kaleb turned away to focus on his equipment whilst Kuhrt and Sekunda stared at me in disbelief. “They were executed... I... they’re gone.”
I could barely speak the words aloud myself.

“What? No that can’t be. Why would they take them alive just to go and kill them anyway...” said Sekunda.

“It was a public execution” said Kaleb, picking up where I had to stop. “The men we assassinated were loyal and images of our kills were used to incite revolt against the Imperium. Now the Imperium needs to demonstrate that we aren’t working for them so they had themselves a broadcast of their own.”

“Pierre...” Kuhrt whispered and sunk to her knees.

“I know it hurts, Sara” Kaleb spoke as he padded over and laid a hand on Kuhrt’s shoulder. “But we can’t fall apart now. I’m talking to you too, son” Kaleb looked to Sekunda. “If you grip that rifle any tighter its going to snap. Now I need the both of you focused and alert if we’re going to get through this.”

“Get through this?” Sekunda asked. “There isn’t a man on this planet that won’t put a bullet in us or sell us out the moment we turn our backs. The best we can hope for is avenging the team before we’re sent off to join them.”

“You’re not wrong there” I added. “I’m thinking we pin our company colours to Mr Black’s corpse.”

“You got a shuttle hidden in your webbing you weren’t telling us about, Tuplin?” Kaleb snapped. “You leave the plotting and the scheming up to me and we just might get back to our company. When the dust has settled and the weapons are lowered... then you might get a real chance to slit the right throats.”

“Honestly, sir I’m thinking we’re going to need a gakking miracle, fresh from the Golden Throne, to see our company again.” I started, knowing full well I was being petulant but before I could continue to whine a grizzled voice crackled through our vox sets.

“Tredecim.”

A fine new entry I must say, poor sarge though, I kind of liked the guy.

Not much else to add but sorry on the late post and keep it coming.