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Please enjoy the story of actual characters within my own Imperial Guard army, and any feed back would be appreciated.

Planet Gra’din
Population: 300,000 est.
Gravity: 1.3 Above Standard
World Class: Death World
Subclass: Junk World
Sector: Omeron
Date:

Regiment
1st Gra’din (Cavaliers) Regiment [Formally Rogue Traders]

Personnel
Colonel Martin
Biography
Core founding member of the 1st Gra’din Cavaliers, Martin, originally a Sergeant for Trader Moore lead the first charge against Ork warboss Gutmashe’s WAAAGH. Original squad lost due to infantry charge. Partially degraded holo-footage identifies Sergeant Martin with unknown private fighting hand to hand. Only Martin and a nameless Private survive hours after initial charge. The Private was later killed by an Ork stikkbomb according to Martin; at a later date within the campaign.
During the campaign Martin was field promoted to the rank of Lieutenant at the battle of Qurton fields as a direct result of inhuman bravery in the face of the green menace. No records state how a second chain sword was acquired during the campaign, all inquiries were later dropped. When questioned at the conclusion of the Campaign over his non-standard equipment Lt. Martin stated “It was there, so I used it.”
Colonel Martin’s appointment at the formation of the 1st Gra’din Regiment has been a cause of some interest due to a lack of an extended service record, all inquiries are further denied by Segmentum Command.
Commands
Breach! – Colonel Martin draws his second chain sword as he charges forward, allowing for two attacks to each figure to his front. Breach! Can not be used again till another “Charge!” is performed.
Charge! – Colonel Martin breaks from cover and rapidly moves toward the enemy, If the enemy is within eight inches of his base “Breach!” can be rolled for.
Cut through! – If two six’s are rolled Martin can use his “Cut through!” during his “Charge!” and “Breach!” abilities. “Cut through!” allows for all models within the standard command distance to follow Martin’s lead and Charge the enemy. Alternatively, “Cut through!” exhorts Colonel Martin’s men toward glory give each soldier a +1 attack in the assault phase.
Equipment
Dual Chain swords

Commissar Bron
Described as the “Bravest Coward to Ever Live” by other Commissars within the Emperium of Man; Bron is a later addition to the Gra’din Regiment as if an after thought. He forbids himself to execute retreating Guardsmen as human life is a premium within the Cavaliers on the small recycling world of Gra’din. Instead each soldier is issued a tattooed X along their left arm underneath their rank patch upon return to the Regiment or capture. Those that receive their third black X are arrested and placed at the head of any armored column armed with a laspistol only or a lasrifle with a bayonet affixed to lead a charge. Bron is considered a considerate Commissar of the highest order. Commissar Bron works in direct relation to Colonel Martin, focusing on organized with-drawls from engagements.
Commissar Bron would have long since been executed if not for Trader Moore’s intervention and her continuous demands for his release into her private employ.

Commands
Fall back! – Commissar Bron orders all Guardsmen to fall back in an organized manner. If a roll of 4 or higher is made his command circle is increased by one inch for ever number it is higher than 3 on the roll. Conversely if the number is below 3 the command radius shrinks.
Redeem Yourselves! – Commissar Bron orders all triple infracted Guardsmen to attack. This can be rolled for following the command “Fall back!” is used.
Another Day! – Commissar Bron orders a full retreat to save as many lives as possible forcing all Guardsmen to immediately run for cover and move their maximum distance away from the fight. Another Day! Follows the same rules as “Fall Back!”.
Equipment
Bolt Pistol
Swagger stick – Useless

Sergeant Winstone
Biography
Born to planet Gra’din as a native Winstone was conscripted into the Imperial guard at the age of 14 during the first of the Ork Incursions when small Ork warbands first emerged from the lower latitudes of the planet. Originally the Gra’din Regiment did not formally exist to Imperial records till the time of the resurgent of the Ork Incursions again ten years later; where Winstone was formally logged as a Sergeant. The highest point in her career has been marked by a blemish less service to the Imperium of Man. Following the end of the latest Ork Incursions on the planet Colonel Martin ordered her attached to his personal platoon. Speculation persists that Winstone’s attachment came about through a higher source though this has never been confirmed.

Equipment
Boltpistol
Powerfist

Gra’din Guardsmen
Every man and woman of the Gra’din Regiment are “volunteers,” social outcasts, and the occasional conscript from the jails. Upon completing a circuit tour within the Gra’din Regiment they are given the option of full retirement from the Guard with honors and their public records are expunged. A full circuit within the Cavaliers though is dependent upon the populations’ current estimate and rises and falls with it. Typically a circuit is a minimum of two decades of service. Though low populations have been known to extend service tours to fifty years or more in extreme cases.
The population fluctuates frequently as people are always transitioning to and from the planet. Being within the sector as a Forge World, Gra’din is a collection point for the Emperium of Man’s waste and the landscape suffers accordingly. The long time inhabitants are considered a tough group with their area of expertise being house to house fighting and city fighting as much of the planet is covered in scrap. This consequently draws the attentions of the Orks. The Guard’s most hated of enemies. The Gra’din Regiment is in constant deadlock with the Ork horde as each fight for total control. Being such a small planet has drawn some merit as they are rarely called away to fight on another Planet as they are considered engaged in battle.


Chapter 1

“Status of…” Colonel Martin murmurs in a low voice in the quiet command bunker as he looks at the glowing display in front of him. His voice trails off as Commissar Bron speaks up, his green great coat a stark contrast to the remainder of his uniform. “Sector twelve Colonel is still heavy engaged, Captain Wickner has petitioned for more troops, equipment, and…” Martin cuts him off mid-sentence. “Send him the second air group attached to Sector four.” Bron closes his mouth curtly as he nods. “As you wish, Colonel.” The Commissar makes a quick turn on his heavy boots as he leaves the Colonel alone with the Officer of the Fleet Hagne. The Fleet Officer clears his throat, “The second air group was loaned only to sector four for eight days, do you honestly expect a few strafing runs to save twelve?” The Officers voice nearly dripping with his higher education as he peers through the hologram of planet Gra’din. “If I cared about time frame Hagne I would have sent Wickner the entire Regiment, we have a planet to defend; not just Sector four.” Martin’s speech sounding tired, he had been awake for days on stimulants from the bunker’s medic as he moved troops about. The Officer merely shrugs as he looks back at the display. “As you wish Colonel, though those Valkeries will be recalled in two days time,” turning on his heel the Fleet Officer moves over to the vox caster as he picks up the microphone.
Leaning back Colonel Martin moves over to a large chair, sitting down on the edge he closes his eyes. “Hagne, inform Commissar Bron to attach two auto cannon teams to Sector eleven from Sector six.” Martin sinks into the chair as he blacks out. Turning his head slowly Hagne looks at the Colonel from the edge of his vision, murmuring his reply Hagne focuses back on the vox caster.

Stepping out into the red haze of the smoke filled sky Commissar Bron shields his eyes against the fine grit of rust as it floats along in the breeze. “Trader Moore would be intelligent to deliver more equipment, course delivering anything would…” A light cough draws Bron’s attention back to towards Gra’din’s surface, a guards woman standing on the gangway her uniform’s chest covered in reinforced metal stripping with plating distributed down the front of her thighs and arms. She gives a swift salute with her power fist the rank of Sergeant gleaming on the back of her hand. “Commissar Bron, Colonel Martin has ordered heavy weapons team attachments to Sector Eleven from Sector Six.” Bron nod’s his head as he looks down at the woman. “Thank you Winstone, if you will excuse me I have orders to distribute to the flight teams.” Moving down the narrow gangway Bron slides past the Sergeant as he moves off at a quick clip, his boots clacking on the pavement. Winstone watches the greatcoat of the Commissar flapping in the breeze as he moves off his outline becoming broken through the rust in the air. Turning her attention back to the walkway Winstone chews on her cheek as she climbs up onto the platform of the airlocks on the Destroyer Jaffe. She removes her helmet as she tucks it under her right arm, moving deeper into the ship she looks about, passing corridors empty or filled with the mydrid of personnel required to maintain the destroyer. Reaching the junction to branches O and N she turns the corner to her right onto branch O, reading the names of the lower state rooms afforded to the Colonel’s personnel guard Winstone opens her personal room farthest from the main hall that follows the length of the vessel. Stepping inside she drops her dust covered helmet into a collection bag as she disengages the powerfist with an audible snap hiss as the capacitators disengage from the power sources buried within the armored plate of the arm and forearm. Stepping out of her boots she leaves them by the door as the clasps to her armor open; each segment is set on the pile with care near the door till only her fatigues remain, the uncovered sections of the uniform revealing the lighter pastels of grey and black camouflage for urban fighting. With short pops the clips to her uniform are broken as her flak jacket is hung on the metal wall. Standing there in her fatigues Winstone looks about her stateroom, hitting a light she looks at her modest accommodations as she moves across the room. Reaching the door on the far side she works its handle as she steps into her personal bathroom. Shedding her pants she moves over to the mirror, pulling her shirt off with a hard tug she throws it into a corner near the door onto the pants laying there. Humming to herself she opens her shower setting the temperature, “A nice shower before I go before the Colonel.” She smiles to herself as she steps inside.
Colonel Martin awakes with a start as he feels a hand shaking his shoulder. He yawns as he looks over towards the would-be perpetrator. “Five more minutes,” Martin mutters as he closes his eyes once more. Hagne scowls as he shakes the Colonel’s shoulder once more, “You have been asleep for over two hours.” Martin opens his eyes with a heavy sigh as he pulls himself up from the chair, “I assume you wish to tell me the green menace is in retreat then from Sector four.” Hagne brightens slightly at the statement but quickly regains his composure. “Indeed, and the air strikes within twelve are being felt immediately and Wickner has reported they are holding ground and advancing as per orders.” Colonel Martin nods as he moves around the hologram of Planet Gra’din, “Tell me Hagne…” Officer Hagne arches his eye brows as he watches Martin pace around the holofield. “…would you care for some time to sleep?” Hagne clears his throat as he clasps his hands behind his back. “If it would be fitting, there are no standing matters left for my attention.” His posture relaxes as he finishes speaking, Martin nods his head. “Alright you can go, come back once you have slept.” Hagne nods his head as he moves toward the door. “Thank you Colonel, much appreciated.” Martin waves him off as Hagne leaves the room.
Sergeant Winstone steps out of her room fully refreshed in evening attire, a blue blouse with gold trim paired with a skirt coming down to her knees in a matching blue and gold trim; a cape thrown over her shoulder with the marks of a Rogue trader emblazoned across the fabric, the insignia revealing itself as she moved. Stepping down the hallways toward the main corridor her cape flutters as she moves revealing a bolt pistol within an elegantly crafted holster. A servitor passes by being followed by its techpreist-enginseer as they push a crate marked with the Imperial Guard’s insignia along the side the pair disappear as they cross the branches entrance, continuing down the hallway. “Again we have to use reserves from the Destroyer to hold this planet.” Winstone mutters as she reaches the main hallway, the techpriest and his servitor both no-where to be seen. Officer Hagne appears from branch N as he walks past Winstone. “Evening Winstone.” Hagne says as he passes by her. “Good evening Officer Hagne,” she performs a shallow bow to Hagne as he moves by.
Crossing the corridor to branch N Winstone moves down the hallway toward the command bunker; stepping onto the command deck in the bowels of the destroyer she watches as Martin barks into a vox-caster unit. “Sector Three, I want another patrol string tonight. The Orks have been hit hard in Four and may shift targets I want you all on high alert.” Martin listens to their reply before he closes the connection; he turns about looking at Winstone. Smiling Winstone crosses the room to Martin, he smiles back at her. “Well well, you seem to have taken to the trader’s life well.” Winstone flashes her teeth at him, “Well being paid to defend Moore’s interests is definitely nicer then life on a foreign battlefield.”