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Chapter 1

Statistically, you will almost certainly die when assaulting a well-maintained fortress with a competent commander. You must strive to make your death useful.

- Training Manual, Penal Legion, Suicide Bomb Squads

I looked across the river, and saw what I had gotten into. It seemed the World was aflame, that the Devil himself had risen from the Warp and brought Hell crashing down across the planet. I had never seen carnage on this scale before, and I didn't want to see it up close. Thousands of Troops crossed, Mainly Narmenian, but he saw others. Some were muscle-bound giants, others were thin, lithe in their appearence, but I had seen what happens to the trooper that tries to take one in a fight. It had been over seven months and the guy was still in the medicae.

I'm not meant for this, not meant for the terrors that that Hive had in store. It was huge, not like the plains of Narmenia. It seemed to encompass everything around it, as if it wanted everyone to see its death throes, and weep for it. I couldn't bear to imagine what horrors could do this, could actually destroy something so huge as to be part of the land around it.

I looked at the Veterans around me, wondering why I had been part of this regiment. This was the famous 34th Guards, or the 'Immortals' as they called them selves. They deserved it, too. They had been the only regiment that had not taken a single casualty on the front lines of Altimos III, where they had fought the Greenskin Venomhead clan. They had survived through superior training and instincts. I heard that they usually stranded new recruits like me, and if I survived, I would be accepted.

I shuddered at the thought.

A horrible screeching assaulted my ears, and I heard the other veterans yelling to duck. I tried to pinpoint the sound of the screeching, and caught a glimpse before I was tackled. It had been immense, and shot cold terror into my veins. I heard the stories about them, but never expected to see a Biotitan. It looked like all the pict-slates said, but they couldn't have accounted for this.

I looked at the person who had tackled me. He couldn't be the one that tackled me, could he? Then I glimpsed his rank. I shot up faster than they could have hoped to tackle me and saluted.

"Sir..." I couldn't think of anything to say. I had never been tackled by a Grand Marshal before, let alone the one that lead the regiment I was in. "...Sorry, Sir!"

I could only get that out as another person tackled me back to the ground, clamping an augmented arm across my throat. For a moment I was confused, until I realised he was choking me. I relaxed, thinking he would let go, but he didn't. He pushed harder into my throat, and I started to fear for my life. I grabbed his arm with one hand, and grabbed my combat knife out of my boot with another. As I did that, another three of them joined in the fight, one broke my Knife arm, while another started to help choking me. All the while the last held me down.

I struggled, feeling my grip on consience slipping. Soon, I felt dizzy, and the world started to go black. I looked up at the face of the man choking me, and he had the most horrifying look in his face. I remember it because it was the last thing I saw before going under. His eyes had an animal gleen to them. He smiled, and it was the most terrifying, Human face, that I would ever see.

I went under, and dreampt of home...

I would like some Critique about this, as this is the first chapter of a long project, following the 28th Narmenian army. Its composition is as follows:

Rifle Divisions: 13th Guards, 248th
Special brigades: 52, 152, 159
Tank Brigade: 6th Guards
Attached: 2nd Air army

If you have read the book Stalingrad by Anthony Beevor, and look in the back, you would see that this was an actual army that defended Stalingrad from the nazis.

Tell me what you think.

Very nice, you have a talent that makes me want to read on.

The OC-D

seconded. When do you reveal the next chapter?

I intend to do a chapter a day, so tommorrow you will see the next chapter.

this is good! props

Very nice, it's good writing. Draws ya' in like any good book should.

Children you call them? They can pull a trigger just as well as veterans, and they have the spirit of a bull narthax. Call them children if you wish - I call them troops.

— Colonel Marus Cullen, Pannonia 5th Infantry Regiment on Whiteshields +++

The haze over my mind slowly lifted, and I started to remember what had happened between home and here. I jumped as I noticed that I wasn't moving with the tell-tale rock of the ocean. I started to fear that the rumors about my regiment was true, and that I was alone. I started searching for them, and realised that my Laslock was gone. It had been given to me as a gift from my father, and I feared losing my family's only eirloom.

After searching through several piles of rubble, it turned out to be under a rock, pointing towards a side street. I re-slung it when I realised it. It had been faint at first, and I hadn't noticed it, but it was there. There was a chittering noise in the backround, and I remembered the screaming biotitan that had led to this.

To my shame, I ran, knowing that if they were that close, I would be dead soon. I turned back to where I was laying and already saw the smaller things sniffing at the ground. I stopped, and aimed my rifle. The shot went wide of the first, and smacked into another, killing it. I ran again, ducking through buildings and crawling over rubble.

After my lungs started to burn, and I had started to think again, I started trying to listen for my Regiment. I heard distand gunfire, but becuase of the walls, I couldn't tell from where. I picked the most likely direction, thinking that I would find them sooner or later, and that moving towards them would be alot more fun than waiting for the tyranids.

There wasn't much happening around me, and I wondered wether the Tyranids had been blown back, or if they were flanking an Imperial unit. It seemed like they had met little opposition, and many were unharmed, as if they were just born. I decided that Id better not think about it, and press on.

I came to a clearing of sorts, and peered out, safely befind a concrete block. In the clearing, there were hundereds of them, all of them regergetating into some grotesque pool that hissed in its centre. Dead corpses were sticking out, slowly melting into the organic slop. It sickened me, and I threw up. I kept on until I was dry heaving, but by then, they had heard.

They started to charge towards me, and all I could do was stand there like a grox in a landcars headlights. It was then that another regiment exploded through a wall, shooting into the horde and saving my arse. The tyranids shifted their attentions, and I started to run to friendly units. Just as my hopes were up, they started to fall back, turning to meet a group of tyranids that were coming down from above. I started to panic, and didn't notice the hole in the floor...