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Been thinking about this for a while and thought it would be a good story, i would like to hear feedback and critique's

One white rose amid the green and brown color of a forest filled with enemies and death, an image of tranquility amid the horrors and pain of life, but respected by the natural world as if it is more than what it seems. It shows the significance of one little rose can bring peace to those whose eyes dine upon it and peace to just a small area in which it sits, framed by brambles, ivy and ferns. It is an image that can stay with a man until the end of his days.

*Crack*

The little rose, an island in a sea of despair and chaos, disappears. It crumples to black dust, after being grazed by indiscriminate las fire and then trampled into the mud by running boots, but the image still lives on.

Blackness…

“Hytow! Hytow!... Get up you bokhead!...” the vox crackled. “We need every gun out here. We are getting rushed on the portside, by these bokking cultists!”

Samal Hytow shook his throbbing head, and decided not to do that again as a wave of dizziness nearly overtook him. He searched around for his fallen lasgun, because a Guardsman is nothing without his lasgun and besides being a large man what good would his fists do in a fire fight. He grunts, lifting his bulk off the ground to free his las from under him. With gun in hand, he runs out of the Chimera APC and joins his squad in firing upon the cultists they were looking for.

A few moments earlier…

As the rose was dusted, Hytow reacted like any Steel Eagle would, bring the gun about and look for the enemy, aim for the head. As his fellow troopers rushed for cover and returned fire, Hytow spied a possible leader among the cultists ambushing their part of the convoy.

Hytow voxed, “Possible cult leader sighted, dressed in a brown flak jacket waving a rusted sword, approximately 150 ft, at the 7 position to the 9th’s chimera.” Receiving a chorus of positive confirmations, Hytow tried to get a bead on the ‘leader’ but couldn’t get a shot through the swarm of cultists. Then the unfortunate happened, a cultist noticed Hytow lying prone on the chimera and proceeded to shoot. The first shots strayed but one didn’t. Hytow saw it coming and tried to dodge but couldn’t completely. And his last thought was, ‘if I survived this, Ghardo better fixed me straight.’

Blackness…

Currently…

“Nice of you to join us here, while we lay down fire so you can lie down and sleep,” shouted a lanky trooper, as he reloaded behind a fallen log.

“Did you take out Rusty Sword yet, “Hytow responded, as he fired over the trunk.

“No. He either, retreated and let the mob take care of us, or he is laying low on the other side of the tree line,” replied the trooper.

“Well what’s the plan then, Parker?”

“Ask Graper, he is the sergeant of squad 9 still.”

And right on cue, Graper’s voice came over the vox. “Men of 9, the colonel has tasked us with taking the leader out of the equation, since we were the lucky ones who found him. Let’s go find him and show him how we do things back on Pavonis. Form up on me.” And nearly machine-like the squad grouped up, and gathered round Sgt. Graper to start the stab to the decapitate the enemy.

“Who do we have on either side of us? “ Graper asked.

“Squad 12 and 3 on the right.”

“And 16 on the left, sir.”

“12, 3, 16,” Graper voxed, “…could you provide us covering fire so we can advance through these crazies?” A pause, “Ok men, let’s go.” And the ten man squad leap over the log as coordinated fire blasted a cordon for them to advance through. Once across the log, Thyd, Stefen, and Cask, with the squad flamer, Rahill, aimed fire directly ahead clearing the ground of vegetation and cultists, while the rest of the squad covered them from the sides. They burned and shot their way through the cultists to the other side of the tree line.

As they reached the other side they could look across and see the city of Fottree in the distance, wreathed in smoke from the weeks of bombardment and eventual fall to the cultists and the Traitor guard that assisted them. That was the objective for the 41st and 12th Armored of Pavonis, to assault and recapture Fottree and used it as a base to launch attacks towards the capital city further north. Once past the trees they saw a line of men and tanks heading back towards the city, and using the Bionic eye granted to him by the tech adepts of the Mechanicus, Graper looked for their target they were sent to eliminate. He saw him running with an obvious limp, with his sword still in his hand, almost left behind by his own men.

“Thyd, you still have the best shot in the squad right?”

“I think so sir, I won the bet last week for who could dot the ‘i’ at 200 paces.”

“That’s nice but could you nail the mob’s fleeing commander.”

“Of course, sir.”

Thyd dropped down, into a kneeling position, aimed down his modified lasgun, paused, and fired two shots. The cultist commander lost his head on the first shot severing it from the body and the second vaporizing it to just fragments of blood, brain and skull. The cultists that were near their commander jumped and ran all the faster from the body that was spewing blood into the dry grass of the plain.


more to come in later posts and possible pictures...

very good starr can't wait to see more

very good starr can't wait to see more

“Funny, Funny, Thyd,” chuckled Hytow. “ I doubt you could be that lucky again.”

“Wanna to bet?”

“Sure why not? It would be nice to have a few extra bills in my pocket or to have that bottle of delicious swill of Happe’s you keep in your locker.”

“Ladies,” Graper said. “I myself would not mind the bottle of Happe’s but we eliminate the target and saw what lays before us on the way to Fottree, so we need to get back and report to the major.”

A chorus of affirmatives and sirs followed. And the squad trudged back the way they came through the path they carved out of the woods. Eyes open to pick off any stragglers trying to flee with the rest. Soon enough they came across the log that covered them at the start of the ambush, with a tons of las burns and holes where someone fired solid rounds at them. And just beyond that the rest of the 41st and 12th were re-assembling by squad or restarting stalled engines. And as they approached the road, Major Case approached graper.

“Sergeant Graper, what’s your report?” Case said with his screeching voice.

“We killed the leader that we identified at the beginning of the ambush on the other side of the tree line. But from what I could tell the enemy just intended for this to be a way to hamper our advance to Fottree. I would hazard a guess and say that they are grouping along the main road to Fottree.”

“That may be true but we won’t move based under you assumptions. You will make a full report to the colonel and then we will decide what to do after.” And as an aside, “Thank you very much for your effort Squad 9.” As if he thought they didn’t deserve his attention but was told too.

As Case stomped away with Graper, Hytow spoke just loud enough so his fellow squadmates could here. “From the deepest of our hearts, we thank you Major ‘Bokhead’ Case.” Followed by a collective chuckle from the rest.

“I guess we better load up and wait for Graper, said Trooper Margon. “And Hytow go get your head checked ‘cause it looks you have blood for sideburns.”

With that Hytow trudged down the line of rumbling chimeras looking for Ghardo, the Lieutenant Doctor. Ghardo was the doctor and surgeon for squads 10-20 but more often or not each trooper went to the doctor they bonded with the most during their time in the field hospital. Ghardo was one of those doctors that took time to understand and like but with days under his eye while staying in the antiseptic hotel; Hytow came to be friends with Ghardo.

Alen Ghardo, a man known to be very stern and unforgiving, was helping those wounded around the medical Chimera, from major cuts and broken bones, to the light scratch. As Hytow approached the middle-aged doctor, Ghardo looked up, caught his eye and gave Hytow a disapproving stare.

“What? It’s not like I tried to get hurt it just happens,” stated Hytow. “It just happens.”

A raised eyebrow was the response from Ghardo, as he reached into his medical bag for antiseptic solution and gauze.

“Rub off the dried blood and I will clean up the actual cut and send you back out to serve.”

“It’s nice to see you alive too,” responded Hytow, rubbing his ‘bloodburns’ off his face. “Happy?”

“Yes, thank you very much, makes my job easier,” said Ghardo as he applied the stringent to the wounds near Hytow’s temples. “Well…. How did you do?”

“Well at the start of the ambush I was looking out and spotted the leader. Got knocked out briefly, then went after him. Thyd killed him. And we got an idea of their strategy and a view of Fottree.”

“Hmm…. Well more work for me.”

“Any casualties?”

“Beyond the normal skirmishes, no. Not this time,” as he applied the bandage to the wound.

“Well it was nice to see your smiling face, Ghardo my old friend. When we get to make camp come find me and we will have a drink.”

“We will see. I am a busy man with many patients, but I will try to make time for you.”

“What more could I ask for? ... Oh wait I know your answer, no more frontline duty,” Hytow said with a laugh.

Bathle…

“Major Parkist, I want you and your Conqueror’s covering the three roads coming into town so we don’t have enemy armor coming in behind us to smash our asses to ground. And I want two of your vanquishers setting up on the highway, if we see them coming we can pick’em off at a distance since the road gives us a good kilometer of visibility down it. Captain Reef, take the however many scouts you need to cover the surrounding forest on the highway to give any warning of them if they are coming on foot through there. Squad leaders I want you and your men to make sure this place is locked down, we need it secure if we want to use this as headquarters for the high ups and as a staging ground. Company D, I want those squads on patrol for first shift. K and H I want you to follow in order for second and third shifts. Do we all understand each other?” spoke Colonel Cross.

A general assent of agreement followed.

“Well get to it gentlemen. The enemy is coming, and I would like to seen the morning. Dismissed….. Captain Reef, a word,” continued Cross, once the men left the command “center”, which was the first floor of a three story hab, a few hundred meters away from town center. “I want you to send out Graille and his men, he needs to pull them together because a large part of them have not had enough experience in the field and he hasn’t been tested to truly lead a squad. Send them out on their own but shadow them with your squad, so we don’t miss anything or lose anybody.”

“Yes sir,” responded Reef and glided out.

As the 12th and 41st set up in the town of Bathle, the night sky lit up in the direction of Fottree. The sky shone white then purple and then an ever changing myriad of colors. With a roar, similar to an entire flight of Valkyries, reaching the edges of Bathle, the physical lash of the light show wreaked havoc on the town. Buildings crumpled into ruins as if they suddenly experienced a month long barrage of enemy shells. Chimera’s and Conqueror’s tipped over like scared cattle. Men were thrown from their feet to land among others to break their fall, but some were unlucky to land and break their backs on the overturned and upright tanks. Trees bowed then broke under the force of the wind coming from the highway and Fottree, creating barriers and cover and pinning men beneath their fallen branches.

As the almighty gust swept past and a calm settled, a single howl arose from the forest. The single howl was followed by more, and screams and shrieks joined the din emanating from the trees. The 41st froze, gripped with the instinctual urge to howl along or run. Then a voice spoke from every squads voxcaster.

“May the fire for the emperor and pavnois not dim in your hearts and minds! Make ready for battle, for we defend the lives of the Imperium and of the brothers and sisters that fight beside us. Steel you minds and look towards the emperor for the strength and courage to pull you through. The enemy is upon our doorstep! Shut the door and bar their way! We are the men of pavonis! Let our fire consume the traitors and creatures to an everlasting inferno! To war Steel Eagles! To war!”

As the deep booming voice of Commissar Justice faded on the vox channel, cheers and yells took its place in the town. The speech was a classic from the commissar and always put the fire back in the men’s hearts. Orders were shouted and tanks roared to life, after being worked right side up, one by one. Over the vox net, Parkist ordered the tanks to the end of every street, to be ready to fire upon the distant tree line. Men moved trees act as barricades for all the streets the tanks couldn’t access and built cover in front of the tanks so when the tanks retreated, the Eagles could fire on the closing enemy. Squads with heavy weapons set up in blind alleys to reap the maximum amount of traitor and cultist lives. As the last of the preparations were set and everything ecept the howling and screaming, and the low rumble of idle engines, fell silent in wait.

The lone squad of scouts that were out when the column of light appeared, returned to Bathle as black and green shadows due to their camo capes. Coming in along the drainage ditch running alongside the highway, slipping past the outlying defenders they reported in to Captain Hammer of D company and Captain Idiwanning of F company. Both of who looked highly surprise and anger that the scouts slipped past their men covering the main road.

“What’s the situation out there,” asked Hammer. “How many of these bokkers will we put down like diseases grots?”

Scout Sergeant Graille, took off his mask so he could speak clearly. “Sir we estimated roughly 10,000 troops coming through the forest, about a third coming down along the sides of the road. We believe there might be Traitor guard among them as well.” Taking a swig from his water cask, mumbled. “And about 200 or so stalk tanks and half as many shoddy Demolishers coming straight down the road. The stalk tanks are coming in through the forest. We expect them to strike first.”

To rewind a bit. This bit is still the same battle but done by hour. I wrote this up for a writing assignment.

++Action: A345JLY7++

++ Begin Daily Record Recording++

++ It is the eighth hour of 345.764.M41. Bathle, Vaeracrus.++

++ With two thousand strong men, the lackey’s under the Warmaster felt that we could assault Fottree from the opposite direction that the main assault was coming. At first I thought it was a horrendous idea and would reduce the regiment by half if intelligence held true. But today I realize that we, the brave 41st, have the Emperor looking down on us and just granted us minor skirmishes so that we may assault Fottree as a full force and receive more glory. After arriving in Bathle last night, I will be able to get a good look of the land before we set off tomorrow. ++

++May the Emperor watch over us.++

++Col. Comm. A. Kross++

++Encode Level Designation: Jade ++

++End Action: A345JLY7++

As Colonel Commander Kross left his quarters, donning his jacket over his carapace armour, Trooper Russale presented him a data slate with the morning orders from Command HQ. The sun wasn’t even up but the little town of Bathle was stirring as the 3rd night watch shift ended and the morning shift came on. Kross was content with the fact that with the addition of a third night watch, the men on watch did not get overly worn out or fall asleep and the eyes on watch were on average more fresh to spot changes in the low light of night. Kross thought that maybe he would add another shift as the regiment got closer to Fottree, and maybe to overlap the shift changes so that not all watch positions were changed at once.

Kross had a great dislike for being caught unawares and unprepared. He felt that it was the downfall of the weaker elements of the Imperial Guard and that ordered discipline was the key to success. He repeated variations of this to his officers that they engrain that discipline into their companies and squads. He was an Eagle as an officer of the 4th Pavonis PDF and their motto was ‘always prepared’. Kross wanted his regiment under his command to be ever vigilant and ready to fight like a well-oiled machine that would fight to until the last breath took their souls to the Emperor’s side.

Communications Officer Bove approached Kross.

“Sir, in scanning the vox channels this morning. I came across an intermittent signal but during one of the clear moments I could make out ‘Bathle’, ‘41st ‘, and ‘Eagles’ on separate occasions,” Bove reported quickly. “I thought it needed to be brought to your attention a.s.a.p.”

“Thank you, Bove. Assign someone to keep listening to the channels you found. I will need you free to send a message to HQ if anything comes up.”

“Yes sir.”

“Wait, first raise HQ and ask for the most recent auspex scans of our immediate area from within the past two hours. I have an odd feeling about today.”

Picking out a trooper, “You! Go tell Major Tursk that I want his engines running ready and guns pointing downfield. Do not stop to chit chat. Come back to me once you report to him. Russale,” said Kross, as he turned to face him. “Find whatever officers you can and tell them to spread the word that I want company officers in my quarters in 15. War is beginning her terrible song.”

++ Ninth Hour++

“You have your orders. May the Emperor be with you! Dismissed!”

With that the officers and their adjutants left Kross’ presence to relay the orders to their own companies. All in the vain hope that they will be ready when the enemy strikes. The general order was simple: set kraks with det-tape on the northern half of town buildings so once tripped the rubble creates a clog and provide a chance to shoot down any enemies. The auto cannon heavy weapons teams were to set up in “hard” cover at the ends of alleys not targeted by explosives. The rest of the heavy weapons teams were to set up on the roads in tank support against infantry and any leftover traitor tanks down the roads. Companies T and U were given the northern approach to cover with heavy support from Assault Sentinel Company X. Scout Sentinel Company W were to patrol the outer fringes outsides the town limits. Scout Company K were to act as sentries on the main and secondary approaches to the town, with one squad covering the “exit” route to the south. The rest of the companies were divided evenly between the east and west of the town, overlapped and staggered to react as quickly as possible to any enemy push. With the few Pavonis 12th Armoured Division that were available, they were to go to cover in buildings just inside the explosive zone. And with the light of the Emperor shining for them they will survive the enemy onslaught coming within the next hour.

++Tenth Hour++

The whistling shriek of an incoming shell broke the maddening silence the 41st were waiting it. Once the first shell was shot, many more followed by an unnatural shrieks and snarling. The enemy has come knocking, thought Kross. With a signal to Commissar Justice Deap, the commissar got on the vox broadcasting to the entire regiment.

“Men of Pavonis, you hear death coming! Steel your minds and hearts in faith of the Emperor of Mankind, for when these heretics approach you, you do not drop you guard to their guiles but raise your arms and send them to the internal fire to suffer for their heretical ways! May they realize that we Steel Eagles do not falter and run but stand and destroy those who turn from the Emperor’s saving light. Onward brave eagles! And may you fight for the Emperor, Pavonis and your fellow Eagle until your dying breath!”

The enemy tank shells began raining down on the town, exploding and destroying buildings, taking only a few troopers not in cover, to the Emperor’s side. Then a unnatural screams and yells cut through the air as waves of exploding shells faded. The true battle begins, thought Kross. And on cue the 12th Armoured began to pick off tanks and the sounds of las fire began as stray streaks of bright red light started to flicker past Kross as he stood near the northern road with A company surrounding him, he is not a man to lead from behind.

Voxing ahead to the scouts, “I want you to pull back as soon as the enemy is clearly visible and we know where they are coming from,” said Kross. Opening up to all companies, “Once the scouts cross through the explosive zone detonate the buildings! If you see any movement before it clears, take it out! I don’t want any holes before we get started!”

Soon explosions were heard and Kross could see dust and rubble being thrown skyward. Good, he thought, the scouts are back. Then he could see the enemy marching down the road. And the Heavy Weapon teams begin to track them and opened fire. Las cannons, mortar, and heavy bolters ripped the marching column apart. As body parts flew and blood misted in the mid-morning light, a metal object landed in front of Kross. Bending down to pick it up, he noticed it was a regimental pin. Upon picking it up, he noticed it was deformed and altered. It showed a helmet with an eight pointed star embossed on the front of it and rusted swords crossed beneath it. The 23rd! The Bloodrusters! The true rivals of 41st, the traitors who turned their guns on the 41st when their leader Drake fell to the grip of Chaos.

“Gentlemen! The traitorous 23rd is our enemy today! Although our own blood stands against us, we must rid the stain of Chaos and avenge our fallen comrades that have fallen to their guns! Destroy them!”

In response, a thunder of gun fire, las fire, tanks shells and men yelling war cries swept through the ranks and any enemy within the sights of any Pavonis Steel Eagle was shot down in a merciless hail of fire. The gray and brown rubble was painted red in blood, the smell of ionized air hung over the battlefield from the las fire and a red mist hung with it. Smoke from enemy tanks drifted into the town laying claim to a rout. But Kross had an uneasy feeling that this was just the prelude to the real battle for today. Although they suffered many casualities and the 41st very few, from checking the data slate, the worst was yet to come. Otherwise why field tanks with only a thousand poorly trained men to back it up. To Kross it smacked of trickery but this time he would be better prepared and will come out on top with his command intact. And to put an exclamation on that thought, a dud tank shell landed at his feet. The seal of the 23rd emblazoned upon it.