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This is a twelve part Guard/Navy story I'm working on. Will post more here as and when.


RANKS
1/12

High and Exalted War Marshal, Earl of Shoa, Viscounte of Bromnar, Fleetitian (Star Cluster 1st Class), Honored of the High Council of Holly Terra, Deliverer of Reespon, His Lord Evaron Resto VeDestar, had not felt this nervous since he was a young officer going into combat for the fist time. Not that he showed it one bit.
In-fact he was the epitome of calm as he sat examining his nails nonchalantly on his battle throne on the bridge of Emperors Justice. He had at his command 5,000 warships, and almost the same number of assorted support ships. About 750,000 troops, 80.000 tanks and 120,000 other vehicles that where granted to him by The High Lords of Terra. And all of it could be squandered on his great gambit.
He felt the eyes of his staff on him, awaiting his order, as he awaited the acknowledgement that the fleet, the whole fleet, was ready to drop from the warp. This was the only way his mad, crazy, unwarranted plan would work. At first his staff did not believe it possible, that the whole fleet, thousands of ships could drop from the warp into orbit around a planet. ‘Impossible’, ‘foolhardy’, ‘suicide’ where there responses, but the High and Exalted War Marshal had just one answer,
“It is my will.”

In that one sentence the fates of three million men where set on one path; victory or death.
The key was one man. An extraordinary psychic called Ambrose. Not only could he psychically link with thousands of others, he could also read the ebb and flow of the warp as a fisherman can read a stream. He would pass on his calculations to all the other ships psychics, and the fleet would fall on there prey as a dog falls on a rat.
In less than five minutes the whole fleet would drop into orbit between one and six hundred clicks from the surface of there target: Tessons Hive. As they drop, each ship would begin to ‘engage the ground’, the delightful naval term for firing every gun, rocket and mass driver they had at the planet below. The Tau would suffer, the Tau would tremble, the Tau would die. And so would the two billion Human scum who fell in with them. Then the planet would come back to the arms of the Emperor, and the fleet would move on in the cluster, bringing the Emperors light with it.
Or-
The whole fleet would dive bows first into the surface of the planet killing everyone and ripping a hole in the fabric of the warp a thousand light years wide.
That was why the High and Exalted War Marshal was nervous.

The bridge of Emperors Justice was a vast space, like a cathedral. Those of rank stood around an ornate pit, a hundred meters across, were Ambrose was confined in a tranz-glass chamber. He was naked, but for a loin cloth and he seemed to dance. The dance of the mad some said. His blind eyes would look up, down, left and right. His hands beckoned and repulsed unseen elements and forces. This was how he talked to the others, on all the other ships. The High and Exalted War Marshal watched from his throne, overlooking the pit. Thousands of souls worked here, calculating, communicating, planning and running the ship and fleet beyond. But only two mattered at this time, The High and Exalted War Marshal Evaron Resto VeDestar and the psychic Ambrose. It felt to VeDestar that all time had stopped, until he felt the tickle in his brain that Ambrose was seeking him out. He rose from his seat and awaited the signal.
“Now”
He shouted - not his words but Ambrose through him. For a fleeting moment he saw and felt what the forces that the psychic was channeling. The full force of the warp reached out to crush him but Ambrose broke the link, and fell to the floor of his pit.

On his word hell broke loose, orders flew, sirens and claxons sounded and his command staff began to reach out to there underlings across the fleet. VeDestar looked at the poor soul in the pit. He had begun to convulse with the unbridled power of the warp flowing through him. He reared up with a scream and looked VeDestar in the eye and mouthed two words before falling down dead-
“Thank you”.
“No, thank you”, thought The High and Exalted War Marshal.





RANKS
2/12

Grand Fleet Admiral, Fleetitian (Star Cluster 3rd Class), His Eminence Crosvon Hozog, had his hands full. The proximity claxon on the Implicit Vengeance had began to sound the moment the 12 kilometer long ship had dropped from the void of the warp.
“How long?” he shouted,
Fleet Captain Bestor, his second, the master of the ship was quick to answer as he looked over an Ensigns shoulder.
“Twelve minutes Your Eminence”, he turned to look at the Admiral and shook his head.
Crosvon Hozog cursed his luck. The 19th flotilla, twenty ships, was the van of the fleet.
Because of the insanity of the plan, the van was tightly packed. A spear pointed right at the middle of Tessons Hive. They would drop from the warp right above the planet and the fleet would envelope them. But they had dropped too close, only a thousand clicks, but too close. VeDestar pet psychic had placed them too close to stop in time. They could have swerved away but there was the danger of hitting the rest of the flotilla. No ship was less than 3 clicks apart, and then the rest of the fleet would fly into a vast fireball of vaporizing metal. What to do?

Hozog took a deep breath and came to a decision.

“Captain, shut that dam alarm off”
Silence fell,
“Right, call general quarters and get as much of the Guard away in the landers”
He raised his hand to silence the captain.
“I know we are traveling too fast but they will have a better chance in the small boats, Call the flotilla and have the escorts scatter at warp away from the path of the fleet.”
“What about Imperial Anger and Furious Retribution” said the Captain.
Hozog shook his head.
“They are with us”, he said.
“Admiral?”
“I intend to ram the planet”.
The blood drained from the Captains face.
“As you wish, Your Eminence”.
“I will be in my quarters for a short while, The bridge is yours”.

Briskly Hozog exited the bridge and made for his rooms. He intended to call Emperors Justice strait away but he crossed to his bed and picked up Eselthas picto from his side table. It was an old picture, but his favorite, the one taken the year of his commission in the Navy and betrothal to her.
“Not long now, my Love”, he said as he stroked it.
Gently he kissed it and, after a moment, placed it back, then crossed to his private comm. station. His message was brief; he had little time for pleasantries. He outlined his plan, wished all except The High and Exalted War Marshal well, recommended his staff for mention and posthumous promotion, and then signed off.

“How long?” he said as he returned to the bridge.
“Five minutes, Your Eminence” answered the Captain.
“Problems?”
“Many of the Guard are not ready to disembark, Your Eminence”.
“Well, they will reach the planet quicker if they stay with us, but not as they envisioned”.
“I will try to hurry them along”.
“No, no Captain. It’s to late now”. He sighed, “How Many got waay?”
“About a thousand, Your Eminence”.
“Pity.” said the Admiral. “Open the viewer, Captain”.
The forward viewer whined open to show Tessons Hive. It filled the screen and grew bigger.
The fire of the atmosphere blurred the view, but only for a moment.

A very interesting and new idea you have here. Looking forward to seeing how it all ends.

So, I have no life. Here is 3 & 4, quicker than I thought.

RANKS
3/12

Grand Field Obbermarshal, Barron Tresavit Velderof held on to the side of the holo-table as the Cruelty of Victory slowed from the warp. The naval officers had told him that there would be some buffeting as they exited the warp due to the proximity of all the ships of the fleet in such a confined space, but he did not expect it to feel like being in a Russ falling down a mountain. When the cacophony of screaming and grinding metal ceased, he looked at his naval liaison.
“On target and slowing sir. You may disembark your men.”
“Thank you Kommander. Rebisil, order the landers away”.
His adjutant bowed and called the lander deck.
When old VeDestar had told him of the strike plan he was impressed. When he spoke to the Navy his enthusiasm waned. Like most Guard, the mysteries of warp travel where beyond his ken, an arcane lore that he tried not to examine to closely less it take him. He was happy with mud on his boots. He was nervous of what he did not know, doubly so when those who should know, did not. And the Navy where not sure about this. But he was alive, his men where alive – for now, and he could get on with what he did best. Planetary assault.
“All the landers are away sir” said Obbermajor Rebisil.
“Good, good” said Velderof. His children where off on there great adventure. He wished he could have gone as well, but the High Lords did not like Grand Field Obbermarshal’s to die on the first day.
“Fleet reports that the landing field has been destroyed” said the Obbermajor, looking at a screen.
“What!” shouted Velderof.
He moved from the holo-table to see for himself. The report was there, but vague.
“Kommander?” said Velderof, turning to his liaison.
He was listening to a message on his headset, after a moment he turned and said,
”Implicit Vengeance has crashed”.
They all looked at the holo-table and saw a ghostly green image of an Imperial Retribution Class Battleship spike into the ground.
“Emporors mercy!” said Rebisil.
“Dropped from warp too close”, said the Kommander, “we have lost fifteen so far to that”.
“The landers are heading there right now, we must divert them at all costs” said Velderof.
He moved to the holo-table and pulled out the view. The image shrank as the scale decreased. Allover the map red domes indicated the impact points of the Imperial barrage. He searched for an alternate site to set down his 20,000 men. By the coast, there was a flat area that would suffice. It was further from there objective, but it was not at the heart of a plasmatic fire-storm.
“Here Obbermajor, we begin our war here. Kommander raise your barrage at this point.”
The Kommander noted the coordinates that Velderof indicated and began calling the ships assigned to the barrage at that point. Slowly, there where less and less red domes on the site, finally the barrage ceased.
“Sir, I have not been able to raise all the landers” said Rebisil.
“Who?” asked Velderof .
“The 1007 4th and 7th are not responding”.
Velderof watched the holo-table as ten flashing blue icons entered from the top. All but two changed course and made for the coast.
“They must change, they must!” said Rebisil.
“No.” said Velderof, “They may think the transmission was a Tau trick. They will carry on.”
“But the fires?”
“Tau trickery, an illusion.”
The icons sank into the inferno and disappeared. 4,000 men lost.
“I may be due a promotion” sighed Velderof.
“Sir?” said Rebisil.
“War Marshal VeDestar, when he was just a General, joked that promotion came with how many men you killed.”
“Xenos, surely?”
“No Obbermajor, your own men. Any artilleryman can kill 100,000 aliens with the striking of the launch node in the cab of a Death Strike transporter, but command comes from ordering your own men to die.”
The Obbermaster just stared at him.
“You put men’s souls in the grinder, turn the handle, and braid and medals come out the other side.”
Grand Field Obbermarshal, Barron Tresavit Velderof sank into a chair. Yes, tomorrow he may get promoted, but today he died a little.




RANKS
4/12

Fleet Captain, His Grace Eevin Thorick was satisfied with the day so far. All three of his Dauntless Light Cursers of the 2016th flotilla had made a successful drop. Devastators Chance had had a close encounter with a Battleship that had nearly rammed it, the warp iris had opened only 500 meters behind it, but Fleet Captain Groonvarner had deftly swerved away and the behemoth had roared by with easily 100 meters to spare. He would congratulate the Captain later. The Guard where finally away, he was not sorry to see the last of them, even the officers stank! Thankfully they had departed in short order. So, in the ten minutes since he had arrived at Tessons Hive, two of his three orders where done, arrive, tick! and survive, tick!
Now, stage three - destroy!
His orbit at 300 kilometers gave him a good view of the planet. His targets where locked in the cognition engines, he gave the order,
“Fire!”
He could feel the power unleash below him, the guns blazing and the missiles popping from there silos. Thank the Emperor how he loved this moment. It was the closest thing to godhood that a mortal man could have. Below on the surface he was changing the topography of the planet. Sculpting it with the raw power that was his to command. He was an artist of destruction.
As the world rolled slowly before him, his eyes came upon one of the hive towers. A spire 30 clicks high, covering a base 10 wide. Around it was a sprawling metropolis covering several hundred square kilometers.
How many lived, worked, loved and died there. No matter.
“Kommander, have the ships triangulate all weapons on this point.” He marked the edge of the spire on his display.
“As you command.” Said the Kommander, and relayed his orders to the other ships.
Within moments a fusillade was hitting his desired target with a ferocity that even shocked him.
“Astounding, is it not?” he said to all and sundry.
Whole sections were being blasted off the tower. To his eyes they looked like sparks, cast by a grinding wheel, but he knew they where in reality whole habs and factorum being blown free.
Suddenly, the tower slipped from the vertical.
“Did it move?” he asked no one in particular.
“Yes sir, some eight degrees.”
“I want that hive over!” he shouted, “bring it down!”
Now the tree would be chopped. With seeming greater intensity the firepower was focused at the same point. Missiles, guns and even torpedoes, all rained down on the base of the spire. Fire and explosions like the Cadian G\ate. Slowly it began to tilt further and further over. Finally, at the point of no return Thorick rose to his feet.
“All ships cease fire!”
The maelstrom of fire stopped, and slowly, inexorably, the tower fell over as one piece. It took over one minute to fall. Thirty kilometers of infected hive slammed into the ground, onto the city hive below, with the force of a small moon. At the last moment the momentum of the fall caused the top to break away, it bounced across the land, shattering and fracturing like some strange shard of crystal. The shockwaves traveled over the ground and caused even more destruction, like a wave on a pond when a pebble hits, except this pebble was several billions of tones. There was no fire, the winds blew all the fire away and the scene was enveloped in a vast, swirling dust cloud.
Someone gave a low whistle.
Thorick fell back into his seat; spent. Stage three complete, tick!.

You type it out, clean it up, post it. THEN you notice the bit with no italics and then the inverted coma in the wrong place.
Two edits!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRG!

Looks really good so far. It's nice to see the perspective of the captains of the Imperial Navy for bombardments. Anyways, keep it up!

RANKS
5/12

General of the Field, Vizicount, His Grace Pistada Rovalara III was slowly losing confidence in the wisdom of the strategy of this mission. His vast lander Coveted Prize IX was making a successful landing, but during the decent had nearly been hit by two Destroyers that had collided in orbit. They and there associated debris cloud had flown by at speed, only a kilometer distant, and careered away to the north east. The ships where locked together in a fiery dance of death as they fell, spinning and rolling to there doom.

All his men knew there orders, from the humble Guardsman to the Colonelas and Obbermajors. He was confident that they would perform there holly duty with the best due diligence they could muster. He just needed to get them there.
All six of his landing barges where on course to there ‘beach’ as the Navy called it, even though they where half a continent away from the sea. At the assigned altitude each one released 50 Valkyrie’s, each carrying assault units that would secure the ‘beach’ until the vast barges touched down.
“Vizicount” interrupted Kommander Trib, the barge’s master “landing parties are down and report only minor resistance; we have taken the scum by surprise.”
“Excellent!” said Rovalara, and turning to Nevis his A.D.C.; “Nevis, inform the assault decks we are about to land, give the word ’Good hunting’”.
Lieutenant Nevis grinned and said the words “As your will”, and turned to his station.
‘My will’, ‘Ha’, the phrase of High and Exalted War Marshal, His Lord Evaron Resto VeDestar, the man who planned this. He would most likely get a diamond cluster to
add to his Fleetitian (Star Cluster 1st Class).
“Thirty seconds to beach. All hands alert, all hands alert”, called Trib over the tannoy.
The retro thrusters and grav redactors kicked in and Coveted Prize IX shook and bucked as it fought the gravity well of the planet. The bolts sounded like they would pop from every surface the alarms did not drown out the screams from the engines and the grinding of metal on metal as the half kilometer, 90 meter high, hulk came to rest on the planet.
There was the sound of a massive drum, as the pads made contact with Tessons Hive. The engines cut and cycled down, the oleos whined to lower the barge to the surface and the assault hatches lowered.
General of the Field, Vizicount, His Grace Pistada Rovalara III could hear the faint sound of battle cries as his men disgorged to the field of honor, eighty decks below. He could make out the rumble of his armour as it rolled across the assault decks and down the ramps. He imagined the same on all the barges, not just his six but the thousands of others across the fleet.
“Sixty percent clear, Vizicount” said Nevis as he examined his screen.
“Incomeing!” shouted Trib with alarm.
Rovalara pushed away from his seat and scanned the bank of screens before him.
From the east, traveling at hyper-sonic speed was a rocket. No, a Tau missile, it was low, no more than twenty meters from the deck. It jinked and swerved as it approached. Tau deviousness to avoid lock on!
“Defensive fire!” called Trib to a subordinate.
The sound of ripping canvas filled the bridge as the barges auto-cannon began to fire. The other five barges joined in. Black streams of fire and metal spat out to try and bring down the threat.
“Lieutenant Nevis, have our Hydra and Manticore assist.” said Rovalara.
Nevis turned to his station and issued the orders.
“Fifty!” shouted Trib.
The Hydra and Manticore joined in, more metal was cast into the sky.
“Forty!”
The devilish contraption flew on.
“Thirty!”
The Manticores exploded casting a cloud of death around the Tau ordinance, a cloud it flew through unscaved.
“Twenty! Heading for Glorious Devastation V.
Rovalara looked at the ship in his screens. They had disembarked most of the men and armour but they where still to close to the doomed landing barge. He rose to his feet.
“Ten!.......Impact”
The missile flew right in the vast open maw of the landing deck at the front. Nothing happened
Then everything happened.
The explosion seemed to rip through every seam line on the front of the ship. The lander was four clicks away but the Coveted Prize IX rocked at the death throws of its sister. Men and machines where cast away like dust as the great barge rocked up at the blow. The sound of the retort could be heard through the hull. Secondary blasts ripped through the stricken ship. It seemed to lower itself down as it broke its back; the great wing slumped to the ground. The front was mostly gone. Little debris seemed to fall away to earth.
“Plasma warhead.” said the Lieutenant.
“Check for survivors Lieutenant. We need to disembark as soon as possible. Kommander Trib, once my flag is away I suggest you depart at your earliest convenience.”
The Naval officer bowed.

General of the Field, Vizicount, His Grace Pistada Rovalara III walked down the landing ramp of Coveted Prize IX onto the surface of Tessons Hive. The wind was blowing the burning smell from Glorious Devastation V towards him. He looked at the burning mass on the horizon and could not help thinking how appropriate the name was. He wondered if they would build a Glorious Devastation VI.
He shrugged and boarded his command Chimera.

RANKS
6/ 12

Kommander Echo Zar consulted his notes and maps. The 47th company of the 896th Deemolan regiment was well within the corridor of barrage that he had requested from his ship Imperial Repentance. As the assigned Officer of the Fleet, it was his job to ensure that a bubble of calm existed so his charges could do there work. Not one round from the fleet would come within 200 meters of ‘his’ men.

“To Horus with you Zar!” shouted Obbermajor LeMasson, “Lieutenant Kesvons platoon has just been wiped out, by your infernal Navy!”
Kommander Zar looked at the Obbermajor for a moment before consulting his ornate, portable ranging, cognition engine vox-caster. A mere 30 kilos strapped to his back, with an arm reaching around with a screen for him to consult.
“Lieutenant Kesvons has, sorry had, deviated from the path prescribed. You must ensure the lower orders do not leave the desired route, Obbermajor LeMasson. I and the Navy can take no responsibility for the Guards incompetence.”
The Obbermajor set his jaw hard and contemplated killing the Kommander right away. But he was the only one guiding the barrage, he was invulnerable. If he was to die then the whole unit could be wiped out by there own side.
‘Own side’ Ha.
There where tree forces at arms on this world, The Guard, the Navy and the Tau. The Tau where just a sideshow to LeMasson.
He turned and left Zar to his work. Zar watched him leave and shook his head.
‘Insufferable man’ he thought. The Guard where so uncouth; vulgarians and brigands of the highest order. No idea of manners and etiquette, no breeding, nothing that would allow them into polite society.

No matter, the job at hand.

The objective was Finzars Spire. One of the smaller hive towers on the southern continent. The landing barge had dropped them twenty-one kilometers away and they had been making good progress through the ground hive in the last three quarters of the hour. The barrage was some two kilometers ahead and creeping forward at the regulation pace. Collosus and Demolisher tanks were in the van, removing any remaining resistance. The unit’s Punishers and flame tanks where on the flanks to ensure that there would be no enemy enfilade. Zar was happy at the progress. Soon he could return to Imperial Repentance and leave the green monkeys to there labours; he needed a bath. Now, the barrage was lifting slightly. Outside Imperial Repentance zone was the responsibility of other vessels, outside his command. They must have been tasked with new duties.
In the distance, some ten kilometers away an intense barrage was being aimed at the base of the spire. A colossal amount of fire was being poured into the hive.
“What’s going on!?” shouted LeMasson.
Zar had no idea. He hated not knowing in front of LeMasson.
“You know that’s where we are headed, Kommander, I don’t want to attack that Hive with a thousand sappers in front of me, clearing the rubble away!”
“There will be a tactical reason Obbermajor. Take heart that the Navy is here to assist your passage.” said Zar, as he franticly tried to contact the fleet to find out what was going on.
Suddenly, above the noise of the barrage, there was a boom.
A sound nobody had heard before – ever.
A boom and a crack, like a rod of steel a kilometer thick being snapped. The sound reverberated across the land. Everything seemed to stop. It even drowned out the barrage that surrounded them.
“Zar!” said LeMasson.
It was not so much a question as a plea.
“I have no idea.” said Zar, with all honesty.
All eyes where on the spire. Not a shot was fired by the company. Even Imperial Repentance seemed to have given up Now the only fire was directed at the base of the hive.
Then it stopped.
“Zar?”
Now there was a ripping sound. Not of parchment or cloth but of steel and rock and concrete and glass. The shadow cast by the hive seemed to move.
“Its coming down Zar, its coming down!” screamed LeMasson.

It was indeed. Whatever LeMasson said after that was lost, the screams of the Guard where lost, there prayers, lost. The only sound Zar could hear was the sound of Finzars Spire crashing to earth, another sound that nobody had ever heard – ever. A sound that was almost physical in its force; carried on a hurricane emanating from where the collapsing tower met the earth. It was getting hard to stand in the gail. Zar looked up and saw the hive was above him. Looming in the sky and traveling at an incredible speed. The top broke loose and also fell away.
“By the Emperor, that has to be four kilometers long. Remarkable.” He thought.
An instant later the wave front of destruction caught up with him.

RANKS
7/12

Obbermajor Eevin TeReesmal observed the Tau tanks through his field glasses. Five Hammerheads, two Sky Rays and eight, no, nine Develfish, not to mention a shed load of troops and those accursed battlesuites. They where right in his path.
He sank back behind the cover afforded by the debris and rubble and rubbed his head.
“How does it look, sir?”
The Obbermajor looked at the questioner, Trooper Higot, his vox-caster, who lost his vox-caster.
“Not good Higot, not good”
“Any chance of side stepping them?” asked Sergeant Lark, a good right arm man to have in a fight, whose right arm was in a sling.
The Obbermajor turned to take another look but immediately ducked back down.
“Scatter - gundrone!”
All six of the group dived for cover as the drones roared over head, one of the three paused a moment, scaned the area, then continued after its kin.
The group rallied on the Obbermajor who beckoned them to the cover of a hab block. He made sure they all got in and scaned the area for any watching Tau.
“Tesson, Roud, Higot, guard the door and window.”
The others stood around the Obbermajor awaiting orders. Orders, ha, he had been making this all up on the spot ever since his Valkyrie was downed. He did think he was going to die a quick and fiery death in the crash but the pilot had crash-landed the craft and slid it 40 meters along the ground until it hit a factorum wall. What was left of his staff made a hasty exit through the rear ramp. They would have returned for the others, but the collapsing factorum wall put paid to that. Some force. Three Guardsmen, an injured Sergeant, and one of the door gunners from the Valkyrie, Passonva, and himself. All about 25 clicks behind the lines and with no way of getting rescued. Even if they still had a vox, this site was crawling with Tau.
“We wait here for nightfall, and then make a run to the north. With luck the regiment will have moved some way to meet us.”

So they spent the next five hours in there makeshift shelter, The Obbermajor ordered everyone to get some rest, although nobody could sleep. With one guard at the door at all times they all took turns watching. Not much happened. The barrage was intermittent, two Devilfish flew by, and some Tau where seen in the distance. That enormous fire to the south continued to burn and cast an eerie glow across the hive.
At dusk they all prepared. Ammo was checked, straps tightened, and everyone did there toilet in a side room. They where ready to take what they had, and leave what they didn’t.
“Okay, let’s go.”
At the door, the Obbermajor peered out into the still night, broke cover, and ran across the street. Tesson, Passonva, the Sergeant, Roud and Higot followed. Then they made for there next refuge, then there next, always in silence, and always to the north. This went on for two hours until they made it to a factorum. They went up to the third floor to rest and take stock of the situation.
“Rest here men.” said the Obbermajor.
He went to a window and looked out at the shattered city scape they had just traversed.
“Sir,” said the sergeant, “Have you noticed there’s no gunfire?”
He hadn’t, but now the Sergeant said it, he did notice how still it was. Surely there should have been some sound from the front. He went to the factorum door and took off his helmet, nothing, just the sound of the wind. Had the landing gone ahead? Had the invasion gone ahead?
“Passonva, what was our last coordinates, where we came down?”
“99, 45, 455 by 00, 03,665 or thereabouts.” said the gunner.
“That’s right, just north of the invasion site, so where is the regiment, where are they?”

Colonela Orvod entered the tent attached at the rear of the command Chimera and looked at the dispatches.
“Still no word from the Obbermajor, sir?” said Lieutenant Trigviddon,
“None I’m afraid.” said Orvod, shaking his head “I think his Valkyrie went to the original landing site. His pilot may not have known to come to the coast.”
The Lieutenant gave a grimace.
“No matter, I’ve contacted command and they have granted me authority to take over.
The war will go on.”

You take STOCK of the situation. Not sock!
1 edit.

RANKS
8/12

Wing Leader (Air Fleet), Dee-Mal “Razor” Chestor had the largest smile on his face, not that anybody could see it behind his breathing-vox mask.
“Good day to be alive, Gervine!” he called to his backseater.
“Ahh,ha, sir.” was the absent minded reply.
Chestor liked flying with Gervine, he knew his job and did not bother him with every little detail. He did his job and only interrupted the ‘boss’ when he needed to. This left Chestor with flying the Valkyrie into a storm of trouble, and out he other side. He checked his cargo, fourteen Drop troopers where sitting in the hold with the gunner Fensal. Back on Emperors Reprisal he had to chose which of the gunners to take on the job, so he had them run a lap around the drop deck in full kit to see who would go.. Fensal lost out to Nethbow, the Wing Leader walked over to the two panting men and shook there water canteens. Nethbow’s was empty.
“I said full kit.”
Nethbow was back on the ship ruminating on his casual mistake. He wouldn’t make it again.
A quick check on the dar showed that the whole wing was still with him, 45 Valks with a similar cargo to his. There target was the main hive on the planet: The Governors private lander pad to be precise.
“Razor wing! Keep tight, as we planned. Keep a look-out. Twenty clicks and closing – out.” he said over the inter-ship vox.
The spire was a massive structure, easily 70 kilometers high. The target was 60 clicks up. The problem with any spire landing was the wind. At this altitude there could be 30 or 40 KPH cross winds, and they didn’t have the luxury of choosing there approach vector. This would mean that they may have to deal with wind sheer. The Valkyrie was a good bird, but it did not like coming into a hover landing in a 40 KPH hurricane with the wind blowing over anything but the bows. They could do this, but the Emperor would need to be watching and thinking good thoughts.
All this was going through the Wing Leader’s mind, when they came within 4 clicks of the drop off point.
“It’s not there.” said Chestor.
“What, sir?”
“The pads gone, it’s been blown away”
Where there should have been a landing pad, there was just broken and twisted metal and concrete. The pad had been blown clear to drop to the surface leaving only a scar on the side of the spire behind.
“The Tau have blown the pad. Razor wing, disengage, disengage!”
All the ships broke away and began to circle. A veritable shooting gallery if anyone was watching. The Wing Leader began to franticly try to think of a plan B, when the internal vox came on, it was Fensal.
“Sir, the Major has an idea.”
“Put him on.”
There was some fumbling before Major Geeverdo of the 349th Elysian came on the vox.
“There may be a landing site four clicks up on the west side.”
“Four clicks is quite a hike!”
“I’d rather hike down than up.”
The Wing Leader smiled and throttled up and flew around the tower. Sure enough, there was a landing pad but small, barely enough for an Arvus Lighter, never mind a Valkyrie.
‘This will be tricky’, he thought.
“Razor wing, on me.” He called as he assessed the situation.
This side of the tower was sheltered from direct wind but there was a considerable down draft. The only way, was to come in bows first, balance on the nose skid hanging the rear out into space, and exit the troops through the side doors. The commander put on more than usual throttle, counteracting the down draft and slowly, ever so slowly, edged in. Not without some relief he felt the skid scrape on the deck.
“Get them out Fensal!” he shouted.
The troopers ran out the side hatches and towards the pad doors.
“All gone, sir!” called the gunner and the Wing Leader applied more power. He watched the altograph read out height.
1 meter, 4 meters, 8 meters, 65 kilometers.
He was clear. He rolled and turned, the Valkyrie cleared the improvised invasion site.
“In order, people. But don’t crowd them; let the first squad breach the doors. Do as I did, and watch the down gust, and whatever you do, do not ram into the wall!”
As he pulled up the second in the wing was making its approach. After him the next, then the next. In 25 minutes the whole unit was placed on the pad and inside the hive, to meet whatever nightmares the traitors and the Tau had in store for them. As they returned to Emperors Reprisal the Wing Leader hoped that everyone in the war was having as good a day as he was.

RANKS
9/12

Lieutenant Crebrib DeKiz was having the worst day of his life. He had a simple deal with his men. ‘Follow my order and I won’t get you killed’. Every order he gave was getting someone killed, and not as he hoped, the Tau. Every street, every intersection, was costing him half a squad. And it was not just the Tau, the human population of this accursed rock where all allied with them. Billions of humans and, say a million Tau and the Empire brings less than a million troops. The barrage by the navy had visited this area, but not enough of it. There were too many hiding holes, sniper points and ambushes sites to say that this was going to be as easy as the brass believed it will be. Making there way to the square in front of the Imperial Cathedra was not going to be easy.
From above came the shriek of a naval round. It punched into the ground two blocks away. As the dust cleared a Tau tank was revealed.
“Get me an A.T. round up here, now!” called the Lieutenant.
Trooper Holvok ran up with a missile launcher and aimed at the tank.
He fired and the round punched into the side of the beast. It exploded in a brilliant fireball. The cupola spun up into the air and fell back onto the vehicle. Everyone was cheering and shouting praise at Holvok when a sniper shot him down. He nearly somersaulted when the round hit him in the head. Everyone stared at the lifeless body.
‘This can’t go on’ thought the Lieutenant.
“Sergeant,” called the Lieutenant, “we must get in some cover.”
The Lieutenant indicated a factorum and they entered and spread out. It was some type of canning plant, lots of hiding places for the enemy, little better than the street, but somehow seeming safer. They filtered through the building to the back wall and regrouped. The Lieutenant checked his map.
“There are hab blocks on the other side of this wall. Sergeant, how many breeching charges do we have?”
So they set about advancing through the architecture, one wall at a time until they made it to the end of the street. In threes and fours they ran over the road to the buildings opposite, and began the process all over again. Until the next street, then run again. Four blocks later they where in the building across from the Cathedra. The Lieutenant scanned the square and pondered. The square was 100 meters wide and a perfect killing ground. The Tau must have the whole area crisscrossed with hidden weapon nests, mines or other nastys. He went into a side room with his vox caster and outlaid his plans to command.

Within the hour a couple of squads had brought up the 50 conscripts from the agre world of Moofa. Some showed bravado, others where not hiding there terror.
“Listen men,” the Lieutenant said, “now is your day of destiny. Today you shed your status as conscripts, today you become Guardsmen, the ultimate achievement of a mortal man. You have the honor of retaking the Emperors Holly Basilica. Do not fail him.” he gave a nod of encouragement, they smiled back. The yokels fell for it.
Ten minutes later they where lined up at the doors and windows. The grenade launchers would signal the off.
“Fire!” screamed the Lieutenant, and six grenades where shot across the square.
Before they landed, the lambs ran to the slaughter, screaming battle cries and obscenities, they ran to there doom. The Guardsmen moved to the windows. Not to watch the glorious charge, but rather to observe the Tau fire points. But none was given. The conscripts ran up the stairs at the front of the Cathedra and stormed the doors. There screams receded as they rampaged through the mighty building.
Lieutenant Crebrib DeKiz could not believe his luck.
“Attack, attack, attack.” He shouted and his whole command ran across the square. The hail of plasma fire, ion cannon, flamer and burst cannon ripped them down in seconds.
Gun drones swooped in to finish off the survivors.

If anyone outside was alive they would have seen the mighty blue flash and bang from inside the Cathedra

RANKS
10/12

Raith Sergeant Ivit “Iron Guts” Chen held on to the cupola rim of his Leman Russ as it climbed the river bank, and broke through the balustrade at the top that separated the road from the steep incline. The tank turned to the left and rumbled down the street. He turned to see the four other remaining tanks of his unit following him.
“Keep awake boys!” he shouted through the inter-tank vox.
The other commanders called back in acknowledgement. The street was wide with tall buildings to there right. They came to an intersection where some ground units where hiding. A man came running up waving.
“Whoooa!” shouted Chen to the drive, as the Russ rumbled to a halt.
“Goodrine, 9-478th.” called the man as he climbed up with his hand out.
“Chen, Rokane 12th Armored,” he replied, shaking it, “got a problem?”
“Yea, two Tau tanks 400 meters up that street; they are good shots, wiped out our Demolisher with one shot.”
“Lets have a look then.” He said climbing out.
Chen walked to the edge of the street and peered around. There were two Hammerheads at the far end of the street, one with a railgun, the other with an ion cannon. Halfway down the street was the remains of the Demolisher, burning merrily
“Well?” said Goodrine.
“Tricky, but possible.”
Chen walked back to his tank and formulated a plan. He climbed up and re-connected his vox leads. In less than five minutes everyone knew what they had to do.
Vibber and Shokeel gunned the engines of there machines and made a run across the intersection. There turrets where turned to the right, they fired blindly up the street.
The Tau were quick to reply, but there shots missed.
.”Now!” shouted Chen and the Russ lumbered into position.
The turret was turned. As the tank cleared its blind the gunner fired. The A.P. round hit the ion tank and it blew up in a spectacular ball of flame.
“Again!” he shouted.
As the gunner reloaded, Fomell, who had followed him, fired at the other Tau. He missed, as his target reversed into the wreckage of a building.
“After him!” shouted Chen. The driver set off up the street.
Fomell was behind him, then Vibber and Shokeel, who had turned and joined them. Zaham took the rear guard. Goodrine’s infantry came with them, either behind the tanks or in the shadows of the buildings.
“Clear for H.E.” said Chen and the gun fired the A.P. round into the devastated building.
The H.E. round was already being loaded as it hit and the gunner aimed at the breach in the wall. Again he fired and reloaded, and again. Six rounds brought the structure down in a pawl of dust that rolled across the street at walking pace.
Chen dismounted and slowly approached the scene. The acrid dust hung in the still air as he walked to the site of devastation. The Tau was not there. It had escaped through the other side.
Chen cursed; where was it now?
He ran back to his tank.
“Call Zaham, tell him to turn, it might have slipped behind us.”
As he ran to Goodrine he could hear Zaham’s tank turning at the rear of the column. Then the explosion, a vast retort as Zaham’s Russ blew up. He looked and saw the turret had been thrown into the sky. End over end it tumbled, then slowed, stopped and fell back on the burning hull. The wreck was next to the Demolisher. There retreat was blocked. The infantry fired at the Tau tank, but laz rifles were no match.
Chen ran to his tank but a blast blew him off his feet and back several meters. He landed and slid over the road into the gutter. He could feel the heat from the blast on his face. His ears made a curious whistling sound. He felt nauseas. Hands grabbed at him and dragged him up and to the side wall.
“Ambush!” shouted an infantry sergeant.
High above on the roofs figures where firing down on them.
The remaining tanks were trapped. There advance and retreat blocked by there fallen comrades. Now with most of his wits back, Chen searched for an escape. The wall he was leaning against was a factorum. He looked through a window to see that it was vacant. This was there only escape.
“Cover me!” he shouted as he ran to Fomell’s tank.
He scaled the side and banged on the hatch. Fomell opened it. Chen went in head first; even as the crew was struggling to right him he was issuing orders.
“Through the wall to the left.” he called out.
The tank swung around and crashed into the factorum. Infantry and Vibber followed through the hole. Shokeel blew up in the street.

They crashed through another wall and turned right onto an adjacent street and made there way back to the river. They where back almost where they had started. Two tanks out of five and about half the infantry, gone. This was not the easy invasion that the brass had imagined.

Here are the last two instalments.



RANKS
11/12

Trooper Veego Andhar could feel that the meds were wearing off. That was a bad sign. Because his leg was ripped open from the ankle to the knee. The gash was deep. He thought he saw bone but he did not like to look at it. It made him sick. It made him faint at first, but the rat, (or whatever took up that knish on this planet), nibbling his leg that roused him, made him steel himself to his situation.
This planet was a hellish place. He came from a hive, but a week of bombardment had blown most recognizable features away. Not many buildings had roofs - or all there walls. Fires burned everywhere, even the mighty spires that they had come to take back for the GodEmperor where pockmarked and burning in places.

His unit had landed three metramiles to the south and had come under fire from the Tau and the traitors immediately. They had rendezvoused with there amour and began the long slog to there objective. What they had been told would take four hours had instead taken most of the day. They bivied in the wreck of a hab. They where surrounded there with the meager positions of its former occupants. Beds in the small rooms, a picot off a family, meager furniture and clothes, some tinned food: unknown contents. The Lutella had said that it was safe to eat but nobody tried any. In the distance the war raged on.
The following morning they set off again. Now, there where snipers. Not Tau but traitors. Hidden in the wreckage of there former hive. Seven troops had been cut down by noon. The flamers had a hot day burning them out. The Commissar killed a man for dispatching a burning traitor. He said that he was interfering with the GodEmperors justice and retribution. By late afternoon they where about 400 metayards from where Andhar now lay. That was where the Tau sprung there trap. Twenty or so of there soldiers appeared over a rise of rubble and shot at them. They disappeared in the time it took the Russ to traverse its turret. The Lutella shouted an order and the whole of Andhar’s squad ran after them up the bank. At the top they looked for the Tau, but they had vanished. The sergeant turned to report to the Lutella but instead shouted for everyone to get down. The air seemed to fill with a banshees scream. From his place in the dirt Andhar did not see what happened but he heard the blast and felt the ground convulse under his body.

He would have stayed there if he had not been hauled from his repose. They where everywhere. Tau and traitors seemed to be at every window and at every corner. The squad and the ruminants of the unit ran for cover, but there was none. It seemed with every step someone else was cut down. Strangely there where no ricochets, every shot seemed to find its mark. An explosion from a grenade knocked Andhar from his feet. Half conscious he was dragged into a doorway. His helper was shot, and Andhar, in a pain he had never imagined existing, pulled his body upright. He reached for his med pack and retrieved a dose bulb and stuck the needle into his leg. Immediately the pain gave way to a warm glow. Some time after the fighting had ended, he looked at his wound. That was when he fainted and had his encounter with the rat.

It all seemed so long ago now. Four bulbs ago – he measured time in bulbs now. Almost a day in old time. He had seen a lot. The rats coming for the dead. Eating there fill and walking off, or fighting over his friends remains. One sat a while and watched him, then preened its-self and trotted off on other business. He looked at his last bulb, rolled it in his hand, and decided to try and save it for as long as he could, once that was gone there was only his long laz. He would endeavor to try and forgo feeding the rats for as long as possible.



RANKS
12/12

Conscript Ricold removed the reading glasses from his nose and rubbed the sides where they rested. He leaned back in his desk chair and took a moment away from his computation engine. The gentle knock on the door caused him to look up. His grand daughter Fisera entered the room.
“Good evening Grampy”, she said as she entered the room.
She came around behind him and kissed him on his bald head.
“A package was delivered for you”, she said as she held an ornately wrapped small package before him.
“Thank you my dear.” He said as he took the small box and rolled it over in his hands.
“Open it then.” She said impatiently.
“How you expect to become a historian I don’t know,” he said “you have no patience.”
“This is right before me, not buried in the texts.” She blew a kiss on his head making a rude sound.
“Just like your mooter - and your mampy for that matter. No patience.”
He put the box on the table as she walked to the far side of the desk. She was beautiful, his pride and joy. Hair black like his late wife’s, tall and elegant, just like her mother. She sat down and looked at him.
“How are the texts coming along?” she said nodding at the computation engine.
“Well.” He said, “Finishing the last chapter.”
“What’s the one?” she enquired.
“The hardest one.” He replied, “The Cathedra.”
He could see the concern in her face. He smiled at her.
“It was a long, long time ago.” He said soothingly.
“Was it really as bad as they say?” she asked.
“Many good men died that day.” he sighed “Too many good men.”
She shook and bowed her head.
“I will never understand….” She grasped for the word, “why.”
“They did not know, brainwashed. So was I, then.”
Terrorized and brainwashed. Corrupted by the false god that was the Emperor. Led by equally terrorized and brainwashed men into the maelstrom of war. Ricold thought of his life then. How he had been plucked from his home world in the muster. Seventeen years old. Taken from his grieving family, they would never see or hear from him again. Packed onto a vast barge and flown to Tessons Hive, a traitor world they said.
The fools, he knew now they had thrown off there shackles for the Greater Good. They paid though. Paid dearly.
Ricold’s unit was the Banthato 2040th. Hastily trained on the barge, not in tactics – those would not be needed, but rather in the basic operation of a long laz and bayonet. Now, he knew that they where a cruel sacrifice to the Imperiums lust for war and blood. Back then they where it’s loyal servants. They had stormed the Cathedra like lions, screaming and baying for alien blood, all to make the rotting corpse of an emperor proud. In through the great steel doors they ran, then….

Bang.

Ricold awoke some days latter in a prison camp; he had never heard of such a thing, why would you keep the enemy as prisoners?
They where well fed, the best meal since Banthato. They washed in hot, not tepid, water. Then one day a Tau came to speak to them. The offer was simple; they could join the Tau Empire as free men, or die. Half chose to join. Half where shot that afternoon.
Ricold and the living half where flown away that week through the battle in orbit and on, to a Tau world, where there where Humans. Not like at home, really free.
There he met Charnet, the woman who would become his wife and companion for over sixty years. In the re-education center the Tau recognized his intelligence and nourished it. He became a student of history. Later he joined a great institution where he became a teacher of Human Culture and history. He taught all over the Empire. Not just Tau and Humans where his pupils, but the dozens off creatures that made up the Empire. He retired a respected and valued member of society. Now he could write his master work; a history of the Tessons Hive War.

“Grampy,” said his grand daughter, “what’s in the box?”
He laughed and reached for it.
“Ohh, all right!” he said.
He removed the ornate wrapping and looked at the little wooden box and gasped.
“Grampy!”
He handed her the box and read the note that came with it.


Greetings Old Friend,
I am well and I hope this letter finds you similarly
disposed. Forgive this short note, but time here is
precious and the excavation of the Imperium’s
command bunker is taking more time than we
envisioned.
We have found the last stand of the High and Exalted
War Marshal , His Lord Evaron Resto VeDestar.
I can hardly believe this myself, but here is proof.
As you can see, this box holds the Fleetitian (Star
Cluster 1st Class) that I removed personally from
around the corpses neck. Helical strand analyses
confirms its identity. I will send you the reports for
review in all good time.
I, and the group, think there is no better person
than you to hold this item.

With wishes
Ver Sha Te’Tau Shovah


For Ricold, at last, it was over.


---------------THE END-----------------------------------------------




Thanks for taking the time to read this. Please post any coments or ctts below.

An interesting conclusion. I was waiting to see who would win the war, though I assumed it would be Tau since the Imperial's seemed to be getting their hides handed to them most of the time.
Still, I really liked the idea of a warp insertion at close range to a planet.

I always remember the scene in 'The Longest Day' when the fleet comes out of the fog. How would you do a suprise attack on a planet? Give them no time to react, smother them. But this can go wrong if your cognition engine drops a decimal place resulting in an almighty pile up - think 'Blues Brothers' chase with 12km starships instead of Chicago's finest and there squad cars. Even at its best, with only a few % loss, its gonna be a s*** day for someone!

In this case, a poor, poor day for the poor guardsmen.