Space twitched. At first I wasn't noticeable, and then a bigger twitch, like someone's face before a sneeze. suddenly lightning flashed. only this lightning was 10,000 kilometres long and tinged an electric blue. a massive warp tinged thunderstorm shook space, until finally space tore open and the vessels of the Imperial navy pulled themselves out. First came the bloated forms of Bulk Landers, "whales" as they are known by common Guardsmen. Followed by their escort of light destroyers, Cobra's and Firestorm's, blade pointed and waspishly fast. next ships to pull themselves out of the Empyrean's embrace were the sprint cruisers, two Lunar class cruisers, Cardinal Marcellus and The Ironback, huge 5 kilometre juggernauts. The imposing form of the Blade of the Emperor, a colossal Emperor class battleship was last to pull herself from the Warp. Last to arrive and possibly the second most potent ship in the fleet was the Strike Cruiser Ignis Gladius of the Crimson Sabres Space Marine Chapter. Ahead lay the world of Tagia Viii, a peaceful Imperial colony that had recently fallen under the sway of the XV Legion; the Death Guard and their foul Daemonic allies. Such action could not go unpunished, for as slow and unwieldy as the Hammer of the Emperor is, the wheels of the Imperial war machine are always grinding ever onwards. Fifteen regiments of the Imperial Guard, no less than two point five million of the Imperium's fighting men and women. Twelve whole wings of Navy strike aircraft and one company of the Emperor's own Space Marines were poised to spill down upon the world. And as the first Landers and transports burn through the upper atmosphere, night began to turn to morning across Tagia Viii's frosty, heavily wooded surface.
Section 1: Descent.
The scene from orbit was one of pure, unrefined chaos. massive las blasts raced up from the planet trying to pluck the mighty ships of the Imperium from the firmament. the Ironback took position above one of the sub orbital guns and commenced the orbital bombardment. Vast stretches of forest burned under the anger of Imperial guns.
Finally the way was clear enough for the mass conveyance craft of the Imperial Guard to do their work. Vast whales opened their belly holds and birthed swarms of midnight black dropships and sent them racing for virgin atmosphere.
Leif grasped the straps of the acceleration chair with all his might, afraid if he didn't do so he would fall out of the thrashing Valkriye. He looked around him, he saw his squad mates, his brothers, shaking with the massive G-forces exerted upon them. From outside the gunships gunmetal grey hull the ear-raping howl of atmospheric insertion died away, replaced by the reassuring sound of thundering Imperial turbofans on full noise. A bone jarring jolt brought back the fear of death, as enemy Ack-Ack shook the sky.
"Sergeant Jaekr! How shall I prepare for war?!" asked Guardsman Baldr, his acne scarred, youthful features wracked with fear. Sergeant Loki Jaekr raised his unshaven head, his piercing blue eyes locked with Baldr's own terror stricken orbs.
"War, lad? Nothing can prepare 'ye for war itself, all I can tell you is make sure it is…" he pushed his finger into the young troopers chest. "Ye' make the other Barstard die first".
Suddenly a huge explosion shook the aircraft.
"Vampire One- Lead! This is Vampire Two- Two! Under heavy Anti Air fire! Requesting permission to break formation!"
A second huge detonation wracked the navy bird, causing strained oaths and prayers to erupt from the crew compartment, loose and unlashed gear tumbling about the cabin. Static crackled across the Vox and suddenly the panicked voice of Vampire Two- Three's pilot burst over the airwaves.
"Vampire One- Lead!, this is Two- Three! Two- Two is down! I repeat! Two- Two is down!"
"Hang on Two- Three! Follow me in! Evasive action in 3,2,1… go!"
Sergeant Jaekr barely had time to mutter "well, that doesn't sound good…" when the Valkriye rolled wing over wing and dove beak first toward the ground. The hostile AA continued to blast away at the two remaining Imperial gunships, their corroded barrels disgorging an unholy amount of ballistic fury.
"Any Station! Any Station! This is Vampire One- Lead! We are under heavy ground fire! Troop deployment is impossible at this time! Do you copy? We need those guns down!"
"Vampire One- Lead, this is Hammer of Wrath Lead, were rolling in hot from the north, hold on for a few more seconds!"
Just as the Vendetta's pilot broke radio contact, a scream echoed down the vox. Leif peered out the occuloport beside him and saw the nose and cockpit of Vampire Two- Two explode with tremendous force. The explosion suddenly grew as the wing tanks went up, its incandescent horror lighting up the night.
Suddenly over the sound of the guns and the screaming turbo fans Leif thought he heard something. The cargo bay door rolled to one side and the heavy bolter gunner stationed there let fly, the huge calibre munitions streaking down into the enemy AA emplacement. All of a sudden nine white/purple las-beams split the night, volley after volley hammering the AA, detonating ammo trucks and destroying the guns. And Leif saw, flying in close formation over the burning ruin of the emplacement, three Vendetta Gunships. Their midnight black hides concealing them in the darkness.
"Vampire One- Lead, this is Hammer of Wrath Lead, guns destroyed, troop deployment is a go, Hammer, out."
"Roger that Hammer, this is Vampire One- Lead, heading in for deployment."
And with that the Valk' turned north east, towards the rising sun.
"Vampire One- Lead, this is Oracle Six, landing sequence confirmed, you are to approach on track Alpha-Seven-Vermillion" rasped the voice of one of the Departamento Munitiorum officers in charge of the northern hemisphere landings. "Be aware Vampire, we have super heavies clogging most of the lanes down here, be prepared to wait"
"Rodger that Oracle Six, Vampire One- Lead out" remarked Vampire's pilot, twisting his craft into an orbital track around the landing fields.
High above the orbiting gunship three massive charcoal black super heavy transports burned through the lower atmosphere, their adamantine hulls blackened by countless atmospheric insertions in countless crusades across several centuries of Imperial service.
Leif watched them through his occuloport, craning his neck to an almost impossible angle to get a good glimpse of the massive Landers, their skyborne bulk being the biggest terrestrial thing he had seen in his entire life, next to the hive cluster he had grown up in back on Vyskaal.
The first of the three huge transports, Omnisiah's Guidance fired her huge landing stacks, white/blue plasma thrust cutting into her vaulting descent through the sky. She was closely followed by her sister ship Mother Agitha and the third ship, the ageing and decrepit In Purity Protected, her navy standard hull scorched blacker than most. Behind them a massive bulk freighter, Adamantine Resolve, straining in the low cloud with the huge prefab command bunker anchored to her swollen midsection. With a concussive roar of thrusters the 'Resolve slowed to a crawl and began her final approach. With a bone crunching impact the massive pre-packaged base touched Tagian dirt and within seconds swarms of Valkriye's in the colours of the Adeptus Mechanicus touched down all around it, Servitors and Priest's of the Machine god racing out to erect the formidable structure.
With a ear shattering boom, Omnisiah's Guidance dropped past Vampire One- Lead, her massive tonnage and acceleration throwing out massive shock waves that shook the small gunship and the fourteen men insider her.
Baldr didn't look to good, noticed Leif. His comrade was slowly turning a shade of green similar to the oak leaves back home. The young Guardsman reached for the sickbag tucked into the bulkhead above him, but it was too late, the poor man vomited the condensed remains of his meal over the steel grey floor. Many of the other members of the squad retracted their booted feet in disgust from the yellow/green bile slopping around the inside of their craft.
"Vampire One-Lead, you are cleared for landing, Oracle Six out"
With a throaty roar the belly jets of Vampire One- Lead fired, turning the snow covering the adhoc landing pad to boiling steam. With a dull metallic thud accompanied by the hiss of hydraulics, the maw like tail ramp of Vampire One- lead opened letting pure early morning sunlight into the dark cargo bay.
"Right men, grab 'ye gear, welcome to Tagia Viii" boomed Sergeant Jaekr grabbing his pack and Power axe from its storage point under his seat. Leif slung his Lasrifle over his shoulder and marched down the ramp, taking care not to step in Baldr's once meal. He took in his new surroundings. Tagia Viii didn't seem so different to Vyskaal, mused Leif; the sky was the same ash grey with the threat of snow; huge thickets of slender, spindly black trees. Leif glanced across the imperial camp. The monstrous tank Lander In Purity Protected, Wallowed in on its final approach, her huge belly jets straining in the dense lower atmosphere.
Her two sister ships were already on the ground, disembarkation ramps were down and already the tanks of the 253rd Nippon Heavy Armour were rolling out across the frozen tundra in perfect formation. The bulky hulls of their Leman Russ and Malcador pattern tanks; all a drab, shadowy grey apart from one, the command tank; a hulking Macharius Vanquisher, its hull a gleaming pearl white with a scarlet stylised rising sun stencilled across its entire flank. Leif knew little of the Nippon regiments they were fighting alongside, to the extent of his memory they came from a ocean world dotted by small islands, and their culture was a very martial one, most citizen holding honour as more important than anything. It was also known that they took defeat very seriously and higher ranking officers, Colonels, Majors and the like were known to take their own lives in the event of a dishonourable failure. He also knew of their fearsome war cry, which was played at deafening volume from hull mounted Vox hailers, and had been known to terrify entire rebellions into surrender; "BANZAI!"
"SQUAD! Form up!" yelled Sergeant Jaekr, breaking leif from his contemplative episode. Quickly Leif and the men of Third squad formed up behind their leader. Sergeant Jaekr lead them down onto the muddy earth of Tagia herself, the once pristine grasslands having been ripped up hundreds of fighting vehicles disgorged onto the planets surface.
Leif and his comrades began trekking across the huge landing fields to be with the rest of their regiment, the Vyskaal 212th, who had come down in separate Valkriye's and now all of the regimental elements were snaking their way to a meeting point. Huge rows of Heavy Infantry belonging to the 4178th Marcolan Grenadiers, their crimson carapace armour shining in the early morning sun, marched past; their orders having come in to move In on Polobski Minor, the closest settlement to the landing fields. Leif saw their Colonel, a one Johnah Severus Attica, a bulking forty seven year old with a flowing white moustache. The Colonel rode atop a huge crimson Hellhound, its armoured flanks displaying the emblem of the Marcola regiments, a huge black Dragon; its teeth bared and a plume of turquoise fire spewing from its mouth. He studied the Marcolan soldiers, their gear was mostly Krantel pattern, the same used by the famous Cadian shock troops, and so every single trooper could be mistaken for a Kasrkin, a Cadian Stormtrooper, and all came equipped as such, light grey Hell-guns with trailing blue power cords, were clutched in every hand and long curved war knives sheathed in every belt. Leif knew that the war knives were the regiment's trademark; curved and balanced enough to be thrown and supposedly, according to the Marcolans, the thrown knives always returned to the wielder.
With a scream of turbo fans on full auto a massive Marauder Destroyer shot above the guardsmen's heads, huge amounts of bombs strapped to hard points. Tilting its wing ever so slightly the massive thundering beast of an aircraft cleared the trees flanking the fields and shot off in the direction of Polobski Minor.
Up ahead Leif saw a familiar banner, the banner he had sworn to serve during his induction on Vyskaal. The huge black Vyskaali Sabre Lion fur pelt with the Imperial Eagle stitched across it swayed in the wind majestically. Leif stared at the huge piece of skin and fabric, the words "For the Emperor, For Vyskaal and the Legendaries" stitched in blood red cord across the huge super predator's skin.
The Legendaries it referred to were the Vyskaali heroes of old, noble warriors, heroic commanding officers and distinguished commissars who like Leif had left mother Vyskaal behind and joined regiments of the Imperial Guard, the Hammer of the Emperor. Although to become a Legendary one had to die first, and join in eternal battle at the Emperors side in the lofty plains of Yallhallous, the Vyskaali warrior's afterlife.
3rd squad came over a low hill and saw their entire regiment camped out before them, animal hide tents and primitive cooking fires totally at odds with the massive communications array that rose from next to the officers tent. Leif noticed a commotion over by the officer tent he saw Colonel Thobbé emerge and begin blowing into a small hand carved Imperial Mammoth tusk, the trumpeting noise echoing across the Vyskaali camp. Leif's blood raced in his veins, the signal to attack! The regiment was moving out. Leif and his kinsmen sprinted down the remainder of the hill quickly joining up with their platoon, "Lucky Ninth".