Disclaimer; I don't own WH40K
Distant flashes and muffled booms of an artillery barrage broke the stillness of the night air. Rain was cascading down, cleansing the battlefield and stopping the carrion from their work.
The Lord Militant raised his head to the cool rain and let his worries and doubts go with the drops that streaked down his grimy face. Then it stopped.
Moisture hung in the air, and a distant thunderclap warned that rain would return. Sighing heavily he turned to his retinue.
"Follow me, and I promise you glory," hissed the hooded figure at the lord militants side. The psyker was bound, sanctified by the holy powers of the inquisition, yet the Lord Militant was hesitant.
The Lord Militant trusted them about as much as he could throw them, but they were integral to the Imperial war machine, and he knew first hand the damage they could cause.
"Are you afraid of death," hissed the psyker, unnatural mist rising from his blackened lips as he spoke.
"I am ready to die for him!" Spat the lord militant, raising a gauntleted hand to strike the psyker. Around him his loyal warriors, the 4th Cadian regiment, watched with weary eyes. They'd been fighting this war for too long.
Far too long, they had been caught in the meat grinder, a war of attrition never ending against the bastard enemy.
He let his hand fall, he hadn't the strength any more. None of the men had, three years on this desolate war zone saps the strength of anyone.
"What could you possibly know, psyker, that warrants such words," The Lord Militant finally spoke.
The psyker giggled hysterically, craning his neck to the heavens. The dark clouds above were swollen with rain, blotting out the sun.
"The key, to our salvation!" He finally gasped, before descending into hysterics again. Commissar Chrun unholstered his bolt pistol, the lord Militant gestured for him to halt.
"From the lightning and the tempest, Emperor deliver us," Whispered one of the men gathered around.
The lord Militant would believe anything now, stuck in this hell hole for three years, but so were the enemy, he mused. Anything was possible. He kissed the small Aquila that hung about his lips before approaching the psyker.
"What do we do,"
The psyker gazed up at him, somehow his empty eye sockets starring into the Lord Militant's soul.
"One final effort…is all that remains, let me show you, the way,"
The Lord Militant shrugged. The men began to murmur. Seven platoons and three Basilisk self-propelled guns were all that remained of the glorious fourth, and any reinforcements were engaged on Medusa V. They were alone, and stranded.
Command had forgotten about them, and added their names to the role of honour.
But again, so were the enemy.
He allowed a twisted smile to play across his face. Not like this, thought the Lord Militant. If they were all dead men walking, then by the emperors name they would earn their graves and anoint the enemy with their own blood.
"Form up men, there's work to be done!" He Bellowed.
The men hushed, and he took the time to look each in the eye.
"Nothing crushes the spirit of men, the Imperium overcomes, and we are the Imperium… Although the throne of Terra orbits a distant star far from here, the Emperors hand falls upon you today,"
The men began to cheer.
"To each of us falls a task, and all the Emperor requires of us guardsmen is that we stand the line, and we die fighting. It is what we do best, we die standing. In the Emperor's name, to the last man and the last round, we will fight, for Terra's golden throne, we will fight! Faith and duty, courage and Honour!"
The men echoed the company credo.
"They shall regret facing us, today is the day they will witness the glory of the Emperor through us!"
The men began to clap, several whistled, all cheered. Commissar Chrun nodded approvingly and raised the company standard, a Warrior grappling with a monstrous serpent.
"To me brave Cadians, the Emperor protects, no retreat no surrender!"
The guardsmen bellowed with him, and they readied their weapons
"For the Imperium of man! For the Emperor! Only in death does duty end!"
The lord militant drew his power sword and lit its disruptive field.
"Into the fray, follow men, Charge!"
They all answered his call, with bayonets fixed the several hundred guardsmen broke from cover and charged across no mans land, across the mounds of dead from both sides.
"Stop for no one you dogs! Try to make the Emperor proud!" Called Chrun.
The enemy lines opened up and several men fell, bodies crumpling, limbs spiralled off and men collapsed into pieces.
"Quit bleeding and fight!" Yelled Chrun, his voice one of rage.
The Lord Militant saw the panic clearly shown in the enemy lines. Laser blasts and solid rounds screamed through the air towards him. He laughed, he laughed right in death's face.
The psyker keep at his side, and he laughed too, his hood having fallen off his face, the true horror of his visage was revealed.
"In His name, WITNESS YOUR DOOM!" He screamed.
Arcs of lightning ripped forth from the man's eye sockets, so hot that the Lord Militant felt his hair singe. The enemy caught by its rippling currents were danced about like puppets or melted by the impossibly hot currents.
The psyker collapsed, smoke rising from his body.
There was no time to check on him, but he had opened the way. The lord militant leapt into the enemy trench line, his power sword humming. The first Tau raised its rifle to strike at the man. The power sword cut through both gun and operator. Commissar Chrun dropped into the trench beside him and ran through his foe with his fine sabre.
"What a glorious day to die!"
The lord Militant nodded his approval and both men continued to slash through the enemy. More and more guardsmen dropped into the trench, cutting down the xenos with disciplined Las fire or bayonet thrusts.
Tau melted back from the imperial advance, cutting down guardsmen with rifle fire.
"I'll rip your thoughts asunder!" Came the voice of the psyker and another arc of lightning bolted down and incinerated the fire warriors.
The psyker collapsed into the trench beside them, his face a bloody wreck. He was obviously dying. The lord Militant ignored the violence taking place around him and kneeled over the man.
"My thanks to you psyker, know that you have served the Emperor today,"
More fire whipped around the Lord Militant, and Chrun took a direct hit. His arm was blown off from the elbow down. He screamed in rage and grabbed the company standard in his other hand before it fell.
"The end is yet, to come," Hissed the psyker.
He gingerly and slowly got to his feet.
"Behold…glory and salvation!" He screamed as light emerged from his body and shone impossibly bright. The lord militant shielded his eyes from the light. The psyker dropped dead, his skin blackened and his veins burst, his blood had boiled.
The lord militant offered a silent prayer to the emperor before surveying the conflict around him. Guardsmen fought, fell and died against the Tau, who were committing more and more troops into the meat grinder.
In the distance, the thunderous report of artillery came. The Lord Militant watched the heavens, the psyker had been right. He had earned glory for both the regiment and the Lord Militant.
He smiled as the scream of shells tore through the air. They had broke the blockade, they'd won. The Lord Militant didn't register the blow that killed him, but he'd never been prouder of his men.