'Time to bring down the Heavens.'

-Colonel Valdevski, of the Celestian 10th Heavy Armoured

Regiment, during the defense of Vladovsk.

Chapter One

Thunder peeled through the sky. Rain fell in heavy torrents, drenching anyone unlucky enough to be caught outside. Trees bent over in the wind. Leaves flashed through the air. The sharp edge of a leaf slashed the cheek of the only man in sight, leaving a thin streak of blood. Grunting, the man turned away from the wind and pulled his coat tighter around him. Raucous laughter spilled out of a tavern across the street as a drunken guardsman stepped out into the rain. The man ignored both the tavern and the cursing guardsman and continued on his way. A car raced by, splashing muddy water on him. Cursing, he looked behind him to see if any other vehicles were nearby. He stepped towards the building next to him as a Chimera troop transport turned onto the street. As if the driver could read his thoughts, the Chimera pulled up to the curb and stopped. The assault ramp lowered and a friendly face popped out.

'Need a ride Colonel?'

The man nodded and stepped towards the APC. 'On a day like this? I think I'll walk and enjoy the weather.'

The men inside the troop compartment laughed. The sergeant at the ramp smiled and beckoned the colonel to get in. Sitting down in an empty seat, he looked around him. 'I don't recognize your unit.' He said.

The sergeant grinned and signaled the driver to continue. 'Celestian Eighty-First. We were founded about a year ago. Just arrived in the system.'

'Mechanized?'

The sergeant shook his head. 'Infantry sir.'

'What's your name, Sergeant?' the Colonel asked.

'Sergeant Kelthor, at your service sir.'

'Nice to meet you sergeant. I'm Colonel-'

The sergeant's grin broadened. 'Sorry to interrupt sir, but we know who you are. I'd be surprised if there was a single person on Celestal who hadn't heard of your crusade against the Tau in the Eastern Fringe.'

The Colonel grimaced. 'It wasn't my crusade. Lord Commander Belmund was in charge.'

'Well, either way, it's going to be an honour to fight alongside you sir.'

The Chimera slowed to a halt. 'Command HQ, your stop Colonel,' the driver shouted back.

'Thanks for the ride. Colonel Vorink walked down the Chimera's assault ramp and stopped. He looked around him as the transport drove away. Miraculously, the rain had lessened to a slight drizzle. Off to his right, a long line of Leman Russ MBTs stood silently in front of a row of Basilisk Heavy Artillery Tanks, their guns raised to the sky, as if saluting him. Vorink smiled as he saw the stylized ten on their hulls. The image of a Basilisk flew on a banner mounted on the front of the nearest Leman Russ. He walked up to the banner and brushed his fingertips against the wings of a soldier standing above the Basilisk. His eyes were fixed on those of the beautiful woman before him. Pitch-black, shoulder length hair framed a face that radiated sadness and determination. Piercing blue eyes stared back at Vorink. The soldier held a lasrifle in one hand, while in her left, she held the tags of fallen Guardsmen. Her armour was the exact replica of Vorink's, except for the silver Aquila in the centre of her breastplate. A white number ten stood out on her left shoulder pad. General Viltra, the founder of the Celestian Regiments, had died more than fifteen hundred years ago, and was now depicted on each and every Regimental Banner. In life, she had been hailed as a hero of the Imperium a thousand times over. In death, she led the armies of Celestal into countless war zones.

Remembering the reason for his trip, Vorink shook his head and walked into the command building. Nodding to those he passed, he made his way to the top floor and entered Lord Commander Belmund's private briefing chambers. An empty chair sat before an oak desk cluttered with papers. There was barely enough room for a mug half full of stale caffeine in one corner. Picts of various heroes of the crusade adorned the wall. Vorink stopped in his tracks as he recognized himself from twenty years ago. In the image, he was standing atop a Leman Russ, holding his banner high and giving the order to charge a horde of Chaos filth. He heard the door open behind him and snapped to attention.

'As you were, Colonel.'

Vorink moved his feet apart and clasped his hands behind his back. Belmund walked around to the other side of his desk and sat down. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.

'Well Vorink, the sooner this is over, the better, so, I'll just get straight to the point. The war here is over for you and your men. Command has recalled your regiment. Your to be sent home.'

Vorink stiffened. He felt as if he'd just been slapped. 'Sir? I'm not sure I understand.'

Belmund grinned. His smile was devoid of any happiness. 'Oh, I understand perfectly. The governor of your system wants the best Celestian regiments back home. Somehow, he got the support of the Seekers. Damned Astartes practically ordered your immediate withdrawal. I'd have been able to deny them, barely, but the paper-pushers at Segmentum Command agreed to it. So, get your men ready. You leave in two days.'

'But sir-'

'That wasn't a request Colonel. Dismissed.'

Vorink's jaw tightened. 'Yes, sir.' He did an about face and left the room. The troops weren't going to like this…

A heavy rain fell from the sky, drenching the ground and turning it into muddy rivers. Long lines of armour slowly made their ways up the ramps of massive beetle shaped troop-carriers. Five Baneblade Super-Heavies waited at the rear of the armoured columns. Hundreds of Leman Russ MBTs drove alongside hundreds more of Hellhounds, Demolishers, Hydra Flak guns, and Basilisks. The whine of engines increased. The ramp of the nearest troop-carrier withdrew back into the ship and the hatches eased shut, looking to Vorink like jaws of some massive warp-spawned filth. The downdraft caused by the ship's lifting nearly knocked him off his feet. Regaining his stance, he continued to watch the carriers slowly ascend into the sky. The loading of his regiment would take at least another hour. He didn't need to be a commissar to know the morale was low. He could tell the regiment hated the sudden recall. They all felt betrayed. The Tenth had never left a war unfinished. The men resented that they were being forced to now.

Vorink sighed. He turned around and boarded the waiting transport behind him. He stowed his gear in the alcove above his seat and sat down. Just before the hatches shut, he thought he could see the distant forms of Sergeant Kelthor and his squad, saying goodbye to the men they had thought were the heroes they'd be able to fight alongside. The transport lifted into the air and circled the pick-up zone, gaining altitude. The pilot straightened his course and left the planet behind them.