Srgt. Corren double checked his sync to the Battlenet as his pod was secured for drop. Inside was Squad Purgation of the Purple Dragons 19th company. Corren examined each and every member of his squad within the drop pod, knowing all of their histories, each as mighty as the next. All within were veterans of many campaigns, and all had earned the title Sternguard. However only three were of the 1st company.
To his immediate left was Eckhart, the squads Deathwatch veteran. His service to the Imperium had been long, overshadowing even Correns illustrious career in the chapter, and his many honors could be seen marking his armor and weapons. The greatest mark was the Incinerator that was maglocked to his side, a gift from the mighty Brother-Captain Ignis of the Grey Knights. Though the unique fuel that had come with it had long since been ignited against the foes of humanity, the weapon could still spew forth righteous fire into the throws of battle.
To Correns right was Xephos, another esteemed hero of the chapter. Though he had served less time in the chapter than that of Corren, he had garnered much respect within the 19th company. He was the only one amoungst Squad Purgation that wore a suit of Mk.8 "Errant" power armor. Maglocked to his side was a purified heavy bolter, cleansed by Xephos himself after taking it off a fallen Havoc that nearly killed himself and his previous squad during his time in the 20th company. Opting to advance in the companies rather than stay as a Cleanser, he honored his old company with a pauldron marked with the heraldry of his previous captain.
And then Corren himself. Born to a noble from a far away world, he had known that his fate would not be one of the millions that were just blinked away, never leaving their mark on history. While his birth gave way to high position within the Astra Militarum, he was instead chosen to take part of the centennial Culling. The first of many victories started there. Now, having fought and killed uncountable foes and pushed through over 12 major campaigns, Corren earned the right to become one of the fifteen sergeants of the 1st company. Having earned the name Black Baron for his signature chainsword that hung off the side of his utility belt, Corren was well-respected and known within every company.
Grasping his combi-flamer tighter in his hand, he slowed his breathing anticipating the coming drop. All members of Squad Purgation were synced and ready for drop according to the readout on his helmet. With one last exhale, Corren mentally sent the green light to the pod master. Then he felt the void suddenly rise, as he and his men fell towards the war-torn world below.
The sensation was familiar, dropping through the atmosphere and the screaming roar of the massive turbine that controlled the decent to the surface. Corren had experienced it a hundred times before, and a hundred time before that. He preferred thunderhawk assault, but Hive Primus was under attack now, and could not afford the luxury of waiting. So the expedition leader Captain Ajax had ordered the drop of half a company via drop pod. The Battlenet showed that all seven pods had released without problem, sending fifty marines, Corren's veterans, and a command squad with Captain Aurelius and Tech-marine Khadra.
An eighth pod had been prepared for Dreadnought pilot Ciro, but the machine spirits of the mighty war mech had not been kind. Ciro had wanted to drop into the thick of battle with his brothers, but had instead opted out of the assault. With his mech out of commission, and not willing to take another that did not belong to him, he would be coming in on the second wave after the first landing.
The pod cleared the atmosphere, and where the directionless feeling of the void was gone, the squad now felt all to well the pull of gravity. The turbine and retro thrusters of the pod worked hard to withstand the strong winds of high altitude, keeping their trajectory straight. The noise was deafening, thundering against Corren's ears. Of all of his drops, none had ever produced such noise. He quickly started reciting a mantra from his youth, the one thing that had stayed with him through his centuries of service, to combat the dark sensation welling up within him. The base feeling that came from his genetic heritage, screaming for him to relish the sound, and to amplify it by removing his helm.
Then the flak came. Intel had supported the theory that the enemy knew of their approach, and had tried to set up defenses expecting their arrival. Corren had never been shot down in a pod before; the speed of descent made it near impossible to accurately hit the target, much less damage it. The foe must have had advanced targeting arrays however, as he saw one of the pods go from green to orange, signalling a major hit. What surprised him more was when his own pod suddenly rocked from impact. At first he thought that they had touched down, but quickly realized that they were still many thousands of meters above the ground.
"We've been hit,"exclaimed Pytor, the newest of the squad. New was a relative term however, as he had been a part of the squad for the past 2 campaigns.
"They've hit the central thruster," stated Xephos, his voice calm against the noise. "They are good. Makes me curious as to whom we are really fighting here."
"Xephos, can we still land," Corren questioned, keeping an eye on the time before landfall. "I would rather not die without so much as even seeing the enemy!" Eckhart nodded his agreement, as he placed his hand over his Incinerator, muttering a small prayer to whichever benevolent spirit might be passing.
The Dragons weren't religious by nature, choosing to adhere to the Emperors teaching of science and logic. This put them at odds with the Ministorum on multiple occasions. However, after fighting for centuries of heated battles, and surviving by the scrape of ones skill and luck, one would eventually come to believe that something was out there, protecting them and aiding them.
"Fire the retro-thrusters to angle us about 22 degrees to your left," started Xephos, quickly running the mathematics of drop podding through his head. "No wait, make that 21 degrees. It will take us further away from our intended landing zone, but I would like to think that it will save our miserable hides from an inglorious death."
"Is that all you have to give me!?" demanded Corren, even as he activated manual control over the pods decent with a quick thought. Already he could feel the pod angle away from the rest of the battle group, and a quick calculation from the machine spirit showed the new landing zone, many miles behind the enemy lines.
"Well we will find out whether it was worth it or not momentarily. T-10 until impact!,"Pytor exclaimed, gripping his harness in anticipation of impact. Corren fired the retro-thrusters at full power in trying to slow their decent, but barely felt the influence. Once more he muttered his homeworlds mantra, and readied for impact along side his battle-brothers.