The wind was howling outside the cramped confines of the Valkyrie's troop compartment, as the ten men inside sat quietly inspecting their gear. They had done this so many times before, the actions were executed almost like programming. They were here to break a siege that had some poor Trencher regiment bogged down. Some renegades had invaded the world of Verdun, and were making a mess of things.
Staff Sergeant Edward Merrick looked around the troop compartment, seeing the faces of the men he was about to lead into the jaws of hell itself. He noted the name of the planet, fitting that such a brutal and bloody battle should be fought on a world named after the site of a brutal, bloody, battle from some ancient war almost long forgotten. The only reason he knows it is because his people, the Nieflung, have a long memory and a rich oral military tradition. In fact all of the men on this bird were from Nieflheim, they were members of the elite Nielfheim 75th Light Rifles, 3rd Battalion. Third Battalion had been sent out almost 10 years ago, to fight in the Imperium's many wars, and they had not seen home since. This was their last mission before their unit was slated to return to their world, and another unit sent out.
The Flight engineer stood up and shouted, "Stand up!" This prompted the 10 men in the hold to stand bolt upright. The next call rang out, the men readied their equipment, "Hook up!" instead of grav chutes the troopers were using old style parachutes, as grav chutes are often not the stealthiest of options. The men hooked their static lines to the cable in the cabin. The third call came out, "Move to the rear!" The commandos shuffled to the rear of the compartment and steeled themselves for the bracing wind that was to follow.
The rear ramp lowered for the men to shuffle out. One by one they jumped into the freezing cold air. 10 seconds later the men felt the shock of their parachutes open as the silently drifted down to the surface...
