Lord General Gaius Altius watched as the 32nd Praetorian Regiment fell valiantly before enemy arms and with them his only chance for victory. He slammed a four-fingered fist against the observation post's railing, startling his aide and the throng of tactical advisors which followed him like the fetid scavengers they were. A deep sigh was the only outward acceptance the Lord General gave to his imminent demises. There was little else he could do in all honesty. With the orbital fleet all but destroyed retreat was not an option. Not that retreat would have been an option in any case for the Lord General. This was the latest in a long string of defeats and seemed preferable to perish here than live with the shame. He turned around to face the tactical officers and silently cursed them all. If only he'd had men with some real mettle to them with spine and gumption he may not be in this abysmal situation.
Just as the thought came to an end a young officer, a command vox caster clinging to his back, burst through the mob of cowardly staff. Delivering a crisp salute and greetings the man's bearing was infallible but as the words came tumbling so too did his façade.
"My Lord," he began eagerly, "We've picked up a signal emanating from the planet's third moon! They…" pausing for a moment a moment to catch his breath, he all but slung the rest of the words out, "They claim to be reinforcements!"
A pang of hope made the Lord General feel light on his feet before faithful suspicion did away with the fleeting emotion. Impossible. It was simply impossible for any relief to get to their front in time, let alone the enemy navy blockading the world! But… but there weren't any other options available and maybe, just maybe, the Emperor was working a miracle that would save the Lord General, his career and the men under his command.
"Do you have a direct line?"
"Of course, Lord General," he said handing over the speaking device.
Altius took a firm grip with his mangled hand and in his most authoritative tone spoke, "This is Lord General Gaius Altius, in charge of the forces tasked with reclaiming this world in the name of the Emperor. To whom am I speaking to?"
"Ello? Dis' thing on? Oi'! None of that!" came a voice in a horrendously guttural low gothic accent.
"I can hear you, state yo-"
"Are der' still things need killin' down der?"
The general staff began whispering amongst themselves as the conversation went on. Altius fumed for at the man's interruption before bringing his temper back into line. "Yes, the enemy is bearing down on all positions, we dearly need the reinforcements you claim to provide."
"Dat's all I needed ta' hear. We'z comin' down to da' left of yaz! No… da right? No. No definitely left! We'll be there in a couple o' minutes!" The voice became more muffled as the speaker moved away from the reception device. "Oi! Boyz! We'z got baddies ta' kill! Get us movin'! For da' Big Boss on Da Shiny Chair!"
"Da Shiny Chair!" rang out an equally uncouth chorus.
Altius looked up in confusion for a moment and was met with the sight of his aides all gawking at something above and behind him. As he followed their gazes Lord Altius' vison became filled with a brilliant radiance surrounding a flaming dreadnaught as it barreled down towards the enemy stronghold.
Men of mettle were here, and they weren't being subtle about it.