Hive World Uclion was on fire, set ablaze by the horrible Chaos forces. The defense of the world was left to the Planetary Defense Force, an Imperial Guard detachment dedicated to keeping the planet's citizens safe.
By this time, most of the attempts to evacuate civilians had been given up on. The Guardsman force had been decimated by Chaos troops and was currently focusing their attention on keeping themselves alive. Fortified lines had been set up in various places in the hive cities, mainly in front of Imperial Guard bases and other buildings. One such building was the Cathedral of The Emperor's Guiding Light.
A former holy place of worship, it had now been turned into the last beacon of the slowly dying hope on Uclion. Most of the cathedral was a warzone. The ground floor was filled with ammo crates and other Imperial Guard supplies. The upper floors had snipers, heavy weapons teams and machine guns placed out to get the height advantage over the Chaos forces. The cellar floor was a field hospital where wounded Guardsmen and civilians were kept in the small chance that they would survive the invasion.
It looked grim. For every Guardsman in or near the Cathedral, at least forty more Chaos troops were out there, be it daemons, Chaos Space Marines, corrupted Guardsmen or other wretched twisted beings. The Commissars were doing their best to keep the Guardsmen's morale up. It was said that a Guardsman may fear heretics and xenos, but nothing strikes fear in their hearts like an angry Commissar. It wasn't uncommon that Commissars executed Guardsmen on the spot to keep them in line. Usually, it worked. In a time like this, no man could be lost and the Commissars were restricted to using their words.
"Give them hell, Guardsmen! Show the foul traitors that they can't go against the Emperor! Throw them back into the Warp yourselves if you have to!"
Tanks and artillery had been requested. The tanks wouldn't be a problem, provided they could fight their way through the Chaos forces. A single super-heavy Baneblade tank together with a squadron of Leman Russ battle tanks would have little to no problem. They were expected to arrive in half an hour. With some desperate luck, that would not be too late.
Artillery support would prove to be more problematic. There were artillery units in range of the cathedral and with just a single word from a commanding officer, shells would rain down within minutes. Firing errors and miscalculations could however prove fatal to the Guardsmen in such a situation. While there of course was the possibility that the shells would hit the Chaos forces, there was an equally large probability that they would splash down on the cathedral or in the defense line and cause more harm than aid.
A loud and angry female voice could be heard shouting orders into a communication device. Female Commissars weren't exactly uncommon, but some Guardsmen were always surprised at seeing them. The following could be overheard:
"This is Commissar Johnson. Where's our bloody air support? We need Valkyries here, at once!"
"Understood. Valkyries moving out. Estimated time of arrival: Three minutes."
Three minutes. Hopefully that'd be enough. In a desperate situation like this, every second mattered and even the slightest delay could cause a defeat. Therefore, the commanding officers were on high alert.
"Marcus, Huisman! Man that heavy bolter, now!"
The heavy weapons team previously operating the heavy bolter had been obliterated by a psychic blast from the Chaos forces, or so the rest of the soldiers thought, at least. That was the most logical explanation for their sudden disappearance and the bloody piles of guts on the ground. It went without saying that more than a few Guardsmen became sick to their stomachs by seeing it. A few even threw up, which made the disgusting smell of dead bodies, blood and guts even more disgusting, a feat many would think impossible.
Two Guardsmen, Dominic Marcus and Tobias Huisman left their positions behind a barricade, rushing towards the heavy bolter that had been set up as defense against the incoming hostiles. The heavy bolter lived up to its name. It was so heavy it required at least two or three Guardsmen to carry and required setting up before firing. If anyone was so foolish as to try and fire it while holding it, the ensuing recoil would rip their arm off. Therefore it was always set up in a stationary position when in use by the Imperial Guard.
Space Marines, humanity's superhuman warriors, could fire them from their hands, but it required a great deal of strength and patience, and usually a normal boltgun would suffice.
Marcus could hear an officer bark orders into his headset. "Marcus, Huisman! Fire at will… and hurry up, damn it!" While he took his position behind the weapon, Huisman loaded an ammunition belt into the side of it. Once they heard the satisfying click, Marcus pulled the trigger, sending off the Imperium's fury in form of steel towards the enemy. It went pretty well at first. A few demons fell before the bullets, hindering their advance for the moment.
Suddenly a loud swishing noise was heard, followed by an unsettling splat. Marcus turned around to a horrifying sight. The noise that had been heard was a bolter round from a Chaos soldier passing by… and it had impacted and exploded in Huisman's head, judging by the fact that half his skull was missing and the puddles of blood, gore and brain substance that had formed where his head once was.
Marcus felt sick, sad and shocked. They had been best friends ever since they were recruits, Dominic Marcus and Tobias Huisman, fighting all threats towards the Imperium. They had seen Orks, Eldar, Tau, and many other things. Other comrades had fallen earlier, but the two best friends had always endured all wars. It felt weird that it had to end today, and in such a disgusting and abrupt way, without any proper goodbyes. A bolter round to the head and… that was it. No more Huisman. The thought "At least he got a quick death" passed through Marcus' head. It didn't help much, but at least it was something.
It was like things couldn't get worse, but they did. The next second, another message came over the communication device. "The line has been broken! Retreat into the cathedral!" Marcus picked up Huisman's dog tags and mumbled a quick farewell before running into the cathedral. Once arriving inside, he heard the Valkyries ordered earlier swooping by, the ground shaking as they fired their missiles into the Chaos horde. It didn't do much, but at least it was to some aid for the Imperial Forces.
Dominic Marcus was in despair. His best friend had been killed, his own life was at risk and there was a large risk of his force falling to the temptation of Chaos. Even through his body was physically present in the cathedral, his mind was somewhere else, trying to process all that had just happened. He could hear orders being yelled, but he didn't register them. It was like a dream.
"Barricade the entrances! Call for reinforcements… Astartes, the Navy, tanks, even the bloody Inquisition if you have to! Just get us some damn support!"
Even if support could reach the planet, the cathedral would definitely be lost before that happened. Staying to fight was suicide, but fighting Chaos was the Emperor's will, and the soldiers had to obey. At that moment, a thought formed in Marcus' mind. There was nothing left to do. Whispering a prayer to the Emperor, he pressed his lasgun towards his temple and took a deep breath. Then, he pulled the trigger. For a split second, he felt intense pain and then… nothing more. All went black.