Nam Imperator

You can find the German translations in this chapter (and any other chapters) at the end of the page.

I've moved the tense of the story to first-person, past tense. I've done this so it will be better (hopefully), easier for me and to make the story less 'choppy and difficult to follow'. There was a lot of face-palming when I went back and read the other chapters.

Chapter 4 – Strike hard

There was an awesome sound of the Valkyrie's twin F75-MV After-burning Vector-Turbojets as the pilot brought his craft to a hover over one of the last intact landing pads which was not littered with flaming aircraft or dimpled with shell craters.

The populated areas beyond the Space port's outer wall were systematically devastated by the constant battling between foes; flames licked cruelly at the blackening sky; rockets, shells and missiles shot upwards in a strangely beautiful deathly ballet in the sky only to come streaking down with fearsome forces which could crush even the mightiest defences, instead only to come crashing into the civilian populated hab spires which surrounded the space port and bought whole areas tumbling to the ground. Those unfortunates who were not able to flee the heretics.

I carefully unclasped a matte black rebreather mask from the transports armoury and hooked it onto my helmet as the Valkyrie lowered downwards to the platform, with a hiss of the helmet pressurising an icon flashed on my visor as it powered up, indicating 10 seconds till touchdown. I turned to the eleven other men, made up from various leftovers, who had been bundled into the troop compartment and gave them a thumbs up and they returned it, with the odd one or two swearing instead. I couldn't help but chuckle.

On a side note, Private Andrew Grain was not present on this operation. The general had him transferred to the Major's squad, they were a vox-operator short. So, we had a replacement, I didn't know his name and I would think he wanted that.

The Valkyrie touched down onto the charred rockcrete surface of the landing platform with a tremendous thump, I; Sergeant Boris Vladimir and my band of eleven, well trained and equipped soldiers of His Imperial Guard, unit Bravo-Dagger-Six from the Southern PDF 2nd Infantry Division, under the service of the beneficent God Emperor of Man, saviour of Mankind. That was a mouthful. Jumped out onto the platform to blast any heretic who dares stand in the way of our cleansing might. Well that was in hindsight how I had liked it to have panned out, instead the platform, my men and the Valkyrie were shredded before my very eyes as we stepped off the transport and an autocannon opened up from a sandbagged position. I, in a desperate attempt to save my skin, threw myself to the ground as the high-explosive shells pummelled into everything and anyone.

My head swam as I scrabbled to find cover from this storm of slugs and shells, I tilted my head and heard the Valkyrie's engines roar as the pilot attempted to evade the fire and gain altitude. But his attempts were in vain, as the autocannon shells ripped into the thrusters; the rear of the Valkyrie exploded. A rolling ball of fire smashed into me and melted the black camo paint off my back-plate of my carapace armour. Gasping for air, I used the black smoke as cover to roll off the edge of the platform into the cargo area between the landing pads.

Still dazed from the bone-jarring explosion, I tried to grasp this new situation. Groping for my lasgun, I found it missing; lost in the rolling inferno behind me. As a growl rumbled from my throat. I tugged my laspistol from my belt and checked the power pack. Gripping the pistol tightly in both hands I slipped from the cover of a crate. Looking forwards and getting my bearings I was rudely confronted by two guardsmen, well heretical bastards to be correct. A yell of surprise rose from one as I plugged his face with a well aimed lasbolt. The other was more aware and fired two rounds from his autogun at me, it was either I was lucky or the Emperor was watching me. He had shit aim, and I sent a lasbolt through his chest and throat.

As the bodies were falling, I was already moving and snatched up the fallen autogun, exchanging some clips from his vest webbing with my now unneeded power cells. Finding the functionality of the weapon was good I pulled the weapon to my shoulder and walked onwards.

Which was, I realised, a problem. Just as I heard the roar of an engine, I threw myself to the rockcrete floor and crawled behind a metal crate. Roughly 10 metres from my position, a scorched Chimera rolled to a stop. Through the din of the turret mounted multi-laser firing off into the distance, the back door wheezed open and a squad of heretics tumbled out. The squad fanned out, following standard tactica tactics. Figuring, I was obviously outnumbered and out-gunned.

Trying to gather a good way to escape this situation, I couldn't help but think about how this operation got so screwed. The plan was simple, us – strike force to take key facilities across the capitals surface, we had been assigned as Bravo-Dagger-Six. Our overall task was was to recapture the major space port, but our, no, my task was to regain control of the control towers south of the main launch pads. It will be interesting, to say the least.

My train of thought broke as the squad ran past my hiding place, luckily the Chimera moved on too. Orders where barked from the squad leader for the team to fan out.

I felt the urge to blast their heads off one-by-one, but reality gained the upper-hand and I shuffled further into my hide. Four heretics marched closer to me, the squad-vox pieces in their helmets squawked into life.

"Sektor ist klar, bereit zum nächsten Wegpunkt zu bewegen." One paused for a moment. "Bejahend, bestätigt Wegpunkt." He motioned to the others.
"Er ist hier in der Nähe, wo ihn, lassen Sie sich nicht den falschen Gott-Anbeter überleben!"

I had to do a double-take, that wasn't the planetary standard language, it sounded like the dribble which the Korpsmen of the Death Korps come out with. Why were there off-worlders here, helping the enemy?

Leaving the question floating in my mind I got back to the task, I moved forwards towards the bunker. That damn autocannon started up again, firing off its deadly shells off into the distance. Moving around a corner, I saw that I was closer to the immediate target. Coming up out of the cargo area, I sprinted across the open area between me and the bunker. I gave a look at the people occupying the area as I sped past, or for a better word corpses. Men and women, fortunately no children; were struck up on poles with their clothes torn from their bodies. In between the dried blood, cuts and their bared insides, I noticed with a stomach turning feeling that someone that kindly gone over their bodies with a knife, carving the blasphemous runes of chaos into them.

I felt mentally sick after barely looking at the runes, a burning desire to crush these heretics grew, no amount of propaganda pumped out by the Guard Commissariat could prepare anyone for the filth you'd find. Adding this, for a better metaphor, as fuel to my now ever growing fiery hatred I tugged a frag grenade from the webbing around my waist. Pressing my back to the cold hard rockcrete surface of the bunker I ripped off and dropped the pin, cooking the grenade for 2 seconds I pulled back my arm lobbed it through the firing slit.

With a massive crack, the grenade tore the front off the bunker, I threw myself to the ground as the debris' pattered off my armoured back. That made me think, had I kitted myself out with something other than frag grenades? It didn't matter, they worked well.

The heretics would react quickly to that, while they may have mostly turned into blubbering blasphemous mass of a man, they still withheld PDF combat knowledge.

I scrabbled back to my feet as the dust settled and ran over to the side of the bunker, I jumped down into the rockcrete trench. I scanned both directions with my autogun, and found it clear. I advanced past the usual objects of military life which cluttered the trench to the entrance of the bunker. I had to make sure it was clear, so it posed no more of a threat.

I slapped a small demo-pack onto the Plasteel door. It was a small compact explosive device, placed by the locking mechanism for the best effectiveness. After reaching suitable cover I detonated the charge. The door blew open with a concussive force, I bundled through the billowing smoke and saw a heretic stumble into my direction. I rammed into him and he hit the ground with a crunch, I rolled to the side as las-fire peppered where I'd been. The fallen heretic lived for only a second as his comrades blasted him to pieces.

By doing this, they had revealed themselves to me. I brought up my autogun and blasted a heretic with a shotgun in the face; as his body tumbled to the floor, I fired two shots into another as he turned his lasgun to me.

I spun around and countered a knife strike to my gut with the stock of my gun, I hit out with my fist and my knuckles smashed into the heretic's cheek bone; cracking it and he yelped out in pain. I stepped sideways to his outer-side and snapped his elbow with a strike from mine and I snatched his knife from his now useless hand. I rammed the blade into his throat and whacked the handle with a palm strike. The blade embedded further into his throat as he fell to the ground gurgling.

I put a solid round through his head. His brains splattered across the floor.

I surveyed the bunker, clear.

I moved back out of the bunker, I jumped over the side of the trench and moved off into the space port. I kept low to the ground, trying to gain as much cover as I could.

But, considering my luck, I was never good at any dice games which the men play back in the barracks; a Chimera rolled into sight. Let's just say, they weren't friendly. My careful movement turned into a full sprint, straight for a crater. I could tell that that the Chimera's turret was traversing to follow me, the hum of the multi-laser power cells grew as the gunner primed them to blast me apart.

Again, the dice rolls weren't with me as my foot caught a piece of Plasteel piping lying on the ground. I smashed full-pelt into the ground, I tasted blood but the gunner's shot whizzed over me and cracked harmlessly against a pile of rubble.

I frantically crawled across the rubble strewn ground, the las-fire of the Chimera peppered the ground around me, flinging flakes of rockcrete upwards in plumes of dust. After a minute of scrabbling through the rubble, I clambered over the rim of the crater and tumbled in.

There was a yelp of sudden surprise and I swung my autogun up. Only to be met with eleven lasguns. Thankfully, their operators were a bunch of scared PDF Auxiliary troopers, my relief was short-lived as one of the troopers yelled out a warning. "Hostiles disembarking from transport."

I turned and look at each of them, none of them looked like a non-commissioned officer. So, I had to ask. "Where's your sergeant, trooper?" To ask one.

He answers with some hesitation. "Dead, sir. A sniper got him."

I gave a nod and grinned. "Well, just your luck. I'm a bit squad-less and I am in need of one." The trooper's face lit up in surprise.

I turned over onto my belly and motioned to three other troopers. "Right, you three will provide covering fire on those heretics from this position." I turned again and gestured to another five troopers. "You lot will flank left and get to a good position before opening up on the bastards, wait for my command."

"The rest of you, you'll be with me and we'll make around to the right and get them as well." I wait a second to see if any questions were needed. "OK, move out."

We all moved, off into the different directions. The crack of las-fire gave us the thankful covering fire which forced the heretics to hug the ground. We scrabbled over the ground and dumped ourselves into a well positioned crater. I look over to the trooper who I had first conversed with. "What's your vox channel?"

"Alpha-Quanta-56, sir." He replies and I reconfigure my embedded vox-set to the channel.

"This is sergeant Vladimir, all units in position?" A series of 'Yes sir.' in my answer and I give my men a thumbs up. "All units, commence the attack."

Both, us and the other team through our fire-power at the heretics. Over the cracks of las-fire I heard a heretic yell a warning which sounded awfully like 'Achtung!' How many off-worlders were there?

Our combined fire cut down a few of them before the others could move to reposition themselves. The Chimera had moved off, obviously they had thought that had their target. I couldn't let them regroup and start firing back. I waved my arm at my troopers. "Into them, don't let them escape!"

The men roared as they raised their bayonets and charged the enemy. I lead the charge with my chain-sword brandished, we closed the gap of 20 metres between us and the enemy in only a matter of seconds.

We fell upon the enemy who rose to meet us. I swung my chain-sword at a heretic, the man deflected the strike with his combat blade and struck out with his fist. I blocked his fist by diverting it upwards and I stepped forward and kneed him in the stomach, where he grunted and bent over in pain. I swung my chain-sword downwards and decapitated the heretic.

Wiping the sprayed arterial blood from my visor I turned to engage a new threat. There was a boom of a shotgun and a trooper's chest was blasted out, he fell dead to the floor. I raised my laspistol and squared it on the heretic's head. He only realised when it was too late; it took two shots to burst through his helmet and the heretic toppled over backwards.

I lowered my arm, feeling the adrenaline rush fade from my system I realised that the battle had stopped. The troopers moved to cover all the directions. We had lost only the one man, these Auxiliary troopers were proving to be quite adept killing.

I signal for the squad to regroup by a half-destroyed hanger. It took about a minute for all of us to assemble there. I pat the trooper who I had spoken to the most on the back. "I never caught your name."

"Private Kurt Sergi, sir." I blink at his name, I've heard weird ones in my time, no not only mine but that. Well, that was just an odd one.

I take a measure of him, he was stocky built, quite large shoulders with a shaved head with a scar on the cheek. I'd estimate he was about a bit smaller than me in height. He, along with the other troopers were clad in standard Bocanh fagitures of black and grey camouflage, they also donned standard flak armour with a black painted lasgun.

"Right private Sergi. What was your original objective?" I ask.

"Gaining ground control of the space port to assist the attempts of the assault forces, sir." He replied so quickly, it was as if he remembered his order off by heart, there was no hesitation.

"Right, well I'm giving you new orders." I turn to include the whole squad. "My objective was to, through the fighting, to infiltrate and capture the space port control tower. Considering that you are now my new squad, that is your order from this moment forward."

One of the troopers raised his arm, a question on his lips. "Will we have any support sir?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his question. "No trooper, we will have no support. Don't expect the armoured units to provide any support, Major Blankhof will do everything possible to make the situation unbearable for us."

Some of the troopers passed a couple of uneasy looks around the group and I knew I had to be assertive. "Squad, this is an order, we are going to complete that objective for the Emperor and Imperium. We are His hammer and we will crush these heretics under our boots! Tell me this, what do we live for?"

The squad replied sharply. "The Emperor and Imperium!"

I look at them, they seemed to be empowered by that little speech. Turning I observe the target building, it was a monstrosity and leaned up over the space port, accompanied by its twin they were a prominent feature of the area and the defence of this area.

All the better to recapture it then.


Done, hope you enjoyed it. Any reviews will be greatly appreciated. :] (Hopefully that didn't sound like begging).

Translations:

"Sektor ist klar, bereit zum nächsten Wegpunkt zu bewegen." - "Sector is clear, ready move to the next waypoint."

"Bejahend, bestätigt Wegpunkt." - "Affirmative, waypoint confirmed."

"Er ist hier in der Nähe, wo ihn, lassen Sie sich nicht den falschen Gott-Anbeter überleben!" - "He's near here, find him, don't let the false-god worshipper survive!"

'Achtung!' - 'Attention!'