Thanos Campaign,
Siege of Basilica Hereticus,
Bad News, Good Breakfast
The slow smoke rose from the dying camp fire, men awoke to the thundering rumble of the early artillery salvo. They were greeted with the gruff voices of their fully dressed and prepared superiors who were kicking them up. They rubbed their sore backsides and their tired eyes. Finally after three days of near continuous battle and fatigue they had finally gotten a full eleven hours sleep thanks to the recommendation of both (now Colonel) Bashir and the Captain of the Imperial Fists to the High Command. Orvan reluctantly agreed, but at a cost.
Hakon chomped down on the grox fillets and sausages with utter delight, a scoop full of scrambled eggs landed on his plate. This was real food, he had not eaten proper food for over a month, far removed from the paste rations of the guard, he relished in the taste of cooked meat and fluffy scrambled eggs. All around him the Subaedars and the Sergeants also dug into the meals, there was so much food that they had to share with the other companies. Halvorn smiled at Hakon as his eyes fell on him, bits of food fell from his mouth as he stuffed himself. There something strange about it Hakon thought, why would they get A-Class rations from the apparent 412th Supplicor Regiment?
He felt a Cadian hand guiding it, possibly Cestus, but he doubted it once he knew that his entire Task Force were heading for orbit due to some orbital disturbance. They were once a company created for boarding actions, Aiden had once stated.
"Lieutenant, sir!" saluted Sergeant Kastor as he stomped his foot to attention.
"Mornin' Kastor. At ease" he said with a mouthful of eggs "What's the matter won't you join us?"
"Sir, Uhh…I don't know how to say this but…we found something in the boxes the food came in."
Hakon swallowed a mug full of steaming caffeine and burped, "What did you find? Caramel Cakes?"
"No, Sir. It is just…."
"What?" asked Hakon a strange sense swept over him, something bad was coming, he knew it in his full gut. "Won't you usually be busy requisitioning resources and ammunition from the troopships about now?"
"Uhh…they haven't been talking back, there was a big battle in the orbit last night, so strict silence up there."
"I see…battle?" asked Hakon to which, Kastor nodded
"We slept through it sir." Kastor added.
"So what did you find?"
"There was a note in it, sir." He said retrieving a piece of paper from his pocket, "You might want to read it in private."
"Really?" Hakon raised an eyebrow as he took the note and read over it. His face suddenly changed from the serene to one of frustration.
"Halvorn, with me in the Command Tent." He stared at him long enough for Halvorn to realize amidst stuffing of food. "Now! Halvorn!" yelled Hakon.
The tent was small and cramped, all the vox-equipment of the company and the Las Charger packs were crammed around making the tent more cramped. A massive table with marked and pinned maps sprawled across it, a divider and a pen lay on them. Hakon was up all night planning his next assault.
"It's the Commissar, Halvorn, he's back messing with us!" screamed Hakon as soon as he entered the tent.
A dumbstruck Halvorn was caught totally unprepared for the outburst, he stood there staring at Hakon who was now about the tent punching the equipment and throwing the maps of the table. He knew why, perfectly well infact, all about the Commissar and his damn sanction, All those years ago.
Halvorn immediately grabbed his arms and pushed him toward the table restraining him completely with his superior strength, "Hak, calm it down!" he shouted over Hakon's venting anger.
"Why? He is coming for us." Whispered Hakon, "He's gonna finish what he started, he's gonna destroy the Regiment!" he cried "Tha…that old bastard should've died!" Sweat and tears covered his face as he reminisced about Colonel Karath, Lieutenant Venao, Chelman, and Desra. Halvorn knew all too well. "Rashid should've died on Verik." He agreed.
"Well he did!" came a calm voice from the tent entrance, the Erathians turned to see an intimidating figure in the garb of a Imperial Commissar of the Imperial Guard of the God-Emperor.
A high hat with the imperial eagle pinned on it, a skull with wings on his silver breastplate, a plethora of medals and ribbons hung from it, he was tall and well built his massive shoulders carried the black and red insignia of a Erathian Captain. A massive blade hung from his waist and a bolt-pistol was sheathed strapped to his thigh. His gloved hand rose to his chest in a martial salute.
"Good morning Lieutenant Werath Hakon of the Erathian 7th Company 'Strikers'." He smiled relishing the confusion in the faces of the Erathians. "It seems I have interrupted some bonding ritual?" he smirked after a pause.
"Who…who are you?" stammered Hakon drawing to his full height.
"Not even a salute to your political officer?"
Hakon immediately formed the Aquila on his chest and gave a martial salute stamping his feet, his fist to his chest. Halvorn mirrored his action.
"Good. Now to answer your question, I am Commissar-Captain Isaac Rashid. I bring grave news of your…our regiment."
"Our regiment, commissar?" dared Halvorn.
"Yes, our regiment, mine and yours, sergeant." His manner became serious as he walked toward the Erathians. He put his heavy hand on Hakon and said something that shattered him to the very core. "Hakon, our regiment…is gone!" he declared.
Hakon stared at him in disbelief, "What….the…the Regiment is fine!"
"Last night the imperial fleet was engaged from behind by a massive chaos fleet intent on breaking the siege of Thanos…we lost the troops ships Nikolai and Alexius among others, a lot of guardsmen were…martyred for the cause."
"Nikolai…Oh, Emperor Protect us! How Commissar? How?" cried Halvorn. Hakon was too astonished my the magnitude of the revelation to speak.
"The ships were in deployment procedure, there was no way they could've done anything about the attack, they were caught out." Isaac explained.
"Did…did anyone, make it?" Hakon finally asked.
"Colonel Varan and the three-thousand Erathians in orbit were lost, one other company luckily were enroute to the surface when it happened. I think it was the 9th Company under a Lieutenant Taran Kioth."
"Lucky 'Aces' always make it, sir." said a somewhat relieved Halvorn. But still the bitterness from the loss of his regiment was burining within him. "So what now?"
"Well your Regiment is inactive, the entire command staff where wiped out with most of the troops. Only your company, the 8th, the 14th and the 9th have survived, I was sent here to rally your companies and see what we can salvage out of the loss." He trained his eye back to Hakon, "I am told that you hold quiet a level of respect and honour within the regiment, so I chose you to be the first to know. I will be on my way soon to break it to the rest of the companies."
"A bit blunt, isn't it commissar?" said Hakon rage building in his eyes once more.
"Blunt, Lieutenant?"
"Giving us that Breakfast to soften us for the hard news?"
"Well, I had to bring it into…."
"What Commissar, you think we can't handle the truth? We can handle it!" he shouted, "We lost all the things that is close to us, we were hammered for the last five days again and again, yet we made a bloody battalions worth of work clearing the inner and outer hab locations and complexes." He walked toward the entrance and looked at his men about the makeshift camp preparing for the new day "By the Name of the God-Emperor, Commissar!" he swore "We can go on, lest you want us dead!"
"Are you afraid of death?" asked an amused Commissar his black orbs piercing into him.
Hakon contemplated the words and understood what the Commissar meant, "Not any more, sir. Not any more!"
"Music to my ears, Lieutenant!" Commissar Rashid ended as he shuffled past Hakon out of the tent.
The news of the Regiments loss hit the troopers so hard that most of them simply dropped what they were doing to hear the news of their beloved regiment's utter destruction, some cried for the lost for the lost, some stayed quiet, but most demanded blood in retaliation and vengeance. The cries went up through the camps of the three Erathian companies, they were as determined as ever to see this battle through.
The remnants of the Erathian Strike Force were now under the new and complete command of Commissar-Captain Isaac Rashid, they companies were to cut their losses and simply advance toward the forward line were the 9th company 'Aces' were deployed, the Commissar had done his best to meet with all the troopers and instill his authority, and his assurance to the remaining Erathians his unwavering support against dissolution of the Companies and spreading them out. The loyalty to him from within the company was questionable as not many actually knew anything about, even when Harth had tried to dig something up, all it said was it was "Datus Extermis", it was classified. He himself spoke very little other than referring to it as the 'incident' when they had met in the war-room. All this made Hakon and the others very anxious, but the lust for battle was almost overrunning the thought.
Battle Plans
"We will advance in full speed until we reach the 9th Erathian and the 42nd Cadians, we will split into two prongs." Commissar Rashid signalled as he indicated on the map before him. He pointed to Alric and Garth with his middle and index fingers respectively, and put the fingers on the map facing the marked frontline facing the weakest point of the Citadel, the Westwall. "You, Alric, will advance forward and reinforce the 42nd Cadians in taking the forward siege guns." He turned to Gath, "While you go up the centre and setup here, command will supply you with a battery of guns to cover us in the forward advance."
He finally turned to Hakon, "Yours will be my personal Company Hakon. We head to the 9th and beat back a predicted attack by the heretic curs!"
Hakon simply nodded, "It would be an honour, sir!" if it was a mock tone Rashid did not pick it up.
"You honour him too much my Commissar-Captain!" joked Garth.
No one dared laugh in front of the Commissar until a thin smile creased the commissar's lips and he began chuckling, the Sergeants and the Lieutenants began laughing until Rashid raised his hand for silence.
He was quietly reading everyone, Hakon knew it. How he talked to the troopers and the officers, it was all an assessment to see who he could count on and who he can exploit. It was always like this for the Commissars of any regiment politics first, regiment second, trooper third. After all they were a political entity of the Guard, it was their job. Just like it was Hakon's job to lead his forces into a glorious victory over the damned enemy.
Breaking from his self-contemplation he looked toward the Commissar finishing up his requests of the others, in unison the standing Erathians saluted all at once at the Commissar confirming his orders, and his authority. Hakon joined in and together they yelled their battle-cant.
"Thervani Arthum!" they snapped to attention, the surprised commissar smiled at the shout, a show of confusion on his face.
"Ah, yes the Commissar is not an Erathian." laughed Alric
"That is true, it is up to Hakon to teach him our battle-speech I guess and I fear the worst!" said a sarcastic Garth.
Rashid looked toward Hakon as if expecting something from him, he kept his counsel, and he decided to play a game with the commissar making it hard to read him. Hakon simply nodded and saluted to his comrades, "I will try." is all he willed himself to say.
The Commissar appreciatively nodded to him, "Well men get ready for we leave for the front with all haste!" he drew a long lithe blade of shimmering silver metal and bought it to his fore and swung it forward, "In the name of the Almighty Emperor, the Defender, the Protector and the Saviour of Humanity, we fight men of Erathia!"
A loud cheer erupted from the gathering, a small smile creased Hakon's face, finally he thought to himself. Battle.
Camps and Massacres.
The slow rumble of tanks and artillery pullers filled the damp bloody air. Open graves covered the city streets, the gutters choked with blood. The Erathians marched through a raised embankment facing the massive parking fields, where the entirety of the 32nd Cadian Division and the 34th Gorans Regulars had encamped and waiting for a break in the walls.
The view was repulsing, the camps were fringed with dead heretics and Guardsmen and no one had bothered to clean up. Hakon nearly threw up when he saw the body of a dead heretic, his chest ripped open, organs spilling out with strange marks and jagged chunks of meat missing, suddenly he realized that they were bite marks, he turned away toward the polluted green-hued river and the opposite bank.
The other side was much the same with thousands of swarming guardsmen killing looting and even raping the survivors and stragglers of the city who sought refuge under the invaders. This type of slaughter was common and accepted, he even watched as Commissars went about the piles of dead and execute those who survived, he saw a child being shot through the head, half his head was blown of the body convulsed violently before it fell, the child still cried, it was still alive, Hakon watched on disturbed.
Refugees around the Cadian camps dared not to draw attention to themselves as they picked through the dead, one particular mob began advancing near the Imperial encampment and picking through unchecked bodies of Guardsmen, left behind from a prior engagement.
In a sudden torrent of conflict a throng of fanatics, mainly camp followers and a few guardsmen erupted from the camps wielding autoguns and bayonets and began laying into the enemy, another bloodbath, almost as if the two banks of the rivers were challenging each other to see who can kill the most refugees.
The poor wretches fled before the fury of the fanatics and were heading to the raised road upon which the Erathians were marching through, dozens were being gunned down in front of Hakon's eyes, he heard the Commissar order the men. In a disciplined line the two hundred and fifteen men of Hakon's company drew and shouldered their rifles.
Hakon simply watched the company prepare to massacre innocents.
"Fire!" yelled the Commissar.
In a brilliant volley of crimson death, flashes of concentrated las shots blasted the survivors heading to the Erathians. That is when Hakon realised, he did not care. He wanted them to die, he watched as heretic citizens slipped on faecal droppings and urine as they tried to dodge the gunfire, but to no avail, they all died, slow or fast.