Three

"You can waste as many Imperial lives as you care, that is your stupidity and not my responsibility."

-Warmaster Menitus

'It looks so peaceful,' Major Philosir remarked as he saw the rugged terrain around the capital of Corduba. It reminded him somewhat of the arid plains of his home, though the city before him was a poor substitute for the kiryats, cities of glittering spiresthat dotted the surface of his own world. In the major's eyes few things could rival the majesty of home, the wealth of entire sectors flowed into Qart-Hadasht and it was jealously guarded by its Sophets and the Merchant Houses.

'They always look peaceful,' Hamilcar interrupted Philosir's musings, 'until the shit hits the fan, then its' all screaming and dying.'

'Sir, has anyone ever told you that you know how to spoil a perfectly good moment?' Philosir replied.

'Yes, it's one of my more charming qualities.' Hamilcar said. 'Now get that mob you call a company in line, I want them kitted out and ready to march into the capital.'

'Full combat kit, sir?'

'General Morana's orders.' Hamilcar said. 'It never hurts to show these provincials who is coming to save their collective arses.'

'Right you are, sir.' Philosir saluted smartly and turned to bark orders at his company. Hamilcar smiled faintly, to tell the major to run a tight company was like telling water to be wet.

Hanno meanwhile was not smiling, instead he was yelling abuse at a worker from the Munitorium who was trying to handle a container full of powercells for the lasrifles from a modified Sentinel.

'Be careful with those powercells!' Hanno yelled in the vox link built into his helmet. 'We need those for killing people.'

'And they haven't made you the Lord Solar's successor yet? What with your rapier wit and all.' Sergeant Yasha said, her thin lips pursed in an mocking grin. Her squad was already settled in and ready to advance, which gave her some time to observe the increasingly heated exchange between the corporal and the Munitorium worker.

'Truly a pity for the Imperium, imagine what I could do if I had the power of Macharius. Why, the tyranids would piss themselves and head back to their own galaxy out of sheer terror.' Hanno countered.

'Or the Imperium would collapse overnight.' Hamilcar said as he walked by them. 'Oh by the way, are you still paying attention to that crate?'

'Yes sir, I'm in the mi-,' Hanno began before his face contorted in a scowl of pure frustration. 'Oi! Don't put that there! Who the frig gave you the clearance to handle a Sentinel?'

The worker gave corporal Hanno a colourful reply through his vox link.

'What? My mother is a saint!' An outraged Hanno shouted back, shaking his fist at the Munitorium worker for good measure.

Hamilcar looked at Yasha and nodded at her squad, she got the hint and headed back to her soldiers where she wasted no time in making sure they were still combat ready. Then he looked at Hanno who was making a rather rude comment about the pilot's still living female relatives. 'I'll leave you two alone then.' He said as he realised he was being completely ignored by both parties and walked on, making a mental note to assign Hanno to this particular task as a punishment detail. Maybe then the flow of moonshine and illegal rations would stop flooding the 49th's compound, or at least diminish. A man can dream.

'What was that all about, sergeant?' Trooper Danel asked as Yasha rejoined them.
'Oh, you know.' She shrugged. 'Some poor Munitorium sod isn't doing things to the exacting standards of Saint Hanno.'

'May the Emperor have mercy on him.' Danel chuckled. Corporal Hanno had long earned the nickname Saint from the men and women of the 49th as he was the man to talk to you if wanted something not quite legal to miraculously appear or disappear. Suffice to say he could do preciously little wrong in the eyes of the Guardsmen he served with. Commissar Chenkov harboured many a suspicion of his ill-doings, but so far he had frustratingly little proof.

'Aye, we would do well to pray for the worker's soul.' Yasha winked at Dalen as Hanno's voice was becoming audible even from where they were standing. 'May Him on Earth shield his ears from Hanno's curses.'

Dalen barked a laugh and turned his head to indicate the rest of the squad. 'We'll be sure to include him in our prayers before going to sleep. However, the lads and I have been wondering about something.'

'Oh?' Yasha said with feigned surprise and a mischievous twinkle in her hazel eyes. 'Have you been doing that thinking thing again? I told you, too much of that is bad for your brain.'

'Yeah, but I felt like using an extra brain in the squad couldn't hurt. We wouldn't want all the cognitive pressure to fall on you. You never know when we might have to devise a brilliant plan when we're in a scrap and your down.' He paused to tap on his eyepatch. 'Someone could lose an eye in a situation like that.'

'Hmph,' Yasha grunted, still feeling guilty about that. 'Point taken. What's on your minds?'

'Well, we heard rumours that what we will be fighting is some kind of xenos that look like wolves but walk like men. What's that all about?'

'Look, I know about as much as you do. I suspect the major will brief us soon enough about what we'll be shooting. But in the end, does it matter? They're xenos after all and we all know how to deal with xenos.' Yasha replied and unsheathed the short sword carried by all Guardsmen in the regiment. It was a single edged blade that pitched forwards toward the point. The edge was concave near the hilt, but convex near the point. Many an enemy of the Emperor had been surprised when they breached a fortress or spilled into a trench, only to be greeted by Qart-Hadashtim soldiers with their falcatas drawn.

Dalen nodded at his sergeant. 'Aye, I suppose you're right. That's why you're a sergeant and I'm just a lowly trooper.'

'And don't you forget it.' Yasha shot him a half smile before addressing the rest of the squad. 'Right, you sorry lot, get ready to move out. We have a planet to save and handsome locals to impress!'

There were good hearted cheers at the sergeant's words and the Guardsmen joined the throng of black ad bronze that was marching towards the capital of this world.

It wasn't long before they saw the companies sent by the other regiments to represent them before the planetary governor.

Yasha could see Harakoni Warhawks in cream coloured armour, looking as tight as any Cadian company. Their faces were completely hidden behind their rebreathers and helmets and the grav-chutes for which their regiments were famed were affixed to the back of each Guardsman's armour like wings.

She also spotted the Athonian Tunnel Rats, they looked less like an army and more like a bunch of gangers who were given lasrifles before being pointed to the nearest troop ship that would take them off-world. It was only later that she learned that was in fact very close to how Athonian regiments were recruited. Lastly she saw the fabled Valhallan Ice Warriors who looked very impressive in their fur hats and thick greatcoats. Although, as she looked closer, the individual Valhallans looked more like they were about to pass out from heat stroke in the pleasantly warm climate they found themselves in.

Her thoughts did not wander any further as she arrived in the venue especially erected for the purpose of the arriving Imperial Guard regiments to offer themselves up to inspection for the Lady General and the governor.

'Company, halt!' The voice of major Philosir barked. Five hundred pairs of boots stamped to a halt.

'Turn, right!' Another barked command and the company smartly turned about, which brought them face to face with the major, his face hidden behind the ornate face mask he wore as part of his helmet. It was cast to resemble a bearded face, only the major's eyes and lips were visible through the slits.

Close to two thousand guardsmen were now waiting for the appearance of their commander and the representative of the world they came to save.

Yasha's mind once again began to wander as she realised she had never seen Lady General Morana in the flesh. She had fought within her Army Group for close to five years, but the closest she had come were blurry picts of her face and vox-recordings laced with static of her voice. She couldn't care less about the governor who would also make an appearance. A youth spent being held in contempt by the highborn of Qart-Hadasht had bred an almost rabid hatred of the nobility with her. So she was quick to dismiss the governor as just another highborn fop with more inbreeding than common sense in his genes.

'Present, arms!' Philosir and the officers of the assembled regiments roared. The result was two thousand lasrifles raised in salute as the Lady General and the governor appeared on the podium. Their heads appeared on massive screens behind them so the massed ranks of Guardsmen could see their faces

Morana scanned the assembled soldiers looking for the slightest imperfection in their appearance. Yasha was pretty sure she saw her wince as she got to the Athonians and what passed for their uniforms, festooned as they were with gang symbols and trophies taken from battles fought in the past. Hardly what you would call parade ready, but they were vicious bastards in a fight, so they were allowed some leeway when it came to their appearance.

Still, Yasha got a look at the General's face. She looked like she was in her early forties, but with all the juvenant treatments available to the high and mighty who could tell? Her grey eyes had a hard set to them. Her face looked rather gaunt which accentuated her long nose. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail so it hovered over the collar of her green and white dress uniform. There could be no doubt that the man next to her was the ruler of the world. Yasha was surprised to see a face that was remarkable in that it was utterly unremarkable. You would expect someone with access to the wealth of an entire world to fuel his own vanity and transform himself into what he considered the ideal form. The man she saw would go completely unnoticed in a crowd. His black and maroon uniform was of a fine cut, but it was mostly unadorned by meaningless medals and honorifics. Another surprise, as highborn fops were very keen on their military regalia.

'Soldiers of the Imperium,' General Morana's voice boomed across the venue, amplified by vox stations. 'We have the honour of raising our arms to defend this world.' She paused as her voice carried over the assembled ranks. Which gave Yasha enough time to wonder who the esteemed Lady General meant by "we".

'This world is beset by xenos.' General Morana continued. 'Even as we speak they spread across the surface, bringing naught but suffering and death to the innocent people who call this place home. Well, no more! You will purge this alien filth from this world in the Emperor's name.'

'For the Emperor!' Two thousand voices roared, almost on instinct.

Morana nodded and invited the governor to inspect the troops who would be fighting and dying to keep his people safe. The man looked uncomfortable at the prospect.

Yasha decided this was to his credit.

Hamilcar stared at the data slate in his hand. This situation was even worse than he had first thought. From the looks of it the PDF had taken a severe mauling, he could only wonder at the level of idiocy one had to operate on to split an overwhelming into tiny little pieces that could be cut off and snuffed out one by one. On Qart-Hadasht an imbecile like that would have been hurled into the sacred fire of lady Tanit, the patron saint of his world, instead of remaining in command.

He sighed and reached for a glass of amasec, only to find it empty. He reached for the bottle.

Also empty.

He sighed as he despaired over incompetent commanders who threw lives away as if they were scraps on their plates. Men and women like that did about as much damage to the Imperium as any xeno or heretic.

The colonel shook his head as if he could shrug off the heretical thought. He sighed again, he really needed that amasec right about now.

Just then the door to his office opened up and Hanno entered. He carried with him more data slates and a bottle containing an amber liquid that Hamilcar knew all too well.

'I shall have to report you to the Black Ships one of these days.' Hamilcar say by way of greeting. 'You always seem to know what I'm thinking.'

'Ah, but then who will polish your boots?' Hanno replied.

'I don't know. I don't recall you ever polished them even though that ought to be one your duties.' Hamilcar said and offered his adjutant a seat before his desk.

'Ah yes, well, you see the thing is…' Hanno began as he took his seat.

'Never mind all that.' Hamilcar interrupted him. 'I'm more interested in your handling of that situation with the Munitorium pilot.'

'All powercells are accounted for and stocked in the proper areas.' Hanno said and poured two glasses of amasec.
'I see.' Hamilcar mused as he swished the amber liquid in his glass. 'And was this before or after someone climbed into a Munitorium Sentinel and bashed it's operator's head against the controls?

'Does it matter, sir?'

'No,' Hamilcar said and sipped his amasec. 'No, I suppose it doesn't.'