Eight
"All men need something to fight for, a cause to believe in. Tell them that the Emperor needs them to hold that ground at all costs, and they'll fight like lions."
-Commissar Tyreen, 71st Versimman Dragoons
Yasha and her squad spent the ride to the PDF fortress in relative silence. They were riding in one of the rare Chimeras which were reserved for the forward units of the column. Riding in the armoured interior of the Chimera they were denied the pleasant view of the forested area surrounding the road they were travelling. But Yasha was the sort of woman who preferred a few inches armoured plating over a scenic view.
Many of her soldiers had already double checked their equipment and, since playing games of chance with Yasha nearby was financial suicide, decided to simply doze off. If you could sleep on a troop transport that was gliding through the warp, a realm of nightmares where one risked eternal damnation, you could sleep everywhere.
The sergeant held her helmet before her, she brushed a finger over the raised crest of bronze and checked if the hinges of the cheek guards did not creak. Her eyes regarded the symbol of Tanit emblazoned on its front and her thoughts wandered back to the glittering spires of the kiryats, the cities back home.
In a previous life a little girl had called the city of Atiq her home. Atiq was famous for its bustling port, shipyards and markets where anything, legal or otherwise, could be bought and sold. She had spent many years growing up in the shadows of the spires from which the flower of the Kan'anim nobility controlled the flow of wealth and the Merchant Houses engaged in their vendettas and intrigues, utterly oblivious of the Lybim toiling below. She had soon come to the realisation that she had two options available, stay on Qart-Hadasht and spend her life accumulating wealth for someone else or join the Imperial Guard and shoot a lasrifle at whatever it was that dared to threaten the Emperor's realm. A younger Yasha had chosen the latter option and she never regretted it. For though she had seen the many horrors that lurked in the galaxy she had also seen sights that took her breath away.
But even serving in the Imperial Guard she found that she could not escape the constraints Qart-Hadashtim society placed upon her. As a Lybim she had risen as far as she could in the ranks, even in the Guard the Kan'anim jealously guarded their privileges and power. For this reason the Qart-Hadashtim regiments where one of the very few to receive a regular influx of reinforcements of both castes, all so the officer corps could remain staffed by Kan'anim. As a result of this all a Lybim could hope to aspire to was the rank of sergeant or to be chosen for the Sacred Band.
Her years on Qart-Hadasht left her with a grudge against the nobles who flaunted their wealth earned by the toil of others. Some Kan'anim were alright, like Hamilcar and Philosir. Those were officers who lead from the front and would never expect a trooper to follow an order they would not carry out themselves. While others like lieutenant Arisha were so accustomed to a previous life of privilege they had a tendency to treat the troops under their command like errant servants. Needless to say, sergeant Yasha and lieutenant Arisha did not get along well.
'Something on your mind, sarge?' Danel asked when their eyes met.
'Just thinking about all the injustice in the galaxy." Yasha replied with a rueful smile.
'Injustice? In the Imperium of Man?' Danel asked with sarcasm laced into every word. 'Do I have to go and get Chenkov?'
'With that tone it sounds like you would be more than willing to join my hypothetical revolution.' Yasha shot back.
'Far from it,' Danel grumbled. 'The Imperium might have its problems, but it's still a damn sight better than the alternative. Just ask the poor sods of this world.'
'Ah, good point.' She said.
'What the..?' Danel began as he felt the Chimera slowing down until it came to a complete stop. 'Aren't we at least three hours from our objective?'
'I'll go and see what all the fuzz is about.' Yasha said as the rest of the squad were woken from their slumber, grumbling like angry giants.
She made her way to the driver The driver, a balding man in his late forties with a belly not even a well-tailored uniform could have hidden.
'What's all this?' She demanded of the man as she made her way towards him. 'Don't tell me this heap of junk has already died on us.'
The driver looked at her as if she had just slapped just his mother in the face.
'For your information,' He began, eliciting a groan from Yasha. 'This is a fine piece of equipment and will take us anywhere we need to go without so much as a hitch.'
'Yeah, yeah whatever. Then why have we stopped?' Yasha asked.
The driver did not reply, instead he indicated the view port.
Yasha had to come uncomfortably close to the driver, who did not seem to share her discomfort. She gave him a hard glare and he wisely decided to shift away from her. She turned away from him and peered through the port to see what had caused them to halt. She swore in Ponim as she saw a stream of refugees heading down the road towards them.
'Get me that vox-equipment.' She said to the driver. 'This just got a whole lot more complicated.
…
Major Philosir's swore as sergeant Yasha told him about what was happening at the front of the column. This was a delay they could ill afford.
'How many people are we talking about, sergeant?' He asked.
'Hard to say, sir.' Yasha's voice came from the vox. 'Looks like at least a few hundred, could even be a thousand.'
'Thank you, sergeant.' He cursed inwardly, getting that many people to move in an orderly fashion would take time and that was something that was in short supply. And if he wanted them to stand aside he would have to sacrifice elements of the vanguard to stand watch over them. Still, the ghost of a plan began to form in his mind.
'Sir,' Yasha's voice cut in, sounding hurried. 'There are children among them.'
Philosir calmly placed the vox horn away from his face before he cursed some more, this time outwardly. He could not, in good conscience, leave a refugee convoy with children to fend for themselves.
'Sir?' Yasha asked over the vox.
'I'm still here, must have been a glitch of the vox.' Philosir lied. 'You and the other squad are to disembark and make sure those civilians don't do anything stupid. I'll make my way down there after I've spoken with the colonel.'
…
Yasha handed the vox horn back to the Munitorum driver and went back to her squad.
'Alright, my brave Qart-Hadashtim lads, time to disembark.' She said as the embarkation ramp of the Chimera lowered. 'We have some civilians who need babysitting.'
Her squad groaned at her words, not one of them was in the mood to deal with a miniature refugee crisis.
'Now now,' She began. 'The Emperor calls and we obey. And right now he is asking us to shepherd his wayward flock.' She smiled at her clever wordplay, but it quickly faded as she noted the deadpan stares her soldiers directed at her. 'I don't think I made myself clear. That was an order! Get your sorry backsides out of your cushy seats! ON THE DOUBLE!"
Now the Qart-Hadashtim soldiers wasted little time in disembarking. They grabbed their weapons and moved towards the crowd of desperate humanity who were now massing uncertainly before the imposing Imperial APC. the Guardsmen of Yasha's squad formed up between the refugees and Chimera. The refugees shot wary glances at the thin line of black and bronze, especially towards their lasrifles.
Sergeant Yasha removed her helmet, causing her curly hair to cascade alongside her face. She smiled at the people before her, hoping to reassure them. She wished for someone to reassure her.
What the frig am I supposed to do now? She thought. This was not something they covered back in bootcamp, the Guard taught its soldiers to solve most problems by shooting at them.
'Imperial?' One of the refugees asked, A man clothed in what must once have been the fine robes of a priest, now ragged and torn. His hair, like his beard, was ragged and unkempt and his eyes held a weariness in them that Yasha had come to know as the Refugee Stare.
'Aye,' Yasha said. 'I'm sergeant Yasha of the 49th Qart-Hadashtim Rifles, me and the rest of my regiment are here to drive the xenos of your world and restore the Pax Imperialis.'
'May the Emperor's blessing be upon you.' The man said. 'We feared Him on Earth would not heed our prayers.'
'The Emperor protects.' Yasha answered dutifully.
'Indeed he does, sergeant. You are proof of that.'
'How many of you are there?' She asked. 'Is there anything we can do to help?'
'I do not know exactly anymore,' the priest said. 'So many have fallen by the wayside or simply disappeared in the night.'
Alarm bells began ringing in Yasha's mind at the man's words.
'Are you saying you are being followed?' She asked.
The man was about to answer, but his reply was cut short by the Munitorum driver whose head now peaked out of the top hatch of the Chimera like a mole from its heap..
'Oi! How much longer is this going to take?' The driver called out angrily. 'I've got stuff and duties I need to do later.'
Later lasted about three seconds as the driver's head exploded like a ripe melon when a bullet found it's mark.
'Shit!' Yasha had time to say before the kindly priest she had been talking to crumbled into a lifeless heap when a round severed his spinal cord. Then indiscriminate gunfire ripped into the crowd of refugees. People were mowed down in droves, triggering a stampede as desperate men, women and children ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction.
Yasha's squad took positions behind what little cover there was.
'Get back in the Chimera,' Yasha snarled at Danel. 'Get on the vox and tell Philosir we don't just need his pretty voice to solve this problem. Tell him to bring a company! Shit, ask for the Sacred Band while you're at it! And tell him he's got a tidal wave of civilians incoming!'
Danel nodded and made a dash for the Chimera, weaving his way to the panicking crowd.
Yasha could now see faint outlines of wolflike creatures prowling behind the treeline, firing bulky autoguns into the rapidly dwindling crowd.
She looked behind her to trooper Birkanda, who carried the squad's flamethrower. She was currently pinned behind the armoured form of the Chimera unable to advance due to the withering alien fire.
She toggled her lasrifle to single shot and set her iron sights on a black furred brute. She squeezed the trigger and cursed in colourful Ponim as her shot missed the xeno and scored a charred impact on the tree bark next to its face.
The Guardsman next to her, Melqart, was wrenched back as if hit by a wrecking ball, his lower jaw shorn clean off. She looked at the corpse of someone she had fought beside for over five years and she felt her anger welling up. She toggled her lasrifle to full-auto and hosed the treeline with an inaccurate, but satisfying, barrage of lasfire until her power cell ran out.
The xeno fire slackened allowing the last of the refugees a somewhat safer escape. As she changed powercells Yasha began to wonder if she had managed to hit something, she also hoped Birkanda would be able to advance and send jets of burning promethium into the flammable trees. But her hopes were dashed as the lycans returned fire with a vengeance.
She prayed to the Emperor and Lady Tanit that Philosir would react swiftly and with overwhelming force.
…
Philosir grabbed the vox horn to his ear.
'What is it this time?" He grumbled.
He paled slightly when Danel relayed what was happening in the vanguard.
'Hold the line, trooper.' He said, knowing such a thing was easy to say but hard to actually do. 'I'll get you lot out of there.'
He broke the link and called up lieutenant Arisha whose platoon was the closest to offer assistance.
'Sir?' Her voice crackled over the vox.
'New orders,' Philosir barked, wasting no time. 'You and your platoon are to disembark at once and advance on foot towards sergeant Yasha's squad.'
'Disembark, sir?' Arisha asked.
'The road will soon be clogged with refugees, you'll make better time on foot.' Philosir replied. 'Now get to it!'
…
Yasha's position was starting to become untenable. One of her Gaurdsmen was already dead and two more bore injuries that knocked them out of the fight. So far they had only managed to score a single hit on the enemy, trooper Gebal had snapped off a quick shot and was rewarded with a yelp of pain from the lycans.
Just when she was sure a last stand seemed inevitable the comm-bead in her helmet came to life with the voice of lieutenant Arisha.
'Sergeant Yasha, I advise you to fall back to a secure location.' The lieutenant said in the same tone as if she were addressing a class of youths in the scholam. 'the Wrath of Tanit is inbound.'
Yasha gave two quick taps on her comm-bead, the signal the orders were understood.
She looked at the lumbering form of the APC. That would do as a secure location, especially for what was coming. The Wrath of Tanit was a Qart-Hadasthim term for an assault with concentrated fire from flamethrowers.
'Fall back to the Chimera!' She snarled. 'Carry the wounded!'
Her squad began to fall back in good order and sealed the ramp of the Chimera behind them as beams of lasfire from Arisha's platoon streaked by them. They were soon accompanied by jets of liquid flame that turned the forest into an inferno.
Yasha could not help but smile grimly as she heard animal shrieks of pain as the ambushers were consumed by the fire. She said a quick prayer for trooper Melqart, offering up the burning xenos as an offering to the Emperor and Tanit to ease his shade's passage to the afterlife.
