Characters

Helikian Guardsmen

Captain Moonsun, Robert- Battalion Commander of The Tarth Expeditionary Force 2nd Battalion

Lieutenant Fell, Yzir- Company Commander of the Tarth Expeditionary Force 2nd Battalion Ferrus Company

Sergeant Zhell, Darius- Platoon Sergeant of Astra Company 2nd Battalion of the Tarth Expeditionary Force

Sergeant Sage, Dak- Supply Sergeant of 2nd Battalion of the Trath Expeditionary Force

Specialist Aster, Jag- Guidon bearer of 2nd Battalion of the Tarth Expeditionary Force

Imperial Navy

Admiral Alexander "Ship Master"- Admiral of all ships under the Tarth banner

Tarthian Guardsmen

Captain Hilko, Dak- Battalion Commander of the Tarth Expeditionary Force 1st Battalion

Tarth Civilians

Citizen Moonsun, Raken- Adopted Cousin of Captain Moonsun

Iron Drakes

The Chapter Master- Unnamed Chapter Master of the Iron Drakes frequently refereed to as "The Drake" or "The Great Drake"

For Tarth the siege was a singular battle,

those there it was a week of fear.

Under equipped and taken by surprise,

this would be the catalyst that would change

how the Imperial Guard would fight for the wars to come.

-The Historian

"Fire!" volleys of lasfire were flung against the braves. All of the braves were survivors of a multitude of battles knew the only cover worthwhile was the large trees and stones. Fail that, they threw themselves on the ground and began to crawl at an inhumane pace. While the brush near the outpost was cleared of all debris and cover during the creation of the base. The tribals had brought siege equipment in the form of movable cover no more than just large stones to hide men behind carried on their backs or by cart slowly moved into place in the darkness. Where once there was no cover for 100 meters only the barren dirt carved into the forest by zealous guardsmen, now only a scant few meters remained untouched by the tribes. Who tried their best to create artificial cover and concealment to both lethal efficiency or laughable memories like the "elite" braves hiding under red blankets.

The guardsmen were weary after over a week of endless combat. The only defense that kept thousands of blood thirsty braves outside their walls was their inability to understand the concept of what a siege was. In reality only a few dozen such stones could provide true cover for the braves, but there was enough stones to cause the guardsmen to hit stones at an alarming increase rather than their chosen targets. It wouldn't take long before the braves went back into the forests to hide until night Fell thought. Victory during the day was always guaranteed for the fort which only added more mystery why the tribals tried to attack every day when the sun was at its peak. They didn't even fight continuously it was almost as if they only attacked when they desired and even then at some of the times where defeat was only an assured thing.

Recently, the braves had begun creating ladders that looked tall enough and sturdy enough to reach the walls fortunately they never reached the walls. This was confusing as the gate laid wide open for them. The wooden gate of the outpost was long ago destroyed by the braves with fire and ax in the first surprise attack. The butcher bill on the tribal side was enormous for just a wooden gate and a few tents, but the guard held and the tribes refused to back down. Perhaps in the pit of their ignorant mind they understood once these outposts fell their thousands could then swarm the city and perhaps even cast the Imperial forces back into the dark embrace of the void. Perhaps they believed the Lord Drake was a daemonic entity who bestowed great chaotic spewing "Torch throwers" upon equally damnable men.

The first days was las filled with hundreds of them falling to the volleys of Imperial guns. They slowly learned what could be used as cover and soon began their bloody march to create their stone cover. The guardsmen prior to the siege had no warning. The braves continued to poke and prod but somehow manage to hide their movements. It was only a day later they were able to sneak a messenger out to reach the town as their vox was broken mess, the VTO* unable to figure out how to fix it, in the first surprise attack where a dozen braves managed to sneak into the base and wreck havoc upon the outpost. The thunder hawks that usually came to do flybys or drop off supplies were under maintenance as was usual during the last week of the month which was further compounded by the fact the _ had left on another mission taking most of the vehicles that were borrowed for 2nd Battalion's use. At the end of the day no matter how he looked at it there was no excuse. The guardsmen garrisoned here had become complacent and allowed their day to day task become an easily remembered routine for the braves to take advantage over.

The truth of the matter for Lieutenant Fell was he had roughly two hundred men in fighting shape with fifty in desperate need of evacuation even with the compress bandages and rudimentary tourniquets. Those in fighting shape were all wounded to some degree mostly due to friendly fire. A grenade exploding much too close to his men, A lasgun overheating and burning a soldier's hands or a simple fearful warrior stabbing his friend in the dark. The siege was draining his men. He looked across the rampart and wondered how many were truly killed. The tribes ordered their braves to immediately stay down if they were hit, and the Helikian honor demanded they let the tribal dead be carried home to be buried with their ancestors. A curios mind had begun to whisper in Fell's ear that perhaps many of the confirmed kills were simply wounded braves ordered to stay still to further confound the guardsmen and make them doubt that the human waves would end.

Captain Moonsun was miles away and Sergeant Darius made good time with exhausted warriors who seemingly had to sprint across the forest for a day to inform him that he was surrounded. Information he learned the moment he woke up to the sounds of beating drums and thrown spears a week ago. The early warning served little to no purpose as even if he was strategically surrounded there was only one route to take to attack Outpost 4B. Fell could only pray to the Imperial saints and The God Emperor that Outpost 4A was able to hold out of the selfish desire to keep the pressure off his own outpost and his own men.

The natives couldn't know that the impossibly high wooden walls that reached only 5 meters with a 2 meter pit dug in front of them was of exceedingly low quality. The wooden walls were from local trees cut to create the dead mans land before the fort. The walls were suppose to contain packed dirt between the exterior and interior wall were only packed with the dirt from the pit and what dirt needed to be dug into to make a flat area for the wall. If the tribes were to cut into the walls they would find that the dirt would quickly spill out and fill the trenches with little problem. Fortunately, the guardsmen had placed enough pressure on the tribesmen to force them to focus on the obvious entry into the fort that being the gate. A trench was meant to be made for the gate and a draw bridge created, but Lieutenant Fell decided against such a design out of worry that the rhinos couldn't enter and leave on such a weak platform. Only now did he regret it. The work seemed so... pointless against men who used sharpened sticks for war. Only now would he admit he failed in fortifying his outpost. Meanwhile, his sister fortress was made to Robert's specifications if Lieutenant Saiz had kept his word.

"Sir!" a nondescript private saluted. His uniform or rather his pants was soiled with dirt, blood and cleansing oils for his lasgun. His beret had an obvious tear marking him as the luckiest bastard on this base. Only his flak jacket was worn in a desperate attempt to keep the heat off while remaining protected. "You're needed in the BDOC*" a moment was about to pass. Fell felt the sudden desire to say something true and honest was this one of those moments his son's books talked about. The moment where the leader would say something insightful and memorable for decades? Days of lying to his men about their salvation was only hours away and the weight of the lies had finally torn down the walls of his mental resilience. The desire to finally speak the truth even if to some unknown guardsmen held some un-explainable merit.

"I have to say we're all dead men walking. I give it a handful of days before we are overwhelmed" The guardsman was taken off guard by the blunt admission of his CO*. While it was common for the lower enlisted to speak openly about their fate. It was a different thing to hear from the one who led them for days against the natives. "If only Captain Moonsun was here. We would've sent these cowards to the warp damned place they call home. Instead here we are surrounded, weak and dying to a bunch of unenlightened spear chuckers."

"Lord Drake will come. He will send these tribals to the warp where they belong." in the deep recesses of his mind, Fell remembered using those exact words as he rallied the men during the first assault in the dead of night as the men fought tooth and nail to push the natives back past the gate. In that moment he believed. Now, he could feel the lies in those words. The false hope that only burdened the inept commander.

"If he was coming to save us don't you think he would've been here by now? We don't even have air support. We are just unnecessary resources. Hold this pass or don't, it won't matter for anyone. The Great Drake will only intervene when it affects his chapter. Our base in tribal lands benefits no one but the miners and hunters who travel deep into the forests even then they could be protected by a dozen guardsmen."

"He came with Captain Hilko. He will come again with Helikian step at his back. Captain Moonsun has been burning villages for days now. Sergeant Darius has reinforced us with a dozen head hunters. We cannot fail with the people of Tarth at our backs! We are the wall that protects the valley. Without these bases, the tribes would raze the city to the ground."

Fell withdrew from his dump pouch the medal or rather pin that all those fighting on Rivia earned. It was as pristine as the day it was given to him. Fell handed it to the guardsman motioning for the soldier to inspect it and get a feel of the weight. How was he to explain to a brand new guardsman fresh from the lengthy Helikian indoctrination that he too believed days before. Phrases commonly yelled in formations like "There was no steel like Helikian steel!" or the bold mottos that boldly proclaimed Cadian troopers were just common swill compared to a Helikian conscript. The evidence was clear to Fell as he saw the state of his command. Helikian steel was nothing special. A platoon of Cadians could've easily held this base and countered the tribal degenerates. Here he was with over 2 companies worth of men hiding in their hovel wishing for the Great Drake to come out and save them. It was a joke Helikian steel was no stronger than the spears thrown at them in the cover of night.

"Its nothing more than a lump of metal used to symbolize what we fought for. I cannot recall the Drake wearing this badge of honor on his chest. I don't remember any citizen thanking me for burning their dead. We are like this lump of metal. Given freely and without consequence without thought of the sacrifice it's meant to represent. We will die here and a large lump of metal will be placed here to remember our last stand." Fell felt no better or worse for speaking such a length rant to the junior man. A moment of clarity overcame him as the siege continued day by day leaving the question of legacy on his heart. Last stand or no last stand there was always a survivor. Someone would remember his name. If not for his words then as the commander who failed to protect this base.

At a brisk pace Fell could reach the BDOC in a minute or two. The burned husks of 4 larger guard tents housed the garrison each far enough away from the wall to prevent any collateral damage from occurring if the walls fell. In the first assault, the tribesmen killed the sentries quietly and managed to burn the tents with the sleeping soldiers in them. Fortunately, no one died due to that, but the vox was ruined and the men were forced to sleep in large packs without any overhead cover.

The only indoor area was the side of the mountain that was mined away to create a cave to house the intricate vox system needed to operate the base, boxes of rations and a rudimentary armory without walls. Las pack charge stations hummed with power as they charged stacks of las pack . Additional rifles, grenades and parts laid splayed on tables recently used to try and salvage a Lasgun that melted it's own barrel. This was the extent of the headquarters. It was spartan only providing the bare necessities to keep these men alive. Only a dozen men could sleep here and even then guardsmen were forced to walk over them as they went about their daily duties. After the first two days no one dared to sleep in the cave as the number of incidents of falling objects, being stepped on and the bloodstains from the tribal death squad left few guardsmen willing to ruin their sleep over.

Amidst all of this, Sergeant Darius was hunched over looking at what little inventory the base had with a scowl. Three Frag rounds and a box of flares were the last bits of ammunition for their three mortars. Only a belt was left for the two stubber crews and a disapproving eye looked to some unknown head hunter dumping the promethium cans over to show they were all empty much to Darius' chagrin.

"The natives don't rule the skies why are we out of everything? Don't the Thunderhawks have the time to supply a base under siege?" Darius' hands were at his hips and his head shaking no doubt wishing he could yell at his superior officer.

"We can only request supplies but last I checked Sergeant the only worthwhile gear we have are all at these outposts already" Sergeant Darius refused to back down. His dark skinned hid his growing embarrassment at information he originally gave out prior to the attacks when Alexander the Ship master warned the guard he was going to take his vehicles from the guard to prepare and survey the surrounding region for a good place for the naval academy.

"Or you can explain why the large open area we have that could land a thunderhawk is off limits because you've filled it with trenches and metal stakes." Darius' eyes narrowed as he looked at the inept commander. In Darius' eyes he should've had Fell's job. The only reason why he lost out was because Robert wanted him to remain in his battalion as his right hand man and his own inability to read. This siege only seemed to make Darius bitter over Fell's promotion. If Fell remembered correctly many under his command were Sergeant Darius' original squad during the Rivian Conflict.

"The gate was destroyed in the first night. We have to prepare in the events the walls fall too"

"You're a Helikian officer this should've never happened." a textbook rebuke Fell was sure he would hear until his dying days. Another black mark on his family name.

"Well it did sergeant. Anything else you want to complain about sergeant? Or would you like to tell me how we will win?" Darius bit his tongue for once in his life while dealing with Fell before grunting out he had called for all the senior NCOs* and squad leaders to assemble in 5 minutes for a forum on ideas on how to beat the natives or to share other knowledge that would help their current situation

The wait for the meeting was excruciatingly painful with Darius glaring at Fell refusing to speak after he vocalized his lack of faith in Fell. Who didn't speak out of fear he would only exasperate Darius' disposition and create another argument between the pair. Eventually, the men arrived and Fell began his brief recapping what they already knew and what needed to be done before the forum would be open to any ideas.

The dangers of the tribals was simple. Two companies worth of lasrifles needed to be reloaded, maintained and disciplined in their volleys lest the human waves hit them. The moment one rifle was silenced it wouldn't take long for a critical moment to occur which the chaos of battle would cause firing lines to become tangled and not only end in fratricide, but it would thrust a quick and violent end to the las rifle volleys required to just hold the line.

A heavy bolter or stubber would be useful by breaking up the enemy charge or a flame to simply stop their foe in their tracks. These options of course were off limits due to the simple fact that the forge world only provided the most basic in equipment. The three primitive mortars alone were considered an very lucky break for the battalion. A single box of high explosive frag and flares was seen as a treasure to be jealously guarded.

Such treasure was quickly spent to keep his men alive last night. Bayonet, lasgun and the last vestiges of hope were his only resources left unless men were holding out on frag grenades. Darius' headhunters while morale boosting were no better than the average guardsman stuck in this pillbox of death.

"We should consider surrendering the walls" the words weighed like a noose upon their necks. Every Helikian knew giving up a fortification was a death sentence to their fellows. Any fortification no matter how well designed could eventually serve a purpose against those who labored upon them. The walls were no exception.

"We only give the walls to tribal archers. If we tear the down somehow we give them a wall to earth to protect them. If we leave them, we will be like grox led to the slaughter"

"We stay on those walls. We will be picked off one by one from the safety of their forest." Those words stung like an executioners ax before the final swing. That order would result in a last stand giving up the literal wall that kept the human waves outside.

Days locked up in the fort had built up anger, resentment and the pent up aggression every living creature would create when cornered without hope. All the men felt it prickling the outskirts of the thoughts and reasoning. The ability to suppress the cocktail of aggression was easily managed when hope was on the horizion, but the loss of Gladius 1 had only intensified the fear until finally one of the soldiers snapped.

"For thrones sake! I say we give them a taste of their own damned medicine. We should meet them head on! Slaughter them in their own damned beds and show them what Helikian Steel can really do!" The words were forgettable, but the defenders within the confines of Outpost 4 Astra needed release. The constant bombardments of arrows. The daily attacks and the uncertainty of death gnawed at their bellies worse than any food shortage they ever faced.

A desperate last charge held merit for the defenders. A guarantee of death and glory was outside those wooden gates. One only needed to reach out and grasp the glorious death. No one would blame him. Cut off from resupply, days of constant siege and a defiant charge that ended in defeat. Fell could see it now. Tarthians mockingly crying in the streets while secretly harboring joy, Captain Moonsun finally being relieved of duty, and the Great Drake ending the contract on Helikia resulting in another food shortage. This battle would end Helikia if they lost. If they won, this would only be one of many battles to scratch their place on Tarth.

"We have our orders. We hold this outpost until we are relieved. For Helikia!" The soldiers gave out half hearted responses. As they stood up and passed the word to their fireteam leaders who would in turn tell their guardsmen. Fell was left with only his command squad. A young guidon carrier named Sero, Sergeant Darius and two riflemen named "Ears" and "Eyes" two adept scouts renown for their individual skills being honed to a knife's edge that had saved many a guardsmen during training.

The command squad was as unique as it was helpful. There was no box, specialty weapon or Commissar to push the enemy back. The guidon itself was unremarkable. It was a simple golden sun with triangles for its Ray's to surround it on a banner of red. Gold to symbolize their heroism and red for their sacrifice. There were no battle honors or decorations of fine history like many other line companies could boast. It was a simple flag created by one of the supply sergeant's wife. Used out of practicality rather than significance.

Fell looked to see the sun had only begun it's slow descent to wake the tribals. Men wore ponchos as they prepared to bed down. Guard shifts were being organized by junior NCOs while senior NCOs redistributed beans, bullets and bandages to guardsmen and reconstituting squads to pull together a lopsided monster with some squads filled with veterans and others filled with the undesirables. Fell began to bed down himself when the final report came to him guaranteeing 157 fit soldiers with 72 dead and 21 injured. Fell found his thoughts drifting on tactics, battles and his own growing cynicism.

That shrieked that they were on foreign soil, under a foreign flag and waiting for foreign friends to save them. This was no Helikian death. This was a crude mockery of what Fell was indoctrinated to believe. His dead soldiers sat exposed to the elements already rotting as he refused to bury them at the site of their death. Boys conscripted unfairly out of their rightful deaths under a Helikian banner.

Darkness calmly began to steal Fell's thoughts. In a corner of his mind he felt the dreams would soon replace the torment running through his wandering thoughts. He finally let sleep take him with a final vow to ease his mind

"Outpost 4 Astra this is Gladius 1 over"

"Gladius 1 this is Ferrus 6 send it"

"Ferrus 6, Outpost 4 Bellator has fallen, break. I see natives swarming the base over"

"Gladius 1 that's a good copy. What's the status on gun runs for tonight over"

"Ferrus 6, we can guarantee gun runs over but for now we are headed back to base over"

"Ferrus 6 acknowledges. The Emperor protects"

"The Emperor protects"

-Lieutenant Fell

Lieutenant Fell was forced awake by Specialist Aster. A tough guardsman who survived the plague war not during to his strength, but his quick thinking as he fixed a mortar tube during the battle and managed to shove a few rounds down range before the battle lines were too tangled to dare fire into. "Sir, Fiend reports movement. Sergeant Darius cannot confirm it without a flare." Fell wearily rubbed his face and grabbed his rifle already dressed for combat as he stumbled after Aster.

He was angry that they woke him up to do what any guardsman should be able to do, but it was the right call to wake him before they started firing into the dark like blind grox herders and wasted what precious ammunition they had left. A good call that left Fell more than angry his XO died in the opening da- night of the siege. The few men they walked past that were awake didn't salute but merely made subtle head movements to show that they acknowledged his existence as per field regulation. Most were playing "Legions and Warlords" a card game that Fell found repugnant with a fictional tale explain why each card does this or that. He tried his best to purge it out of the unit and replace it with more respectable dice games only to find the game had spread like wild fire and to his chagrin he found that a card for The Iron Drake was created leaving Fell unwilling to pursue any further action out of fear that the Chapter Master himself enjoyed his status as a Warlord card.

Fell went out of his way to casually kick dirt on anyone playing the game as he walked past receiving glares or rolled eyes from the older guardsmen long past desensitized to Fell's irrational hate for the Tarthian card game. Half a dozen men manned the wall with Sergeant Darius among them with a man pack vox shoved on the battlements. He motioned with his head to where Fiend was as he spoke on the radio no doubt to the rest of the headhunters about their predicament. Odd that Sergeant Darius' vox worked but not the base installed vox guaranteed to work and reach Tarth in the middle of a rainy season by the tech priest.

"Don't you see it? They're everywhere in the trees!" Fell was thrown out of his thoughts of questioning the lies of the Adeptus Mechanicus by a very very jittery guardsman who seemingly came out of nowhere and clung to Fell's hip. He was practically hiding behind Fell using his CO as a human meat shield much to Fell's shame.

"Calm down guardsman, I can't see anything in this darkness, and I just got here." The blatant disrespect and lack of discipline was one commissar away from no longer being a problem. Fortunately, the Iron Drake seemed distant in regards of equipping the guard and in effect the commissars to discipline the new guard units. Perhaps fortunate was too strong of a word, Fell should just take up the mantle to get Fiend out of his face and a moment more of rest.

"That's the point!" Fiend prattled on not at all ashamed of his behavior or the impatience of his commanding officer "they always have torches going at night even if its past what we can see. We see smoke from their camp fires but we can't see anything! This is it sir! This is the final battle!" Fell didn't quite trust 'Fiend' on much outside of his knowledge of Helikian rules and regulations. His track record was drugs, bad information and little to no backbone. Helikian bred didn't guarantee that they had the same resolve so many other of his comrades held. Unfortunately, he said one too many logical things or Fell's own paranoia had reached an all time high. Fell only had a dozen flares and using one now didn't exhaust their supply, but they only lit up the night sky for only a few minutes if that. One here and there would only waste this valuable resource and could result in the last of the flares being used for a drug addicts night light.

The seconds clicked by and Fell couldn't see or hear anything. Fiend only continued to whisper his fears and shake as he laid there. Cursing under his breath for trusting this fool Fell hit the hand mic. "I need a Flare on Terra Primus 6." the vox didn't squack out another reply as it had done earlier. Instead, the luminescent flare was thrown from its tube to speed its way high into the sky before falling back down in a graceful fall. The light showed everything. Enemy braves had lined the tips of the forest in their hundreds. Dozens more crawled their ways across no mans land with ladders sprinkled among pairs of them some were too close for any comfort. A small group had already crossed into the trenches no longer filled with promethium. For once, Fiend was right and the guardsmen on the wall immediately took action by firing freely into the closest bodies.

A gut wrenching yell of the natives far cry cut into the resolve of the defenders. A mass of bodies rushed from the treeline to the fort walls. The ladders were quickly being brought to the forefront only to be blasted by the defenders by las fire. At least a dozen ladders were being used by the attackers who found the main focus of Lieutenant Fell's focus. The guardsmen moved in a way that even the Iron Drake would be proud surely, There was no chaos of what was happening. Many men slept in their designated firing positions or they were a swift climb to the top of the wall. The six lasguns were soon 4 dozen strong in a matter of moments while the broken gate was manned by the remains of the defenders led by Sergeant Varr.

The Braves were organized much in the same way. The younger generation fired the bows along with some elders. The lion share of warriors being armed simply with spear and club. Fell searched their ranks for some tell tale irregularities in the ranks of a moving wave of bodies as he ran across the wall moving firing positions, yelling orders and trying his best to stand side by side with these brave defenders. Against all odds, the tribe made the death march to reach the gate dying swiftly as the bottleneck allowed the stubber crews and designated defenders to simply fire disciplined volleys into the tired disorganized mess of the first tribesmen to escape the marksmen on the walls. Those at the gates soon found the stubbers stuttering out the last few rounds before needing to reload. A fresh push soon came to the forefront as the natives felt the change of pace in the resistance the gate's fire laxed as the stubber crews tried to conserve what little they had.

"Light them up!" The weapons sergeant demanded upon seeing the stubber crews load their last belt in. Specialist Aster didn't show any acknowledgement only hefting the tube, base plate and all, to directly aim it at the gate as guardsman Zhell shoved the rounds in quick succession trusting Specialist Aster to maintain his grip on the tube. The result was spectacular. The first round impacted the center of those rushing in through the gate immediately halting the brave's charge. The second exploded on the side of the gate causing wood to splinter and crack everywhere forcing those to duck and cover as they felt dozens of wooden splinters slice and stab into their exposed muscles. The last round fired past the gate into the darkness, but the cries of pain in the distance were audible even here behind the positions of the guardsmen.

The first ladders reached the wall. This was a first as all others had been rebuffed when they still had frag, krak and stubber fire. The natives chanted as the ladder was slowly being raised to its full length at the edge of the pit. Until a well placed shot soon had it fall into the pit along with two brave natives. Unsurprisingly, natives jumped into the pit only to break bones or cry out in agony as they found that it wasn't just the dead in the trenches but some of the wild life too. The ladders were now shown to be ineffective and useless as far as Fell was concerned leaving the only route to attack being the gate. A death trap where a dozen knife wielding guardsmen could reap a bloody cost. There was no ingenious ideas from the natives. They were beat for today if Sergeant Darius was correct about their ammunition.

The nagging thought of a charge ran though Fell's mind still. Tribals tried to attack to only find the lasfire burn through their bodies or blow off their limbs. The human wave receded as the youth needed to gather their strength and bravery as they watched the wholesale slaughter of the first wave. Those that managed to escape past the gate and the initial lasfire were brutally cut down, stabbed or beaten to death by a dozen bayonet wielding guardsmen ordered to protect the breach. This was no battle like the days before only a turkey shoot. The death toll came from the lucky arrow or thrown spear rather than attacks and counterattacks from such a simple people.

Fell finally spotted a change in tactics within the second charge as he saw a surge of new young men try to brave the lasfire under flare light. The main attack was coming from the sides still trying to get their much too short of ladders to a good position. Down the center, he saw a large log being rolled to the gate by a dozen young braves. "By the throne! What are they doing? They already destroyed the gates!?" The answer swiftly came as the natives were able to quickly roll the log to the wall where it quickly rolled into the trench line filled with bodies and broken ladders. The natives cheered and a horn was blown.

Fell saw it dozens more of these logs came rolling forward each with a dozen or so braves. They rolled as quickly as they could the first volley hit the men rolling the first log. Those not killed were quickly trampled by the next team of rollers as they began trying to fill the trench ignoring the cries of their fellows as the logs fell upon them. This attack was no doubt poorly coordinated within their ranks as Fell saw those in the left most trench flee only moments before this new attack began. From the trees stronger and taller looking ladders emerged, they looked brand new quite possibly made during this attack or only hours prior as Fell could still see the greenery from the branches.

Soon the walls found the trenches were filling up fast with the bodies of the dead and the logs from the forest. "Sergeant Darius get over here!" over the war cries and lasfire a barely audible voice rang out and moments later Darius emerged his man pack slung over his shoulder and eyes wild. "Sir!?"

"Tell the stubber crews to get up here!" a nod of acknowledgement as he voxed to the man pack down below operated by another head hunter. In moments had his answer before Darius said a word as he threw up his arms and cursed into the mic.

"Throne take me I will send them on a black ship myself! Sir stubber crews are out of munitions!"

"Gladius 1-" Sergeant Darius opened the man pack changing the channel to Gladius 1 "-promised heavy bolter fire get them up!"

Fell spied Darius nodding as he handed over the mic to Fell.

"Ferrus 6 this is Gladius 1 ETA 2 minutes load out pattern Terra" Fell did the calculations in his head. Terra pattern meant a smaller load out with a little over a dozen rounds for the main cannon, two lascannons and quite the hefty payload for the bolters.

"Gladius 1 this is Ferrus 6 I need it on phase line Calix!" shortly after the transmission, the thunder hawk appeared it hovered above the fort and delivered the retribution that the guardsmen craved. The treeline was eradicated by bolt, lascannon and cannon fire. Even under the light from the flares, Fell couldn't see the hidden foes dying. He only saw the slowly growing pink mist cover the treeline. Bodies seemed to randomly explode towards the sky arms outstretched in a parody of life as their bodies moved in their death throes.

The back breaking third wave that began to muster was blown apart by the air support firing without abandon into the designated area. They only found bolt rounds explode in front of them after cutting into their bodies with ease. Their thin unprotected bodies simply didn't have enough mass for the bolt rounds to honor their foe by exploding within their bodies. Those natives who were already in no mans land found reinforcement cut off and the ladders forgotten as the rear ranks broke and fled. The front waves much too close tot the fort already were forced to press on and meet quick deaths at the hands of the defenders.

The thunder hawk while devastatingly powerful was still only a single thunder hawk that slowly panned its guns across the huge swathes of forest. The main battle cannon and lascannons had a devastating effect to those who tried to dig holes or hide under the cover of trees by causing trees to collapse under their own weight and fling the trees themselves to anywhere and everywhere. Despite this, the thunder hawk crew even with their instruments couldn't see and identify every target or target cluster. Unknown to them, they wasted valuable ammunition on wandering animals much too far to be close to the natives or firing into packs of long dead bodies. The natives had also grown accustom to seeing the thunder hawks, and the pain they brought at least for the elite natives that survived the sacking of Outpost 4B.

Bolt casings fell to the ground as if they were just the pellets of rain bringing life to the land instead of the deadly snap hiss that promised only death or permanent injury. Arrows pelted the thunder hawk only to cause the thunder hawk to ascend only a few mere meters to completely avoid the possible scratches to their paint jobs. The sounds of screeching was heard. The natives had a few larger avian beasts they used as messengers from what the Tarth Eggheads said. While they had never engaged a thunder hawk. No one wanted to find out what would happen if one flew into one of the thrusters and from what Fell had seen they would never send these precious pets attack.

"Sir Gladius 1 is amber! They are returning back to base!"

"What? They finally did something for the first time in a week. Tell them to hold tight!"

"Sir orders are straight from the Fleet Master!" Fell looked around him as the defenders on the wall went from triumphant to hopeless. They almost routed their foe and the moment the thunder hawk's afterburners lit and sped away the natives enraged surged forward in a final charge.

"Dig deep men we have a job to do! I was just told the Iron Drake himself will lead a great offensive!" lies spewed from Fell's mouth, but the invoking of the man wh- The demi-god who had built Tarth had roused even the most bitter heart to hold his rifle a little tighter and waken the warrior spirit to be brave a moment longer when soon their rifles would be no better than a club.

A chorus of war cries rang out over the battlefield on both sides. The tribes saw the gate had less and less resistence as rifles found themselves empty, ladders were only scant meters away and the trenches filled. Men stood from their firing positions bayonets fixed and with a fire in their eyes from being at the mercy of these "braves". The men in an unspoken order had fixed bayonets earlier during the respite that the thunder hawk had brought. The thunder hawk devastated the words, but the braves hiding among the foliage and a few even managed to somehow escape the wrath of the hawk and soon ladders were docked against the battlements and the guardsmen on the walls were being repelled their rifles more of a hindrance against the tribal war clubs with their rifles turned into spears without a spear tip for those few green guardsmen too green to realize the need to mount their blades. Bodies fell as arrows found their marks and many more died in the initial charge meeting the weakened line of braves who had come down from the woods. Only now would the braves see how strong Helikian steel was as like two starving men they fought over the scraps of the outpost in a deadly brawl.

Fell found his bayonet in a child's eye and with rage he tore out his bayonet to engage the next brave shoving his rifle into his guts and pressing his trigger to get the dead weight off of it. Carnage surrounded the officer as men tore into the natives with bayonet, rifle, shovel and helmets. The fighting on the wall was especially brutal as one didn't need a weapon only a well placed kick to send his opponent spiraling down to the ground. All around the battlefield the Helikians were berserk final able to truly fight their foe in front of them instead the impending doom that hid in the forest or firing at teams of ladder carriers or firing at the unstoppable log crews.

The next foe found a knife twisting in his leg and Fell swinging his helmet into his chin leaving a trail of blood and teeth before Fell gained the dominate position and banged his helmet into the natives face. A broken nose and terrified eyes looked for mercy. Another hit and those eyes were left eternally open and a mouth open as if in a silent scream with a grunt of victory, Fell pushed the body off the battlements down to the ground to show his fellows what waited at the top. "PURGE THIS FILTH FROM MY FORT!" men yelled back their own war cries as their rage continued ascending the ladders now to tear off the natives, who managed to create a foothold, as they tried to fire arrows at the horde of guardsmen. They were only met with las hitting them as they stood up to fire or clubbed and stabbed to death by those guardsmen who viciously tore into the little horde of desperate tribesmen.

"Jag! get our colors dancing on this wall wall! Show them that this outpost will never fall as long as we breath!" the youth nodded with a determination that surprised the officer. The youth waved the massive flag before yelling his own war cry calling those behind him cowards and rushing to stand on the top of the battlements and wave the flag without fear. Soon arrows found themselves loosed at the youth to only find lasfire raining down at them as the guardsmen tried their best to protect their colors.

"For Helikia! For Helikia push!" the walking wounded had joined the attack how few there were. Where one was missing an arm another used his own to aid in the firing. Where one missed a leg another would carry him to the next firing position. Helikian Steel would not falter for its triumphant moment like some Burning Star merchant.

The next hour was bloody. The guardsmen offset the superior numbers of their foe with the expert use of bayonet and few rounds of las they jealously protected the use of. Those who shot with the accuracy of a marksmen found themselves protected by those who discarded their rifles in favor of knives, spears or shovels. The guardsmen who went to protect the gate managed to haul debris to plug the gate with refuse of dead bodies and the logs pulled from the trenches so that reached one's waist. Ever so slowly, the natives ladders were tossed aside and the natives found themselves lacking the means to reach the attackers. After an hour of the bloody counter attack. The Braves slowly pulled back to no grand show as they slowly stopped the offensive.

The fort was filled to the brim from the carnage of the battle. Men uselessly laid on the ground with hastily made seals or bandages used to desperately plug jigsaw shaped wounds. Their weapons were of simple make, but these were weapons made to balance damage, simplicity and weight to create barbed arrows that almost exploded upon entering flesh or the terrible jagged wounds created by their war axes. Rifles were uselessly piled up beaten and in some cases broken beyond repair. Their material and craft far better than the tribals could only take so much head and pressure from overhead strikes until they bent. Orders were given to secure the wall as the guard began the terrible recovery of their fallen men, equipment and weapons.

In it all as if by some cruel mockery as Fell examined the triage doing his best to inspire men to survive their wounds, Fell saw the broken body of the messenger that Darius sent earlier in the day.

"Sir" a crisp salute was attempted. His hand smacked his forehead as if it was going in slow motion, and the boys eyes had a glossy glaze that had formed over his eyes as if he were about to sleep.

"Don't worry boy the Space Marines are here" as Fell moved to look the boy eye to eye as if he was his father. Surviving more than 3 decades meant that for many of his men, he might as well be old enough to be the father they left behind in the crevices of their memories. heaving coughs of blood leaped onto Lieutenant Fell's face. A spear had pieced his one of his lungs if what little human anatomy Fell knew held up. The spear was cut so only a hand length worth of the spear still stood out on the young mans body. From the sounds of his breathing, He had been fighting for life for longer than one could consider bearable. The boys hand shakily moved to place something into Fell's hand.

"metal" the boy huffed out struggling to form the words coherently enough for Fell to understand. Fell only heard nonsense from the gurgling of the boy. Instead of trying to understand the boy, Fell held his hand and just nodded lying and agreeing to everything he didn't understand the boy say all the while he swore up and down the Iron Drake was coming specifically for him with a medic who knew exactly what to do. The boy in his dying moments believed everything and simply smiled trusting the Astartes had traveled miles alone fighting millions of natives coming to relieved a med kit. The moment his eyes closed, Fell moved onto the next dying guardsmen to tell him the same lie just as he had done everyday for the last week reciting the same elaborate story he recited in his mind every morning.

The Drake walked among us. The earth seemed to buckle as it attempted to provide enough resistance for the Astarte to simply not crack into its shell. He stood a horrifying height. Where most men reached the Astarte's chest. Fell found himself in the awkward predicament of being much too level with the Astarte's codpiece than the top of his breast plate. A very awkward situation if Fell was a few inches shorter.

Hours after the attack, Sergeant Darius had finally been able to directly reach their rescuers. They were told help was coming days ago, but the press of the natives made it feel as if it was nothing more than a lie to keep the men fighting instead of surrendering. The Great Drake informed him to be prepared for an attack in coordination with the headhunters and the Chapter Masters force. Fell insured the men were ready once again redistributing food, water and ammo. They waited all night everyone awake with the energy that could only come with a promised battle could bring. When the time came the attack was called off to the relief of the men inside.

After an eternity stuck in his thoughts,Fell cleared his throat and saluted and began his report. "The first day we only just forced them back from the walls, Berg managed to get a shout out before his throat was slit. I'm sorry we were unable to hold them off better lord" The Astarte waved away those words as if they were nothing.

"You did the best that anyone in your circumstances could have done soldier, be proud of that." Fell stood a bit straighter at such praise from a demi-god nonetheless. Fell had expected to be questioned why he wasn't adequately supplied. In truth the situation was embarrassing. The vox was never destroyed. The VTO had forgotten the proper frequency and never realized that was the issue and the vox that could've sent for help or requested supplies was silenced. When Outpost 4B requested help on vox they received the lion share of the supplies and aid as they were able to speak to the thunder hawks. Alexander as a rule never wanted to waste precious hawks and possibly kill someone with a falling crate or be ambushed and unable to speak directly to a fort. The lack luster victory rested fully on Captain Roberts inability to communicate and create the proper channels for when such an event would happen. A mistake no Helikian would voice out of pride with many of them spitting at the Tarth QRF claiming they had the natives on the ropes.

The truth of the matter was a grey issue on why the natives couldn't destroy the weaker of the sister forts. The natives could've easily taken the fort if they had rallied. The head hunters believed a large amount of natives went home due to the raiding of their supply lines. They argued many times the number that attacked the fort had originally went against Outpost 4B otherwise how would it have fallen. It was a question for another time with hopefully none of it being Fell's problem.

2nd Battalion lost a third of its manpower.

Winning the battle won them respect, but they lost

the ability to capitalize on such a victory once again

forced to take a back seat to Tarthian Regiments.

-Biography of General Sosa

"Lieutenant Fell, Sergeant Darius told me your base was a death trap." it was the truth especially from all the mistakes he had made laxing his own command presence in exchange for what they all thought would be a cushy but boring garrison duty.

"I failed to fortify and secure my sector as you ordered me to."

"Your men tell me differently. That you alone held back the tide with your words and tactics."

"I thought we were only listening to Sergeant Darius' perspective? We failed to hold. If it wasn't for you and the headhunters and of course the Iron Drake we would all be dead."

"You were still able to hold a death trap for a week without help. I think that makes your achievement all the more impressive."

"I lost over a hundred boys and Emperor knows how many will leave after their enlistment papers are up."

"We will see in the future. I want you in charge of Task Force 1 immediately. Pick your command squad 1300 is first formation on the pad. The Great Drake has decided we will hold the pass. He's allocated Ferrocrete and heavy bolters fresh from the forge world to aid in your defense. You are dismissed warrior" Fell gave a stiff salute to his old friend before making his way out the door before he caught Robert's last words.

"This was the best I could do for you. The Tarthian's wanted blood for all of it. Instead, I had to cut deals" Fell bristled at those words. He had accepted any and all blame directed at him. He didn't try to hide his sins, but the fact some Tarthian officer wanted to kill him for it in some backdoor deal. Do these men have no honor, a court martial? A black listing? A real soldier would stand up to him and request a duel, a debate or at least a slap to the face. Instead, Robert stood as the gatekeeper forced to simper and beg in some back room trading supplies for promises instead of attack plans. This disgusted him to no end at what doing his job costed.

His thoughts drifted to the battle. The honesty the natives showed by the simple act of facing Fell and his men face to face. Attacking the front with no true attempt at deception by going to his men and requesting interviews and written documentation of what and how it happened. Looking into his battalions business pretending to care. The only casualties in the forts were Helikian, yet the Tarthian soldiers must've lied and cried to others saying how it was Tarthian lives risked during the siege of the pass. "You could've let me die standing" Fell pushed past the door and slammed it before heading back to his quarters to gather all his personal items. He wouldn't return to this damn city of vipers unless he had to. It was a shame Robert couldn't see what the Tarthians viewed the Helikians as.

Glossary

VTO- Vox transmission operator

BDOC- Battle Defense Operations Center

CO- Commanding officer

NCO- Non-Commissioned Officer

A/N

I used the new phonetic alphabet from a dakka forum from a user named bludbaff. His post seemed pretty open to others using it, but if anyone knows him and want to reach out to confirm it by all means you are more than welcome to doing that. There are some parts I'm a bit weak at specifically anything involving air support in 40k. I tried to read up on it but over all it seems like A) The guard never has air support B) Plot dependent capabilities C) I'm an idiot and just missed all the info on the wikis. The main reason why I brushed over it. Same goes for the siege itself as I'm a Strategic Securities Major with a military concentration at the moment and our professor focuses on modern warfare and the movement side as opposed to the fortification and such.

For those returning readers and new, I plan on changing the direction of the fic. I originally wanted Raken and Robert to be the main characters with a heavy focus on returning to Helikia. Austan and I originally spent a lot of time coming up with these grand crossovers and meta plot, but my reduced time to plan with Austan123, work, college and the boogaloo kicking off. I intend to go against what I was doing with just the Moonsun family tree (Future reader the Munzn Family) but instead focus on simply the Helikian perspective as a whole. I'm of course open to feedback, but I wanted to give you all a heads up for the next chapter that will drop in the next month or so.

I'm also once again trying out a new FF format. I know many readers are familiar with the acronyms and such but in the event one day someone doesn't know I plan on placing it within the chapter just for the sake of saving people time googling it.