Characters
Helikian Guardsmen
Colonel Moonsun, Robert (36) - Regiment Commander of The 5th Tarthian Regiment "Pathfinders"
1st Lieutenant Fell, Yzir (42) - Company Commander of Ferrus Company, 1st Battalion 3rd Tarthian Regiment "Volunteers"
Platoon Sergeant Zhell, Darius (37)- Platoon Sergeant of Astra Company, 1st Battalion, 5th Tarthian Regiment "Pathfinders"
Supply Sergeant Sage, Dak (32) - Supply Sergeant of Headquarters Element of The 5th Tarthian Regiment "Pathfinders"
Corporal Aster, Jag (26)- Guidon bearer of 1st Battalion, 3rd Tarthian Regiment "Volunteers"
Trooper Münsz, Weber(25) - Trooper serving in the 5th Tarthian Regiment "Pathfinders
Imperial Navy
Admiral Alexander "Fleet Master"- Admiral of all ships under the Tarth banner
Captain David- Wing Commander of the Iron Drake Chapter
Tarthian Guardsmen
General Sosa, Sakaar (67)- Commanding General of the Tarth Imperial Guard Regiments
Colonel Hilko, Dak (38)- Regiment Commander of the 3rd Tarthian Regiment "Volunteers"
Junior Commissar Yarrick (19)- Commissar assigned to 3rd Tarthian Regiment
Iron Drakes
The Chapter Master (?) - Unnamed Chapter Master of the Iron Drakes frequently referred to as "The Drake" or "The Great Drake"
Order of Battle for "The Battle of Betram"
First Wave
Helikian 1st Line Infantry Regiment "Fighting First"
Helikian 2nd Line Infantry Regiment, 3rd Battalion "Phantoms"
Mixed 3rd Line Infantry Regiment "Volunteers"
Tarthian 9th Armored Regiment "Wyverns"
Rivian 11th Artillery Regiment "Rolling Thunder"
2nd Wave
Helikian 2nd Line Infantry Regiment 1st and 2nd Battalion "Phantoms"
Mixed 4th Line Infantry Regiment "Hunters"
Tarthian 12th Mechanized Infantry Regiment "Rough Riders"
Tarthian 15th Artillery Regiment "Steel Rain"
Tactical Reserves
Helikian 5th Light Infantry Regiment "Pathfinders"
Helikian 7th Line Infantry Regiment "Xule Bane"
Tarth was not always ruled by the houses we know today.
In fact, many opportunistic nobles came to Tarth to stake their claim.
The hope is to become a steward of a planet. Fortunately for Tarth,
more than one party had made the decision to protect Tarth from outside influences.
-The Historian
41.007
Second Terran Month of the 16th Terran day
Capital of Tarth
0854
Saying the Tarth guard was a unique organization would be true but, it would also be misleading. The Codex Exercitus traditionally demanded a standing PDF unit with the immediate ability to press 1 out of 10 men in times of crisis. A Chapter Master could call upon these men at any time request a planet to give these tithes of manpower, however. The Great Drake ruled the planet. He would never argue against himself for such a draw of men unless he became insane. His governor seal came with the weight of the High Lords of Terra. The backing of first founding chapters. The fierce space wolves and Salamanders and those in the most secret circles even heard of an Astarte in pure grey armor guide them in the creation of the chapter.
As loathe as the inquisition was to admit it, the blatant disregard for the Iron Drakes leading Imperial Guard regiments was very much legal and quite dangerous to start poking holes in a narrative that had the backing of Holy Terra itself. The Iron Drakes were creating stability in the local cluster in the Eastern Fringe. To others like Jerrit, the Iron Drakes were carving out an empire like the Astral Claws once did in ages long past. His mission was simple albeit complex the farther one looked from the leaf to examine the orchard. Hence why he was one of a few interested parties that had banded together to investigate the source of this irregularity.
"Welcome to Tarth Lord! The council is ready to meet you, Lord?"
"Oh quit that my friends call me Teal!" The guard was brought into a hug much to his discomfort. At the same time, his long exposure to Lady Amber made him realize the elites of society were no longer human rather eccentric and quite insane living socialites better dealt with a weak pat on the back rather than questioning authority.
Jerrit or rather Lord Teal swept into the office with a well-manicured smile chiseled into his face as in a few strides he took a knee and kissed her hand in a suave confident manner before she could dignify her greeting. The guard awkwardly announced his Lordship, Teal, to the room. The Tarthians looked confused at such a display but none commented unsure if this was a local custom the young lord grew up with or if he had a bolt missing from his mind.
"Oh my? I have forgotten what it was like to deal with a man with proper manners." While most women would give a sultry smile at the sight of such a distinguished bachelor, Amber's eyes sharpened like spears digging into the souls of each member present with General Sosa coughing into the crook of his arm in amusement. "Lord Teal what a unique name. I don't believe I have heard of you and your family."
"I would be surprised if you knew of my family for we are just gentle saplings compared to your prestigious house General Sosa. As for my name, I hope it will not sour our relationship. My mother once told me Amber goes well with Teal when picking one's dress." A coy smile fell onto Lord Teal's face. Amber's smile hid her own less than the impressed opinion of the new noble in town. His act stunk of manipulative plots and half-truths that much was obvious to all in attendance after all many of them had the same hopes as the young Lord Teal.
The Helikian party in attendance looked on in judgemental silence marking down another odd tradition that wasn't Helikian. The Rivians looked at the young lord with some recognition lending the odd greeting some credit. The meeting continued as if nothing special occurred. Only a small note found its way into Amber's dress with only questions and promises.
The liberation of Belbora was a true test of Tarth's higher command.
They were to be the main force to liberate the planet taking both
offensive and defensive roles and in some cases taking control
of not only military matters but also civilians.
-The Historian
41.016
Second Terran Month of the 16th Terran day
Capital of Tarth
D+0 of Operation Cutlass
0700
"Alright warriors, our objective is a planet named Betram. The capital city is phase one of our operations and our only phase so far." General Sosa had placed relevant information on the cogitator displaying all manners of information, but only a few stat lines popped out to Fell. 12% population and trade hub. All the information he needed to see the truth of the matter. This would be a defensive battle. If they couldn't at least protect the capital then the world was a worthless rock to protect. The cogitator only pointed to a world that would be useless for decades if the seat of the planet was to be destroyed by the Orks.
"I know we planned for 1st,2nd,3rd, and 5th Regiment would be the first down. The local PDF General states otherwise. They have no force multipliers outside a handful of their local air assets, and those are in short supply with the PDF stretched thin just protecting what little they can. We are deploying 11th Artillery instead of 5th Regiment. Air support will not be available as we have pockets of PDF resistance sitting on strategically significant objectives-" the officers groaned and a few even threw their berets on the ground. The Tarthian Guard was so accustomed to aerial superiority and presence that the idea was abhorrent they would go into battle without these vital assets. General Sosa simply badgered on after holding up his hands in a placating manner to end the quiet mutterings of the men.
"-that hold a higher priority than the capital. Fortunately, The Great Drake has authorized over 3 dozen Astartes to help us achieve our objectives which is also why the 2nd Regiment 3rd battalion will be deploying at a smaller capacity. The rest of the men will come in the second wave."
"Wait? Why do we need to fight then?" A general murmur of agreement sounded. Every officer present had seen what a single Iron Drake could do simply in their trials to become a neophyte. The transhuman warriors that came after were simply a regiment on their own. Why waste valuable lives for an objective when over 3 dozen Astartes already intended to destroy the green horde.
"You see that red blob? We have reason to believe that's at least 50,000 green skins if not more. We have no idea if they have any supporting formations nearby. If they do, we have the honor of finding them and pointing the nearest Astarte in that general direction. Gentlemen our forces combined we have a 1 to 1 battle with these Orcs. This should be an easy battle as long as the PDF stands fast. I highly recommend making sure they stay put. We deploy within the hour the Emperor protects" General Sosa shut out any chance to speak out of their fears or opinions.
For months the Guard would fight on Belbora.
Curiously, the guard due to a mistranslation or confusion
referred to the planet after the Governer Betram.
To this day, the conflict remains named after the Planetary Governor.
-The Historian
41.016
Second Terran Month of the 16th Terran day
Capital of Tarth
D+0 of Operation Cutlass
0715
Meanwhile, Ferrus company toed the line waiting for inspection. Three blocks of men stood ready. First platoon held the senior men one could easily tell as all their gear was in tatters replaced with gear bought from local armorers or specialty gear handed out in low numbers to the veterans. Third platoon stuck out as none of their men stood at parade rest instead of running between every rank redistributing barrels, belts of ammo, large canisters of water and cleaning oils.
The shipmaster initially refused to hand out anything larger than a lasgun out of fear of a potential guard rebellion. General Sosa's intervention only allowed those needed heavy weapons to be given back out to their designated crews a moment too late as they scrambled to reach mission readiness before they stepped off. A task Commissar Yarrick was more than happy to help accomplish in this short period.
"Roll them out lads!" the sergeant gave a neat salute before standing at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back, his gear rolled out. His lasgun sat on his chest using the new rifle slings that were so popular. His rucksack was neatly placed with every item that was once inside neatly lined up so Junior Commissar Yarrick could check all required items were in order.
Most would view this as a status symbol that a commissar was now respected and trusted well enough to inspect the gear of his charges without taking the liberty himself. Yarrick, on the other hand, knew well enough that this was done so Lieutenant Fell could go do whatever he did before the battle. All Yarrick knew was Fell would always arrive disheveled and with a manilla folder with their orders. The Tarth guard didn't trust the Commissars into their mission briefs besides only a small enclave of Commissars well known for being in the guard's pocket as many were former retirees that were friends with General Sosa.
Yarrick walked down the lines yelling out mission essential items like bayonets, fragmentation grenades and such. The men would hold up the item in question before stuffing them in their bags until only the luxury goods were left. Other NCOs walked down the ranks ensuring no one got any ideas to hide said items as they stuffed in mission essential items. The true inspection was to ensure none of these luxury items would cause issues in the field.
Books, nonstandard underwear and waterproof clothing were of the more common items and were blessed to allow them on the mission. There was little to no reason allowing these guardsmen to freeze in the rain because the item was a dull grey instead of a guardsman green. Yarrick passed his tests well enough in the schola, and he would be damned if he was like the little toy soldiers drill abbot Yarlls tried to create.
Fortunately, the men in Ferrus company didn't look the gifted grox in the mouth and did their best to stay within the unspoken lines Yarrick had drawn. A lenient commissar was a rare treasure to be protected and after their time with Commissar Vance. None seemed willing to be decimated for another small infraction.
"Commissar Yarrick are the men ready" Commissar Yarrick all this time had reached his final charge to see one of the new troopers refusing to meet his eyes. His luxury goods were just two plain bottles labeled hygiene. Uncapping one bottle the smell of amasec floated to the heavens so strongly Yarrick would be shocked the Emperor couldn't smell it. "All is in order Commander Fell" the youth breathed a sigh of relief as Yarrick strode off.
Fell had found his company ready to roll after seconds of repacking. Three neat orderly blocks greeted him with their officers standing at the forefront. Commissar Yarrick found his way behind him doing his best to look imposing, but his bolt pistol had yet to bark and remind his men Yarrick wasn't an officer but a worse thing altogether. "Auspex arrays say there is minimal aerial resistance. Colonel Hilko has authorized guardsmen to utilize troop loaders on the first wave. This means the 11th Artillery will be down there with us in full strength. This also means 5th Rangers will be on tactical reserve and our right flank won't be held by friendly forces. Any questions? None good, mount up and prepare to drop"
The men immediately gathered their gear and splintered off finding their friends to ride next to for the drop. The lander's pilots were already within their lander making the final prep before the flight down. Commissar Yarrick remained next to Fell to report of the day's contraband and such which Fell always waved away before assigning Yarrick to 3rd Platoon. The only platoon to respect the weak spined commissar.
The loading and the first leg of the trip were uneventful as they broke the atmosphere and the men attempted to sleep on the hour-long flight down. The ride was choppy enough no doubt due to the pilots being new to utilizing the new Tarthian pattern landers. Fell overheard them call the landers more a boxed coffin than a ship. That was fair as it was a flying rectangle meant to fit a company's worth of equipment and men or 3 tracked vehicles. The seats were nothing more than metal shelving meant for the artillery rounds with padding hastily placed in by the crew for human usage. The harnesses worked well enough primarily meant to fit in munition boxes then men so a few of the guardsmen were forced to strap in side by side using the same belt. It was always clear the landers were next to useless in a combat drop, but they were authorized with the expectation that few if any anti-aerial assets were able to be used against them.
"9 minutes!" the bay's intercom crackled to life snapping those lucky few asleep awake and those awake out of their thoughts.
9 minutes? What was the point of- the transport lurched heavily on one side. Before Fell could complain he felt the concussive force of flak hitting close.
"What the hell was that!" Fell demanded his hands shaking as the thought of dying on this trash heap before they even reached the ground.
"Air's choppier than Tarth!" Fell blankly looked at Aster across from him that clung to the company banner as if it would provide divine protection. Another lurch and Fell felt like he was free-falling before he felt like he slammed to the ground.
"8 minutes!" Before Fell could yell out explicities the transport shook and threw men and their precious cargo a million ways. When the disturbance had stopped, and everyone's meal laid on the deck did the flight from the warp end. Landing in a warzone against Orks did nothing for the men to rouse themselves immediately instead each man seemed to take a few moments to just sit there dumbfounded that they survived the whole ordeal before they extracted themselves from their seat.
"Move! Move! Move!" The loadmaster managed to stumble out the command deck and to the large bay doors. His hand pointed out into the local fortifications but his eyes were shut closed suppressing a shiver at seeing the mess the guard had made over his deck.
The men tumbled out but not before making a few insulting gestures to the loadmaster. Fell took his place placed mirroring the loadmaster grabbing a guardsman or two on their way out yelling over the sounds of the idling engines. He directed his 3 heavy bolter crews to take up the right flank where the ground lay higher but the fortifications in ruin. The stubber crews to evenly disperse amongst the ranks chuckling as the younger riflemen all but crawled out with their assault packs and the prepackaged ammo crates hefted between the odd pairs as they desperately tried to keep up with their fire teams.
Fell made a quick walkthrough in the company's dropship before heading out to join his men. "Last man out!" Fell made a wide circling hand gesture to catch the load master's eye as he walked out. Fell didn't spare a glance at the dropship as he joined his men jumping into the trenches. Only, his foot caught onto something and Fell was face first in the questionable pile of mud. Two pairs of hands lifted him from below the armpits and a rag was thrown into his hands which he gladly used to wipe his face.
"Get a load of this Vyx! The fifth one already! Ha, these boys are as green as they come!" Fell's judgemental eyes looked at his two helpers to see boys no older than 16 with teeth much too large for their face shine brightly compared to the mud clinging to all parts of their bodies. Their military issued uniforms were… Fell's quick eyes scanned and saw that they were uniforms only in color. Where one used buttons the other had a zipper. A patch displaying some emblem long ago covered in mud that the bits without caked-on mud were much too brown to determine what color it was originally.
"Boy shut your trap before my boot finds its way into it" a spark of surprise flashed across his face before a skull cap found his way into the mud. The obstacle now very visible as a broken weapons container barely sticking out of the mud with the center of its lid hidden from the top of the trench if one wasn't paying attention to where they were landing.
"Oi look wha-" Fell's hand went to cover up the offending soldier's mouth.
"Commissar Vance" the specter of death gracefully looked up face covered in grime and the light of anger blazed in his eyes.
"Lieutenant Fell help me out of this blasted mud" with the help of the two PDF soldiers the commissars were brushed off and given back his dignity with a few kind words and worried looks exchanged between the fighting men of a possible execution to save face.
Fell quickly interrogated the Commissar for information he may not be aware of while Commissar Vance questioned Fell about where the company trouble makers were. Fell of course covered for those he liked and gave out more than enough information on those he disliked usually the Rivians. They were decent soldiers, but he didn't like how they held themselves since they were officially a part of those under the Iron Drake banner. Off the commissar went and out went the breath Fell was holding before he took stock of the strategic picture of what was going on.
The situation was typical of the Tarthian strategy. They were to hold and take the first attack in an entrenched area before beginning their offensive. It worked against the Eldar, it worked against the tribals and it would work here. All along his defensive line, men dug deep and created frag holes, laid wire and filled the sandbags as best they could, preparing to face the green tide. As a company commander, Fell directed his men what tasks took priority and conscripted the Vyx and Ritt to help guide him around and meet the PDF locals and get a measure of the situation.
He was less than impressed as he examined their lasgun. Helikians called them the local pattern, PDF pattern or quite simply slag patterned. Many PDF regiments received grandfathered lasguns that had been in service longer than human life had been on that planet or were dozens of different patterns without one uniformed type to spread across its ranks. The guard had plenty of experience with this as they dealt with integrating the new Iron Drake vassals into their units. Another issue with PDF lasguns was the possibility of lesser quality resources being used.
The craftsmanship was safe to say industrial as it should be, but Fell seemed to find each lasgun had a unique issue on their outer casing from the manufacturing process itself. All of this would be forgivable until he saw the discipline of the garrison. While his men toiled many PDF fighting men simply pointed, laughed and jeered. The worst offenders were those who asked if the guardsmen needed a break doing their hardest to distract his men from his orders.
As a humble field officer, his orders came through the vox. The battalion commander regurgitated the same mission stated all day. Dig in, take the punch and then they would push back. Of course, the officers used colorful words as most of them were of Tarthian or Rivian origin. Fell did just that still waiting for the orders until he heard it. A mighty war cry rang across the world. Then the ground trembled in fear of the Ork horde emerging from their caves to play.
Seconds later high explosive rounds impacted the horde. Great spewing chunks of meat flew, Orks found themselves unable to move as their bodies began to shut down or their legs missing. Blocks of green would change in a flash only leaving a crater where they once stood. The locals raised their fists in an odd warcry. The artillery revitalizing the beleaguered defenders. Fell as an officer tried to appreciate the Imperial guns, but his mind ran through the strategies and tactics taught to the officers and his own experience against the Xule.
The basilisk while fearsome couldn't harm Ork's advance. The heavy guns would destroy masses of them, but the battle wasn't completely centered around the guns. Their only job was to prevent the massing of orcs. The imperial doctrine stated it took 4 guardsmen to kill a single Ork in close quarters. Helikia placed those odds 8 to 1. Artillery would help blunt the charging potential of the Orks by causing great gashes upon their charge and increase the spacing of the Orks by the obstacles known as dead bodies and shrapnel.
Mortar fire rang out. The sweet-sounding thumps sailed overhead at such a speed that the firing sounded more like a single loud blast than the dozens of individual blasts it truly was. They fired at a sustained rate meaning to continue to thin the horde but more importantly break whatever local cohesion the Orks had as the guardsmen made ready.
Tanks fired directly upon those Orks seen as targets of opportunity. Orks designated as nobs or mobs of Orks moving together were priority targets. The goal was to further sway the odds in the infantry men's favor as he would hopefully not have to fight anything larger than a standard Ork.
It was here the battle would be decided. Artillery was the king of battle, but artillery required time to win the battle as it chewed and spat out its deadly munitions. It was up to the queen of battle to hold the line and provide the king of battle the move necessary to break the spine of the battle.
Heavy bolters fired next. The men repeating the phrase "die Xeno die!" To then pause to prevent barrels from overheating. The bolter crews had ranged their target reference points earlier. Normally with Orks, one needed to close their eyes and fire, but the artillery batteries and mortar crews had done their job too well as bolter crews were forced to fire at one or two Orks rather than clumps. Stubbers joined the bolters in the same manner but most purposely fired after heavy bolters so the pause the bolter crews took was carefully hidden behind stubber fire and vice versa, so the guardsmen insured the volume of fire remained consistent.
It was at 300 meters the lasguns fired. The las fire looked like a sun for the first volleys before the order of weapons-free came in. For a moment the green tide was halted, the bodies fell by their hundred as the guard showed the Orks the deadly retribution of Tarth. Ever so slowly the Orks pushed forward until the figurative dam broke when a storm of accurate blind firing Ork rounds found themselves hitting dangerously close to troopers of like the Vyx boy dug into his skull and out the rear of his head leaving a unique display of grey matter speckled on some poor ammo runner's kit.
"TRUCKS!" Fell peaked his head out and saw three trucks driving at full speed hitting their allies as they drove to the trench line. An armored dozer blade sat in front of the engine block and the Ork itself was too durable and small a target to defeat. Fell could've sworn he saw something flying towards the truck before it blew up in a glorious display of Tarthian accuracy. "Ignore the trucks focus on the horde!" the order was relayed up and down the trench line as the men repeated the phrase.
Every man was issued a short-ranged vox by the Emperor and Fell would be damned if he let it go to waste if they've been training them all night with the women back home. Ferrus company refused to back down from their challenge sending the PDF manpower to run and grab munitions immediately the moment they landed. It was now paying dividends as those along the line ran out of ammunition had belts, power packs or explosive rounds only an arm's reach away.
Artillery continued to bombard and destroy any massing of the enemy infantry and suppress any coordinated harassing fire. The mortars were ripping through their shells as quickly as possible. Down the gun line a new issue arose, mortar tubes were becoming too hot. Mortar section 3B slammed a round down the tube to only have the round explode before leaving the tube leaving a crater where once there were four men. Immediately, the mortar section was told to cease loading. The basilisks, on the other hand, found all their readily available rounds were flung into the ranks of the Orks and the gun teams were forced to run to unloaded supplies, neatly stacked away from the artillery pieces to prevent a chain reaction, to bring to the forefront making their rate of fire only a fraction of what it once was. The only ones barely able to maintain the same firing rate were the tanks out of the principle that they were to fire upon targets of opportunity only to find themselves forced to fire at an accelerated rate as they tried desperately to cover for the sudden drop in fire support.
The Orks no longer under the threat of high explosive rounds pummeling their ranks were finally able to mass. The Orks with rifles were able to finally peak their heads out and fire with what would pass for marksmanship for the green tide. The infantrymen felt the breaking of their lines for what felt like hours as the Orks slowly achieved fire superiority and their charges coming closer and closer marching down no man's land on the backs of their dead.
Unfortunately, most of the line didn't have that foresight to see the potential Ork charge would choke the guns out of the volume of their numbers. The line began to break as the bulk of troopers ran out of ammunition or not enough runners were being sent to gather ammo and the cyclic rate of fire soon petered out into only a few rifles firing per company. Then the thumps of the mortars were silenced. Fell could barely make out the 1st Regiment's colors being sped to the frontline to rally the men only to watch the colors waver for a moment and disappear as a truck drove itself into the center of their defensive line.
"TRUCK!" the men continued to fire into the green tide confident on the ability of the tanking crew to take on the truck only to find it coming closer and closer. Confusion turned to disbelief as the truck drove past the trench and behind the men after running those unfortunate enough to be standing a quick beheading. The truck disappeared until a loud boom was felt and heard, and the men threw themselves into the trench line to only see green feet there amongst them in the mud.
The trench quickly turned into a pool of red as guardsmen desperately brought their arms to bear and fight the vicious beasts. It was the local troopers who put up their fierce fighting that kept the men alive and the Orks from overrunning the position. It would also be the locals left behind as Fell sounded the retreat. His men already terrified of the green-skinned killers left everything behind but their rifles and stubbers. The bolters were too heavy to carry and rucksacks seen as a necessary sacrifice as they ran from the green tide and the curses of the local troopers. Every guardsman knew any vehicle was the bane of the infantry and to attempt to fight them was a fool's errand. It would be a hard lesson for the locals to learn if they survived the bloodletting.
General Sosa had planned for such a thing to happen. It was a possibility to consider no matter how strong your forces were when one lets their foe seize the initiative. The rallying point was the tanks. Only a few hundred meters away, but with no cover only the threadbare command tents and stacks of wooden crates. The tanks were somewhat situated on higher ground only a dozen meters or so with an incline barely noticeable as far as the men were concerned.
Training done thousands of times before was the only saving grace for Ferrus company. The men moved as one with unit cohesion that seemed unaffected by the breaking of the line. Ferrus company leapfrogged back with one platoon setting in place firing at any Orks ambitious to give chase before getting up and leaving when the next platoon had set up their firing positions. The men reloaded as they ran and in some cases threw frags behind them running with the fear of the emperor. Somehow in good order, a majority of them had made it back those who fell were left behind with little thought if the Orks were too close. Thankfully, acts of courage still existed as men would stay behind to secure their fallen friends and try and bring them to friendly lines.
The battle was on the cusp of defeat despite what the Imperium would later write in their books. The Tarthian guard on the right flank was in full rout with no Astarte presence to support them when the line collapsed. Unknown to the 3rd Regiment, 2nd Regiment and the Iron Drakes were single-handedly holding the center without any help. The withdrawal of the 3rd Regiment and the decimation of the 1st Regiment left the center of the formation at risk of being surrounded. General Sosa's strategy relied on the artillery killing the masses, the tanks destroying any meaningful resistance and the infantry to hold the line with the Iron Drakes acting as the paste that would hold the line together. At the rate, the battle was going. The infantry would die in their gutted trenches and the tanks were going to be silenced with only the occasional boom of artillery warding off a few charging lines of enemy orcs whilst the Iron Drake would be slowly surrounded and crushed under the virtue of dead bodies slowly suffocating them to death.
The PDF was forced to slowly withdrew into the fields and campsite behind them step by step as if they ran they would be cut down, but if they held their ground. They had a chance to at least take an Ork with them. Their commanders urged their men to lay down their lives to ensure the Imperial lines weren't broken down further as the 2nd and 3rd Regiments found themselves alone under heavy assault. If it wasn't for the sacrifice of the PDF, the two regiments would be easily surrounded and destroyed.
For the next hour, Ferrus Company found itself surrounding a gutted Leman Russ. Men laying on the ground would desperately fire their lasguns as they used their shovels or helmets to dig into the dirt to create a depression deep enough to hide from the wall of lead being slung over their heads or rather into their skulls as Fell watched another trooper die. There was no guilt or regret on the simple mechanical movement of shoving the dead man out of his hiding hole to take his place a small measure safer.
The men rallied around the downed tank as it provided cover for many men, and it still had a working battle cannon that could move if given enough time. Ferrus and Gladius company found one another here and remained upon learning via vox. The gun line of basilisks behind them was undefended and if they were to take a single step back, it would be the final step to the encirclement of the guard. They were forced to press on amidst the flames of war.
A few gun runs were rerouted in an attempt halt the potential collapse of the battle lines only to find themselves ineffective at best as the green masses seemed to take the holy munitions in stride with more than one bird being shot down due to the sheer volume of their shootas getting lucky and the pilots being too cocky as they slowed down their birds to better provide air support. With what respite they could get under the over of whatever support they could scrounge together, 3rd Battalion had rallied around the fallen tank as the center turning it into a hard point with what survivors were left expanding outward from it. Commissar Yarrick found his way there after leading his ragtag band to rescue what few PDF survivors there were that fought with Gladius company. The men he led quickly disappeared into the hastily dug in defenses.
"Commissar Yarrick!" Yarrick cursed barely having enough time to take a drink of water before someone sought him out. His back straightened once he realized who it was.
"Commissar Vance" the pair saluted one another as they hastily took cover after hearing the bark of Ork weaponry long ago learning that the snap-hiss of a round was no longer a reliable sound to tell if the Orks were getting a bead on you.
"Commissar Yarrick, I require men to lead a counterattack"
"A counter-attack? Commissar Vance we ar-" a particularly loud clang from a stray shot hitting the side of the leman Russ sent Yarrick scrambling to the ground along with Commissar Vance. "If we move we will die Commissar and needlessly spend our lives"
"Do I hear doubt in your voice Commissar Yarrick?" Commissar Vance casually brought his bolt pistol into sight as he brought it to bear against the green tide, but the double meaning was not wasted on Yarrick.
"Never Commissar Vance, I will personally lead the charge need be. I refuse to simply stand and die instead of lay in the mud and take some of these green skins with me" Commissar Vance nodded in understanding or contemplating how a counterattack wasn't just a fool-hearted idea.
"Commissar Yarrick, I will put this in simple terms. We stay here we will die. It is our duty to prevent morale from collapsing and if we stay here. The troopers here will lose heart and flee. I have used all my bolt rounds to create this bastion that I've built on the bodies of those who desired to flee like cowards. We will move forward to show our men this battle may still be won, or I will find more ammo for my bolt pistol to ensure we do not take one step back." Commissar Vance like many times before had made an impossible situation to a simple black and white question.
"Emperor take me! We don't have the command authorit-"
"I've relieved all company commanders of their command. I simply needed a man I could trust to carry out my instructions' ' confusion warped Yarrick's face. He wasn't Commissar Vance's confidant. The two rarely spoke to one another much less held the other to high esteem as Yarrick was too new to the Commissar corp to earn a measure of respect from the older veteran.
"What abo-"
"They're all dead except for two or three officers I could trust. We are the only commissars alive" a hail of rounds stormed above the odd pair as if to make Commissar Vance's statement untrue. Only lending credence to how urgent Commissar Vance needed Yarrick's answer.
"By the nine! What do you need from me?"
"Lieutenant Fell and Ferrus company still live. Take everything you need, I need you to reach the Iron Drakes and request they come to our aid and take the trench line. If we take the trench line we regain the initiative and I can call a general attack and smash the between the trench and our men."
"A plan as inspired as a plan made by a rat"
"A plan simple enough to teach a rat, Junior Commissar and watch your tone before you join your fellows" with that Commissar Vance gave a mighty roar as he brandished his bolt pistol and chainsword ushering men forward as he stood amongst the crawling guardsmen kicking most of them to a crouching stance or executing a few when all refused to move.
Commissar Yarrick swore as he too got up but only at a crouch and ran to the shredded flag of Ferrus company. He ran when he could, but the Ork fire seemed to hit closer and closer the farther he got from where he began. In reality, the flag of Ferrus company waved bravely maybe a rock throw away. The Ork fire made the trip into a grueling experience as he wiggled on the ground like a worm or sprinted in the opposite direction to avoid a particularly close explosion. For all of his bravery and cunning Yarrick was greeted by the fury of Ferrus company as they seemed to be the only company using the full might of the imperium to devastate Ork ranks with focused orderly fire as they rained down the deadly fire with no fear. Other scraps of companies found themselves naturally gravitating to the bastion of strength and fury creating two main hubs one led by Commissar Vance and this one to be guided by Commissar Yarrick.
"Commissar Yarrick! Sergeant Javok said you died" a look of surprise flashed on Lieutenant Fell's face before immediate suspicion came to the forefront. A fair look considering what Yarrick was about to ask- order- these men.
"It was merely an inconvenience lieutenant." Yarrick brushed over the fact Trooper Hels absorbed the brunt of the grenade and Medicae Schrupp was the one to recover him. "I need some good men."
"Well I need a good few men to hold this position for Commissar Vance" Yarrick felt rough hands grab him and guide him to the ground as Fell got down from their crouching position to hear the loud zips and snap hisses of all too close rounds. Fell only spotting the sniper in time due to the large flash that all but blinded his eyes.
"For the love of the Emperor! Aster I told you to kill that sniper an hour ago" a muffled cry sprung from a pile of dead bodies before Aster made his appearance crawling out of the pile no doubt intentionally hiding amongst them as he hunted this rogue sniper.
"I'm trying! I'm trying!' Corporal Aster ripped a Bandelier of las magazines off a nearby trooper before shooting Fell a hand motion that Fell 'politely' returned. "How hard is it to kill a sniper who doesn't use camouflage"
"It's incredibly hard when they all look the same. I swear I've killed the same Ork one hundred times!"
"Well keep shooting him until he realizes he's dead"
"Look Junior Commissar, we are pinned down the best I can do is give you a fireteam of guardsmen."
"A fire team is a good start Lieutenant Fell but I was-"
"Anything more and I'll start to lose this firefight. I'll give you Aster, Calvet, Javoksen, and Larsin. They've all spent some time as scouts. Aster! Gather those men and report to Commissar Yarrick.
Aster fired two quick shots before scurrying off. Fell continued to shout orders and organize his men in a masterful way beyond his rank. A shame the defense of Drake Pass ended with his permanent position. Aster returned quickly with only two others.
"Quick problem sir, Calvet, Javoksen and Larsin are all already dead. I did find two FNGs cowering in a hole through"
"Those are PDF troopers - forget it follow Commissar Yarrick or else his bolt pistol is the last thing you have to worry about" the two troopers nodded terrified as they saw the peaked hat and black coat of authority.
"On me gentlemen" brandishing his chainsword and seeing the cloud of blood raining on heroes of grey. Commissar Yarrick saw his objective only a few scrum ball fields away. "Follow me" with that he charged across the field ignoring the pounding in his chest yelling to find cover and hide. He had moments to find cover before his luck would eventually run out, but he needed to make sure. The field of battle lacked any meaningful cover away from the imperial bastion they had created.
It took moments to simply realize that there would be no cover and only a run to friendly lines which was a quagmire of tangled battle lines. The PDF while out of supplies and leaderless had survived out of the generosity of the Iron Drakes. When the PDF looked as if it was about to break or be overrun. A hail of bolter rounds found themselves quickly mowing down Orks by their dozens before they were forced to help the 2nd Regiment fighting off the green tide.
The PDF was reduced to mean using their rifles like spears as they aimed for the eyes and throat of the green skins and found success at the cost of a trooper or two dying before they can mortally wound or hinder and Ork. In truth, the Orks held this land, but the PDF fought hard enough to allow Yarrick to slip into their lines to make a beeline to the Astartes as the troopers with him forced those out of the way.
Exhausted and fading as the adrenaline wore off, Yarrick was lost in the battle no longer able to see the grim-faced Tarthian gods that held the lines together. A green skin appeared in front of him and one of the troopers fired wildly into the green skin to only have the Ork cleave him in half from the right shoulder to his left pectoral. The Ork went to cleave Yarrick in two only to find a chainsword chewing into his cleaver's haft and leaving only a thick stick in the Ork's hand, and its blade stuck into the ground.
The Ork raged as it began to wildly try to punch and grab Yarrick who narrowly dodged each attempt as Aster fired his lasgun into the face of the Ork and a few PDF troopers had gathered to fight this Ork. Bayonet cut into its legs first forcing the Ork to its knees before Yarrick shoved his chainsword into the Orks' neck and leaving it to bleed out. In a bloody haze, Yarrick looked for the Space Marines and only found an endless green horde and men inches from turning tail and running. "For the Emperor! For Belbora! For t-" a trooper screeched out before an Ork seemingly came out of nowhere throwing guardsmen as if they were toys. His body covered in scrap and his height much larger than the previous Orks.
"Legs!" the local troopers went to work immediately. Three charging his left to only be stopped with the brutal ax techniques of the nob. Fortunately, troopers had charged his right and managed to plant their bayonets deeply into the nob's leg and avoid his vile retribution narrowly.
"Legs!" again the troopers did the same strategy to only be found with an ax sticking from their chests. The nob quickly learned and with breathtaking speed killed those charging his left before stomping on the next line of troopers to charge him using his ax and one of the troopers as a flail to kill a pair of troopers.
"Run run o-" Commissar Yarrick ended the fearful drivel of the man. They had a chance. They killed Orks with the same strategy this will be no different. Clearing his throat and using the precious few rounds he had. Yarrick began reigning in the men. The men withdrew a few steps to better dodge the nob and react to try and stab its arms to be met with little success. More Orks came to the defense of their nob forcing the troopers to back even further away with the odds stacked even further away from them. All the while with a mix of threats, deaths and inspiring words. Yarrick held the line refusing to allow the two regiments to be separated in the conflict. The nob was a force upon the battlefield with Yarrick forced to simply send men to their deaths to simply keep the nob away from doing the most harm to his damaged battle line.
The 3rd Regiment only knew the battle was lost in all but a final withdrawal order. Until it wasn't. Even from the distance, the fury of the Iron Drakes could be seen. The tides of the battle shifted when the first wave of landers, Valkyries and drop pods came screeching in with the fury of the Imperium. They rushed to aid their friends with righteous fury. The Ork lines seemed to dissipate in the face of the two hammers. Yarrick found the nob faceless when a space marine covered in Ork giblets seemingly came from nowhere and ended the life of the nob with 4 expertly placed clips of bolter munitions and a combat knife lodged in its throat. The nob dying a forgettable death so common when one lets the heat of the battle take the higher functions of its brain.
The 3rd Regiment found a massive lizard as their savior as it broke apart the massed Ork lines and finally killing the Emperor damned sniper who spent the whole battle trying to break Fell's sanity if not spend his life. The conflict turned quickly in their favor as if the Emperor himself came to fight amongst them. The troopers surrounded the Orks on three sides pushing them out of the battlefield. Until the order to give chase was in question, the PDF being the closest to give chase and the guard simply say where they fought to recollect themselves and finding their units. The PDF could chase all they wanted with their relief forces. the 1st, 2nd and 3rd regiment was more than content to sit and enjoy the peace that came.
The third Regiment found themselves gathered around the Tank now named "The Shield of Belbora" the men roared in approval when a tech priest managed to make the engines sputter. A guarantee the tank would once again ride with the guard after a lengthy time in the repair yards. Guardsmen kissed the tank or took trophies digging out Ork rounds as luck charms for the tank that saved their lives many a time.
The fun ended abruptly when an older Leman Russ came rolling up on the regiment. "Guardsmen did you not receive the order to give chase to the green skins!?"
"You can chase them" Fell eyed the PDF officer seeing only a clean decorated uniform and a tank with no battle damage. "You might want to hurry up sir. It looks like you might miss the whole thing at the rate you're going" the men chortled as Lho sticks were being brought out and smoked with fervor as the men began their tales of survival and how they single-handedly saved the Imperium nay the galaxy. None asking the other about the wet spots or smells of the others uniform letting the mud, blood and grime rest as the only stains on their uniforms. The PDF commander eyed the men and took note of their regimental standard before rolling away.
Food and water were passed around also, but particularly bold guardsmen or rather Aster had found his way past the tech priest to steal the tank's survival kit. With a crowd gathered around him and acting like a priest he began his sermon about how far they kicked the green skins ass while he passed out packs of Lho sticks and the better K ration of the tankers.
"Lieutenant Fell?"
"Commissar Vance and Junior Commissar Yarrick." The two were bloodied and tired. The plan Commissar Vance promised never came to fruition, but they survived and Fell wasn't one to press the issue unsure if Vance would take it as an insult or as a light-hearted joke. Instead, he handed the two a canteen of water.
"Lieutenant Fell. Our mission is successful. I will be attending an officer's meeting. I'll leave Commissar Yarrick here to ensure good order and discipline are maintained here. His eyes were drawn to Aster, and his hand drifted to his bolt pistol.
"Of course Commissar Vance. Troopers escort the commissar to the command tent" a huff of relief emerged from his chest as Commissar Vance allowed himself to be escorted than ensure good discipline. A Lho stick was passed to Yarrick. Fell heard Yarrick only killed PDF stranglers and the such from Aster earning him a few points in Fell's book.
"Why is Commissar Vance going to the meeting?" curiosity nudging Fell's mind.
"You're the only living company commander..." a particularly long puff ending in Yarrick attempting to cough his lung out. The lho stick being flung to the far corners of the world before Yarrick gathered himself. "Due to your social standing. He's the acting Regimental Commander since Colonel Hilko was injured in the first assault." Fell grunted at a loss for words. He was never particularly close to the Tarthian officer cadre, but the idea all of them died fighting the Orks was. It was a thought that felt more of a mistake than a near and dear fact that could occur. "Well, commissar it might be best if we rest and get some chow in you before the next orders come down."
Scant hours had passed before new orders from the Iron Drakes themselves had been ordained by General Sosa. Only half of the regiment was in fighting shape, but the next day or so, they would be the strongest fighting force as the ships carried men to naval hospitals and dropped off invaluable aid in the form of food, weapons, and eventually men. Until that time came, the 3rd Regiment had their orders. They were to be the enforcers for an Iron Drake named Thorak. An Astarte for a well-known reputation for being talented in creating a base of the fire and pushing his men forward always under the protection of supporting firing lanes.
3rd Regiment is best to scrape together a formidable force, but the battle had left them with a dozen surviving rifle companies after they were merged to fill the holes. Only a regimental command structure left stitched together. Stubbers, mortars, heavy bolters, tanks, flamers, heavy artillery, and airborne assets were out of the question. They lost most of that equipment in the tactical withdrawal. This was, of course, eased when the question was placed before Thorak about supporting assets in which the blunt response was the PDF had graced the taskforce with 3 tactical wings to support this operation and their own "big guns" The 1st was forced to merge with the 3rd leaving a roster of 3,000 fighting men supported by a detachment of tanks from 9th Regiment leaving 3rd Regiment in the decisive role to act as an "elite shock unit" for the 4th PDF Division or rather simply army if one were to take into account that it was the only surviving division left on this hostile planet.
This was still better than the hand dealt with the 7 PDF Regiments. The rough estimate of 25,000 men deployed to the defensive works only 15,000 or perhaps 17,000 had survived. The Imperial Guard suffered a 37% casualty rate from the 14,541 men deployed on the ground side. While the Guard reorganized into Task Force Spear. The PDF was hastily reassembled from the ground up by the local PDF General who drove into the armories opened up to them by the Iron Drakes to re-equip them to take Point 576.
Reports were sent to the Iron Drakes with the reorganizational status. First and Second Regiment being all but destroyed regiments with 3rd Regiment receiving many of the survivors to reach combat effectiveness. Those other survivors were sent to the 9th Tank Regiment or the 11th Artillery Regiment to replace the infantrymen they lost and to guarantee that these vital supporting regiments were battle-ready for the next phase.
The roads remained sturdy enough to allow transportation for the men. The Planetary Governor had a fleet of trucks ready to carry the Task Force to the next city. The trucks lying in wait for this moment ever since they were emptied of household items, ammunition, and refugees for the capital. They were now saddled with guardsmen, rations and crew service weapons. The goal was to secure the population cluster to the north where the terrain was nothing more than an agricultural hub according to the latest maps. The scouts said it was just flat lands waiting to be absorbed into the greater collective of the nearby hive. Regardless, an imperial presence was required to prevent another battle like today from occurring. This would be an artificial obstacle to prevent the green tide from deciding when and where they attacked the capital again.
Phase two of the Iron Drake's operation was beginning. They had secured the critical supply point which doubled as a moral rising momentum to rouse the PDF to a counteroffensive. The guard's goal was to solidify and if possible connect friendly lines and contain the threats in easily defendable areas where the Imperium would reap the advantages.
The mission was clear, but the men were hanging together by a thread with many sleeping if they could, but many more awakening to the sounds of the cleavers and shootas of the Orks to only find the crestfallen looks of their fellows as they drove onto the next objective on an endless list meant for a more competent force.
A/N
Expect the next chapter to go up in a month. I've slowed down as Austan123 and I want to experiment and really showcase battles worthy for the 40K universe and with novel quality. Which means this current conflict which I hope is adequate. We do want to show these 40K conflicts at full scale while having logical tactics and such that can keep y'all in suspense and enjoy our battles. If you follow or favorite this and/or Austan's FF please submit some information on what you want to see in the conflicts and what we can work on. Otherwise, we will just wind up complementing each other and missing what you the reader would enjoy. Along with that, the FFs will diverge heavily in roughly 5 chapters for those of you who prefer a more original plot than the side by side FF they are currently.
Best,
SITH