Entry 4
Regroup and Reconnoiter
Agementa System
Planet: Cruan
Y.999 M.41
0654 Hours Local
Wilderness of Cruan
Twelve Hours After Escape…
*So…the first worst day of my life in 40K had just happened, I was stuck on a planet I had no knowledge of, with enemies possibly all around me, with no guidance. You might be asking yourself 1. How did you get out of there and 2. What did you do? Well, on old Earth, we have a saying: Don't get mad, get even.*
It took two hours of movement, but we had reached safety; amid a series of slopes and hills, we found the abandoned settlement of Baile a' Chnuic or Chunic. This had been the hiding place of the 8th Cruan Mechanized Regulars, and for the keys to their survival; six Leman Russ main battle tanks, 4 Chimera APCs, and three Hellhound light tanks, and two Devil Dog light tanks. For those who don't know, Devil Dogs are Hellhounds with a Melta Cannon strapped on instead of the standard Inferno Cannon, which makes them exceptional at burning through the armored hulls of Battlesuits. Those Devil Dogs, in conjunction with the Leman Russ tanks, had ensured the survival of the three hundred or so Regulars in Chunic.
As for the Fusiliers, of the 625 from 1st Company, 98 were among us, 42 from 2nd Company, 33 from 3rd, 75 from 4th, 14 from 5th, and 11 from 6th. Of a four thousand strong battalion, we had 275 confirmed survivors: a very, very bleak number. Of said number, there was not a single Guardsmen above the rank of corporal, which was reflected in the Regulars as well.
We spent the first night in near silence, with the Regulars quietly providing us with housing and what supplies they had to spare before leaving us. All the Fusiliers were nestled on the northeastern side of town, about a quarter mile from the Sruth River, and the mood on that side of town was somber. My team and I were clustered together in a mid-sized home built into the side of a hill, all of us barring Penny, who was missing. Though she was silent, Geo, who had been glued to Penny since joining the Fusiliers, was visibly worried. None of us said a word, still processing the day's events, and we slept the moment the sun dipped beneath the horizon.
I awoke before anyone else did, when the sun's rays were still teasing the skyline. I rose from the sleeping mat, dressed, tore a page from my notebook, and left a note saying I was going out. I walked out into the dull pre-dawn light, taking in the mist that rolled through Chunic and the Regulars that already milled about.
The Regulars of Cruan, and by extension its people, are an odd mixture of cultures that I could only assume were from the British Isles in my time during the "Viking Age" of England. The 8th Mechanized, for example, wore kilts with calf-high boots and stockings in their noncombat uniform, several of them wore basket-hilted claymores on their hips, others had the full two-handed claymores on their backs in half-scabbards, and two of these Regulars had bagpipes. The familiar equipment was an odd juxtaposition in the galaxy of the 41st Millennium, one I took comfort in.
I approached the nearest group of Regulars; a group of five around a field-heater with a pot on top. The Regular who had been atop the Leman Russ was among the group, and he spared a glance up at my approach.
"Morning to ya," he greeted.
"Morning," I mumbled back. Originally, I wasn't going to ask for whatever was in the pot, however my stomach had other plans. It growled loudly, reminding me I hadn't eaten since 1400 the previous day as the scent of the stew wafted past my nose. The Regulars all chuckled.
"It'll be ready soon; Woot here caught some hares this mornin'," the lead Regular said, "don't think we've been properly introduced yet."
"Corporal Ald Russman, 1st Freeport Fusiliers," I greeted, extending a hand.
"Corporal Bennett McDonagh, 8th Cruan Regulars, call me Benny," Benny returned, taking my hand a giving it a firm shake.
"Thanks for the rescue; I don't think we would've been able to pull away without your help," I told him.
"Ah it weren't nothing; we'd seen your ship and we figured we knew where you were headed," Benny said, waving a dismissive hand. "Though, truth be told, we were expecting more of you."
"Tell me about it; it was supposed to be a night drop too. The Tau flew in more reinforcements, so we had to go sooner than intended," I explained. "The plan would've been a shit show either way."
"Especially going up against the Huntsman," another Regular said, taking the lid off the pot and inspecting the stew.
"The who?"
"The Huntsman is the leader of this section of the Tau," Benny elaborated, "gray armored fucker with white stripes; he goes after regimental leadership and leaves the rest to flee or be cut down."
"I know him," I said, nodding, "he killed our Commissar and my sergeant."
"He gunned down our LT (lieutenant) when he was pulling me from a burning Chimera," Benny said, "everyone here has a grudge against him."
"Anyone tried going after him?" I asked, and the Regulars gave a cold laugh.
"Aye, we were damn near slaughtered for it," another Regular said. I nodded quietly, thinking.
"So where are we?" I asked.
"We're about half a day's drive from Ard Allie, and we're about two and a half from an old water treatment plant," Benny said.
"Wait wait wait, we're two and a half miles from a Tau CP?" I said incredulously.
"The treatment plant?" The Regulars asked.
"Yeah; Barr Maol, right? It's our objective; we were supposed to seize it," I explained. "How the hell have you evaded notice for so long?"
"Kept our heads down, pure and simple; yous was the first time we'd gone…anywhere," a fourth Regular shrugged.
"Doesn't look like the case now," Benny said grimly, opening the pot, "stew's ready." We ate in silence for a moment, with several other Regulars and Fusiliers coming up and taking their fill. Emerging from the crowd came my team, with Eddie heading directly for me.
"Gave us a right scare ya know," Si called as they approached, "thought you'd gone after the Tau all by yourself for a moment!"
"Not yet!" I replied, a rough smile on my face as Eddie leaned against a wall next to me.
"Hey…thanks for yesterday," he said quietly.
"For what?" I asked, knowing full well what he meant.
"For pulling me together; I would've frozen on the spot if it hadn't been for you," Eddie said sheepishly.
"You did the same for me; I say we're even," I replied, trying to brush off the thanks like it wasn't a big deal. I didn't need Eddie thinking he owed me.
"Eh, I guess," Eddie shrugged, then sniffed the air, "is that stew?"
For the next several hours, we milled about Chunic, restless and anxious, yet without any idea of what to do. Idleness…does not sit well with me; my mind runs wild with all sorts of worries and concerns. Around 1300 that afternoon, I stood, frustrated with my lack of activity.
"I'm going on a patrol to the Sruth; I'm sick of doing nothing," I declared to my teammates. All of them stood with me, "Ya'll don't have to come with," I told them *Yes, I say "Ya'll" I was raised in the American South for nearly half of my life, hush up.*
"Yeah, but what else is there to do?" Si asked, ducking out the door before me. I shook my head, smiling, and followed. The closet part of the Sruth was a half mile away and we moved toward it slowly, looking for any sign of the Tau or the traitor Gue'vesa.
Arriving at the Sruth, we could see the remnants of our battle four hours earlier; blood still tinged the waters, scrap metal and circuitry floated down the river, and bits and odds could be scavenged from the current.
"Come on, spread out and see what we can find," I said, and the team did so, wading into the shallows to scrounge. Already, we plucked power packs, stubber drums, a few grenades, and a few odds and ends.
I waded through, approaching a body that was stuck halfway up and against a fallen log. Coming up on it, I saw strands of blonde hair floating up from beneath a helmet.
"No," I breathed, gently pulling the body from under the log and turning it over. The pale, wrinkled face of Penny surfaced, a burned hole in her upper chest.
"Russ?" Came a voice behind me. It was Geo; she and Penny had been nigh inseparable since they joined the Fusiliers. I positioned myself between the body and Geo, struggling to find the words. "Russ…let me see her," Geo said, her voice low and knowing. I stepped aside, allowing Geo forward. She took the body and gently dragged her dead friend to shore. The team stopped, waded back ashore, and knelt around Geo and Penny, as I heard faint sobbing from the former.
I stood in the water for a moment, leaning forward on the log and looking down river. I thought for that moment, thinking of what I should be feeling, what I should be doing. I should be sad that one of my friends had died, sad that they were gone from the world, and I should be up there with my team. Instead, I felt anger, frustration, and the need to keep moving. After a moment's more of looking, I found the place to move; what looked like a small cave on our side of the Sruth.
"Let's get her out of the open, follow me," I said numbly. Hob bent down and gingerly picked up Penny, and we slowly moved to the cave. I went in first, turning on a flashlight, then paused. Further into the cave, which was much deeper than expected, there was an open door. Curiosity drove me forward.
"Russ?" Si called as I moved forward, fixing the flashlight to the side of my las. I poked my head through the door; to my left and center there was a wall, and to my right was a short corridor that opened into a larger room with piping.
"Isn't Barr Maol a water treatment plant?" I thought to myself and went further in. Turning into the room, I found the scene of a small battle lit by dim emergency lights, with Gue'vesa bodies strewn across the floor, alongside the electric-blue robed bodies of…Skitarii? *Skitarii: The foot soldiers of the Adeptus Mechanicus; linked to their Tech-Priest masters, the Skitarii are unrelenting warriors that execute their orders to the letter.*
"Russ, what the-oh," Si came up behind me and surveyed the room. Most of the Skitarii laid on their backs or bellies, heads cocked to the either side, with one sitting slumped against a wall, two Arc Pistols held loosely in either hand.
PING
"Emperor's teeth, what happened here?" Vic asked as I knelt in front of the slumped Skitarius. There was no movement from the body, his form didn't indicate any readiness to attack, and yet…
"Corporal Ald Russman, ID Number: FP-2540621-98," I said.
"Russ, what the fuck are you doing?" Eddie asked, standing over me. I held up a hand and stared into the sockets of the Skitarius.
"Identification…verified," the Skitarius said, abruptly rising to his feet, damn near causing me to fall backwards,
"Holy shit!" Came the near unanimous cry from Si and Vic.
"Identification, Skitarii Ranger Dende Xyphos 89-999. Greetings, Guardsmen." The Ranger greeted.
"Uh, howdy," I said, "just having a sit down there, Ranger?"
"In a manner of speaking; what brings you to this pump station?" Dende inquired. The Arc pistols had yet to leave his hands.
"We were patrolling along the Sruth," Vic cut in.
"Carrying a corpse?" The Ranger nodded to Penny's body in Hob's arms.
"She's a…was a friend," Hob said, pulling Penny's lolling head away from the Ranger.
"Apologies," Dende nodded his head, "are there Tau in the vicinity?"
"None that we've seen, no," I answered.
"Then it is safe?"
"Depends on what needs to be kept safe," I replied. Dende turned without another word and knocked thrice upon a metal panel. A moment later, the wall opened to reveal a further section of the pump station, a second Skitarii Ranger, and…
Her.
Now, Mechanicus Tech Priests and Adepts are notorious for covering and grafting themselves head-to-toe in mechadendrites, cybernetics, and augmentations, to the point where they were unrecognizable in face and gender. 99.99 times out of 100, they're Frankenstein horrors that ensure humanity's machinery keeps thrumming on.
And yet, with what little luck I possessed, I had to find the one, singular Tech-Adept that was still mostly human, and was an absolute bombshell. *And yes, the author has a thing for impossible relationships, this will be a recurring theme as you read, fuck off.*
The Adept had shoulder length dirty blonde hair, a surprisingly gentle face for her craft, a wide mouth, and blue eyes so bright they matched her robes. And as she spoke, I had another box checked off, as I thought, "Holy fuck she's French." *I am remarkably aware that I am outing my kinks, but fuck you this my journal, I can put what I want!*
"Ranger, who are these?" The Adept asked, her voice thickly accented, but light.
"Adept, these are allied Guardsmen; they have declared the area safe," Ranger Dende answered crisply.
"Relatively safe, ma'am," I stated, her gaze turning firmly towards me. Her eyes were ice.
"The Omnissiah does not deal in relativity, Guardsman, explain," she demanded.
"Adept, these are our rescuers, perhaps a modicum of mutual respect is in order," the second Ranger suggested gently. Her eyes flicked to the second Ranger, then took a deep breath.
"Apologies, I am Adept Xypha Surella of the Forge World Molotok. This is Ranger Jovox Xyphos 90-000, and you have met Ranger Dende," she indicated the second Ranger, who nodded, handing Dende a Galvanic rifle, who in-turn handed an Arc pistol back to Jovox.
"Corporal Ald Russman, 4th Battalion of the 1st Freeport Fusiliers," I replied, "these are Privates Eddie Price, Silas Johnston, Lucas Hobbles, Irvin Lutes, Geo Bowles, and…" I trailed off at Penny.
"I apologize for your loss," Xypha said, her voice to the point but not unsympathetic, "explain your 'relative' safety."
"Ma'am, we define relative safety as not being in contact with the Tau," I explained, "we're presently cut off deep in enemy territory, however it appears that we have some semblance of safe harbor in a nearby settlement." The three servants of the Omnissiah turned to each other and seemingly communicated before turning back to us.
"A semblance of safety is safety enough for our purposes," Xypha said, turning back into the room.
"May I ask what that is, Adept?" I inquired.
"This." She pulled a metal trapezoid box, about the size of a school backpack, from the room, an antenna attached to the back. "This is a piece of communications archeotech, hailing from the times of early man. I have been assigned to safeguard it."
"Its safety is our only concern, all others are secondary at best," Jovox stated firmly.
"Well it's good to know the Mechanicus still prefers their toasters over us," I heard Eddie whisper behind me.
"If you were escorting a VIP or valuable intelligence, your outlook would be the same," Ranger Dende retorted, silencing the now shamed Eddie.
"Regardless, as much as I trust my Skitarii, more lasguns around my archeotech mean more protection. I'm sure your superiors would agree," Xypha said.
"What superiors?" Hob commented, having set Penny down and was kneeling next to her.
"The Tau have an officer called the Huntsman; he targets leadership from the rank of sergeant up and leaves units beheaded," I explained.
"No one commands you?" Jovox asked in shock.
"Radio silence," Vic answered, "we don't want some trigger-happy Tau homing in on us."
"In the vein of the Tau," I began, "where do these pipes lead?" I pointed to the right.
"They lead to a location called Barr Maol; an abandoned water treatment plant, why?" Xypha asked.
"Russ, you're not-" Geo began.
"I just wanna look," I interrupted, "how far?"
"Two kilometers; there are catwalks that will lead you there," Dende answered. I looked down the piping for a long moment.
"Ya'll the get adept back to Chunic…I'm gonna have myself a looksie at this water treatment plant," I said. I turned without another word and made for the catwalks. The tunnels were dark; with nothing in the way of lights on, which forced me to turn my flashlight on. As I began down into the darkness, I heard footsteps behind me.
"You ain't goin' alone, no chance in hell," came the voice of Si. He, Eddie, and Vic came alongside me as Hob took Penny's body, Geo, the Skitarii, and Xypha out of the pump station.
"You may be the big fucking corporal, but that doesn't mean you get to make the dumbass decisions alone," Vic said, the former salesman coming alongside me, "besides, you need people who know what to look for."
"And you know what to look for?" I asked.
"A conman, a ganger, and a salesman? Please, we know where to find an easy mark; an amnesiac, not so much," Vic retorted.
"Fuck you," I replied, smiling, and led the way forward.
The trip down the pipeline took what felt like an hour; walking through the darkness, through twists and turns in the pipeline, uncertain if the Tau had already trapped the area. By the team we reached the end of the piping, we were all sick of the suffocating darkness. Said end of the piping ended in a ladder that seemed to go a long way up. As I went to climb, Si cut me off.
"Me first; you lot will take too long."
"What makes you say that?" I asked.
"Which one of us is the ex-underganger?" Si retorted and began the ascent. True to his word, he seemed to fly up the hundred-foot ladder. He rested at the top, kneeling against a wall as the rest of us clambered to the top. Exiting the small room we found ourselves in, we stepped out into a darkened room.
"No lights," I hissed, shutting my flashlight off. We switched on our night vision, observing the old pump room we found ourselves. It was empty, save for the old machinery that had once kept this place running and relevant, so we moved on. We made our way to a staircase, trying to quietly ascend the metal stairs as we made our way up, then found our way out.
I shut down my night vision and gazed out of the doorway to the outside world, my eyes roving over the Tau command center. Intel was a week old, my fucking ass.
This was a command post that was well and truly established; permacrete walls rose on the edges of the plateau, ringed with stubbers, bolters, pulse weaponry, anti-air and anti-armor weapons, and Gue'vesa guards. Much of the old plant had been torn down and converted to Tau buildings, with new barracks and hangars rising from the ruins. On the eastern side to our left, we could see a gateway leading down to another section of the base.
"Emperor's bones, was the intel they received sent after a week or did they do this in a week?" Eddie gasped.
"Dunno, but if we want to look around more, there's our ticket," Vic jabbed a finder downwards at a hovercart guided by two traitors. Inside was a smattering of traitor armor, headed for an old warehouse.
"Disguises, here?" Eddie said skeptically.
"The key to walking around in enemy turf in broad daylight is to act like you own the damn place," Si said. I didn't need to question how he knew that.
"Eddie, you keep watch up here, let us know if we're being tailed, Si, you're up front, Vic with me," I ordered, and we moved. Si, Vic, and Eddie descended via another nearby staircase as Eddie kept watch from above. The two traitors guided the cart into the warehouse and we followed, moving quickly across the small courtyard. The door ascended, allowing the cart, traitors, and us entry.
Inside were rows and stacks of crates and containers, all marked in the Tau language and low Gothic. In many were weapons, armor, and other assorted tools of war, many of which appeared to belong to fallen Guardsmen. There was, however, an assortment of Gue'vesa armor; our way to exploring the base. We hid behind a stack of crates as the two traitors offloaded their cargo, Si drawing his bayonet in preparation.
"No," I whispered, "we don't need two missing traitors drawing suspicion." Si frowned but sheathed the long knife and waited impatiently.
"Did you hear about the fighting along the Sruth?" One of the pair asked.
"I heard we lost four Devilfish on the Sruth," the other said.
"Damn right; we lost two whole companies and a battlesuit too," the first stated angrily, parking the hover cart. "How in the hell di we lose so much to a bunch of brain-washed amateurs?"
"Russ," Si hissed angrily, and I put a hand on his arm to stay him.
"Dunno; guess we overestimated them," the second suggested, "what about that tank they brought?"
"What tank?"
"Dunno; heard there was a tank."
"Where would they get a tank from?"
"Dunno."
"What do you know, Fred?"
"Dunno."
"Fuck off." They left the cart chuckling, closing the door behind them. The moment it touched the ground, we emerged and went to the crate
"Amateurs, fuck off," Si spat, "amateurs don't jump into a warzone at 500 feet." We continued in silence, searching through the various crates and containers for armor pieces that fit us and weren't terribly damaged. The Gue'vesa armor was surprisingly modular, allowing us to kit-bash a semi-decent set that would pass initial inspection. We hid our gear amongst the looted Imperial gear, taking traitor armaments instead, and proceeded out into the Tau CP.