Counterattack, Part 1

The Vendoland 4th Company pulled back to the 1st Battalion headquarters. As the Orks pursued them, they encountered layer after layer of defenses designed to slow the xenos down. For the moment, the 4th Company had been pulled off the line, and Captain Uther was overseeing the removal of his wounded before the company returned to their positions. He directed another wave of ambulances to their triage station. The medics were working quickly, sorting through who could be saved and whom were already too far gone.

The company had been hit hard by the first attack. Of the two hundred men in the company, some forty casualties had been accounted, and over a dozen had been outright killed. Lars tried to reassure himself that he'd made the right call by pulling out. It was either lose a handful of his men, or all of them. But still, he thought about each man who'd fallen. As Captain, he'd made it a point to connect with his troops as best he could. Even with the recent reorganization, Uther had taken time to meet with the replacements that had been shuffled into 4th Company.

Lieutenant Hunder approached the captain. "Well, Jorin? Any sign of them yet?" asked Captain Uther. The grenadier lieutenant looked terrible. His face was covered in blood, and fragments from a fresh explosion had flecked his left cheekbone. "That looks bad, are you alright?"

"No sign yet sir," said Jorin. He wiped his face down, leaving streaks of blood over his uniform. "Trench Skippers reported in about ten minutes ago, but I've had no luck finding Kippler or the rest of the grenadiers. The squad's vox channel has been dead quiet, but they were seconded to other squads for the attack. They might have come in with some of the others. I'll keep searching, sir."

Lars grabbed Jorin before he could leave. "All right, you keep looking for them," Uther said, "but first, I want you to get that looked at. I need you healthy, Jorin. If it's serious, get it fixed, understood?"

"Yes sir," said Hunder hesitantly. The man was jittering and swaying in place. Having one of the medics look him over might help calm him down. The lieutenant wandered off in the direction of the field triage. Uther tucked in his hands and sighed. He couldn't afford anymore officer casualties. He was already down his two senior NCOs thanks to Meridian's damned internal security, he didn't want to lose anyone else. Hell, he couldn't even find Connor anywhere, right when he needed her. The whole force was a scattered, disorganized mess.

Hundreds of new troops from the 2nd and 3rd Battalions were moving up to reinforce the battered 1st's battle line. The Battalion could use some much needed relief after the hours of trading shots with the Xenos invaders. Fresh tanks from the 46th followed the infantry, sweeping past the 4th Company on their way to the fighting.

Uther headed for the command post. It was little more than a mesh canvas draped over some poles to keep the snow out. Inside, several intelligence officers were going over a large map, a paper one, unlike the advanced hololith charts Regimental Headquarters had. Uther admitted the charts were woefully out of date, but that was Imperial record keeping for you. At least the main thoroughfares were the same. Captain Falk, their liaison from headquarters, was currently pouring over the map, marking new positions for 1st Battalion's companies. They were closely packed together, using overlapping fields of fire to slow the Ork advance.

Uther hunched over the map. They had given up five blocks to the Greenskins, but so far, the layered defense was holding. The Orks were paying for every step they took, and luckily, the Squiggoths had been stalled at the frontline. The Vendoland second and third battalions were marching forward to reinforce first. On their flanks, the Garredyne Rifles had achieved similar results, while the regiment had heard nothing concrete from the Cadian Xenobane. A few scattered transmissions had made it through, but there was no word whether they had pulled back, or if they were still holding the main line.

Uther studied the map further. A railway ran along the length of the Luesan canal. It had been cut off from the northern half of the spire in the opening phase of the invasion. However, it could potentially act as an artery for the guardsmen to move soldiers up and down the line relatively safely."Falk, that rail line runs the length of the river, right?"

"It looks that way. What about it?"

"Somehow, we need to connect with the Cadians," said Uther. He ran his finger along the rail line, stopping on the Cadian's last known whereabouts. "If they've held out, our retreat has just opened a gap for the Orks to flank them. We need to close that gap before the Greenskins get wise and exploit it."

Falk followed Uther's trace across the map. "It's possible, sir. But if the strike force was noticed, they could easily be surrounded. We still have a few thousand Orks to tend with on our own."

"2nd Battalion is here now, and our lines are holding," said Uther. He had an idea. "Get me a channel to command." The intelligence officer walked over to the vox communicator and came back with a speaker, which he handed to the Captain. "This is Captain Lars Uther, Company 4/1/85."

"Go ahead Captain, what's this about?" asked Major Lester on the other side.

"Request permission to take a strike force and reconnect with the Cadian regiment, sir. We've discovered a route along the old railway that could move troops swiftly and with little resistance. Our retreat has put the Cadian's right flank at risk. I intend to close that breach."

"Understood Captain, permission granted," said the Major. "Gather the resources necessary, I'll leave this operation under your control. Contain the breach, and re-establish communications with the Xenobane, is that clear?"

"Perfectly sir."

"Very well then, move at your own discretion, captain, good luck. Major Lester, out." Captain Uther handed the vox back to Falk. He straightened his helmet and stopped at the tent flaps.

"Thank you, Captain," said Uther. "Keep Command posted on my progress. I'm off to round up some men."

"Aye sir," said Falk. As Uther left the tent, the intelligence officer relayed the message to headquarters. Uther paced up and down the street, thinking to himself. How many men could he muster for this operation? Would they even get there in time? He needed backup.

Beryn helped Kalan and Donny lift Mol onto a stretcher, while Vornas hoisted the unconscious body of Commissar Connor into the emergency ambulance. A jeep pulled up beside the ambulance, and Alek jumped out, his arms laden down with medical supplies. Setting them aside, he went to inspect the wounded. "What are their injuries?" he demanded. The young private became deadly serious around wounded, working with a determination and confidence rarely seen by his squad mates.

"Lannik's caught some fragments in his leg," explained Beryn as Alek marked the trooper's forehead. "The commissar got hit by a Nob."

"How bad?" said Alek, looking over Connor. inspecting the wound, he peeled back the Commissar's coat, now caked in blood. Her sternum was cracked and her right shoulder was a bloodied mess of bone fragments and raw flesh. She was coughing up blood, and her breath was ragged and uneven. "How long has she been like this?"

"No more than twenty minutes," said Beryn. "Can you help her?"

"I can't do much here but stop the bleeding, she'll need to be moved to the med center," said Alek. He unwrapped a length of gauze, offering one end to Mathis. "Hold her steady while I wrap this. She's going to need a surgeon for anything more." Alek carefully dressed the wound, and then stabbed a needle filled with a clotting agent into Connor's neck. The wound slowly began to scab over as the injection went to work. He then hopped out and helped load the rest of the truck. As it drove away, Alek wiped the blood off his fingers and stood beside the corporal. "Did you bring her back in, then?" he asked.

"No, Vornas brought her back," said Mathis, shaking his head. "I almost couldn't believe it myself, especially after the other day."

Alek remembered the vicious glare that Vornas had given Connor after she refused to let him retrieve Remer. The grenadier now stood by himself, away from the rest of the company. Alek had noticed him growing increasingly distant over the week, but he was still nervous about approaching Vornas. Nobody wanted to test his anger. "I don't understand him, sometimes," said Alek. "But he never strikes me as one to leave a person behind, even if he does hate her."

"You think that's why he saved her?" asked Mathis, doubtful.

Alek shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe he just wants to kill her himself."

The ugly business of tending to the injured continued for another ten minutes, until the last stretcher had been loaded, and the final ambulance was on its way back to the med center. Captain Uther called for a gathering, and the remaining men of the company formed a circle around him. Nearly forty men had been hit, leaving the 4th company short-handed. Arms clasped behind his back, the Captain addressed the remaining soldiers. "At this time, the Cadians are the only regiment in our sector still holding the forward lines. That is an act of bravery we can all aspire to, but it won't last. I've been given permission to lead 4th company along the railway and prevent the Orks from outflanking our comrades.

I know we're depleted at the moment, so I've called for aid from the 2nd battalion, and they have agreed to supply us with armour support to cover our flanks. I want every trooper restocked on ammo and supplies, and ready to move out in half an hour, understood?"

"Aye, Captain!" shouted the company.

"Good, report to your COs and prepare to move out." As the company dispersed, Uther caught sight of the Grenadier platoon. "Grenadiers, come here for a second." The two squads circled the captain. "You men are the vanguard for this operation. You see any Orks, you engage and call for reinforcements, is that understood?"

"Yes sir," nodded Hunder. "Corporal Kippler hasn't reported in yet, sir."

"You mean he hasn't come back?" said Alek, a tinge of panic in his voice. Captain Uther looked at the private questioningly. Alek explained, "Kippler was spotting for the artillery, Captain. He was on the frontline the last I heard from him. I got him in touch with the PDF crews, and then, nothing. He closed his vox bead."

Uther sighed. "Very well. Corporal Mathis, you're acting sergeant. Follow Hunder's orders and keep your head down." Damn it, Uther thought, looking to the Daredevils. "Have you seen any sign of Commissar Connor?"

"She took a hit, Captain," said Mathis hesitantly. "We sent her off with the wounded."

Uther's face turned to stone. Instinctively, his hand went to his shoulder. The synthflesh had fully integrated with the damaged tissue, it had been for nearly a year. But to Uther, he could still vividly remember losing his arm, and how Connor had paid for his replacement. And now she had been hit as well. "I see," he said eventually. "Thank you for bringing her back, men."

"Yes sir," said Mathis. The corporal looked wary, afraid he'd said something wrong.

"Carry on." Uther walked away, slowly processing the news. It was a fact of war that one person was as vulnerable to a bullet as the next. But it would still take Uther time to reconcile seeing someone close to him in that situation. When a trooper was killed, he felt empathy and regret, but he'd learned to live with it. But Connor, she was different. Worry washed over Lars in a way he hadn't experienced since he was an officer cadet. He wished that Mathis hadn't told him at all. His mind was split between preparing for their attack and fearing for Connor's life.

Kippler crept along the terraced rooftop, stalking his next target. Despite nearly being killed at least a dozen times marking the Squiggoth's positions, the only thing going through his mind was the lack of Ork aircraft. Throughout the first week, Kippler witnessed dozens of dogfights above the Spire. But now, the skies were eerily quiet, as the Navy had managed to gain air superiority over Golgotha. The Navy's atmospheric fighters had been redeployed over the lake, making continuous strikes against the Ork Rok that had embedded itself in the water. Kippler would have given his right arm for some close air support at the moment, but he had to make do with his eyes and the skill of the gunners he kept feeding coordinates to.

Snow whipped into his face. The ground below was covered in a sea of green. Thousands of Orks were rampaging over the strip and into the narrow streets along the Canal's edge. Kippler wouldn't even need to aim well to guarantee a kill. But he was on his own, against a million greenskins. Prioritizing the Squiggoths was his first and only goal. The remaining war beasts had run amok, trampling friend and foe alike. Gazing over the building's lip. Kippler drew a bead on the nearest Squiggoth.

The beast's heavy footsteps were breaking through the weakened surface layer of the Spire. Such intense shelling from the Imperial guns had severely damaged the support domes that held up each layer of the Spire. Several of the leveled buildings had already collapsed into the abyss, leaving gaping holes in the surface crust exposed to the elements. Kippler trained his long las on the panicked beast, transmitting the targeting feed to the gun battery. A moment later, the artillery rained true once again. Six concentrated earthshaker rounds hit their mark, battering the Squiggoth. As it collapsed, the immense weight was too much for the weakened ground, and the Squiggoth tumbled into the undercity, leaving another sinkhole in its place.

"Marked, target hit. Other targets clear of the firing zone. Thanks for your help, arty." Kippler packed up his gear and moved again. He flipped his vox bead back to the squad channel. "This is Corporal Kippler, does anyone read me?" he asked. Being so focused on aiding the gun crews, Kippler had not contacted the Daredevils in over an hour. The signal was very weak, he must have been on the very edge of the vox channel's radius. A voice cracked through the static.

"Corporal Mathis here, Kippler," said Beryn. There was an audible relief in the man's voice. "We thought you were dead."

"Well, I soon will be unless I get the hell out of here," muttered Kippler while he quickly moved along the building's edge. "What's your situation?"

"Rejor and Lannik got hit, Rejor couldn't shake it," said Beryn solemnly. "There wasn't anything we could do for him. Captain's got us advancing along the railway to reinforce the Cadian's. Looks like he wants to buy some time for the regiment to regroup by drawing the Orks our way. They want to know where you are."

"I'm on my way back to the CP," Kippler said hastily. He dropped down several flights of stairs along the fire escape. "The Orks haven't spotted me yet, but there's a lot of them between me and you."

Beryn's voice crackled. "Hold on, somebody's just accessed the channel. It's Lieutenant Hunder. He wants to speak to you."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

Hunder's stern voice spoke. "I want you to stay put, Kippler, do you understand? Do not try anything stupid to get back here. Take cover inside, you won't last two minutes on foot on the ground. The area is crawling with greenskins."

Kippler stopped his descent, flopping his arms in exasperation. "So what do you want me to do then? Just sit here?"

"That's exactly what I want you to do. Get inside, and stay low. Just trust me on this on, Corporal. Captain Uther has a plan, and if it works, we'll grab you as soon as we can."

Kippler sighed, "Yes, sir, by your order." He cut the vox bead channel and walked over to the window along the fire escape. He shattered the glass with his rifle butt and climbed inside. The room was all dull metal, and only barely lit from the grey light passing through the broken window. Kippler pulled down his night vision goggles and gently slid the door open, walking into the pitch black hallway with his weapon ready for anything that he might encounter.

Lester and Crassus watched the second and third battalions march past the Leviathan Command Vehicle. Crassus could see the smoke far down the road ahead, where the battle with the Orks still raged. Flecks of snow melted in Crassus's coffee as the wind picked up again. What a ghastly day for combat, he thought. Come rain or shine or blizzard, it was all the same to scum like the Orks. Crassus took another sip, and then addressed Armand's report. "Well, he certainly is willing to take the initiative. If Captain Uther's detachment can close the gap with the Cadians, we will advance. With all three battalions, we should have enough men to push the Orks back."

"Yes, sir," said Lester, nodding in agreement. " I'll relay the information to the Garredyne Command. I've also received word that our gun batteries have effectively crippled the Orks' war beasts. A man from 4th Company managed to provide accurate coordinates."

"Excellent, Armand," said Crassus. "Perhaps we will get a lucky break today."

"That's one way of looking at it," said Lester. "If he hadn't put his life on the line, we'd be pulling back across the canal with a dozen of those monsters chasing us."

Crassus set down his cup, and pulled his greatcoat tighter around him to ward off the cold air. "Well, put him in for a medal, then. Selfless acts don't go unrewarded. It will be good for morale. Emperor knows we could use some with this damn weather."

"Yes sir," Lester said bluntly. Crassus looked at him. Lester's face was drawn, and he kept fidgeting in place. Crassus could tell something was bothering Armand.

He looked hard at the Major. "Armand, speak plainly with me. No rank, no insignia, just as a friend. You're not comfortable here, are you?"

Lester's face betrayed his words, even as he spoke them with unconvincing ignorance. "What? No, Ertrand, I'm fine. It's nothing, really."

"Cut the bullshit, Armand. You're not happy, I've known you long enough to see that. You're not a desk jockey, and you're not one for being on the receiving end of orders. You belong out there, with the men, right? That's what you want."

Lester's face contorted as he tried to summon the words. "Er, well, you see... oh sod it, yes, Ertrand, you're right. I hate this busywork. Give me a pistol and a bayonet any day over another goddamned servitor."

Crassus chuckled, and then smiled at his friend. "That's what I thought. Tell you what: grab your combat gear, and grab a ride. I want you up there with 1st Battalion when we move. I need somebody I know can get the job done right, and you're as good as I've got. Wait for the word that we've linked up with the Xenobane, and then advance."

Lester positively beamed. He snapped off a salute with a big grin on his face. "The Orks won't know what hit them, sir."

As Lester left to gather his gear, Crassus reflected on the past years. They were the old warhorses now, as strange as it seemed. Sicarus Plateau, Angel Gate, Spire Legis, Urizen, Crassus and Lester had gone through all those campaigns together, as partners. And now, here they were running the entire regiment together. It seemed like the job for old men with large beards and monocles, men like the Artemian General Derim. But Ertrand was barely thirty five. Most of the men in the Vendoland regiment had joined at the minimum age, eighteen. He'd been older than most when he was selected for officer duty, but by the whole, the 85th had been an army of young men.

Now he looked at them. The youngest man was still well into his twenties, with years of time in the field. They had changed. He no longer saw the faces of young boys. They were replaced with the hard stares of men who had seen too much. How things changed, he wondered. Soon, they'd be an entire army of old men. But it was such a pleasant comfort to see that enthusiasm in Lester again. Both being promoted to Major at the same time, Crassus had taken to management duties much better than Armand. When it came time to depose of their previous commander, Crassus had been the obvious choice to lead.

He trusted that Armand would not disappoint. He knew that the man would never forgive himself if he did, either.

The advance up the railway was swift, and it wasn't long before the 4th company made contact with the enemy. Orks continued to flow through the gaps in the line, and Uther's troops had almost immediately come under fire. Backed up by Chimeras and Leman Russ tanks, the infantry engaged the scattered Orks in close quarters fighting. Sporadic fire between abandoned rail cars and constant ambushes by cunning Ork infiltrators kept the guardsmen on their toes. But the company pressed onwards, meeting every blow with a tenfold return.

At the forefront of the column, the grenadier platoon carved a pathway for the rest of the company to follow. Even in their depleted state, the two squads held their own against the Greenskins. Lieutenant Hunder rallied his men, focusing lethal hellgun fire on the Orks. Sergeant Ennis dashed forward, followed closely by the 2nd squad. He peeled around the front of a train, slicing into the Orks from behind. Hunder and the Daredevils passed through the links in the rail cars, hitting the Orks flank. Together, the two squads routed the pack of Orks, clearing the path for the rest of the Company to advance.

The railway ran the length of the Spire, from the warehouses along the coastline to the edge of the dead zone. It was a straight shot to the Xenobane's position. Lars led the 4th company as swiftly as he could. He was determined to make the Orks pay. What had started as confusion and aimlessness had flared into white hot anger. Connor was in the hospital because of those green vermin. Every person they had hurt would be avenged. He'd use his bare hands if he had to.

"Gunfire up ahead!" called Hunder. The grenadiers halted, leaving their weapons aimed down the railway. The 4th company gathered up behind them, flanked by their armor. Captain Uther grabbed the ladder on a boxcar, climbing up to address the assembled soldiers.

"All right men, this is it!" roared Uther. "Mortars, find a hole and dig in. 2nd and 3rd platoons, you're with me, we're going up the middle. Follow the grenadiers through and link up with the Cadians. Everyone else, find targets of opportunity, and lay into them. No prisoners, no mercy. For the Emperor!"

As one, the Vendolanders rose, guns ready. Uther revved his chainsword, hatred in his eyes, and fire in his heart. Raising his weapon high, he led the charge. Ahead, a sentinel walker was hastily backing up in the face of a pack of Orks, its flamer scorching them to a crisp. The vendolanders quickly moved to fill the gap, pushing into the oncoming horde. Uther waved down the sentinel, and the cabin lid popped open. "Captain Uther, 85th Vendoland. What's the situation?"

"Communications were cut, we've been trying to re-establish our lines with the rest of the forces in the sector. The Orks have been giving us a pounding," said the pilot.

"Get word back to your commander. We're advancing on the Orks. The other regiments will wheel around to link up with the Xenobane and crush this attack. Tell the comms to switch to the Vendoland emergency channel, we'll use it to relay information until we can get the main lines back up."

"Aye, sir, on my way!" The sentinel pilot saluted and turned his vehicle back towards the Cadian headquarters, racing off with long strides. Lars turned back to his troops. They were driving into the narrow streets, using what cover they could find and liberally firing explosive shots at the Orks. Uther joined 2nd platoon, slowly creeping up the road behind one of the tanks. The Russ's huge battle cannon blasted apart buildings, and its side sponson bolters turned the narrow advance into a death trap for anything out in the open.

Constantly, Orks continued to attack them. Breaking out of buildings, they would tangle with the guardsmen in close combat. Troopers were hacked and torn while their bayonet strikes struggled to find their mark. Uther slashed at the Orks, cleaving bone and flesh with every strike of his chainsword. An Ork Nob leapt from a window above, bringing its huge chainaxe down on him. Lars fell to the ground, bringing up his own sword, and revving the blade again. The teeth caught the Ork's weapon, and the motion snapped back their weapons. Lar's sword was wrenched from his hand, while the Ork's axe jerked wildly before embedding itself in the side of the Russ.

While the Nob worked to yank his weapon free, the Captain scrambled to his feet, drawing his bolt pistol. Seeing him coming, the Nob used his free hand to throw a punch at Uther. The blow connected solidly with his breastplate, knocking the wind out of him, but he kept coming. He ducked under the greenskin's next swing, and brought his pistol up into its ugly face. Uther fired two shots point blank into the bastard's skull. The rounds exploded, showering him with brain matter and chunks of green flesh. The Nob's twitching body fell to the ground, its axe still stuck in the tank's hull.

Uther stumbled backwards, gasping for air. Liutenant Lonnis grabbed him by the arm and held him upright. "Are you alright sir? Are you hit anywhere?"

"I'm fine, Lieutenant," said Uther, still breathing heavily He waved Lonnis off. "Just got the wind knocked out of me. Keep them moving forward, we're almost to the Cadian frontline."

Vox operator Relt ran up to the Captain's side. "Sir, the Cadians are on our channel, I put them through to Command. They're readying up for the attack, waiting for us to link up."

Finally catching his breath, Uther spoke. "Let's not keep them waiting then. Driver, let's get this tin can moving a little faster! Everyone, at the double."