Chapter 2
Guardsman Noah Silastar of the Urban Tigers 25th Regiment
"Stand to attention!" sergeant Samson Cutter shouted with an unnatural amount of emphasis on the last syllable. His reply was a three-hundred strong chorus of boots thudding against the ground.
Amongst them was Noah Silastar, a single man amongst many, just another grain in a sandstorm. He reflected upon his performance with pride. Four months ago, he would have turned his head to gaze at the seemingly endless ranks of recruits, wondering what they looked like, or what they were doing.
Now, he was a statue. Another part of a well oiled machine.
Officers walked between the ranks of recruits. Stopping at random, they would ask a recruit to recite their identification details, why they were here, and inspect their equipment. Four months ago, men were whipped when they stumbled over their words; beaten if their equipment wasn't perfect; imprisoned to 'reflect' why they were here.
Now, not a single man or woman erred. Each and every one of them a well maintained part or something bigger – the Urban Tigers 25th Regiment.
Three hundred and fifty men and women had enlisted in the Imperial Guard four months ago and were welcomed with open arms. Strong arms. Merciless arms. Army arms. Many of them, Noah included, had joined because they felt safer against the Tau with a lasgun in their hand. None had anticipated how rigorous their training was to be. Some hadn't made it. There was no going home, it was do or die. On hindsight, Noah knew that they needed every bit of it.
Many of them had never left Ivy city at all. Noah had no idea what to expect beyond the city's walls, but with his new arsenal of weapons and skills he felt ready to face anything.
Noah had thought they would take the recruits beyond the walls of the city for training, but he was wrong. The soon-to-be 25th regiment had spent their four months of training at a training camp in the city outskirts. Ivy city had acreage of farmland contained within its walls, and it was here that the Urban Tigers trained their city-dwelling recruits.
The training camp was spread out over a farmer's field who had generously 'given' it to the Guard. The men and women slept in groups of four in small tents. That in itself had been enough to harden him up. He was accustomed to living in his parent's apartment in the good part of town. Living outdoors was hell to him. The endless rain meant that his tent was half-flooded with mud. The powerful winds threatened to blow away the tent, and the cold was inescapable.
The worst thing was that the officers were relentless. If a tent was too untidy, the owners had to clean every tent. Should a tent blow away, it stayed away until a replacement was found a week later. The only warmth they gave you was a tiny blanket, and sleeping with other recruits was strictly prohibited. Those that were caught were never seen again.
The recruits were woken at the crack of dawn, and went to bed late in the evening. The day was full of endless obstacle courses, firing drills and medic classes. They were taught how to operate anything from a multilaser to a vox-caster.
Despite it all, Noah had made it, alongside the three hundred people around him. Fifty people either had disappeared, or didn't survive. Noah suspected that those who disappeared were dead.
Today was their last day at the training camp. By nightfall they would all have been assigned their squads and been deployed to either the fight with the Tau in the east, or the defence against the Orks in the west. Although he knew that he would soon leave the security of Ivy city's walls, he was excited to meet his new squadmates and win the war with them.
He had made few friends with the recruits – the tent groups had been cycled every four nights to give the recruits a sense of what it could be like at the front. Noah had tried to put it out of his mind, but as his training progressed and he saw himself and the other recruits transform, he began to fear the fighting less and less. He was sure his fellow guardsmen felt the same.
An officer stopped beside him. Even after four months, the officers still managed to make him nervous.
"Identify yourself, man!" the officer barked. It took Noah a second to realise that he was talking to him, even though he wasn't looking at him.
"Recruit Noah Silastar, sir!" Noah shouted out, not daring to turn his head. "Soldier number 280695, 25th Urban Tigers regiment, sir!"
"Why are you here?"
"To fight for and protect the Imperium and my home, sir!"
The officer snatched the lasgun that was sitting upright in Noah's arm. He ran his eye over it, flicking it left and right. He ejected the magazine to check that it was clean, opened and closed the sights and inspected the trigger. Once he saw that everything was to his satisfaction, he thrust the rifle back to Noah and continued along the ranks. Noah breathed a silent sigh of relief.
Half an hour passed before the inspection was complete. To mark the end of it, the Colonel himself stood upon the makeshift stage at the front of the recruits. This was unusual, however if anyone felt curious they dared not show it. They all stood their ground.
Colonel Kent Poxin was a red faced, ill tempered man with a greying moustache that ran down the sides of his mouth and ended at his jawline. He seemed always to be angry, yet he spoke with enough passion and zeal to rival the Emperor himself, Noah reckoned.
"Men, today marks your ascension into the ranks of the Imperial Guard. Soon you will be the bulwark between the Imperium and those that would overthrow her. See to it that they don't.
"In an hour, the lists telling you who your sergeant is to be will be posted up at the command tent. Two hours later you will rally with your squad leader, and half an hour after that you will be redeployed. You are now Guardsmen of the Imperial Guard. The Emperor protects."
He got off the stage.
What an inspiration, Noah thought to himself, wide eyed. Sergeant Samson took the stage again, crushing Noah's state of awe.
"Company, left!" he said with his unnatural emphasis on every second syllable. In unison, the company snapped around with a thud of their boots.
"Ready," the Guardsmen snapped their guns into firing position, aiming for the skies.
"Fire!" A resounding thunderclap echoed around the camp as three hundred lasguns simultaneously discharged. Half a second later an echo reached Noah's ears as the sound rebounded off the city walls.
Such strength, he thought. No one will stop us.
An hour later, Noah was in the long line of recruits waiting to find out who their new sergeant would be. Rain drizzled down from the grey skies, splashing mud onto the recruit's boots. The single line stood in disciplined silence, yet Noah could feel a buzz of excitement.
His heart dropped when he finally saw who his sergeant was. Samson Cutter. He had hoped he would get someone more…celebrated; someone unique, like the legendary sergeant Ram, or the attractive sergeant Jane, or even served under the Colonel's own bodyguard sergeant.
But no, instead he was stuck with gruff, brooding, ill-tempered Cutter. The man seemed to take pride in disciplining the recruits without mercy. He was the man to sound the trumpet at the break of dawn. He was the man to route out any illegalities. Word was that he had killed all the recruits wanting to leave out of spite.
He could clearly picture Samson Cutter in his mind. The man had a face chiselled from rock. It never showed any emotion. His features were sharp and stern. His eyes were deep-set within his head, giving him a sinister appearance. His face was framed by a strong jaw line that was emphasised by his shallow cheeks. He kept his black hair trimmed.
He headed over to Cutter's designated area. It was a chimera at the edge of the camp. Its hull was painted with green and black stripes, with slashes of khaki along it and Imperial Harbinger painted along it. He could see the huge, powerful dozer blade the Tigers had to make use of on this planet. A canopy had been extended out from the side of the tank, protecting the six guardsmen underneath from the rain. Noah joined them.
"Welcome to the squad, soldier," Samson said when Noah stepped under the canopy. He extended his hand, surprising Noah. He warily shook his sergeant's strong hand. He didn't expect such a warm gesture from Samson Cutter. "What's your name?"
"Guardsman Noah Silastar, sir!" Noah shouted, straightening his body up. "Soldier num-"
"Spare me!" Cutter shouted over the top of him, easily drowning out Noah's voice. "I only asked your name, man. I have no need for that nonsense."
Noah's face flushed red. He saw the other men stifling their laughter.
"Sorry, sir," he mumbled.
"Don't apologize, lad," Cutter said. "Now that you've… announced yourself, you should meet your squadmates."
The men introduced themselves with a warm handshake. Within minutes the rest of the squad had arrived and everyone introduced themselves. The ten man squad was comprised of five regular guardsmen, a vox caster, medic, two engineers and sergeant Cutter. They were one of the three squads with a dedicated Chimera attachment. Noah was hopeless with names, but he was sure that in time he would form lasting bonds with his fellow guardsmen.
The second everyone was acquainted, Cutter called for silence. Noah groaned to himself.
This guy never stops, he thought.
"Alright gents," Cutter said. "And ladies," he corrected himself with a slight nod towards the two women in the squad – one of who was an engineer, the other a monstrosity of a guardsman. "We've the honour of heading west and protecting the sector from the Orks. I want the Chimera loaded and prepared for travel by the time I return."
With that, he turned his heel in the slushy mud and walked off into the chilling sheets of rain, chin held high.
Arrogant prick, Noah thought. It would take more than the vice of war for him to form a friendship with Sergeant Cutter.
Ten minutes later, the Chimera's canopy had been stowed and the squad sat inside the tank. The tanks powerful engines were idling, awaiting the sergeants arrival. It had a larger inside than Noah anticipated. The squad sat on canvas benches that ran along the outside of the tank, leaving a large space in the centre. The Guardsmen had stowed their kits under their seats. Above their heads were mounted lasguns. The tanks engine gave much needed warmth to its passengers.
Sergeant Cutter suddenly appeared out of the grey rain and thudded the button to close the rear door. As the gangway raised, he looked over the silent cabin.
"Can't tell if it's colder out there or in here," He said. "Ya'll going to be living each other for an indefinite amount of time, you best get to know one another." He strode to the opposite end of the cabin and shooed a man out of the Chimera's turret seat at the head of the group.
Noah was surprised at how the sergeant's presence seemed to break the ice between the squadmates. He turned to his left and introduced himself to the engineer woman beside him as the Chimera pulled out of the camp that had been his home for four months. He barely listened as the woman introduced herself. He was too distracted by his anticipation for the fight ahead of him.