CHAPTER THREE

Know thine enemy.
You are known to him already

Sermon Primaris, the Ordo Xenos

The explosion blossomed in space like the onset of a beautiful sunset. As Commissar Varin exited the bridge of the Leviathan, he spotted the entire bridge crew standing and saluting the fallen civilians out of the corner of his eye. He longed to do the same, but had to prove that he was worthy of his rank.

The Commissar continued to his living quarters. He hated space travel, the lack of control was unnerving. Putting his life and the lives of his entire company in the hands of twelve men did not suit him at all.

As Varin entered his adamantium housed room, he realized he was no longer fatigued. The adrenaline due to pumping las rounds into imperial soldiers had woken him up completely.

He silently prepared for battle. Images of Imperial soldiers falling in battle against an overwhelming force of rebels crossed his mind, preparing him for a truly suicidal battle.

Varin could no longer stand it. He exited his room, and began to check the preparations for the oncoming assault.

Only seconds later, his ear bud buzzed, and a voice came over. "Commissar, sir. Just thought you should know... ETA to Emperor's Light is twenty minutes, over." Jones' familiar voice sounded in his ear.

"Ten four Captain. Over and out."

Varin had never experienced a longer twenty minutes in his life. Anticipation and anxiousness flowed through his veins, and he couldn't sit still no matter what methods he tried.

Men were beginning to fill the corridors of the Leviathan, each preparing for battle. Finally, the Commissar's ear bud buzzed once again. "Commissar, sir. ETA is one minute, over."

The Commissar directed himself towards the bridge once again. "Okay, Captain. I'll be up there to monitor the landing. Over and out." The connection was filled with a brief moment of static, and then cut out.

The bridge door slid open and the Commissar entered. There were no more frantic crew members running from station to station. All were intently focused on what they were doing, some visibly 

sweating, hands hovering over the buttons that would send their enemies to hell.

The Captain motioned for Varin to watch the screen directly in front of them. Seemingly appearing out of thin air was the Imperial planet of Emperor's Light. As they exited the alternate dimension that some called "light speed", the familiar feeling of nausea overtook the Commissar, to be replaced with a light sense of vertigo only moments later.

Commissar Varin stared at the planet before them. Something was wrong. Shouldn't there have been patrols? Ships leaving the fuel station? Ships entering the fuel station?

No ships were present in the atmosphere around Emperor's Light. Only a strange sense of emptiness.

"I have a feeling something has happened here. Captain, scan the planet to make sure there is still fuel reserves."

The Captain nodded and began the scan. A few seconds passed. "Yes, sir. There's enough for four ships our size. It looks as if no Imperial ship has been here in weeks. Maybe months."

The Commissar rubbed his chin, a bad habit he had when he was pondering. "Something's wrong here, Captain. Something has happened here."

"I have that feeling too, sir. But we still need fuel."

Varin nodded. "I'm hesitant, but we must get the fuel. Maybe we've received a lucky break."

"One can only hope, sir." The Captain issued orders to his crew to begin the landing sequence.

The Leviathan entered Emperor's Light's atmosphere and began hurtling towards the ground. Forward thrusters were on max burn, keeping them from becoming a huge flailing ball of flames. The Commissar held onto a hand rail tightly, his knuckles white, as the ship shook and the hull creaked from the atmospheric resistance.

Two warnings began to blare in stations to Varin's right.

The crew members were frantically trying to fix the problem. "Captain, eighteen of the forward thrusters have failed, and more are beginning to do the same."

The Captain stayed calm. "Right, shut off all forward thrusters. We're going in for a hard landing boys."

The Commissar keyed the mic on the control panel near the captain's chair, opening a com link with the 

whole ship. "This is Commissar Varin speaking. Every soldier to Hangar A. Prepare for a hard landing. I repeat, prepare for a hard landing."

The Leviathan creaked and shook violently as it hurtled towards the surface of the Imperial Planet.

"Impact in 10." One of the bridge crew spoke. "5... 4... 3... 2..." An incredibly violent and painful impact resounded through the entirety of the Leviathan. The impact sent crew members flying out of their seats, and even the Commissar almost lost his death grip on the hand rail.

There was a second impact as the Leviathan skipped across the surface like a rock across water. Only a little less violent than the last, the second impact made Varin's knees buckle, and he fell to the floor.

There was a great rumbling as the Leviathan slid through the dirt like an abandoned axe from a fallen warrior. It finally came to a stop, and the Commissar lifted himself to his feet.

The Captain stood also. "Everyone okay?"

Collective moans and groans came from the bridge crew, but they were otherwise okay. Jones and his crew followed the Commissar down to hangar A, where all of his soldiers awaited. The large bay doors opened and the group walked in. The Commissar marched authoritatively through the crowd.

"Men, I'll keep this short and sweet!" There was a collective cheer from the company, they hated long pep talks. "Prepare for anything! Do what you do best, kick some Imperial ass!"

There was another collective cheer and a very loud "Hoo-Rah!"

The Hangar bay ramp opened slowly, and the 492nd piled out. Almost the moment their boots hit dirt, something sounded in the distance that instilled fear in all the men's hearts.

In the distance came an incredibly loud "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

The Commissar cursed his luck. "We've got Orks."