Miles above the planet sat three Imperial Navy cruisers. In each, over thirty thousand imperial guardsmen boarded onto their transports. Many of the troopers weren't overly concerned about another war on another planet. Most had seen over six other warzones on as many different planets. In the Kratanos 8th, all men were veterans, handpicked and closely trained by their superiors. Many could shoot just as well as an Astartes. Several dozen could shoot better.
Due to this, and their highly tried and true small force tactics, over the last five years, only five thousand men were lost and replaced in an army consisting of just over one hundred thousand. Most regiments would take casualty rates of over twenty-five percent annually, while this highly trained force was only taking one percent casualties.
As the drop ships began their descent to the main continent, Ignace Mathis looked on in pride. He had been in the regiment for over fifteen years now. Both of his arms were now bionic replacements. His left arm had been a trophy for a dark eldar pirate, until they had hunted him down and slain him. His right was lost to a nasty blow from some ork warlord's huge chainaxe. He had manage to kill the warlord a few minutes later, only seconds before he passed out from blood loss.
As he scratched his chin with the cold replacement fingers, he decided he didn't mind. His arms were just bare metal, although anti corrosion and rust coats were present. He couldn't afford an artificial skin covering on either of his arms, but he felt that just added to his intimidation when trying to keep moral up through fear or when facing an enemy leader.
Some of the men didn't like the appearance of his arms. They reminded some of the men too much of the necron force that had wiped out half of his regiment back when they only number three thousand. Back when he was only a captain.
Now he was a general. Technically, while the 8th division was all one unit, it consisted of a hundred sub units, each led by a captain. Most of the time, the sub units worked alone or in small groups. A mass gathering like this was rare and was only used for huge invasions.
Mathis took a drag from his vintage cigar he had received as a present from the previous planet. Apparently, it was worth more than the five times the annual earnings of a factory manager on that world. Mathis thought that it was absolutely vile. But still, one does not look a gift grox in the mouth. Unless you want your head bitten off.
He heard the door behind him open behind him and heard the steady and familiar tread of his assistant and his personal sanctioned psyker.
"Yes, Dilloth, what is it?"
"Your transport is ready for you, sir. Shall I accompany you down to the planet?"
"Of course, friend. I wouldn't dream of treading on yet another ork filled world without you covering my scrawny hide."
The psyker chuckled at the thought of Mathis being considered scrawny. While he didn't look large, due to the slim nature of his arms, Mathis was a powerful man. His 'enhanced' arms allowed him to take a storm bolter as his main weapon, a feat usually only accomplished by veteran Astartes. Most men's arms would fly off due to the high recoil, but Mathis was used to his bionic arms and they were strong enough to withstand the recoil.
In his other hand, he would carry a power fist into battle. The disruption field mixed with the sheer mass of the fist made the weapon heavy and slow. Mathis had used it so often, it felt more natural than his actual hand, and he could fight with it just as well. He opted to have it permanently installed to his right hand two years ago. That took some time to adjust to. Poor trooper Darcis was the butt of the lesson Mathis had learned that day. You don't give pats on the back while wearing a power fist.
That memory still haunted Mathis. His favorite captain and best friend, Captain Tarkus. Tarkus had just managed to direct his fire team's fire to attack a single point on a chaotic baneblade. That point was a thin piece of metal covering the main shell stock for the battle cannon. The concentrated lasfire had melted the armor and set off the high explosive within. Mathis had forgotten about his power fist. The next thing he knew, his hand had gone through Trakus' chest. He died seconds later.
Mathis shook out of his memories and followed Dilloth to his personal lander. It was stored in the center hanger. The hanger was a breathtaking sight. It was absolutely huge and filled to the brim with fighters, bombers and troop transports. Mathis caught up to Dilloth and walked beside him.
"How many men have already landed?" Mathis inquired.
"Roughly fifteen thousand. We also have twelve hundred chimeras, one hundred and fifty Leman Russes of various builds, two hundred and thirteen basilisks, and three dozen hell hounds."
"Excellent. Any ongoing battles?"
"Yes sir, it seems Tranik hive is under a siege. That would be the hive guarding the entrance to the friendly continent from the trade strip. They've been under siege for," Dilloth checked his dataslate, "three months. More or less once we received the distress call."
"I'm still upset about that. The Planetary Governor should have contacted us the moment the first hive fell."
"We can't do anything about that now, sir."
"I know. Fit as many troops as you can into those chimeras along with the Russes and the hellhounds. Let's give that hive some relief."
They walked up the ramp to the ship and sat in the restraint seats. The pilot flicked on the engines and they began their descent.
"All right, we're going to mount up with eleven other companies and stop the siege on Tranik Hive. Check your weapons, grab extra ammo, and mount into your chimeras. Remember, we're fighting greenskins again. No need to worry, we've done this plenty of times before," Captain Savlon reassured his men.
After he made his announcement, his troopers went about cleaning their lasguns and grabbing a few extra clips. He didn't know exactly how strong the greenskins were or if they had any armored units or even, Emperor forbid, gargants. Luckily, he heard reports of their own armor elements accompanying them into the battle.
Lost in thoughts, Savlon failed to notice the foot that shot out in front of him. He fell flat on his face, but rolled on his back, knife drawn almost immediately after hitting the ground.
"Clumsy oaf, watch your step," sneered captain Bruk.
"Why don't you get your men ready instead of playing childish pranks, Bruk. Or are you still as stupid as a school boy?" snapped Savlon.
"You little runt, do you know who you are talking to?"
"A stuck up little prick who thinks he's all important just because he lived on Terra. You and a dozen billion others. You didn't even come from one of the noble houses. Hell, you weren't even on the bloody planet when we picked you up!"
"I was, I mean am, more important than a dirty little farm boy from a ass-backwards agri-world."
Savlon leaped to his feet, knife still drawn. "Listen, Bruk," he said to the huge captain, "Don't you have to tend to your men? I mean, after the training you gave them, they can't know how to prepare by themselves."
Savlon found himself knocked back on the ground in possession of a bloody nose. He quickly swiped his legs to the left, knocking Bruk's out from under him. All one hundred-fifty kilos of him crashed into Savlon, knocking the wind from both of them.
The brawl continued for two minutes before several other officers managed to pull the two men apart. Savlon lost a tooth and was sure his nose was broken. Bruk wasn't in much better shape.
"Hey!" shouted another captain Savlon couldn't see, "Save it for the orks!" Several of the others cheered at that statement.
Bruk spat at Savlon's feet. "Filthy grox-lover!"
"Stuck-up blik!"
"That's enough, both of you," a commanding voice ordered. Both men turned to face their addresser and found themselves facing General Mathis. Savlon kneeled, but Bruk barely saluted the general.
"Stand up please, Savlon. I trained you personally. If that doesn't make us friends, I don't know what does," he chuckled. Now, both of you, get your men ready. I'm leading this assault and I expect both of your companies to be in perfect condition. Understood?"
"Sir, yes Sir!" said Savlon
"Whatever," Bruk sneered, walking away.
"That captain really does have a stick up his ass, doesn't he Savlon?"
"Yes, sir," Savlon said, stifling a laugh. "If you don't mind sir, I-"
"No, no, go ahead, get your men ready. My command squad will be joining you specifically and I want my bodyguard to be ready,"
Me? Though Savlon, fighting with the general? I thought he barely knew me.
"I guarantee that my men will be the best you ever fought with," Savlon claimed proudly.
"That's a bold claim. I've fought with Astartes before, Savlon."
"Well, sir, I stand by my claim."
"Then you better not disappoint. I will meet you in an hour."
Savlon turned away, back towards his company. This'll show that prick once and for all who's the better captain.
Trooper Jarvix was polishing his lasgun for the fourth time since the Captain gave to order to mount for battle. He knew the importance of a clean and fully functioning lasgun. Over the last three years, he had seen half of a dozen of his friends die due to jams caused by an angry machine spirit within the guns. He knew the holy oils made the spirit happier, meaning fewer jams. He muttered a few prayers to the Emperor under his breath as he continued shining the barrel of the weapon.
So intent on his work was he that he failed to hear the soft footsteps over the grass approaching him. A steel blade was held in the hand of the woman silently approaching the oblivious trooper.
"Blessed be the Emperor, for He watches over me in the darkness," continues Jarvix as the woman drew closer, "Blessed be His name, for it brings dread to the heart of my enemies. Blessed be His holy Imperium, for it is Just and Righteous as He designed it to be," The woman was standing behind him, blade ready.
"Praise to the Emp. . ." he stopped short as the blade pressed against his neck. The woman lowered her face to the trooper's ear and whispered, "Gotcha."
"You bitch," he replied calmly. The blade moved from his neck and the woman sat in his lap and began pulling her long, brown hair into a ponytail. She smirked at him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Haven't you played with your gun long enough?" she asked mockingly.
"No," he responded flatly. While he certainly loved her company, he never appreciated when anyone interrupted his cleaning rituals. That might anger the machine spirit. "You know how I feel about you interrupting my combat traditions, Katly. By the Emperor, you will be the death of me."
"Of course I will. Hell, I could kill you right now. I control you, boy."
"Please, you can't control me," he chuckled. Katly responded by hungrily kissing him for a few seconds. When she pulled back, Jarvix looked at her and replied, "Okay, yes, you do control me."
"Cut it out you two!" Jeered one of the other men prepping for battle.
"Just 'cause you can't get any doesn't mean the rest of us have to be virgins!" Jarvix called back.
"You two really ought to cut it out."
"Get off of our bloody backs, you bastard," Jarvix sneered as he turned around to see Captain Savlon standing behind him.
"What did you say trooper?"
"Er, I said 'Get off of the muddy packs, my master',"
Savlon looked like he was about to laugh at Jarvix, but managed to fight the urge. "Right, I'll ignore that. In the last engagement, I lost Peterton, one of my honor guard. I have yet to find a replacement. You, Trooper Olig Jarvix, are one of the best shots in my company. Would you like to join me in my guard?"
"Sir, I'm speechless,"
"But you're going to say something anyway"
"Er, right. Sir, I'm only a trooper."
"I am aware of that."
"And the honor guard usually only allows in former sergeants ."
"I am also aware of that. Should I assume you are denying the position?"
"No, no no no no, sir, by no means. I'm just shocked, is all."
"Understandable. Trooper Katly, please remove yourself from my guard's lap."
"Anything you want, sir," she said sulkily as she got up and walked away.
Jarvix waved after her, "We'll meet up after the fight!" he called. She raised her hand to show she understood while she continued to walk to her squad.
"Now, Jarvix, if you are done playing boyfriend, we have a fight to get ready for."
"Of course, sir."
Jarvix grabbed his lasgun and put three frag grenades on his belt. He checked to make sure he had all of his flak armor on. Savlon noticed this and said, "Don't worry about your armor. You're getting some nice and new carapace armor. Only the best for my guards."
Carapace armor! thought Jarvix, Not even the sergeants get that! So much was happening so fast. "Anything else I should know sir?"
"Yes, one last thing. You are not only guarding me, but the General today. He's accompanying us onto the field. He chose our company to act as his main go-to unit for this fight, and that means we're going to have to work together."
Again, Jarvix was struck. The General! Most people outside of the captains never see the General! As he followed Savlon to the Chimera, he could barely contain himself.
"Right Jarvix, your armor is inside the Chimera, along with your hell-gun, hell-pistol, extra grenades and a one shot hand flamer, just in case. Don't say I had never armed you well."
"No sir, I never would."
"Good. We depart in twenty minutes."
Jarvix climbed into the cramped transport and began to get dressed and start his cleaning ritual on his new hell-gun. Maybe the Emperor had heard my prayers after all.
Captain Savlon saluted General Mathis as he approached. "My honor guard is at full capacity now, sir. The best men I have are willing to lay down their lives for you."
"Excellent, but let's hope it doesn't come to that. Look here at our current strategy and tell me what you think."
Savlon observed the satellite image of the hive. The horde was completely surrounding the hive, leaving no area for new supplies to enter the hive. The orks also have large numbers of looted anti-aircraft tanks, preventing supplies from being air dropped. The citizens were starving and would run out of food in two weeks. The siege would have to be broken on at least one side by then.
Savlon noticed three different arrows leading into the eastern siege. This was meant to generally break ork forces and wither down the orks numbers. Standard attrition tactics, but Savlon knew they only had twelve thousand or so men to operate with against over a hundred thousand orks on that side alone. If they condense their forces, however, they could strike a blow to a few key ork leaders, shatter moral, and break the siege quickly, or at least get the troops to the hive walls where they can fight behind cover, giving them a better chance at winning a war of attrition and giving them the ability to fight in two directions when the rest of their division arrives.
Savlon told all this to Mathis who nodded along, following the captains logic. At the end of the explanation, Mathis slapped Savlon solidly on the back with his non-powerfist hand.
"Good eye, Savlon, and a better mind. Your strategy was what he had in mind all along. This was a copy of the strategy suggested by several other high ranking officers in the sector. This follows traditional army tactics, which would be wasted here. You passed the test with flying colors." He checked the chrono installed on the wall. "Deployment is in five minutes. Let's go to our chimera, shall we?"
Savlon led him to their command chimera and introduced all the men in the honorguard.
"And finally, this is Trooper Jarvix."
"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Jarvix said, eagerly shaking the General's hand.
"It is also an honor to meet you, Jarvix. I've heard great things about you. Your shooting, your amazing tactics, your ability to make the female troopers feel at home," he said with a wink.
"With all due respect, that would be female trooper. I may be a killer and monster, but I'm no cheater."
Mathis turned to Savlon, "Honorable kid. He has spirit, I'll give him that," he turned back to Jarvix, "Are you ready to lay your life down for the Emperor, boy?"
"Yes, sir. Been ready since I was born."
"Good. He may call upon you today. However, for my sake, let's hope he doesn't. Or else Savlon will kill me for losing his best shot."
"Damn right I would, General."
The guardsmen marched into the Chimera and sat down."
"Three hour ride to the hive. Your asses are about to get real numb!" called back the driver. With a loud grumble and a belch of noxious fumes, the tanks moved east, towards Tranik hive.