Rule 4: Always inform transport pilots of their cargo.

"Deploying the Ultramarines!" The first pilot exclaimed as the Thunderhawk touched down to the ground.

"I thought we had the Dark Angels?" The second asked, looking up from the controls.

"Here, let me check the dossier," The first said, picked up the sheet, "Nope, it say's we have the Salamanders, but the dossier is always wrong."

"Okay then, what the hell do we have? They never told us what Legion we were assigned to!"

"... Was it the Blood Angels?"

"How should I know! They never told us!"

"Did you check their paint colors?"

"The Thunderhawk isn't even painted yet."
"... Well it can't be the Iron Hands."

"Why not?"

"Because the other Thunderhawk is delivering them." He explained, pointing to a second unpainted Thunderhawk.

"Wait, I thought they were carrying the Imperial Fists."

"Screw it, you wanna go check?"

"Why the hell not, the ramp is jammed anyway." With that, the two pilots climbed down and headed around to the ramp, and began to lower the ramp. The legion inside was painted a dirty green, coated in a rusty brown trimming. "Oh, it's just the Sons of Horus." The two pilots just nodded in appreciation of finally knowing what they had, before slowly closing the ramp.

"How long do you think the ramp will hold against the traitors?"

"... Five minutes probably."

"That's enough time to run, right?"

"Easily." This was interrupted, as banging noise sounded through the ramp, and the two pilots running towards the Iron Hands, screaming their heads off.

A.N. Well, here it is. Chapter 4. Sorry we took so long, and the short chapter; but, that's life for you, and we're not really being paid to do this. Next time should hopefully be a bit longer.