A/N: Sorry for the tardiness with the update, time got lost on me for a bit there, been playin' too much Destiny lol. Kindly read and review.

"Here is the test to figure out if your mission is finished: if you're alive, it isn't"- Death Korps proverb

We had one day of rest a little ways behind the frontlines. S-1049 and I were still adjusting to our new comrades; Watchmaster B-63 was a lot less stringent than we were used to. At least when it seemed to come to R&R, we did a few drills early in the morning, a few CQC exercises, but then he just decided to have the squad have a 'bonding' experience, as he liked to call it.

Basically we had to get to know whom we'd be dying alongside; the Watchmaster seemed straightforward enough, though he was certainly…eccentric for a Korps officer to say the least. He looked every part the strong soldier of the Imperium, tall, easily dwarfing S-1049 and I, he was at least two meters in height, and broad shouldered. The way he wore his carapace armor made it look as though he hardly felt its weight. And throughout it there were various scratches, scorch marks, and one very big dent in the very middle of the breastplate.

The other grenadiers were all were wearing similar battle-scarred armor, one of them being nearly as tall as the Watchmaster himself. The other two were around the same height as S-1049 and I, though maybe just a bit taller, Surris had a slightly higher than average gravity so most Surrins were a bit shorter than average.

We were sitting down around a hastily set up table, eating some rations to keep our energy up for the day. The paste was actually fairly tasty, seemed as though it had some kind of flavoring as opposed to the usual blandness. We were actually at the site of our first battle, in the former enemy fortifications, the bodies had already been cleared by the time we got back from our foray into the manufacturing district.

Now the combination of Korps, Hoarfell, and Tartarian PDF had set up the base and most were milling about doing something or another. At the moment the guard had the enemy rebels on the run, their manufacturing capabilities were supposedly crippled in this sector and we seemed to have shattered their main lines. Tomorrow we were to deploy again to root out any further pockets of resistance along with a large number of the rest of the 82nd and Hoarfell. Supposedly the Randon had been making periodic drops behind enemy lines to soften them up ahead of the main sweep.

Once everyone was nice and settled Watchmaster B-63 decided to speak up. "They'll tell you that you shouldn't get to know each other too well in basic so that if your close friend gets pasted on the battlefield you won't freeze up." He stated, "but take it from me, knowing who you're fighting with and being able to form a strong bond with your comrades will get you out of a lot of sticky situations and increase all of our survival chances…so you two are from Surris if I remember, right?"

That caught us off guard, S-1049 seemingly didn't know what to say, I wasn't that far behind him in that line of thought. Luckily B-63 decided to help us along with the introductions.

"Right, well we'll start with introductions. Kinda just jumped into the fray before we could all get properly acquainted. As you know I'm your illustrious Watchmaster B-63, the fellow to my left is Corporal B-80, and those two gentlemen are F-920 and F-888 respectively." He paused for a moment allowing the information to sink in as we stared at each of the grenadiers in turn. "In case you're wondering B-80 and I come from Baurin, and the other two come from a nice little backwater known as Faur-Tertiary."

"You call our planet a backwater B-63? From all the stories I've heard from you and B-80 about Baurin you two were nothing but mill-workers and hunters on a lightly inhabited forest world." F-920 cut in with some mirth, F-888 actually chuckled at his friend's little jab toward our commanding officer. S-1049 and I were waiting for the Watchmaster to enact disciplinary action.

For a few moments it seemed like that was what B-63 was going to do, but then he bursts out laughing. Actually laughing, the scene was almost unreal, but the muffled sound coming out of his mask was indeed laughter, in all our time thus far in the 82nd there never once seemed to be any hint of camaraderie until now…except for between the two of us that is.

"Well, as I recall at least Baurin was a civilized planet; whereas yours was barely above feral status." B-80 interjected. "Anyway, enough about us, how was your world lad an' lass? Before the invasion that is, don't know if either of you have noticed yet, but when you're fighting to save a world you seldom notice the larger picture of it."

"Yeah, all I noticed about Surris was that I was freezing my vitals off and my lenses were frosting up while I was fighting orks. Wasn't exactly pleasant that planet of yours, no offense of course," F-888 spoke up.

A brief pause followed F-888's observation, I was actually about to answer the Watchmaster's question before S-1049 beat me to the punch. "Yes, Surris, was…cold. This trooper is sure you had noticed that. Outside of the cities the plains stretched on endlessly though, this trooper is unsure if you all fought out on the plains. But, during sunset it seemed to this trooper the most beautiful rock in the galaxy. Outside of the cities the sun would reflect off of the frost and ice on the ground, the colors of the sunset seemed to dance like liquid flame across the ground. Many on this trooper's world would say that you could see the Emperor's magnificence at work during those times."

S-1049 was silent after that small comment and left the grenadiers with time to contemplate what he said, it was certainly odd, very poetic even. It wasn't long before the Watchmaster decided to make a comment; he seemed the talkative type, strangely enough. "Aye, know what you mean, nothing quite compares to the sunset on your own homeworld. Take it from me; you get to notice many good sunsets on the many worlds of the Emperor. You are right though if I remember right Surris did have quite a spectacle when we got time to take notice of it. Orks hardly let up though eh?"

"Got that right, wretched xenos were dug-in tight on Surris. Bastards hardly gave us a choice when it came to the cities." B-80 stated, turning to us both regret entering his voice, "I am sorry if either of your homes were destroyed in the barrages, or if you lost someone dear. I know it won't make either of you feel better, but I have it on good authority that it was necessary. If there had been any other way the higher-ups would have taken the alternative."

I noticed S-1049's fist clench slightly, though he nodded in response civilly. He knew B-80 was being sincere, but his wounds were still fairly fresh. Even with our training and indoctrination I had noticed that whenever I had mentioned home he would become slightly bitter. I also noticed Watchmaster B-63 take notice of S-1049's clenched fist, a small wave of panic flowed through me like the cold winds of Surris.

"Little tense there trooper," B-63 questioned lightly, S-1049 didn't respond.

"Trooper S-1049's family was lost to the artillery strikes sir," I added helpfully.

"Ah, well as B-80 said before you have our sympathies. May your family find peace by his side, the Emperor protects." B-63 finished with a sincere tone.

"The Emperor protects," the other grenadiers echoed after him.

"This trooper is sorry its personal issues shall not affect its behavior any longer." S-1049 responded his body relaxing, the muscles un-tensing, "those events are in the past, and this trooper has a debt to repay the Emperor."

"That's very good to hear S-1049, I'm sure you'll get to do just that. Bit of advice, try, and accept your loss. Trust me when I say I know what you're going through. B-63 and I along with only a handful of others are all that's left of Baurin, it was wiped out by foul xenos I hope never to have to face again, despite that we carry on with our duty to the Emperor," B-80 stated solemnly.

"This trooper is sorry for your loss," S-1049 replied.

"Well received trooper, now what say we get away from this melancholy talk," B-80 said jovially.

"Yeah, how 'bout you two tell us what this 'keck' word is all about? I've been hearing you Surris recruits muttering it under your breaths whenever I get close enough, sounds like somethin' ill-mannered," F-888 questioned amicably.

"On Surris the keck is a seasonal wind storm, in the cities you don't really have to worry too much about it, but out on the plains it kicks up ice shards. Anything caught out in the open gets shredded, anyway over the generations it's just become a way for Surrins to say that a situation is out of hand," I paused for a moment. "Though there's strong superstition that it's bad luck to talk of the keck, so it's actually very much frowned on and considered an extreme curse in Surris culture."

"Bad luck? Don't tell me you lot are as superstitious as these two," F-920 questioned gesturing to B-63 and B-80. B-80 gave the Faur-Tertiary descendent a playful shove, meanwhile B-63 just seemed to glare.

"It's just something parents tell children so they don't develop bad manners," I replied.

"Oh, well I suppose it's not as bad as these two with their little ritual before deployment, I'd say it was borderline heretical if it weren't for the fact that it involves the only hard drink you can get on the Ipsum," F-920 stated.

"Yeah you Faur boys sure do like your liquor. Though I'm not sure how you can stand to really drink that Hoarfell crap, only reason I drink it is for the luck, and when I'm really desperate," B-80 said.

"If it is alright, this trooper would like to know what this ritual is," S-1049, spoke evenly, a hint of curiosity was in his voice.

"Well no big secret there trooper, any Baurin worth his fathers name has to have a drink both before, and after a war. It was considered good luck on our world, meant you celebrate what might be the rest of your life going in, and then thank the Emperor with a toast when you come through the other side. These Faur blighters only partake with us because it's free alcohol, but we let 'em for traditions sake," Watchmaster B-63 said.

"Oh," was S-1049's strangely downcast reply.

"Ah now don't be like that, I'm sure the Watchmaster'll let ya in on it for the next deployment. After all we plan to keep you two alive, don't we," F-888 said amicably.

"Aye, right about that, you two seem like good people, little strange, but that just makes ya fit in to the 82nd all the more. Better company than those fungus eating Hoarfell buggers anyway," F-920 supplied with an amiable chuckle.

A round of laugher occurred at that, of the three regiments on the Ipsum it seemed the 82nd and the 121st got along the least, the Randon hardly seemed to care too much.

"Speaking of them I notice you were getting pretty cozy with some of them Hoarfell boys on our last mission trooper," B-63 his frame still shaking with laughter said gesturing to me.

"Aye, what was that about lass, I know we don't show faces, but it hurts ta know you're trying to get a man not even from yer own regiment," F-888 offered with mock offense.

"They were troopers from Surris, this trooper simply wanted to partake in a friendly game with them, I assure you all it will not happen again if you think it will compromise this trooper's combat effectiveness," I replied.

"Oh, no there trooper, do whatever you like, within reason of course, we're just curious is all, thought you two were right close anyway myself," B-63 stated gesturing between Jericus and I, and for once I thanked the Emperor for the damned mask. S-1049 and I were silent yet again as the Watchmaster and the three grenadiers scrutinized us.

"Don't worry you two, rules against fraternization aren't nearly as enforced as they was in the past, the actual Kriegers in the 82nd have dwindled to the point where you don't have to worry about it too much. Just remember if they have K before their number don't let them catch you doin' it," B-80 gave another hearty laugh, the others joined in, meanwhile we both stayed silent.

Though the false assumptions were embarrassing I can't really claim such feelings toward Jericus anyway, strange as it sounds I feel almost too close to him for those kinds of thoughts at the moment.

"Alright, alright enough badgerin' the poor kids, let's move on to somethin' else, like how about you there trooper S-1049 and your CQC, you're too good at it for it to just be the Korps training. Were you some sort of fighter back on Surris?" B-63 questioned.

S-1049 gave a pause and when he spoke seemed almost bashful at what he was about to admit. "This trooper occasionally boxed after it got off its shift on the assembly lines, it was fairly good, though it still didn't last long against a Korpsman during initial training."

"Wait let me stop ya there, this Korpsman he happen to be one K-556, long scratch across his mask? Right tough bastard, likes to knock the wind from ya," B-63 questioned.

"Yes, this trooper believes the Watchmaster is correct," S-1049 replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I can't believe it, B-52 told me that K-556 was having a hard time with on of his recruits, I hadn't thought for a moment that it was you. Said you almost knocked that bugger flat on his arse that true?"

"This trooper…" S-1049 faltered for a moment.

"S-1049, was one of the best in our company at CQC, this trooper doesn't quite remember, but he may have indeed come close to beating our CQC instructor once or twice," I decided to reply for him.

"Ha, what I would've given to see that bugger humbled so," B-80 joined in.

"Yeah, bastard knocked my teeth out when I was being trained," F-888 agreed.

I'm not sure who started it, but the lot of us burst into uncontrollable laughter, even S-1049 and I, it was infectious, and so strange how these men seemed so much different from how they appeared at first. These moments of levity shone some light on how things really were in the 82nd, and they make me wonder how the Kriegers—only a few of whom I've seen and are left alive—are the way they are, what happened to them that made them train their troops the way we were trained.

How can they allow their sons and daughters to become numbers?

I know I shouldn't be thinking like this, our training tells me I shouldn't; Watchmaster B-52 told us that we shouldn't think like this. Still the questions keep piling up in my mind, who told Watchmaster B-52 these same things, or Watchmaster B-63, B-80, F-920, F-888, who were they before the 82nd?

It was only a little while later when S-1049 and I were alone, getting some rest before we were to return to the frontlines that I asked him the questions rolling around in my head, wanting to know what he made of them. Our bedding consisted of some standard Munitorum issued cots, our bedding our field blankets, which we used for pillows, our greatcoats more than sufficient for warmth. Surris was cold after all, in-fact right now I'm feeling a little too warm, I pulled my greatcoat off and lie on it instead, S-1049 follows my lead not too long after, he must be hot too.

"They didn't really tell us anything about themselves," I pause. "Nothing personal I mean, but the Watchmaster wanted us to get to know each other, and still this trooper hardly knows anything about them. Don't you find that strange?"

"This trooper doesn't really know. Maybe the Watchmaster was just messing with us, or maybe we'll get to learn more about them later. As for strange… this trooper doesn't really recall a time when things weren't strange," he paused. "We still have each other to keep ourselves grounded though, right Fenria?"

I felt like I ought to remember it, like when he said that word that some spark would remind me that it was my name, but you'd be surprised how fast you'd completely forget your own name. In that moment though, my breath did hitch, because of the confirmation that he did keep it for me, someone remembered.

"Right, Jericus, we have each other."

Suddenly, there was the sound of weapons fire down the line.

It was completely unexpected, I was on the Twisted Grox when it happened, and my squad was on another routine jump. We were supposed to land in an enemy occupied sector and harass whatever fractured supply lines they had left, but then when we were about halfway to our drop-off this PDF flyer came out of nowhere and opened fire on us. The pilot managed to keep the Grox steady long enough for most of us to make it out, Sergeant Joss thankfully among the survivors.

Her and I were really the last ones out, as I was about to jump she tackled me from behind and next thing I know there's a loud boom and the air at our backs is kecking hot, I glanced over my shoulder to see the Grox, or what was left of it, a smoldering twisted hunk of metal plummet from the air and crash into a nearby hab. Throughout it all the fact that I almost died was surprisingly not the first thing I was thinking about, it was that I didn't even know the pilots name.

We were cart-wheeling in freefall for a few seconds before the Sergeant finally pushed away from me; she righted herself expertly in the air and was properly falling. Not a moment later my own instincts kicked in, all those training drops they made us go through, some even coming really close to detailing almost the same exact situation. Righting myself I was now falling facing the ground, my left hand now gripped the control lever of my grav-chute, I knew from training I had to wait just a while longer… about five more seconds.

Five, four, three, two, one, and deploy. My descent now started to slow, and then it was as if I was floating, slowly bobbing in the air like a cork in the water. Sergeant Joss was only a few meters above and to the right of me, looking down I could see what was left of my squad all either making their landings, or already landed. Those with boots on the ground had already set up a perimeter, strangely enough the ground we were approaching had some kind of grass on it, a few tall things with green at the tops of them too, some kind of plant I think. Surris didn't have much plant-life, at least nothing that grew as tall as whatever those things were.

Finally I landed; my landing was quite soft considering I just jumped from an exploding valkyrie. Quickly I made myself useful getting into position beside Corporal Cathair Berach, he was the veteran that shoved me during my blooding; he along with Sergeant Joss took me under his wing. He's been teaching me how to survive on the battlefield; still I wish he'd be a bit more pleasant about it.

Sergeant Joss made touchdown seconds later. "Alright boys an' girls sound-off! I wanna know whose still in the land of the living," she stated clearly, not a hint that she had almost died not less than three minutes ago. Those of us left proceeded to sound-off; all told by the end of it of the 24 of us only 15 remained.

"Okay then, first things first we know we were shot down by a PDF flyer. We know they had to have known we were friendly, so until further notice all PDF forces are now to be on your shit-lists troopers. We get back to friendly lines and we figure out what the warp is happening from there, and unfortunately we can't just vox for an explanation or pickup 'cause it seems Delma is no longer with us."

Delma was our squad's long range vox operator; I guess he was still waiting to jump when the Twisted Grox exploded. Everyone seemed to be nodding in agreement of the Sergeants analysis of the situation and had an air of purpose and dogged determination about them, some even seemed to have unhinged glee at the prospect of a good fight ahead, which was to be expected, during my time with them one thing was clear to me at this point… the men and women of Randon are all insane.

"So, judging by the greenery and the fact that we were at about the halfway point of our flight I'd say we're in the municipal park of sector three. That means we've got about five klicks northbound to cover to get back to friendly lines," she continued.

"Yeah, that's if they still are friendly. If the PDF did turn on us then our main forces got hit hard from behind," stated Anrai the squad's eternal pessimist.

"Stow it Anrai, the PDF may have had that slight advantage, but if there's one thing we can be sure on it's that the blanks, and those Hoarfell boys will hold the line… much as I hate to admit it they're better at that sort of fightn' than us," the rest of the squad nodded, though grudgingly. It seemed that despite all the tension between the three regiments they trusted each other to do their respective jobs.

"Alright then. Gory, gory troopers," Sergeant Joss stated firmly.

"Helluva way to die!" Was chorused back enthusiastically, now that I had earned the right even I participated.

"Come on; sound off like you've got a pair!" The Sergeant cupped her ear.

"HELLUVA WAY TO DIE!" We thundered a second time.

"That's what I like to hear! Now move out troopers, standard defensive formation, make due with our numbers, and make adjustments where necessary. Lupa, Barach you're on point, Anrai, Renfer you take up the rear. The rest of you spread out in the middle, don't give a bunched up target," she said quickly.

We got into our positions and began our journey back to friendly lines, we were facing hard opposition, rebel forces were fairly heavy in this area, and now the PDF might be gunning for us. Despite all that I couldn't help but be in slight awe of the park we were in, it was nothing like the parks we had on Surris, which were at best brown patches of hardy plains grass; no this had green all over, and those giant plants growing up out of the ground, and to think this was all inside a single city. Barach noticed my distracted state and swiftly reprimanded me, my fault we were after all on point I had to be focused.

"Lupa stop gawking at the trees, keep an eye out for enemy activity, just got you blooded, can't have you die yet, warp damn you."

So they were called trees. "Yes sir, sorry sir," I replied, and then ignoring the strangely captivating plants around me I focused my mind to be vigilant. Over the next few minutes our progress was unimpeded before I managed to catch sight of something, local PDF uniform colors, dull yellow, and black vertical strips.

"Sir, movement to our left," I reported quickly.

"Good spot Lupa," he then relayed through the vox-bead. "Barach to squad, PDF forces to our left, about 100 meters, about three dozen, possibly coming to clean up any survivors, advise we hunker down and wait for them to pass, over." We waited scant moments for the reply.

"Copy Corporal, Hunker down people, wait for them to pass, over and out," Sergeant Joss responded. Even though he suggested it I could tell Barach was itching to fight the enemy, in fact all of the Randon seemed to want to, but they stayed still, hidden in the trees none of them breaking cover to take a shot and alert the enemy. It was a good thing too, we were outnumbered, and the PDF of this world didn't seem like pushovers, at least not to me.

The moments of waiting were tense, as I said before everyone seemed eager to start a fight, but they choked down the urge until the PDF patrol finally passed us.

"Alright troopers, lets keep moving," Sergeant Joss said through the vox-bead, her voice a crackly whisper in my ear. Barach and I got up first and resumed point, the park was hilly and we had to be careful when coming to the tops of those hills, for the most part we tried to keep to the spaces between them to reduce the likelihood of being spotted.

Running into several more patrols we avoided each one, Sergeant Joss definitely didn't want to make any rash moves. Though we had to assume, we didn't really know if the PDF was after us, although their presence in rebel territory being largely unmolested as they strolled about seemingly looking for something was pretty damning evidence.

The park ended almost abruptly, a metal gate separating it from the city streets beyond, the expanse of grimy rockcrete and building structures seemed like a rotting corpse and stood in hard contrast compared to the green park. How they managed to keep a park that nice so far down in a city I have no idea, though the air was much fresher here. We filed out carefully onto the street, crossing it in pairs at a quick pace, on the other side we took refuge in one of the maze-like alleyways.

"Okay boys an' girls from here we stick to the alleys as much as possible, patrols'll probably only be coming up the main roads. If memory serves we're nearly halfway home, let's try to keep avoiding fights until we've grouped up with at least one element from our comrades, everyone clear?" Sergeant Joss stated low but clearly. Everyone nodded affirmation and we headed out again Barach and I were rotated to the middle of the formation and a fresh pair of eyes and ears was put up front. I think it was Tretch and Ness, both I knew pretty well, but maybe not as well as I should by now.

They were leading us at a very brisk pace, much faster than Barach and I; we cut through alleyways strewn with garbage, debris, and other refuse. We could hear weapons firing in the distance; it started as far off echoes but soon turned into a steady rhythm. Suddenly Tretch and Ness brought us to a halt at the end of an alley; we all stacked up automatically when the say-so came through the vox-beads.

"Tretch what do we have," Sergeant Joss questioned.

"You should see for yourself Ma'am, I think you'd know better than me," Tretch's strangely soft voice responded. Right after the words left his lips the Sergeant made her way to the opening of the alley beside him. I saw Tretch hand her the small periscope he uses to peek around corners, it only took her a moment to observe whatever situation there was.

"Well, that's somewhat comforting," Sergeant Joss states handing Tretch his periscope so he could keep an eye on the situation.

"What's comforting Ma'am," Barrach asked from my right.

"Arbites Fighting the PDF, means we're not alone, I doubt Adeptus Arbites would be in on the rebellion." She paused, "you know what that means troopers, friendlies, let's help 'em out. There are about a dozen PDF pukes, and three Arbitrators, Barach pick six troopers you want to go with you, you're gonna flank the buggers. Everyone else is with me, our job'll be to provide back-up for the Arbitrators and keep hostile attention occupied," turning to Barach she continued. "Gory, gory is your signal phrase to let us know when you're in position, and well I'm sure you know what the 'go' phrase is gonna be Corporal. Everyone got that?" She waited looking on as a few of us offered nods, thumbs up, and other signs of comprehension. "Good, let's get it done troopers, Barach pick your team."

"Alright, Flair, Anrai, Renfer, Foss, Ness, Lupa you're coming with me." He turned to the Sergeant, "on your go Ma'am."

"Tretch, how do things look," Sergeant Joss asked.

"I don't think they'll notice team two getting across the street and into position Ma'am."

"Good, you've got your go Corporal, keep low, and get around them,"

"Roger Ma'am, let's move out troopers." Barach led the way, we stacked up at the alley mouth, and waited for his go, he gave the signal, and then crouched low and ran across the street to the opposite alleyway, we all followed after him two at a time, waiting for the duo ahead of us to make it across first. Foss and I were the last two to cross the street.

The action successful and the enemy seemingly none the wiser Barach gave the okay sign through the vox-link. "Looks like we're good Ma'am see you on the other side."

"Copy that Corporal," Sergeant Joss responded.

With that done our fire-team began to move through the veritable maze of alleyways leading to the enemy's vulnerable rear. A little ways into the sound of additional lasfire echoed through the narrow walls around us as the Sergeant led the distraction team. The sides of the alley walls were fairly clean; given how low we were in the city, still trash and other refuse crunched under our boots as we made our way to a good flanking position.

Skirting around what looked to once be some sort of restaurant, or some other eating establishment we came upon the open road leading into the intersection the PDF were held up in on their left flank, Barach stopped us so that we were all still in cover.

"Okay boys'n'girls get with your battle-buddies," everyone paired up, I stayed beside Barach, he was my assigned battle-buddy, the 145th liked to pair the relatively new recruits with seasoned vets like him, at least for a bit after they've been blooded. Anrai went with Flair, and Ness paired with Foss, once everyone paired off he nodded, pleased with the arrangements. "There's plenty of cover to go around out there troopers, spread out make yourselves hard targets and when you here the go word through vox cut those rebel bastards down, give a single squelch over vox when you're in position, three teams, three squelches. Let's hop to it." Everyone nodded.

We moved out across the street, abandoned auto-cabs, various booths, and a few traffic dividers gave excellent cover. The enemy, too preoccupied with the distraction team and the Arbitrators, didn't even notice the crimson figures moving into firing-positions not a scant fifteen yards away.

The squelches sounded, Barach and I had been the first, soon followed by two more, and then seemingly with a hint of glee lacing his voice Barrach almost whispered the signal phrase "Gory, gory."

"Helluva way to die." Was heard across the vox, almost simultaneously we all opened fire on the PDF troopers exposed flank. Our lasfire cut into them, their flak-armor doing little to dissipate the furious heat of the lasbeams, training had us concentrate fire, battle-buddies each aiming at the same man. It increased the chance of a kill and made sure the target wouldn't get back up, but then again from our angle the PDF'ers were seemingly grouped together, and as the ones closest fell the ones behind them were exposed.

It was still frightening to me, seeing bodies… move like that. Lasbeams were good at flash-evaporating water, that's what they drilled into our heads during training, Faces disappeared in red, necks seemed to twist around, and limbs cut off at the joints. The lasbeam cauterized the wound for the most part sure, but so much flesh is taken away and so many traumas caused to the body that it usually doesn't save the unlucky target from bleeding out, if they're even still breathing after a direct hit.

Once the PDF'ers finally turned to address us as the new threat they were hopelessly losing, any of them focusing on us wasn't pay attention to the distraction team, or proper cover discipline. They were simply cut to pieces, the last man being thrown back several feet as a huge hole opened up in his chest courtesy of several lasbeams. We stayed in cover for a moment surveying the scene, and then Barach relayed the situation over the vox. "All hostile down Ma'am, meet at your position?"

"Copy Corporal, make your way over, but first make sure those hostiles are all neutralized, over and out," came the reply. Barach nodded to himself, and then motioned for the other two teams to come over to our position.

He turned to Ness and Foss. "You two make sure those PDF'ers aren't getting back up. Then group up with the rest of us once you're done." He paused thoughtfully, "Keep careful troopers, be wary of booby traps. Those buggers might try to take ya with 'em if they've still got their wits about 'em, and a grenade."

"Got it sir," Ness stated.

"Yeah, don't worry so much, they look dead enough to me," Foss replied much more flippantly.

"Just get it done without going splat trooper," Barach said false discontent in his voice. Foss nodded while Ness gave a proper salute, and then the two jogged off toward the bodies. "The rest of us group up with the squad, come on now."

Jogging up the road toward the intersection we made a quick left toward our comrades, Foss and Ness were already checking bodies as we passed. Once our backs were to them I heard a single lasgun fire, followed by silence save for the ambient noise of the battle in the far distance. As we came upon our comrades it was apparent that Sergeant Joss was just starting to make small talk with what seemed the de-facto leader of the three Aribites.

"We are in your debt Guardsmen, thank you. If not for your timely arrival I believe the traitorous scum would have ended us, I am Arbitrator Drustos, and my fellows are Arbitrator Zuriel and cadet Thak," the mane paused motioning to his comrades as he introduced them. "Who do we have to thank for our lives?"

"145th Randon Drop Troopers, Sergeant Joss, my adjutant Barach, and the rest of what's left of my squad," the sergeant responded pleasantly.

"Again you have our thanks,"

"You're welcome, now if you could fill us in on what exactly is going on I would appreciate it. Our vox operator was lost in the crash, obviously we've been suspecting the PDF turing traitor, how bad is the situation exactly, do you have contact with your superiors," the sergeant asked.

The Arbitrator sighed heavily, "From what we've heard approximately three quarters of the PDF has defected to the rebel side, it seems that they had significant advantage during the early stages of their attack; however, as luck would have it your comrades from the other regiments have stopped the PDF attack." He paused.

"I feel bad news coming on…" Anrai commented.

"Anrai stow the pessimism for once," Barach said mildly annoyed.

"Unfortunately your comrade is correct, main Guard forces have managed to stop the PDF attack. Now though it's down to bloody street fighting to retake your foothold on these levels of the hive, we were actually on our way to rendezvous with elements from your comrade regiments, the 125th Hoarfell and the 82nd Death Korps I believe. I had heard that most of the Randon are still awaiting transit to major combat areas."

"Of course, Arbitrator Drustos I feel that it would be in both of our interests to proceed together from here on." Sergeant Joss said.

"Agreed Sergeant, if you have no objections I and my fellows will lead to the way."

"No issue with that Arbitrator, I'll just be glad to have more friendlies around me, as drop troopers we're used to being behind enemy lines, but this day has just been ridiculous so far." A chuckle escaped from the Sergeant's mouth leading to a series of imitations from the rest of the squad, myself included. After what had happened so far the rumbling of my chest from the laugh was very relaxing, the levity of the moment helped a great deal.

It took us about an hour, navigating back alley's, skirting around sizeable amounts of PDF troopers, and going through broken habs, but eventually we found the Hoarfell and Death Korps, and I wish to the Emperor we hadn't.

A/N: Whelp, see you lovely people next week, don't forget to boost my self esteem!

300-709.