Chapter II:

I am Legion

Segmentum unknown; Star System unknown; Date: 045.M42?

Electrical sparks flew across the bridge, the hull whined and moaned painfully, twisted and brutalised after shooting out of Warp travel. Admiral Roza Ravenkin held onto the railing of the command post, a hand pressing against her forehead. She scanned the bridge for any extensive damages and casualties among her bridge staff. She withdrew her hand from her forehead and winced at the sight of her own blood tainting her bare tanned skin.

"Status report!" She requested with an authoritative and commanding voice.

"Our engines are temporarily down, lady admiral…" Replied the ship master, her senior-most Warrant Officer, as he scanned through an array of data that ran through his cogitator screens.

"Hull damage: minimal – Weapons conditions: optimal – Fire reports on lower decks…" Stated autonomously the bridge's Magos, listing off the battle cruiser's conditions. "Reports of daemonic incursions on several ships – current casualties: three thousand; daemonic incursion repelled."

"Vox officer, transmit to all surviving ships of their status report in one hour," The admiral ordered stoically.

"Yes, lady admiral!"

"Magos, where are we exactly?" She asked as the Gellar shields opened, revealing a beautiful verdant world. She could identify four large bodies of landmass, probably continents each separate from each other by vast deep blue oceans.

"Segmemtum: unknown – Planet: unknown – Searching for more data…" The red-robed disciple of the Adeptus Mechanicus replied hesitantly; doing his best to provide the most accurate data possible.

"Vox Officer, contact the navigator, maybe they'll know where the hell we are." The Vox officer nodded quietly, "Ship master, summon General Farestein. I'm sure that our Cadian friends will want answers soon."

Alarms blared throughout the ship as everyone slowly regained their footing and mentality back after a Warp travel. The Gellar field has been lifted and the crews started the maintenance and repair works. Meanwhile, preachers cleansed the ship's hulls and its passengers, chanting and purifying with holy water and essence. Once cleansed, the average imperial guardsman of the Cadian 506th regiment would report to their superiors before going to the armoury to receive their standard-issued lasgun.

Lieutenant Marrek Holmes weaved through the sea of Cadian guardsmen, Imperial Navy voidsmen and servitors while he made his way towards his company's armoury. He stood taller than the average man, along with his impressive physique and scarred face befitting of a Kasrkin stormtrooper made him stick out among his fellow guardsmen. Despite his intimidating stature, he was not feared but rather respected and admired by many. He was well known in his regiment for his stoic bravery and steely determination. He was not one to boast about his exploits however, he is surprisingly a calm and quiet man when off-duty, soft-spoken to his troopers and watched over them like they were his children. A complete contrast once boots on the ground.

Turning right, he gently pushed aside two guardsmen blocking his path and continued down his path. He finally made it to the armoury five minutes later, greeting the rest of this squad, all of whom were waiting in a queue.

His second-in-command, sergeant Eli Pavlo, acknowledged him with a silent nod. "Any news, lieutenant?" He asked curiously, a question that the entire squad wanted to know since the end of the Warp travel an hour ago.

"Nothing, Pavlo," He replied calmly, "The captain doesn't know and so does the commissar."

"I've heard we're lost in the middle of nowhere," Trooper Kholm chuckled while juggling his combat knife in his left hand.

"We're in space, Kholm, so of course we're in the middle of nowhere," Hekler replied sarcastically before catching his combat knife mid-air, "And quit playing with your knife, you'll slice your palm again,"

The trooper hastily took his knife back and pouted, "That happened one time! One!" He lifted an index for emphasis.

"That's still one too many, Kholm," Trooper Mattias said while grabbing his hot-shot lasgun from the armoury's servitors.

"Anyways," The lieutenant interrupted their playful banter, "Once you retrieve your weapons, suit up and await by hangar Beta-8. The tops will surely send in a scouting party on the nearest planet they see."

"Yes sir." The rest of the squad replied nonchalantly.

"And have faith in the Navy, they don't simply "get lost". We'll know where we are soon enough." Pavlo added confidently.

"We're completely lost, general," Admiral Ravenkin stated as a matter-of-fact, "Our navigators can't make heads or tails on where we are, which sector or even if we have jumped back in time,"

General Farestein stared at the admiral with bewildered eyes and turned to point at the planet that was in full view in front of the vessel, "Then what the Hell is this?" He asked sarcastically, "How can we be lost when there's a planet right in front of our eyes, admiral? Can't we simply establish contact?"

"General," Ravenkin sighed in annoyance, "If we could hail the planet then we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. See for yourself on the hologram," She pointed at the holomap displayed before them.

The holomap showed the planet in a green tint with an information index popping up next to it with empty text. Every information needed to categorize a world was empty, no population count, no world affiliation or type, no signal… nothing.

"We can only guess that it must be some type of feudal or feral world at best, maybe even a paradise world," She continued calmly, "We've been trying to establish a vox channel, but it is futile. We can also observe that there no space ports or space elevators indicating that it might be a resupply point. The only observation we can make is that there are oceans, continents and it isn't raining acid or-"

"Lady admiral," The ship master announced his presence and bowed respectfully at the high-ranking officers, "Results from the deep scans," He presented a data slate and took a step back after she grabbed it.

Ravenkin read through the scan reports from her vessel as well as the other vessels from their scattered battlegroup. Her face decomposed from stoic calm to a surprised curiosity and confusion. She turned to the ship master with a raised eyebrow.

"Are those reports accurate, ship master?"

"Yes, lady admiral," He replied with a head bow.

"Is there a development to our situation, admiral?" Farestein asked with his arms crossed over his chest.

"It seems that there are signs of life on the planet, general," The admiral replied while continuing her reading, "It is possible that we've discovered a civilised world… visual confirmation of cities and villages as well as minor seismic events…"

"Minor seismic events? Care to clarify, admiral?"

"Here," She handed to him the data slate, "Whatever it might be, it contributes to another interesting development, general,"

General Farestein read through the reports, his curiosity growing before his eyes went wide open, re-reading the last lines of data for assurance.

"Visual battle scarring? Does that mean…"

"Yes, there's an ongoing conflict on the surface, general. Against whom or what, only the God-Emperor knows, but if the local population is advanced enough to build cities and go to war, then we might have the answers we desperately need. Unfortunately, deep scans won't be enough, we need boots on the ground to gather more intel. Do you understand, general?"

Farestein nodded concededly and turned back to the planet, "Clearly, admiral. I'll have reconnaissance teams ready in twenty-four hours. Hopefully, we'll have our answers and rejoin the rest of our battlegroup for Vigilus."

Republic of San Magnolia's Eastern Front, Legion controlled territory, May 29th SY 2148

"Dullahan, anomaly report from high command – Anomaly origin: unknown – Anomaly location: unknown – Anomaly attitude: unknown – Action to take: Resume normal operations; proceed with caution and report on any anomaly. No Face, out."

Plumes of smoke arose from the destroyed drones of the Legion and shell craters from the recent battle. The ruins were torn apart by explosions and bullets, the weaker structures plummeted in a heap of concrete, ash and twisted rebar. Trees and shrubberies from long abandoned parks were burnt and covered in dust and ash. Near the city centre, over two dozen four-legged war machines, designated M1A4 Juggernauts by the Republic of San Magnolia, were spread about as they pursued their fleeing enemy.

The Juggernauts of Spearhead squadron soon halted in their advance as they observed the retreating Legion forces. It was another routine mission like any other for the Eighty-Six "processors", a successful mission with their new handler in command.

Theo stretched his arms up inside his Juggernaut, feeling the muscles pop in his arms and shoulders. "There goes the Legion again… Man, you would think that maybe they would start thinking about surrendering," He joked sarcastically.

"Heh, why don't you suggest that to the Albas, maybe they could reason with them," Raiden replied humorously.

As the rest of the squadron stood by and took advantage of the lull in the fighting to relax and chat, Shin continued his silent monitor of the battlefield, glancing over the destroyed Legion carcasses his fellow Eighty-Six left behind. The Legion was getting more aggressive recently, more agitated and getting bolder by launching night raids now. He could still hear the voices of the damned, the echoes of their victims' last words haunting his nights. However, one voice spoke louder than others, a voice filled with malice and fury directed solely at him and it was getting closer.

"Shiiiiin!" The hollow voice called out in the distance.

A cold shiver ran down Shin's neck followed by a small rush of adrenaline. Their meeting would be soon. He could feel it in his bones, the anticipation to end his personal quest before leaving this damned world behind.

He steeled him and breathed out slowly. He was still far away; he'll have more time to mentally prepare for that fateful day. For now, he needs to send his Juggernaut for repairs… again. The old man won't like it, but it wouldn't be the first time that he'll receive an ass chewing from him, nor would be the last time.

"Shin? Should we head back?" Raiden's question spurred him out of his trance.

"Yeah, they won't be returning so we'll have a calm evening. Let's return to base." He instructed stoically.

"Right, you heard him, back to base!" His second-in-command relayed his order, and the others promptly turned their war machines for the long-awaited trek back to base.

Shin turned his machine around but stayed for a few seconds, opening the canopy to gaze at the clear starry sky for a moment. The serene breeze caressed his pale features and jet-black mess of hair. His sky-blue scarf worn around his neck fluttered with the wind. For some reason, it seemed that the stars shined brighter than usual, it soothed his soul.

Closing the canopy, Shin returned his attention back to his squadron, following them while still having the wails of the dead crying out to him.

"I am Legion, for we are many..." He mumbled impassively.

Colonel Frazyer, the commanding officer of the Cadian 501st, stood on top of a Chimera to address the guardsmen that were about to embark on the reconnaissance operation. Nominated for this mission into an uncharted planet were the veterans of First Company and a Sentinel squadron from Sixth Company. First Company was the regiment's elites, made up exclusively of Kasrkin stormtroopers and veteran guardsmen, they also acted as the regiment's heavy infantry and primary reconnaissance force.

These men and women were the best of the best, having fought in numerous campaigns, from the reconquering of Lorn V, the fall of Cadia, the battle of Faith's Anchorage to the purging of Potence and Atoma Prime among others. They have fought and killed all of the Emperor's enemies over the course of a century: from heretical Chaos Space Marines, Daemons and cults to xenos such as the brutish Orks, the wicked Eldar, the fearsome Necrons and just recently Tyranids and Genestealer cults.

"Listen up!" Colonel Frazyer's voice boomed with authority and respect. He was an old man, probably past a century but he did not let his senior years break him. He was tall and well built. He was completely bald and sported a well-groomed ash grey moustache. The left half of his face bore a gruesome burn scar as well as his left arm was replaced by a cybernetic prothesis.

"It is with great honour to send you all to battle for the Immortal Emperor. However, I must remind you all that this is a recon operation. Our friends in the Navy can't make heads or tails to where we are so it is up to us, the proud Cadians of the 501st, to search for intel and dig up some answers." He paused to make sure that they were still listening to him.

"Latest reports state that the planet is a civilised world and so, vox comms may be poor or non-existent. Reports have also stated that there were signs of battle scarring on the surface which means that we might be landing deep in enemy territory so be on your guard! If possible, report any findings and return here alive. Hopefully, we'll be back with the rest of our battlegroup to Vigilus and fight in the Emperor's name. The Emperor protects and Cadia stands!"

"Cadia stands!" They all replied enthusiastically before spreading out to their assigned Valkyrie transports.

Holmes' squad, callsign Spartan 1, embarked on their transport, greeting the crewmembers of the aircraft with a simple nod or a fist pump since they frequently worked together. The hangar bay doors opened; alarms blared while red lights enveloped the bay. One by one, the Valkyries started their engines and hovered before flying out of the vessel and toward the planet's atmosphere.

The recon task force is to be deployed in, what appears to be, an abandoned city. Each platoon would then spread out from the drop off point in a five-kilometre radius while the scout Sentinels would venture out an additional three kilometres. If possible, they would make contact with the local population. If they encounter any hostile forces, they will respond in kind before being extracted at the drop point.

The secondary objective is to establish a forward operating base and to continue to expand if the need arises.

The problem with this operation is the logistics. Since vox communications will be limited and with no sign of Imperial authority on the planet, the ground forces will rely on the Valkyries to provide resupply, reinforcements, medical evacuation and close air support. It takes about twenty minutes for the assault carriers to reach planet side and they could stay for about fifteen minutes before needing to refuel at the vessels. Meaning that in the absence of Valkyries in the air, the ground forces must fend off for themselves for forty minutes. A risk factor that everyone understood.

Katra, one of the squad's special weapons gunners, laid her head against the Valkyrie's interior hull and closed her eyes, her plasma gun nestled between her legs while the occasional stirring from the aircraft lulled her to a small nap.

Most of the men in her squad relaxed or idly chattered, they were used to these sorts of missions and while being frequently deployed to dangerous operations, they catch as many rests time as possible, better to die for the Emperor feeling refreshed rather than already dead.

"Entering atmosphere," The flight lieutenant announced coolly, followed by a violent tremble that shook most of the Kasrkins awake. "Arriving to drop off point, ETA: five minutes."

"Five minutes! Check your gear and game faces on, troopers!" Pavlo stated ruggedly.

Suddenly, through their vox micro beads, the Kasrkins could hear pained moaning and faint destressed voices, startling them.

"Help me!"

"It burns! Mama, it burns!"

"Wait wait! Nooo!"

"No please! I don't want to die!"

"Shin!"

Then the voices have stopped as swiftly as they've appeared. The Cadians looked at each other with growing confusion. Even the Navy crewmembers were dumbfounded as they check their vox comms with each other.

"What the hell was that?" Gunther voiced their question.

"Probably vox interferences," Holmes explained assuredly, "Remember, there are battle scarring on the surface so we might be dropping in the middle of a warzone, stay sharp and stay frosty. Clear?"

"Clear, sir!" They replied confidently.

Despite his reassuring words, neither Holmes nor Pavlo knew what those interferences were. It was nothing like the vox broadcasts from Chaos cultist who, depending on the Ruinous gods they worship, would taunt the Imperial Guard forces with screams of their victims, wails of the damned or threats of slicing their throats and bathing in their blood or something along those lines. The Khorne worshippers do have a creative and graphic imagination when declaring their love for the Chaos god and the horrible deeds they would enact to any guardsmen they would encounter. Too bad they would be dead before they could reach him or his squad.

"One minute!" The pilot stated before the interior lights turned green. They felt the aircraft shaking abruptly as it sped towards its destination before slowing down and hovering in place, making its descent.

"By the Emperor… this place's a wreck…"

"Damn it, Jenniah, what did I tell you about spoiling the fun?" Holmes said jokingly. He stood up from his seat and motioned his squad to followed suit. They readily complied, unbuckling their seatbelts and faced the rear ramp, anticipating the impact of the aircraft landing.

The Valkyrie shook upon landing, its rear ramp dropped open, prompting the Kasrkin squad to run out and spread out, forming a defensive perimeter around the aircraft. The strong gust of wind and cloud of dust reduced their visibility significantly even through their advanced visor in their carapace helmet.

"This is Wyvern 6, strike team deployed, moving to overwatch position. Good luck out there Spartan 1, the Emperor protects."

"You too, Jenniah." Holmes replied in an uncharacteristically softer tone.

The other Valkyries were dropping off the rest of the company. First to fourth platoons were equipped in Cadian-patterned carapace armour while fifth and sixth platoons were in regular Cadian flak armour, modified to the wearer's role and liking. Unlike the Kasrkins, they were armed with a lighter variant of the humble lasgun, the Kantrael MG IV carbine trades accuracy and punch for a higher rate of fire and larger ammunition capacity, it has an automatic fire mode, effective against light armoured targets and mobs of fleshy hostiles.

Finally, the Scout Sentinels were dropped off by Sky Talons, a heavy cargo variant of the Valkyrie. Once the bipedal combat walkers were on the ground, they started to spread out towards their assigned reconnaissance sector into teams of three. The troops on the ground did the same, separating and combing their sectors into squads of ten guardsmen.

Unbeknownst to them, they were already spotted by a scout unit, relaying their movement and numbers to their superiors before stealthily extracting out of their way.

Trooper Kerns gently pushed the wooden door open, his hot-shot lasgun brought up as he scanned the building's hallway. He could tell that the structure had been abandoned for well over a decade, the layer of dust was thick while the wallpaper withered and peeled itself off. Despite this, he found it odd to see a building that was completely untouched by war, a true rarity in this dark and grim galaxy.

The other Kasrkin stormtroopers did the same, each clearing and scanning a building on their own, finding nothing but abandoned buildings or crumbling ruins. There were obvious signs of a battle in this city, yet they haven't found a single body, not even a piece of bone. It was as if the corpses simply vanished, the deceased were cleaned up and left without a trace, not even blood stains.

Katra felt, for the first time in years, uneasy by the serene silence and absence of corpses and she wasn't the only one who felt that way. She could notice a slight unnerving twitch and agitation by her fellow squad mates. They were on edge, expecting an ambush at any time, a battle cry, a horde of deranged cultists jumping out of nowhere or an enemy sniper taking his first shot.

But there was nothing, and as they continued their scouting mission, they were getting laxed, it seemed obvious to them that this city was abandoned with certainty.

Lieutenant Holmes raised his left fist up, signalling his squad to halt and take cover. "Gelt, on me." He instructed calmly. The squad's vox operator jogged towards him and took a knee beside him. "Contact Manticore, report him that our sector is clear, no life signs spotted."

Trooper Gelt nodded obediently, "Manticore, this is Spartan 1-5, come in." He hailed as per protocol. There was only static white noise on his end. He tried again, speaking louder. No response. He grumbled under his breath and adjusted his vox transmitter before trying to hail his company commander a third time. Still the same static white noise in response.

"Can't hail him, boss. I'm getting a lot of interference,"

"Well, they did warn us about vox comms not working properly in the briefing," Pavlo shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe-"

"Help us!"

A ghastly voice echoed through Gelt's vox transmitter, startling him and the sergeant. The lieutenant only stared at him curiously.

"That was clear as day," He noted, "Try contacting it,"

Gelt nodded, "This is Spartan 1-5, does any station copy?"

"Mommy! Mommy!" Came the voice of a scared little girl.

"Help me! Help me!"

"Natacha!"

"It burns! God help me, it burns!"

The voices were a twisted mixture of agony, sadness and distress, varying from a child to a woman to an elderly man, each voice crying out for help or screaming in pain. The other members of the squad were hearing it as well, jumping out and pointed their weapons at their sector of fire, expecting an ambush.

Holmes turned to corporal Graff, his recon specialist. "Graff, see anything on the auspex?"

Graff took out his auspex scanner, a handheld multi-scanner device able to detect movement, sound ambience, invisible gases and energy emissions such as heat or radiation. He tuned the auspex to scan to a wider perimeter.

"Contacts spotted," He reported collectively, "Large signals, over two dozen and moving fast on our position. They could be light armoured vehicles. ETA, one minute, boss,"

"Copy that, Pavlo, take team 2 and occupy that building, get to high ground. Team 1 on me. Graff, set up a decoy in the middle of the street, we'll let them pass through. On my signal, we'll engage them if possible. Switch your vox comms to short ranges only. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!" They replied obediently.

"Finally, action!" Katra muttered under her breath while she followed the lieutenant into a building. They set up their firing line on the second floor, ducking under the shattered windows.

Graff placed a small audio recorder on the street and hid it under a rubble. He set the volume high enough to be heard by the approaching hostile force. The recorder was a simple of audio of guardsmen barking orders and stomping boots meant to replicate the sounds of an active guard platoon.

The Kasrkins waited patiently as the recorder's sounds were drowned out by mechanical whirs and impacts. The ground trembled and dust fell on top of them. Seconds later, their unknown foes as finally showed their faces… if they had one.

To their surprise, there were no conventional vehicles in sight but a pack of six-legged walker machines. The machines were grey-ish or white coloured with a streamlined body that resembled that of an insect. Two members protruded forward like antennas but due to their length and size, they look more like ranged weapons.

There were no visible signs of a pilot in those war machine, Holmes assumed that they must be unmanned yet they moved like living insects, they were different from the Necron scarabs he encountered on a campaign on Lorn V.

The machines were quite tall, about three or four metres tall and five or six metres in hull length. But that was all the assessment he could make with his own eyes, he didn't know their combat capabilities, the thickness of their armour, the power of their weapons. He hoped that his squad's hot-shot lasguns were enough to wipe them out in a single volley.

"Get ready." He whispered through his comms.

The Kasrkins braced for the upcoming fight, each aimed at a war machine, their index on the trigger and waiting for the squad leader's order. Holmes breathed out and swiftly aimed his hot-shot laspistol at the nearest machine, letting loose a hellfire of powerful laser beams. On the signal, the Cadian stormtroopers opened fire, a volley of laser fire rained upon the drones, and they were quickly dispatched. Their armour stood no chance against the concentrated beams of energy that punched through their hull and circuitry.

Relieved and inspired by their first successful volley, the Cadians pressed their attacks, showering the remaining drones with Imperial Guard hospitality. The remnants returned fire, the roars of autoguns were drowned by the fury of the hot-shot lasguns. Bullets flew past the windows, some hitting the Kasrkins but they continued unflinchingly. The rounds maybe be larger than expected but were still not enough to penetrate the sturdier and more advanced carapace armour of the stormtroopers.

Katra ignored a bullet bouncing off her carapace left pauldron, feeling only a tinge of numbing by the impact and responded in kind with a burst of plasma bolts that smashed the drone's armour like it was made of paper. Her targets went up in flames and some even exploded caused by a chain reaction from their ammunitions rack, crippling others near them.

The last enemy drone staggered on its legs before giving in its own weight, crashing and fuming from the numerous laser holes scattered all over its hull, leaking fuel and sparks erupting throughout its carcass.

The Cadians held their weapons up, expecting a second wave. Moments later, there were no further enemy presence.

Kholm rested his hot-shot lasgun on his right shoulder, exanimating the destruction that fell upon their newfound enemy. "Huh, well that was easier than expected. Felt almost bad for them. Almost." He commented nonchalantly. He turned to Katra on his left. "So… who do you think we're up against? Necrons? Eldars? Hereteks?"

"I don't know," She replied frankly, "I never seen anything like it. It is certainly not xenos tech since they fire conventional bullets, but they aren't Chaos war machines since there's a complete lack of spikey bits and skulls and blood…" She noted pensively.

"Well, whatever they are, they're now part of the honorary list of "kill it in the Emperor's name"!" Gunther chuckled wickedly.

"True, true," Kholm agreed and turned to their squad leader, "Boss, what do you think?"

Holmes quietly observed the destroyed cadavers thoughtfully, as if trying to figure out the war machines' functions. Without another word, he started for the staircase.

"Squad on me, keep your eyes open, there could be more." He instructed impassively.

Kholm looked at the officer in disbelief, "Oookay, fun time is over I guess," He noted before joining the rest of the squad on the street.

"Have you seen anything like it, sir?" Pavlo asked Holmes as soon as they regrouped.

The lieutenant shook his head, still staring at the drones that laid haphazardly on the street. "I know as much as you do, Pavlo, but we must keep our guard up and fall back to the drop site. The others will soon encounter these things…" As if on cue, rapid autogun fire and explosions echoed across the city.

"We need to move fast. Our air support just flew back for refuelling so we're on our own for forty minutes." Pavlo nodded and ordered the squad to start moving back to their drop off point. Holmes faced Gelt, "Try to contact anyone and tell them to regroup at the drop site."

"Sir!" Gelt complied with a nod.

The Kasrkin squad jogged back to their drop site, the echoes of firefights getting louder as they approached their goal. Suddenly they fell on another squad of Kasrkins from an adjacent street, forming a firing line as they hosed down a wave of enemy drones.

"Holmes!" The squad leader of Spartan 4, lieutenant Sergeï, hailed with a wave, "Are you seeing these things?" He asked curiously.

With a hand signal, Holmes ordered his squad to reinforce their fellow Cadians and added more firepower, quickly repelling the enemy wave. Only a single stormtrooper was injured, a stray bullet hit his left hand.

"Damn it, that was my writing hand," The injured Kasrkin complained will applying a gauze around his hand.

"Wait? Since when you're left-handed?" Another Kasrkin piped up.

"Since when did I say I was left-handed?" He replied quizzically.

"The street looks clear, we must head back to the drop site," Holmes informed Sergeï as a matter-of-fact, "We'll have a better line of sight and force them to close in on us,"

"Way ahead of you, friend," Sergeï replied with a grin behind his carapace helmet, "All right, Spartan 4! On me!"

Little by little, other squads regrouped at the drop site, establishing and fortifying their position while fending off wave after wave of enemy drones. While First company managed to regroup to full strength, there were still no sign from the scouts of Sixth company.

The Cadians held their ground, pouring out fury and concentrated hellfire upon the enemy, making short work of their light armour. Despite their superior numbers, the drones couldn't outgun the Cadians, their bullets did little against their carapace armour, shrugging off most of their hits. The lighter armoured guardsmen set up their positions on higher grounds, laying down accurate sniper fire and sent out barrages of krak and frag rounds from their grenade launchers.

The destroyed carcasses piled up on the streets and despite their staggering losses, the enemy seemed undeterred and unrelenting, climbing over their dead or shoving aside if necessary. Slowly, the Cadians were taking casualties ranging from minor injuries to critical wounded.

Then the enemy force fired a series of rockets across their perimeter. A burst of rockets slammed into a building that had a team of veteran guardsmen, they were instantly killed in the blasts. The rocket fire ripped their defensive line, sending his troops into disarray and forcing them to spread out into smaller, isolated and more manageable groups.

Captain Parris calmly observed the battlefield, trying to pinpoint the origins of the rocket barrages. He then spotted a couple of drones, much larger than the ones he just faced, hanging vertically on tall ruins or running rapidly and jumping agilely across rooftops. These drones seemed to fire their barrage of rockets before speeding towards his men, as if charging for close combat.

"Shit! Priority target on those drones!" He hollered sternly while pointing his Bolt pistol at them, firing in response.

One of the drones landed on the same rooftop as a squad of Kasrkin. Despite its larger frame, it was surprisingly fast and agile, swinging its two blades across the rooftop and slicing the stormtroopers with ease. Showers of blood drenched over its pure white frame.

"Don't let them close! Don't engage in close combat!" He yelled as he eliminated two drones with pinpoint accuracy from his Bolt pistol. The Bolt rounds had a more devastating destructive power on the enemy war machines, easily destroying them with a single shot.

"Hekler, on your right!" Gunther warned as he let off a sweeping salvo from his hot-shot volley gun at two incoming drones.

Katra noticed the two skidding drones. They had multiple rocket launchers mounted on their backs while also equipped with two long and razor-sharp blades on their forelegs. She fired a burst of plasma bolts, managing to smash one to pieces while the other crashed unceremoniously by her and Gunther. It recovered quickly and lunged its blades at her. She swiftly rolled out of the way, landing painfully on her side and quickly rolled on her back, the plasma gun pointed directly at the beast's underbelly. She fired a two-bolt burst of plasma, the intense heat and energy bore through its hull and molten slabs of metal rained from its grievous wounds. The war machine stumbled, weakened by the devastating blows. In a last determined and dying effort, it raised one of its forelegs to crush the puny human below it.

Seeing this, Katra pushed to her feet and jumped out of the way, a second later, the segmented foot of the machine slammed through the concrete ground, leaving a gaping hole and deep cracks forming around it.

Both Gunther and Katra stared at it warily, their weapons raised in case it had more fighting spirit.

"That was close," Gunther commented casually.

Another rocket detonated into a building, taking four more Cadians to oblivion. The ruin weakened by the ongoing firefight, gave up and crashed under its own weight, washing First company in a thick cloud of dust and ash.

In the dust cloud, Captain Parris could distinctively hear a mechanical growl rumbling behind him. He expertly dodged under a swiping blade meant to decapitate him and riposted with his own swing from his power sword. The powered blade easily cut through the drone's foreleg, destabilizing its bearing. He brought his Bolt pistol up and fired at point blank range at its "head", instantly eliminating the threat.

Parris glowered and spat at the abomination, its mere sight now disgusted him, offended that it dared to cleave his head off. He changed the magazine for his Bolt pistol and fired a round into a drone that tried to sneak up on a squad of veterans.

"Hold the line! Cadia stands!" He hollered coarsely.

"Cadia stands!" His guardsmen replied with determination and fervour.

Abruptly, a distant roar of cannons erupted through the battlefield. A swathe of drones was destroyed with accurate fire. The close combat drones were suddenly eliminated by autogun fire coming from behind them. The rounds ripped through the enemy armour, sparks and fuel flew out of the wounds as they piled on top of their dead.

A large zoomed past Holmes' head as another drone type appeared. This one was much lengthier and had a lighter frame. It bore a whitish-brown colouring, resembled a prowling spider with its four segmented legs and large cannon on its back. It also sported two blades that protruded directly from its hull. The hull was rounder and smaller than the ones he just encountered, and it had a glowing red eye.

Without skipping a beat, the new drone bounced off and continued its onslaught of the enemy drones, firing its coaxial autoguns and cannon while slicing through a wave of targets. It moved with such speed and agility that was impressive to the Cadian. He had never seen such a large machine move with such ease and flow. This was either a living creature or one hell of a drone pilot.

He spotted more drones of this kind jumping across the rooftops, laying down cover fire for the lone close combat war machine. Others charged with him, autoguns blazing through the enemy ranks.

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire!" Parris ordered and eyed cautiously the new drones that interjected in his battlefield, "Keep your guard up, we don't know what these things are."

The Cadians watched with awe and curiosity at these new war machines. They seemed more fragile and clunkier than the enemy drones yet moved with masterful skills and dexterity, coordinating their combined arms with disciplined and accurate fire.

A mere minute later, the slaughter ended, the remaining enemy force pulled their dead and retreated out of the city. The Cadians remained in their position, weapons drawn at the new arrivals. There were two dozen of them, perched around them and curiously staring at them, their large cannons pointed at the Imperial Guard forces.

There was a tense and silent minute before one of the drones walked up to Parris, who stood in the middle of the street with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting patiently for one of them to step forward.

The war machine stopped about five meters away from him, its lifeless glowing red eye staring back at him.

"State your name, rank and unit." The machine coldly demanded.

Taken aback by such a direct and impassive inquiry, the commanding officer obliged nonetheless, empathic with the machine's caution.

"I am Captain Parris, commanding officer of First Company, Cadian 501st Regiment of the Astra Militarum." There was a heavy silence that fell on the machine and its brethren, he could feel like they were shocked by his statement. "And to whom do I owe the honour to speak with?"

There was another pause, the machine's voice hesitant for a split second, "I'm Captain Shinei Nouzen, commanding the Spearhead Squadron from the Republic of San Magnolia. If you could excuse my brash inquiry but… in which part of the world is Cadia?"

The Cadians were either in stunned silence or laughed dryly, amused by the machine's ignorance of their reputation. Even Captain Parris had to hold back a sarcastic grin.

"It may seem obvious, Captain Nouzen, that we are not from here nor from this world. Cadia was our home world, located at the Eye of Terror in Segmentum Obscurus." He informed him, "Our vessels were lost during a Warp jump, and we've arrived at your planet. The rest of my regiment are still up there, in space." He added by pointing at the sky. The drones physically looked up, earning a round of stifled chuckles from the Cadians.

"Wait?" One of the other drones spoke up with a younger voice, "You're saying you're from outer space, like a whole freaking planet?" He asked with growing and excited curiosity.

"To make it short, yes. We are from, as you say it, a whole freaking planet," Parris conceded reluctantly.

Suddenly, the drones' leader hissed, prompting the men to draw their weapons up. Parris turned to Captain Nouzen and watched as the drone's canopy pulled upwards, revealing a cockpit and its pilot. A human pilot, a slender teenage boy dressed in a desert uniform, a sky-blue scarf around his neck. He had a pale feature with bloodred eyes and jet-black hair. Yet, despite his age, Captain Parris could see with his deep purple eyes that this boy had fought for his life from a very young age, he must've seen things that haunts him to this day. This captain Nouzen had the eyes of a hardened and skilled veteran.

Nouzen unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped off his Juggernaut. He calmly walked up to Captain Parris and stretched his right hand out.

"Welcome to the Eighty Sixth district, captain Parris."

Author's Note: Salut, kind of a different work than usual but that doesn't mean that I'll stop writing for the "Digital Crisis" series, I've just hit a writer's block and was more inspired to write this story. There might be a third or fourth chapter on the way before I'm going on a hiatus. Any review is welcomed and helpful and if you want to see more than just holler I guess... As always à la prochaine! And Cadia Stands!