A Hero of the Imperium, Guardsman Kline.

From those first moments killing an Ork Nob in single combat after their position had been overrun on his first deployment. To commanding his squad during the fierce jungle fighting that followed routing them at the battle of Epithesus. The thrill of the memories a constant reminder of how he'd earned his position.

To today where he stood as the head of the Governors personal guard, ten men in total each a veteran of a dozen battles standing in formation as the final bulwark to uphold the will of the Emperor on Thraxis Prime. The last line of defence.

Not one step back.

They stood in perfect harmony ever vigilant even as another strategy meeting went on. So far away from the battlefields on which he'd earned his medals. The line would hold, and under his watchful eye that had itself become the problem.

The man he was pledged to serve was the very model of an Imperial Governor. Strong and resolute, unyielding in the face of adversity with an unbreakable will that would last through any horror the world could throw at them. His advanced age pulled back by the work of machinery and medicine alike as he stood in the full peak of human physical condition and outlined the truth once more.

Fort Pyrhass still stood.

It stood as an impenetrable fortress against which the waves of the enemy could only break and break and break once again. The strongest bastion that still stood long after every other base that stood beside it had been long abandoned. A proud fortress jutting out into the Badlands the Orks claimed for themselves.

It stood on the wrong side of the river, at the end of a supply line that was too long. Where every last supply convoy sent to replenish it was wasted and broken on route, where the guns slowly fell silent as ammunition failed to reach them. Once it had been the focal point of a perfect line of defence that stretched from Sumptor to Alatraz. A hundred years ago they had fallen, and now it stood only as a monument to lost glory, the last fortress so far forward.

It should have been abandoned long ago and he knew it. That sending three more brigades to waste themselves on the trek there was just throwing their lives away before they even had a chance to fight.

Not one step back.

The creed spoke once again, for if they walked back that fortress it would be admitting defeat. If they did not spend more lives the Governor would one day have to admit they'd failed to hold even an invincible fortress. Perhaps the Imperium might even seem lesser because of it.

Every day it seemed lesser in his mind, that wasted so many new recruits where a better commander would at least spend them well. Spend them to mean something, where the great machine now only failed them with its promises.

Not one step back.

Next week they would spend three more brigades. Just to hold the lie in place for a week more. Did they know they were going to die so futilely. Or did they join up for real in the belief they would be heroes that could turn back the tide. Was it his name used in the endless tirade of heroes who had gone before that had inspired them to serve?

The orders were given all the same. Three fresh officers never having tasted battle saluting with a look of grim determination as they set themselves. Could they see it? Would they lead their men from the front to die?

"Do your duty on this day, and you will forever be heroes of the Imperium." The parting words echoed in his mind as they were spoken. Ringing out throughout the war room as the Governor, a man he had once respected saluted to those he may as well have shot himself.

He saw red.

Just one step forward.

A movement practiced a thousand times felt more fulfilling than ever, his las rifle falling and firing in a single moment as it carved through the cybernetic spine of the Governor, the second shot evaporated the back of his head as the room stood in shock.

Three pistols were raised as the officers facing him drew.

Nine rifles silenced them before they could even fire as his squad advanced in perfect unity. Spreading out and covering the exits as he looked at the map once more. "Garrick, Varrus, Cayern, there are now three brigades without commanding officers. Take them and start fortifying the west side of the river into a proper killing field."

"Yes sir." The three of them saluted and departed without hesitation.

"Vesta get on the line to tell Fort Pyrhass to prepare for a last ditch retreat with everything they have left. Anor and Reik organise at these two points, make it look like we're going on the offensive and the Orks will pull their troops off for the real fight. Castor, I want a full list of assets in our flying reserve."

The five of them were gone without hesitation, leaving only him and his second in command to gaze over the maps. "Amos we're all gonna get executed for this aren't we."

The man grinned back, a fire in his eyes that had been gone for months slowly rekindling. "Eh can't do worse than the last lot and besides the men will be proud to have a real hero leading them."


AN: Not one step back is a great military soundbite, but terrible in practice. Ground is the cheapest thing you can give on many battlefields. And of course Logistics is always king and holding an area you can barely supply means wasting your troops meaninglessly.

It also makes every retreat a rout, where you lose all your land and all the troops meant to hold it.