The rebel forces of Haikk, supported by a Baneblade, the pinnacle of Imperial ground might, begin their assault on a desert oasis. Their orders say it possibly holds a force of Xenos that have wreaked havoc on their supply lines.

But even with this advantage, they face an enemy they have never seen, or know how to really oppose. Their only tactics and information are entirely made of propaganda and half-truths at best, and now they will have to fight a battle they were never trained for, and their training is already bare-bones...

"I just don't get it. Aren't we a bit overkill?"

PFC Delray sat at his post, next to the massive Demolisher cannon aboard Standard Bearer, one of the Baneblades the rebellious forces on Haikk had in their arsenal. By sheer stroke of luck and Munitorum transportation incompetence, a squadron of these vital and massive steel behemoths had been taken by the PDF in the first days of the rebellion.

"Overkill?" PTC Figeroa queried over the tanks comm net.

"So let's say that there is a Xenos force out here in that oasis. I highly doubt they could hide anything that could knock out a Chimera, let alone a Leman Russ or Standard Bearer. Why are we out in this Emperor-forsaken hellhole and not back defending the Port?"

"Because," 1LT DeVries answered with more than a hint of irritation, "General Smits doesn't want us to take any chances. We could be stumbling on a force that single handedly wiped out two convoys in a single hour. Doesn't that tell you they mean business?"

"Yes, but from what I heard, they didn't destroy any of the trucks with anti-vehicle weapons."

"They're Xenos, PFC. What do you know about their weapons? Their abilities? You know anything we don't?" And before you ask why we're going into the oasis, our intelligence assessments have determined that it is the closest reasonable place to launch an attack of this size."

"Or we could be heading into a nice sand filled pool with some grass and trees."

"I sure as hell hope so Delray. I heard from some of the older vets in the Army, the ones who came back from their time in the Guard, and you shouldn't believe the bullshit in the Primer. If they are the kind we think are out there, they're fast, efficient, and will get hits on you before you even see them. Honestly, we should have brought some Basilisks."

"Too bad they drink Promethium worse than we do," Figeroa said.

"Correct. Hopefully if the foot-sloggers hit anything, we can give them support with the Demolisher."

"What's the plan again sir?" came the raspy voice of Corporal Zara, operator of the main gun, the powerful Mega cannon in the topmost turret.

"Fuck's sake Zara, it's a miracle you can remember targets given your shit memory. All right, listen up everyone, not just Zara has to be reminded I bet."

The ten man crew, operating in various capacities the cannons, bolters, and in the case of the one red-robed Engineseer who maintained of the entirety of the Baneblade and its systems, fell silent.

"We still have no idea about what the oasis situation is like. Therefore, we are sending infantry in to scout it out. If they find nothing, we get back on the road and head back to port. If they make contact, we wait. They're footsloggers, and they're expendable compared to a Baneblade, so if its bad, tough shit for them. If they really need help, we roll in and save the day."

"That's the plan?" Delray said, trying to hide his contempt for the intense risk their commanders through their own men into.

"Yes, and if you don't like it, complain to the guy with stars on his shoulders."

General Smits, who did in fact have two stars on his uniform shoulders, had devised the plan in accordance with Imperial Guard tactics, with some minor tweaks given the lack of resources that a single planet could provide versus the full might of the Imperium. Having been a veteran who actually returned, despite his flaws and less than stellar tactical accumen, he was the most experienced and professional officer Haikk had.

"Smits isn't the type to just throw men away like that. That sounds more like a Santelo plan."

"We have no idea what we are getting into, gunner, but I can't say you're wrong. Hopefully nothing is in that oasis and we can get back to sitting around, driving once in a while, and looking threatening enough that no idiot attacks the port."

"And hit Pier Seven and a Half soon after. We're dragging you there Figeroa, whether you like it or not. Till then, you're not a real part of the crew," Zara rasped.

Figeroa, the tertiary loader of the crew, a rather useless post that made him essentially the auxiliary should another crewman fall in combat, was the newest and youngest member. He blushed at the comment, knowing Seven and a Half, fittingly between the sixth and seventh piers of Kaol-Daissar, was an infamous bordello haunted by the shipcrews and defenders there.

"I-I don't-"

"Can it you two. Shows about to start. Enginseer?"

The red-robed figure next to the commander, his face still mostly flesh except for his lower jaw, nodded.

"All communications equipment is operating to full capacity."

Though technically heretics given the rebellion, the local members of the Adeptus Mechanicus were still considered fully-fledged members of their order, to be captured and protected by the Imperial invaders through a variety of confusing legal and political loopholes.

"Sariah?"

2LT Sariah, tactical officer in charge of the auspex and augury sensors that identified obstacles and enemies, along with being second-in-command, nodded as well. He tapped on the arm of his chair, listening to the comms as the Chimeras deployed the first scouts.

"Jax, engines ready?"

The driver grunted over the vox in confirmation.

"Good. Quiet on comms in case everything goes to hell."

Nine affirmations followed.

XXXXXX

Over the dunes Standard Bearer sat behind, a ten man squad slowly moved through what seemed like a valley, the green foliage of the oasis at the end, almost beckoning them. The theory was a night attack would protect the troops and catch the enemy unaware, so under cover of darkness, they advanced.

"Sarge, we're good to go. All armor is ready to move if we hit any problems."

"Good work corporal. Voxman! Get next to me!"

A man with a Lascarbine and a massive pack on his back jogged over next to him, his face wracked with anxiety.

"You all right?"

"No sergeant, I'm not."

"C'mon, what are you afraid of? The Primer tells you all you need to know about Xenos. And if they're Eldar, what, weak already with easily breakable weapons. Nothing to fear."

"Sarge, they wiped out two convoys. Van Graff said-"

"Van Graff was obviously too traumatized to give an accurate report. Anything he said was probably his imagination. It's lucky he survived and he deserved those medals and a promotion, but he was put in a bad situation. You would be a little rattled if you were in his shoes."

"I'm rattled just doing this."

"Relax. We're already halfway there. Keep watch on those dunetops!"

The squad continued forward, weapons at the ready, moving at a slow, but steady, pace.

"Whoa!" one of the men on the flank yelled out, sending the others into a panic and swinging their Lasguns in his direction.

"What did you see?" the sergeant asked.

"Sorry. I could have sworn I saw something on the right. On the ground."

"We're wigging ourselves out," another said.

"Calm down boys, we're almost there. Hell, if we find nothing, we'll all take a nice bath in that pool over there."

"Sarge, armors asking if we need support."

"Tell them to hold off for now."

"Roger."

The vox operator clicked his handset and updated their support.

"They're standing by."

"Good. Just a bit further and-"

He felt something warm splash on the back of his neck. He let go of the front of his Lasgun and felt it. To his horror, his palm was splattered with red, warm blood. He quickly turned his head to see the vox operator with a new hole through his forehead, face frozen in shock before toppling over. The rest of the squad only had a moment before they fell, the sergeant about to scream orders before three shuriken's tore through his chest.

The first scout squad was wiped out in three seconds.

XXXXXX

"So then I tell her that I paid for it, so why don't you stick it up?"

"Paol, that's fucking disgusting."

"Well if you pay a whore that much, you get your money's worth, right Delray?"

"If it wasn't for the fact that the Demolisher needed a loader, I would hope to never be stuck near you."

"Whatever. Maybe if you got down to Seven and A Half, we could pay one of the girls to pull that stick out of your ass."

With a derisive snort, Delray sank back in his chair. At first, the crew of Standard Bearer were nervous, but having waited for what was nearly an hour in silence, adrenaline waned and turned to crippling boredom. Even lieutenant DeVries was starting to doze off. He slumped forward in his seat, jumping as he realized what he was doing.

"Shit," he said sitting up. "Sariah, anything?"

"Still waiting on reports from the first scout squads."

"Even the guys on the other side of the oasis?"

"Nothing."

"That's odd."

"Maybe they've found nothing to report."

"You'd have thought they called in. Are they sending another squad in?"

"They're thinking about it."

"I'm gonna pull rank and tell them to get a move on. Get me on main net.:

With the agreement of the infantry commanders, another set of scouts moved forward, one of them with a Chimera. As they moved out, the rest of the Baneblade crew continued to kill time.

"Enginseer, where did you put the goddamn rice cooker?" Zara grunted.

"It is stored at the rear, near the engines, where it is supposed to be stored per the creed of the Mechani-"

"I wanted to know where the cooker was, not a fucking sermon."

"Very well."

DeVries felt a sudden thrust on his shoulder.

"What?"

"Sir," Sariah whispered, "You were snoring."

"Shit, how long was I out?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Any update from the scouts?"

"They were moving forward."

"Damn, I'm sure my grandmother moves quicker than these guys. Oy."

"If you were going into unfamiliar, possibly hostile territory, would you rush in?"

"If I was in a Baneblade, I'd do damn near whatever I wanted."

Sariah giggled before her face went serious and she put her hand over her headset.

"Wait, scouts are reporting back."

"I wanna listen in."

Static filled his own headset before he heard the garbled voices of the infantry, their accents pointing them out, like the Baneblade crew, as citizens of Golgotha.

"-forward. I'm seeing some footprints in the sand. We're watching the Dunes. I don't like this sir."

"Continue forward corporal, find the other scouts or what happened to them."

"Yes sir."

Heavy breathing followed, the Vox operator and his squad leader obviously terrified of what lay ahead of them.

"Poor bastards," Sariah muttered.

A minute or two of silence followed. Then a sudden gasp that nearly threw the two officers out of their seats in surprise.

"Oh shit! They're right ahead of us!"

"Who is corporal?"

"The last scout squad! Fuck me, they're all dead!"

"Squad four, do you have anything?"

Silence.

"Squad four?"

"Sir we're a hundred yards away from their bodies, but we aren't moving a muscle!"

"Goddammit corporal, you will advance!"

"Send in one of the Chimeras and we'll do so."

"You are being insubordinate corporal!"

"We're not getting ourselves killed without any help here!"

"Mule 2-1, move into support squad three."

"Understood."

Sariah looked at DeVries, who returned a stony glare.

"Everyone, get ready. I have a feeling we're gonna be heading straight into the shit."

The sound of cannons loading, engines revving, and the clanking of Bolter-shell belts being pulled from the ammo boxes below filled the hull. For all the problems and seemingly unprofessional behavior of the crew, they were trained and dedicated.

"Mule 2-1 on station. Gunners confirming ten bodies ahead of us."

"Understood. Mule 2-1, squad three, advance with caution."

Silence again. Tapping the arm of his seat, DeVries listened nervously. He was about to speak when everything went to hell.

"Holy fu-"

The sounds of laser bolts and something that sounded like darts filled the headset, screams and gurgling following. A new voice came over the Vox.

'CORPORAL AND VOXMAN ARE DOWN, SEND US HELP NOW!"

DeVries eyes shot over to Sariah, who quickly put him on the net.

"Sir, Standard Bearer requesting permission to advance and support."

"Granted lieutenant! Get over there and eliminate whatever is over there!"

"Understood."

Looking ahead into the viewport, he gritted his teeth and took a deep breath.

"Jax, forward. Full speed when you can."

"Roger."

The engines roared, and with a lurch, eleven barrels of hell rushed forward to join the fray, and Standard Bearers Machine Spirit seemed to howl in joy for the blood it would taste.

XXXXXX

Below, sitting alongside the Demolisher, Delray and Paol bounced in their seats, holding on as the Baneblade threw its massive frame forward.

"Delray, Paol, we're trying to find a place to get you into a good firing position. From what's left of the scout team, they're dug in hard and we're going to have to knock down some defenses."

"Roger sir," Delray said breathlessly.

Tearing up one of the massive dunes, the two were pulled backwards, gravity dragging them as the tank went forty-five degrees up. Delray's stomach lurched as he pulled his eyes from his view port, already feeling queasy without watching the world fly up in front of him. Finally reaching the top, they lurched forward as they stopped.

"How's the view look Delray?"

"I got a good view of the oasis. In range, and got a zone of fire. Awaiting target info."

There was a long, increasingly distressing silence.

"Lieutenant Sariah, I am awaiting auspex readings."

"Delray, I have nothing."

"What do you mean you have nothing- er, ma'am."

"No readings. Nothing. Do you see any muzzle flashes or movement through NV?"

He looked again through the viewport, its green and fuzzy vision revealing… nothing.

"Nope."

"So we have no targets?" DeVries said in almost disbelief.

"Negative sir."

"Son of a-"

An ear piercing whistle went through Delray's headset, a sudden change of frequencies.

"Sorry everyone, I'm getting command back, we need those scouts to tell us where these guys are."

Silence followed, Delray tapping the side of the trigger mechanism. How dug in were the Xenos? Were they Xenos? What the hell could they do if they dug in deep? How long had they been here?

"Delray, fire on the outskirts of the oasis, target being marked by laser."

"Roger sir."

Sure enough, a bright dot lit up in his viewport, which he swung the targeting reticle over.

"Target acquired."

"Loaded."

"Firing!"

Slamming his thumb on the trigger, the Baneblade rocked and the viewport went bright white, but as it cleared, much to his satisfaction, he saw a massive explosion in the middle of his reticle.

"On target sir!"

"Adjust target to a few degrees left. The scouts are moving in, we want to give them a rolling barrage. Zara, prepare to do the same for the other squad to the south of us. Your gun has range."

"Target received, firing for effect."

For ten minutes this continued, a constant firing of the two main guns of Standard Bearer. Given the fire, the surviving scouts were reinforced with the main infantry groups, now making a full assault on the oasis. Slowly moving foot by newly cratered foot, the infantry reported no contact or casualties, so the barrage was obviously working well.

"They're almost three hundred meters away from the oasis edge."

"Do what we can sir," Delray said, pushing the trigger and hearing the clanging of an expended shell hitting the pile behind them.

"Well keep it up, you too Zara."

A husky grunt followed.

"If the infantry hit any issues when they get into the oasis, we're charging in, all guns blazing."

"Hell yeah!" Fleury, one of the bolter gunners said.

The two bolter operators had sat doing nothing since they arrived to support, having to watch in disappointment while the cannon operators got all the fun. And the kills.

"Keep up the pressure," DeVries added.

A few more shells went downrange before the first signs that something was wrong arrived.

"What the fuck?" Fleury said over the vox.

"What's wrong Fleury?" DeVries asked.

"I thought I saw something."

"What direction?"

"From the rally point."

"I wonder if the CO down there decided to send someone for us. Keep an eye on it."

"Roger sir."

"Firing!" Delray cut in.

Pushing the trigger, one more Demolisher round did what its name implied, throwing up a mountain of sand in a bright display.

"Right Paol, only a few more rounds and then we can take a break."

"Loading shell."

"Target acquired."

"Breech sealing-"

Something flashed in front of his viewport, blocking his vision.

"What the fu-"

"THRONE!" Zara yelped.

"What's happening!"

They suddenly heard a clang, followed immediately by a grinding noise.

"Something just jumped on the gun! Something cutting through! Open the breach and pull out that fucking shell!"

"What-"

"Sir, something is on the hull and cutting through my barrel!"

"What happened to our pickets!"

"No response!" Sariah cried out.

Red lights flashed, followed by a massive bang. To his horror, Delray saw the Baneblade cannon, sliced in half, rolling off the front of the hull. It crushed the front bolter turret, with an agonized cry of its operator following closely.

"Main gun is disabled!" Zara screamed, his normal rasp now gone from the sheer terror.

"Fleury, Mikael, open fire!"

"Sir we have no targ-"

"Fucking shoot!"

"Roger!"

The rattle of twin bolters vibrated through Standard Bearer, followed by the clanking of empty bolter shells. DeVries was hoping that even without targets, whoever was on his Baneblade would be forced off by the firing. It was most likely a vain hope, but any chance was a chance.

"Figeroa, get to the front bolter turret and pull Santo out of there. If she's dead, leave her."

"Yes sir!" he said, scrambling through the hull.

"Delray, continue firing! Sariah, get me the CO, I want infantry support getting these cocksuckers off my goddamn Baneblade!"

"Sir!"

DeVries was praying that he would get support in time. Whoever was attacking him had equipment and training. If anything else, he wanted to get his damaged machine out of here and keep the forces of Haikk supplied with a machine as battlefield dominating as his.

His heart sank as he connected to the infantry vox frequency and heard nothing but screams, Lasgun fire, and panic.

"Shit!" he yelled, furious at his inability to help the troops on the ground.

Despite the firing of the bolters, and the attempts to let loose one more Demolisher round, Standard Bearer, despite its armor and weapons, was as helpless as the men and women dying near the oasis.

"Jax! Reverse! Now!"

"Sir, I still have a good shot targeted-"

"Shut up Delray! We're out of the fight! Sariah, tell the colonel that!"

"But sir, we can still-"

"I would rather have my pride wounded from running away than lose one of the few Baneblades we have! Jax, reverse and get us away from here!"

"Aye sir!"

With a roar of its engines, the firing from Standard Bearer ceased and it pulled away, its main gun destroyed, its crew frightened beyond belief, and the attack on the oasis missing one of its main components. In the span of a few minutes, the forces of Haikk had lost the advantage.

"What the fuck do you mean the Baneblade retreated!"

As fire rained down on his squad, the lieutenant in charge of the infantry attack from the north of the oasis was screaming into the handset his vox operator handed him.

"It suffered crippling damage and had to retreat. I'm sorry lieutenant, we can't afford to lose a Baneblade now."

"But my troops are getting slaughtered here!"

"Men are replaceable, metal isn't."

He wanted to scream, or run to the tent set up as a command post and blow his colonels head off for callously throwing his troops, and possibly his own, lives away and leaving them without any fire support.

"What about the Leman Russ' on standby?"

"Negative, they are refusing to advance. They believe they will be ambushed and knocked out as well."

"Well if we don't have anything, we're fucking dead!"

One of his men stood to fire a few bolts to what seemed to be an enemy, but three slivers of light cut into him.

"Throne!" he grunted as he slumped down, but having miraculously survived, he crawled behind a low rock and rolled his back towards it, giving him a suitable amount of cover. The rocks had been the infantry's best hope of survival, and all of them, the lieutenant included, had taken it with good grace.

"You alright private!"

"Stings like shit, but I'm not bleeding too bad! What the fuck are these things?"

"Xenos! Hell if I know what kind, but they mean business!"

"Where's our fire support!"

"Ran away!"

A few of the other troops, hiding behind another rock, looked at him in disgust.

"Fucking tankers!" one of them spat.

"Something ambushed them and they lost a gun! Nothing we can do!"

"We're gonna die here!" one of the troops said, her face full of tears.

"We have to do something sir!"

The lieutenant wiped sweat from his brow, feeling nauseous. He had no idea what to do. His training had never prepared him for this kind of situation, and the closest thing he had to combat previous to this was clearing downzone Hive mutants.

"Alright. Listen up all of you! We got no way back without getting gunned down, and we can't stay here forever."

"Fuck me, you want us to go forward?"

"Charge forward! Can't be any worse than hiding here and waiting to get killed!"

The other troops nearby shrugged, it was not the worst idea they heard. Besides, they were out of options.

"On my mark, we charge! Fix bayonets! Pray hard!"

Taking a few breaths, the lieutenant whispered his own prayer to the Emperor on Terra, spat, and lifted his sword. Charging forward, he felt nothing but fury. Fury at his commanders who led him and his troops into a death trap, at the faceless Xenos killing his comrades, at the seemingly hopeless situation. To his surprise, he hadn't been hit. Even more surprising, he tumbled down into a hole in the ground. Falling nearly flat on his face a good meter, he laid down for a moment, stunned and fearing he had blundered into a trap. Suddenly, he heard a few thumps, and felt something land on top of him.

"Son of a bitch!" the body on top of him grunted.

"You all right private?"

"No sir, I landed in a fucking hole."

"We did too sir!"

Rolling the unfortunate soldier on top him away, the lieutenant stood and looked around. Amazingly, the entire group he had led survived the charge. He counted five troops and saw other figures jumping in after them. A soldier with a gold stripe on his lapels saluted him.

"Sir, we were right behind you when you charged. At your command."

"Thank you second lieutenant. I don't know why they didn't cut us down."

"Neither do we. I have a full squad ready."

"Excellent. But what the hell is this hole?"

One of the privates who followed him in the first charge had gone a bit ahead and turned back to him, face pale and wide-eyed.

"Sir, it ain't a hole."

"What is it?"

"Bastards have trenches. We just fell in the front line."

The lieutenants frowned, the younger one slumping his shoulders at the news.

"Goddammit. Barely survived out there, now we have to fight through trenches. These Xenos are something else."

"Well they certainly aren't human."

"No shit."

One of the privates tapped his shotgun, a weapon that was handed out to select troopers in case of close combat, and nodded to the officers.

"I'll take point sir."

"Good on you for taking the initiative corporal. Lead on. Everyone, follow him!"

The first line had been breached. The question was, how much further would they get? The whole group clumped together before the junior officer reminded them to spread out. They didn't want their whole force wiped out in a single stroke.

"Sir, we'll hold this position and secure a beach head."

The lieutenant nodded and blinked in realization.

"I don't hear any more weapons fire. Did the guys to the south get through as well? Where's my voxman?"

A panting, breathless soldier with a massive pack trudged toward him.

"Sir, I got no comms from command or the southern front."

"Great. So we have no idea."

"No sir."

"Right. Let's push on. Remember, anyone with shotguns take point!"

XXXXXX

A few minutes later, a squad of five troops, shotgunner at the front, slowly moved through the trenches.

"Fuck me, how long have these guys been here?" one of them asked.

"Dunno, but they definitely were ready for us."

"They knocked a goddamn Baneblade out! What the hell are we doing here?"

"Stopping them from taking other Baneblades out. What do you think!"

"Well if you aren't safe in a 'blade, what the hell do you think our chances are?"

"Both of you, shut the fuck up and stay alert!"

"Aye sarge."

The group moved further into the trench lines, their nerves becoming more and more wracked with every step.

"I think we're lost."

"How do you know?"

"I think we passed that one beam twice already."

"This whole place is like a maze. Where the hell are the Xenos?"

"Hopefully we never see them."

The shotgunner rounded another corner and motioned them to follow. The whole squad was now in the same trench line, trying to figure out if they were truly lost.

"Dammit. What do we tell the LT?"

"That we have no idea where we're going, and we can't find the enemy."

"I'm sure they'll like that."

"Fuck it," one of them said before standing straight up and cupping his hands around his mouth.

"Hey Xenos! We're here and coming to kick your asses!"

The rest of the squad cringed and ducked for cover.

"What the hell are you doing!"

"Seeing if they're as cowardly as the Primer says."

A few moments, which felt like hours, passed. The trooper smiled and laughed.

"Guess they didn't want the challenge."

No sooner had he finished speaking that three flashes of light cut him down, the rest of the squad taking heavy fire. The shotgunner sprayed and prayed, hiding behind cover and letting loose everything he had. He too fell, a single shot piercing his helmet and skull. Two more fell after their Lasgun battery packs emptied, leaving one terrified survivor. Trembling, he looked up and nearly cried out in panic. He saw three towering figures in black armor looking down at him from tall, crested helmets. They hadn't killed him immediately, and he slowly stood up, his hands raised above his head. Death before surrender was all well and good until you actually faced it.

"I-I surrender!"

The Xenos looked blankly at him, his nerves now completely shattered.

"What do you want? I don't have anything! I don't have any fat on me, so if you want to eat me, I have nothing to give!"

Two of the Xenos behind what seemed to be the leader turned and looked at each other briefly before turning their gaze back to him.

"Typical mon-keigh," the leader said, startling the trooper.

"W-what?"

"Your friend attempting to bait us. Typical Mon-Keigh. All words, no action."

The leader then grabbed his arm and gently pushed him down the trench, past his dead comrades.

"Leave. Inform your commander there is no glory to be found here, only death."

The trooper nodded, his hands still over his head, before reaching the end of the line and sprinting back the way he came. The three watched him rush off before they turned away themselves, back to the center of the oasis.

The next stage of the battle had begun.