He clutched the rifle to his chest, desperately trying to slow his breathing while his mind raced. His men were pinned down fifty meters away, half of them were dead, and his objective was nearly a mile away with no hope of ever being captured again, all because the higher-ups hadn't bothered to get up to date intel on the enemy.
He closed his eyes and found himself transported just a week before to when he had been sitting with his family on leave, desperately hoping that their tour in this God-Emperor forsaken city would be over soon. Then he got the call, General Zachariah ordered a full scale mobilization of not only the forces in Nafith, but all hives across the entirety of Ulanir.
His family had despaired seeing him leave, begging him to stay, to give some excuse for why he couldn't go, to come up with some inane reason that would give him just one more day with them. He had ignored their calls with tears in his eyes and stepped into the Valkyrie with the rest of the officers that had been called up, never looking back for fear that he would throw himself to his death to return to them.
Just as suddenly as it had come however his memories left him, dropping him back into the hell that was the trenches of the under hives. He focused himself, using the memories of his family to calm his beating heart and take stock of his situation. The mission they had been given was obviously FUBAR and he wasn't even going to try and salvage it.
"Uisdean! Uisdean!" He shouted, his voice was barely audible over the sounds of the battle going on around him. But thankfully the man heard him and with a single breath of anticipation broke cover and sprinted to his position. Green projectiles scattered around him, some whizzing just inches behind or in front of his head while others grazed his legs and armor by nanometers.
Thankfully nothing struck the man in the three seconds that he was out of cover and soon enough he had linked up with him, getting close enough to hear his instructions. "What is it sir!? Has higher sent us any word?!" He shouted, even as close as they were they had to yell to be heard over the sound of a thousand barking guns.
"Negative! I've gotten nothing from them in the last thirty minutes, and with how quickly the situation is turning bad I've decided this whole operation is FUBAR! We're getting out of here!" His shouted words brought a look of pure joy to the Sgt's face as he jumped onto his radio and began to call it in to the rest of the decimated platoon, informing them that the retreat had been called.
He felt a sense of vindication fill his breast as his platoon began its slow retreat and near instantly began to suffer less intensive fire, the Xeno's apparently deciding that the other platoons that weren't in retreat were a far more active threat that needed to be dealt with. Slowly, ever so slowly his men pulled out of the area, evacuating the makeshift positions they had been occupying.
At the same time he contacted the officers in charge of the other platoons and informed them of his decision to retreat and ordered them to do the same, his rank of captain trumping nearly half of theirs. Those that weren't able to be convinced through pulling rank quickly followed his example when the Xeno assault grew ever heavier as they saw the Imperial retreat and began to push their perceived advantage.
Thankfully the retreat wasn't one they had been forced into through broken morale and they were able to keep a strong rearguard in place as they ever so slowly pulled an entire battalions worth of men out of the fight and to the fall back positions that had been agreed upon beforehand, and thankfully well within range of the artillery.
The boom of the earthshakers calmed his shaking hands, and as he sat still in the safety of the trenches with what remained of his platoon he took a breath, closed his eyes, and he tried to imagine himself anywhere else. Somewhere he wasn't in constant danger of dying, somewhere free of the taint of the Xeno and Heretic, somewhere his family could live in peace and harmony.
He knew it was all a fantasy, and a fleeting one at best but it was also all he had to fall back on, his final refuge in the madness of the ongoing battle and so he clung to it like a dying man clings to a life raft. So his heart broke when he felt the rumbling and heard the roar of engines in the distance.
Tanks had reached the lines, meaning they would likely be given the order to charge soon, to charge right back into the meat grinder they had only just escaped from. Looking around at the rest of the men he could see the same thought on their faces, he could see the fear and doubt, the creeping uncertainty. He couldn't allow that, not now, desertion would only mean disaster with the Xeno scum so close to their lines.
"Men, look at me." He said simply, grabbing their attention through sheer muscle memory alone. You paid attention when an officer talked, even when you were dying and scared when an officer spoke, you listened. "We will likely die today, all of us. I will be no exception in that, hell I may even be the first killed in the charge, the Russes will be far too busy trying to lay down as much fire as they can to actually act as the mobile cover that they are supposed to be." His words weren't helping, he could see the confidence they were trying to maintain draining from them, that was fine, he wasn't done.
"So I say fuck them!" He shouted and eyes snapped his way, startled by his sudden yelling. "Fuck higher, fuck those alien bastards, and fuck the heretical bastards that got us stationed here in the first place! Fuck all of them! None of them matter here in this moment, in this moment we are the only thing that matters. The man to your left and right, that man is the only one who matters now, because he's the only one that actually gives a shit about whether or not you live or die." His words seemed to have the desired effect as they looked at one another, slowly realizing what he was saying, what he was trying to tell them.
"We may die, we may have our hearts blown into a thousand pieces and our brains turned to mush. But in this moment, this final assault we can do one thing, accomplish one task to ensure our sacrifices meant something. We can look at the man to our left and right, and we can save them. We can fight hard enough to ensure they survive the fight to come, and we can die happy knowing that they lived even if we had to die." His words were growing fervent now, louder and louder, echoing above the din of the distant battle as not only his own troops but those nearby stopped what they were doing to listen to his words.
"I have a family waiting for me on the ships above, they are safe, they are well cared for, and I hope to see them again one day. I could have gotten out of this duty. I won't lie to you, I could have requested a transfer, or given some excuse for why I could not participate in this campaign on the front lines. But I didn't!" He swept his hand above the slowly growing crowd around him, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders as he came to the apex of his speech and the Leman Russ tanks passed them by.
"Instead I stand here with you now! I stand with a lasgun in hand just like you! I have no bolter, no power sword even though both are my right as an officer. All I have is my uniform, my armor, my weapon, and my faith in you. I will go over this trench! I will go over it with the full knowledge that you are behind me, covering me, following me to the fate that awaits us, victory or defeat!" He lifted the lasgun that he had been forced to scavenge after his bolter had been destroyed by a Xeno sniper, turned to face the trench, took a deep breath, and heaved himself over, back into the fight once more. "Charge! Charge and die! For the Emperor!"
His vision focused, the periphery a blur as his legs pumped below him, desperately trying to catch up with the tanks that would act as cover for the assault. He didn't look back to see who had followed him, too afraid that he was charging alone and without support. He could see them though, the forms of the Leman Russes and how they took the brunt of the Xeno fire and simply rolled on unaffected.
He could feel himself speeding up as he saw that, desperate to reach the mobile cover and protect himself from the fire that was already being sent his way, far too much fire for a single man he realized belatedly. The seconds ticked by, his breathing like a drum in his own ears and just as he thought he was going to die from a rouge Xeno bullet for the hundredth time, he made it.
He slammed into the back of the Russ and felt as if he had survived a thousand deaths, which he realized he probably had. With cover acquired and his breath slowly coming back under control as he walked slowly behind the advancing Vehicle he finally acknowledged his surroundings, along with the hundreds of men that had followed him up and over the trenches.
Many had died during the dash as was evidenced by the fresh corpses that littered the under hives floors, but far more stood resolute behind the lines of Russes, ready for the assault to come.
And that is how it was for the next few minutes, men stood grim faced and silent as they slowly marched behind the tanks that acted as their only life line, passing by the dead and dying who had failed to keep up with the original retreat, or failed to stay hidden behind the tanks after getting behind them.
Occasionally he would see a man try and fail to reach the tanks from the trenches, likely having taken far too long to work up his courage and in return he earned a quick and painful death for his tardiness. Not that he cared all that much, his attention was focused forward, scanning the Xeno lines and trenches, looking for the perfect moment to order a second charge that would cause maximum damage to the Xeno forces.
That was how he spotted it, with a color scheme of Green with light blue highlights and various glowing spots that he could only guess the purpose of the Tank stood out like a sore thumb in the under hive. Not only because of its sleek design, but also because none of the Xeno forces faced thus far had been shown to us mechanized vehicles or units.
Higher had even begun to suspect that they did not use heavier vehicles at all. As the main gun of the beastly tank which he estimated to be around twice the size of a Russ slowly turned his way he got a good look at it. He guessed it was around 165mm in diameter, and suddenly he began to wonder if the Russ he was standing behind was really enough cover.
He got his answer a second later when the tank fired its main gun and in the next second the Russ to his left exploded. Shrapnel flew everywhere, pelting his men and himself, cutting deep into his cheek. Not that he even recognized what had happened as he had been blown off his feet by the force of the explosion, leaving him dizzy and not quite sure where he was.
It took around two minutes for him to come back to himself and when he did the sight that greeted him nearly broke him. Eight more Imperial tanks had been destroyed, and the rest had opened up on the Xeno tank, showering it in fire, only for seemingly nothing to affect the thing.
The various glowing hard points shined like beacons with every round that came its way and the field that surrounded it glowed brightly, evidently they were the points from which the tanks shields were projected. Not that there was anything he could do to help, if the fire from ten Leman Russes wasn't enough to knock the thing out of the fight immediately nothing he had on him would be any more useful.
Instead he turned to the trenches. There the fighting was fierce, the aliens were obviously the superior fighters, but the guards weren't slouches and numbers mattered for a lot in such close quarters fighting. It didn't matter if you had the strength of ten men when a hundred were dogpiling you.
Men fell like wheat before the chaff and Xeno warriors fought with the wrath of a thousand men, only to be brought down by the bayonet of a man that had snuck up behind them or had their brain fried from an up close las bolt. It was pure chaos as man and Xeno fought and killed one another in a battle to the death.
To him however it was where he was meant to be, it was his calling, to fight and kill the enemies of the Imperium. So he did just that, he stilled his beating heart, drew his blade and sprinted into the melee in the trenches. He didn't know how long he ran, nor did he care, but when he vaulted into the Xeno trench, and found himself on top of one of the bastards he could feel it.
When he stabbed the scum through the throat, and ripped out its tongue he felt that calling, that red haze. Not the heretical siren spirit of the dark god, but the call all warriors felt in that moment where violence and adrenaline combined to form the perfect high. Even as he blew out the brains of another Xeno he could only laugh, this was where he belonged.
-
I looked over the tactical maps that my Lords had prepared for me, as I had suspected deploying the tanks had been a massive boon to our forces effectiveness. Casualty rates had dropped drastically, Imperial forces had been stalled, and the cult was in full retreat.
It was perhaps the best thing I could have hoped for from them, especially as an equalizer against the Imperium after they had been deploying their own armored vehicles to such deadly effect in the last month.
But it wasn't enough, even with a thousand deployed at the cost of all my remaining Daemon souls, and 600,000 stockpiled human souls, which let me just tell you had not been an easy conversation with the rest of my Lords, it just wasn't enough. The Guard only had two of its regiments deployed in Nafith at the moment, a million men and around a hundred thousand vehicles of various types from those two regiments alone.
They had eight more they could put to use and another six on the way if what my Diviners were telling was correct. The cult doesn't have the same vehicle strength, but numerically it's even worse than the guard, eight million cultists were in the fight at the moment, with tens of millions more in the wings or on the way to reinforce the front.
All of that against my measly hundred-thousand soldiers and singular thousand tanks. Simply put I didn't have the numbers necessary to fight the war at its current scale and win. Anluan and her hounds had proven themselves vastly useful as force equalizers due to their sheer destructive potential as shock troopers, but even they could only do so much.
Which is why I had finally caved and created a new caste, I named them Feenmutter, or just Fairy Mothers. As an all female caste each was created with three human souls as their base and the knowledge and power to birth vast amounts of fey and hounds. They were literally custom built for that purpose alone, with all their magic and knowledge based around how best to mass produce more of the fey for my armies, though they weren't able to create Lords or Artificers for what should be obvious reasons.
Their introduction quickly proved itself a wise investment as they began to churn out reinforcements so quickly that for the first time in months my forces weren't running a deficit. Unfortunately they simply haven't been around long enough yet for the effects of their presence to really take hold, but I can only hope that they'll be enough to put our manpower problems behind us.
Especially when I have hundreds of thousands of souls ready to be turned into soldiers at a moment's notice, and enough arms and armor to equip entire armies. All I need are the men to actually wield these weapons in battle. I bottlenecked myself for far too long and that's my fault, I can only hope that I rectified the problem quickly enough that it wouldn't be the end of me and the hunt.
Though when I really thought about it, even if the hunt itself was destroyed I could always start from scratch with Dyrrath, Anluan, and Celras at my side. I could even go into hiding for a century or two and let the Imperium forget about me, with my Fey Form being something I could maintain for a full month now I had a feeling that surviving that long wouldn't be nearly as impossible as it would have once been.
Of course then I think about the progress made and the chances of the cult winning the power struggle with the Imperium and I decide against simply retreating into obscurity and fight even harder.
Plus I have one trump card left, one I plan to use soon to destroy the cultists base in the fifth spire before rounding on the Imperium and pushing them out of the spire. It'll be a bit of a gamble, but I've gathered ten thousand soldiers from the rear, two hundred of my new Feengeschmiedeter Panzer, and my secret weapon for the assault. Together they would be more than enough to smash the cultists.
In the process, if things went according to plan at least, I would be able to redirect the majority of my forces that had been fighting the cultists and smash into the Imperial lines. It would require three breakthroughs across the front to pull off, all of which I had plans in place for, but after the breakthroughs were secured it would be a simple matter of infiltrating the Imperial lines with my armored forces and my Atenatters would run rampant.
I hadn't been able to really put them to their full use so far in the fifth spire, but I would be sure to introduce the Imperials to just how destructive and chaotic my hunt could be when let loose. From there it would be a matter of build up, it had been foolish of me to invade other spires so early, I had been arrogant to think I could simply walk into the other spires and overrun them with so few troops, I would not make the same mistake again.
"My lord is now a bad time?" Dyrrath spoke, startling from my inner monologue and brooding session. I looked up at him, seeing the nervousness visible on his face, it was obvious he was about to tell me something that I didn't wish to hear. "No, no its fine Dyrrath I was simply overlooking our current plans and seeing if I could find any fault with them. Please tell me what's on your mind." I spoke, trying to sound comforting.
He took a breath before he spoke, and his words floored me. "Nuvi is pregnant. I am the father, and I wish to ask your permission to have the child." He said and his voice came out hoarse and nervous. "Obviously I realize this is highly detrimental to the war effort, and I will submit myself for whatever punishment you require my Lord, I failed to ensure we practiced safer love making and as a result of that one of your best Lords has been compromised in the fight. I recommend I be lashed publicly for all to see." He finished.
I was silent for a time, trying my best to process everything that he had just said, not quite sure of what I had just heard.
Eventually I did accept the reality that Dyrrath would be a father soon, and one of my minor worries had come to pass. I also acknowledged that I would have to give a lesson on safe sex to these fucks soon, and umm start practicing it myself hehehe, along with that I would have to put out a memo with all the details for the rest of the hunt.
Aside from all that however, all I could feel was excitement and without my consent a wide smile broke out across my face as I jumped at the man and brought him into my arms. "Congratulations my friend! Of course you have my permission to have your child! And no you will not be punished for this, I could never punish any of my Hunters from expressing their love for one another in such a way." I said, my voice full of emotion as I looked at my second creation.
He looked visibly relieved, and beyond happy at my proclamation. I wonder how long he had been sitting on his little revelation before he brought it to me. Knowing him it was likely far too long.
"Thank you my Lord. You have no idea how much that means to me, I love Nuvi, it would have been hard to terminate her pregnancy, but I would have done so if you had ordered it." He said, and I could only cringe at the fact that he thought that I would have made him do something so horrible.
He must have seen my look however because he continued. "Not that I think you would order something like that my Lord! I just… I just can't think straight when it comes to her and my mind automatically jumps to the worst. Please forgive me." His words were careful, obviously meant not to draw my wrath. He was too precious.
"It's ok my friend I can definitely understand how you feel, I am the same way with Celras. I don't know what I would do or think in your situation. I can only hope that I would have had the same level headedness." My words brought him visible relief, which I was all to happy to give. I would never harm my seconds' loyalty. Even if it was inconvenient.
"Do you think you will be able to leave her long enough to act as the Ewigkeits pilot? It was made to be your mount after all, I would hate for you to have to lose her to another. But the war goes on no matter our wants." I said, and I could see him pause as he did the math in his head. We had no idea how long Fey pregnancies lasted of course, but three to four months on the line should be well within the window that he could be gone.
"Yes my lord I do believe I will be able to pilot her, thank you for allowing me to keep this opportunity." He said with a bow. I waved him off. "Don't thank me just yet, you will have a newborn baby to raise soon after all hahaha, now you are dismissed I have much to do. Good luck my friend." I said with a smile and a wave, which he returned.
I could only hope things worked out well for him, looking into my memories from the grand hunter and his few interactions with child fey I knew Dyrrath would need it.