The Sentinel tilted over with a metallic groan. Samusenko cursed and slammed the force stop button. The bipedal walker stopped, the cockpit tipped over drunkenly. Samusenko nearly hit her head against the metallic bulk of the cockpit which made her curse again.
"I think the Gyro stabilisers are malfunctioning, lieutenant." A voice came from behind.
"No really, sergeant? What was your first guess?" Samusenko replied with spite.
"The fact that it looks like Private Jenks after a night at the pub, ma'am." Answered Boiko, cheerful as ever.
Samusenko groaned and put the engine in reverse, trying to stabilise the Sentinel. It slanted backwards but couldn't stand upright and started falling again. She probably would've hit the ground and was already prepared for the impact if it wasn't for Boiko positioning her own Sentinel to take the brunt of the impact. The walkers clanged but neither fell.
"Thanks." Said Samusenko after a moment.
"Don't mention it boss. You alright?" The always chipper sergeant replied. Sometimes Samusenko thought that Boiko was too pure for the guard. A piece of serene Elysia they all left behind after their first tour of duty.
"No concussions. Let's just hope that our resident cogboy didn't hear-" And of course the moment Samusenko mentioned the priest she heard a binary screech coming from the entrance to the depot. Well so much for that. She muttered another curse and climbed out the cockpit.
The Drop sentinel was smaller than its standard counterpart, little less than three metres in height, with two mechanical legs and a rectangular body, housing the engine, cockpit and armament. By all accounts it was not a grand machine of war that the guard was known for: it could never go toe to toe with a battle tank or outrun an assault vehicle (and Samusenko tried both in her younger years). But it was manoeuvrable, all-terrain, compact enough for deployment alongside the 36th Regiment and, with the right armament, capable of destroying most targets encountered behind the enemy lines. So Samusenko was proud to command a platoon of them. Even if that meant that she had to deal with a tech priest.
Climbing down the walker she saw the priest approaching her. Enginseer Kantuari wore crimson robes and worker's apparel, a gear of the machine god displayed prominently on his chest. Two mechadendrites emerged from his back, constantly fidgeting and turning, yearning to tinker. A hood covered his face and what little Samusenko could see was too inhuman: glass sensors instead of eyes, a rebreather unit instead of a nose, a vox box instead of a mouth. Tech priests. Samusenko shivered and prepared for the verbal abuse.
"What did you do?" The enginseer yelled in a tone filled with static.
"I was taking it out-" Before she got to finish her phrase the tech priest moved past her and started examining the two sentinels, muttering litanies.
"I thought number seven was behaving strangely so I took it out for the test drive." Samusenko repeated, feeling annoyed.
Kantuari turned his oculars to glare at her: "Without my presence?"
Samusenko scoffed: "You were occupied!"
"For a mere hour!"
"It was a routine check!"
"And you nearly killed the poor thing!"
"I did not!"
"I saw it nearly falling over! You cannot fool me, Lieutenant!" The Enginseer pointed at her.
"Should I be present for this?" Asked Boiko.
The two turned to look at her, sitting atop her own sentinel, feet dangling over the edge. Samusenko pointed at the ground, then the barracks.
"Vacating the premises, ma'am." Confirmed Boiko, and jumped down.
Samusenko sighed and turned back to the tech priest "Where were we?"
"I believe I was in the midst of accusing you of trying to murder a machine spirit." Kantuari mumbled, now fully focused on the sentinel. He was quiet now, more constrained.
"While being very emotionally driven." Samusenko said maliciously. "How unprofessional, oh servant of logic."
Kantuari turned his head again, but, realising that he would just prove her right, he made a very human grumble and gestured over to the supply boxes in the corner.
"Fetch me a replacement stabiliser." He said, emotionless tranquillity trying to reassert itself over righteous indignation.
Samusenko turned and started doing as asked, savouring her small victory. Despite the cold exterior and the wire filled interior, Kantuari was still human. People tended to forget that. But being the lieutenant of the only sentinel platoon in the regiment meant that Samusenko had to spend more time with Kantuari than any regular guardsman. Over the years she learned to see his particular ticks.
She found the parts and handed them over while Kantuari prepared the sacred oils and recited the litany of replacements. Deciding to let him work, Samusenko sat on one of the boxes and got out a Lho stick.
"So, did you see them?" She asked, getting out a lighter.
She managed to light up the stick and burn through it halfway before the tech priest finished his litany and deigned to answer: "I did."
Samusenko leaned in: "What were they like?"
Instead of replying the tech priest started applying the sacred oil. After another two minutes and a finished Lho stick he answered: "Magnificent."
"And?"
"No, that's it."
"Oh by the Throne Kantuari, come on! I've been stuck in morning drills for hours!" Samusenko pleaded.
Kantuari's mechadendrites started fidgeting with the sentinel, uncoupling the faulty parts. "Perhaps if you actually paid more attention we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Samusenko got another Lho stick and started flicking on the lighter: "Alright, sorry I nearly crashed the sentinel."
The mechadendrites stopped moving and the tech priest turned to look: "This was the first apology you've offered to me in the last 321 days. You really are curious."
Samusenko shrugged: "Well who isn't?"
"Point taken." The Enginseer admitted, turning back towards the sentinel. "I was… surprised."
Samusenko lifted an eyebrow: "As in disappointed?"
"Omnissiah no! It's just…" The mechadendrites dislodged the faulty unit from the sentinel with a clang. "I didn't expect them to follow the Machine god as well."
Samusenko started coughing, dropping her Lho stick: "The Emperor's Angels do what now?"
"There's little difference between the two, I told you" explained the tech priest, reverently putting the old stabiliser on the ground, "The God Emperor is simply an aspect of the Omnissiah-"
"Yeah, try telling the Ministorum priests that." Grumbled Samusenko, picking up the Lho stick: "So what, these Astartes are part of your cult?"
"No, no, they simply share our views. At least I assume so."
"You haven't even talked to them?"
"I was busy calibrating the tactical displays of the Lord General, do you think I had time for idle chit chat?" Snapped the Tech priest.
"You were the one who glorified binary speech! Superior in every way, capable of transmitting volumes of knowledge in an instant!"
The Tech priest made a binary screech, which Samusenko assumed was a substantial volume of insults. Realising that he let his temper get the better of him, again, he made another screech. Finally giving up, he instead put in the replacement unit and started working on it.
"The Sons of Medusa are of a single purpose and do not have time for meagre servants such as I.'' He admitted after a few more minutes of silence.
Samusenko had more than a few comments at the ready, but for once she decided to keep them to herself. Their routine exchange of insults was something she was used to, but some things, like the low standing of Enginseers within the Cult Mechanicus, were off limits.
"Still," Kantuari continued, "it was easy to tell where their beliefs lie."
"How so?" Asked Samusenko.
Kantuari pushed in the stabiliser before looking back at her, a glint of wonder in his oculars: "Their warriors have more cybernetics than I do."
–
Major Rudi of the 36th, decided that he preferred his angels at a good distance. A better man would've pondered if that thought alone was heretical, but Rudi had long ago decided that he wasn't a good man. A good man wouldn't have lasted in his position. No, Rudi was a necessary man, one that could break a few skulls when needed. And right now he was questioning the necessity of his commanding officer to be standing so close to an Astartes.
The Lord General's headquarters were already cramped enough without a two ton warrior, so the Colonel had left her veterans at the entrance. Rudi wanted to protest but, for once, he couldn't find a proper expression for his paranoia. He couldn't claim that the Astartes or the fellow regiments were planning something nefarious, not in public at least. So he stood right behind Colonel Zal, surveying the room, arm gripping his bolt pistol. Wouldn't do much against an angel but the feeling of the grip in his hand made him relaxed.
The Lord General was explaining the situation at the front in great detail and with many embellishments. That was natural, since the man never actually visited the battlefield himself and so had to improvise. His angular, aristocratic face was illuminated by the glow of the projector that displayed the planet itself. After spending five months on this rock Rudi had decided that he didn't like it. Far too frigid and filled with orks. Not to mention the flash floods that could bring a whole deluge in an instant. That made deployment difficult and the orks more slippery.
Next to his Lordship the various Colonels and regimental Commanders were busy looking at the Astartes or pretending to look at the projection. Head honchos from The Scintillan Fusiliers, The Steel Legion and The Maccabian janissaries were all in attendance. Normally they would all be squabbling, arguing about strategies and which of the pampered nobles had the best uniform (Rudi always bet on the Scintillans). But today they were quiet. Afraid perhaps, intimidated certainly but not terrified. No, the upper brass of the guard had spent too long in the fight to be terrified by the simple presence of a Space Marine. But most of them kept any remarks at bay.
As Rudi looked at the Space Marine he understood why. There was only one, the rest either still in orbit or standing guard outside of the Lord General's tent. If he was the leader of their chapter, Rudi clearly saw why he had no need of bodyguards: towering over any man and nearly as wide as two guardsmen put together, the Space marine was clad in emerald green ceramite armour that was impervious to most small arm fire. And as if that was not enough, he was also filled with a number of augments: his legs were replaced by heavy metal appendages which reminded Rudi of a servitor. His back housed two mechadendrites and three larger servo arms, each equipped with a weapon of some sort. Rudi could guess that one was a flamer, the other a power claw and some form of a cannon at the third. His arms were fully cybernetic made from some sort of iron and Rudi could only guess what lay beneath the Space Marine's helmet. No, he did not need bodyguards.
"And so, while the Orks are proving to be a substantial threat, I am certain that we will triumph here and proceed to pacify this invasion." The Lord General rambled on. "Who knows, perhaps we might even restore the Badap sector to its former glory days-"
"They never existed," Interrupted the Space Marine, "And even if they did, you would fail."
The room froze. Rudi gripped his pistol tighter, while his Colonel tilted her head, annoyed.
"I- I am sure you would know best, Captain Esfandyar," Muttered the Lord General, wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, "But as loyal servants of the Emperor we must go on to accomplish our holy dut-"
"You will die, you are too weak." Stated Esfandyar.
The room started to be abuzz with murmurs.
"Luckily," continued the Captain, "We are here to assist."
More murmurs, colonels shaking their heads and exchanging glances. If the Captain was selected for his diplomatic acumen, Rudi didn't want to meet his brothers.
"Managing to insult the entirety of the Imperial Guard, the Lord General and every regiment present on the planet." Murmured Farrah Zal. "I am almost impressed."
Ignoring the room, Esfandyar used his mechadendrites to interact with the projector as he spoke: "The ork warboss is amassing a force near the southern pole of the planet."
"That's impossible, we've slain the beast during the canyon blitz!" Boasted Von Meyers, the Steel Legion colonel. As most members of the legion he had a particular hatred of the Greenskins. "I've seen it with my own eyes!"
"Not the old one. A new Warboss." Esfandyar stated plainly as if he was schooling children.
Von Meyers' moustached face became pale: "That fast? They were supposed to be fighting each other for months!"
The captain didn't deign to answer instead pulling up a new projection. It was a satellite image, which then was reconstructed and formed a rudimentary projection of an even more rudimentary war machine.
"A Gargant." Whispered one of the colonels.
"A Mega Gargant." Corrected Esfandyar. "Still under construction."
Rudi examined the image. Tall as a building and armed to literal teeth, the Gargant was, in theory, the Orks' version of Imperial Titans. Much like the orks it was brutish, rudimentary and not to be underestimated. Rudi could count at least a dozen weapon systems, every gun bigger than the other one. Primitive scaffolding surrounded the beast, as well as numerous guns and ork buildings.
"If they installed void shields on it, we would have no weapons that could break it." Von Meyers said aghast. "No Titans, no superheavy tanks, nothing."
The room agreed with the sentiment, with more than a few officers making the sign of the aquila. Rudi's superior officer just sighed.
"And you cannot strike it from orbit." She concluded while looking directly at the Space Marine.
The room's attention turned towards her. Esfandyar himself paused and looked at the Colonel, who continued: "You arrived in orbit in a strike cruiser, a star ship capable of erasing continents with its weaponry. If you could have destroyed it alone you wouldn't be here. Which means that you, my lord, need the Guard."
Her eyes locked on the Space Marine and Rudi felt the tension in the room rising. In truth the Colonel was voicing the reasoning at which most in the room had already arrived but no one was willing to state openly. When confronted with a Titan class weapon, there were usually two possibilities. Either you matched the enemy, kiloton per kiloton, or you simply glassed the entire continent from orbit. Assuming you didn't need the continent. And if neither option was available well the best recourse was to throw as many bodies at the five kiloton problem until the problem stopped moving.
Esfandyar kept the stare for another solid minute before speaking up: "Correct. We cannot deploy the orbital weapons."
"Well why the warp not?" Asked Von Meyer, temper rising at the thought of letting Orks go un-bombarded and unscathed. "Our naval contingent doesn't have enough guns to make a difference but you should-"
"No." Rebutted Esfandyar, in a voice that brokered no further arguments.
The room became silent once again.
The Lord General got out his handkerchief again: "I would remind you, Captain, that I was assigned command of this theatre of war. If we cannot deploy the optimal weaponry available, I would prefer to… know the reason…" His arguments wilted away as the Space Marine slowly turned his armoured head to glare at the General.
"Our cannons are… inoperable." He finally answered after another pause. "Lance artillery damaged during Warp travel."
A collective sigh travelled the room.
"But I've developed a plan." Esfandyar continued. "You have an airborne regiment at your disposal, have you not?"
Rudi felt a chill travelling his spine.
"The 36th Elysian drop troopers." Confirmed the Lord General, "led by the accomplished Colonel Farrah Zal."
Esfandyar nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the Colonel and added further modifications towards the projection. Rudi saw defences near the Mega Gargant and a few lines above it.
"Trying to push towards the southern pole is ineffective. It would take far too much time." Stated the Space Marine. "An airborne strike will disable it and the Warboss in one action."
Rudi cursed, internally. The Colonel managed to keep a straight face.
"I thought Space Marines were masters of deep strikes." She said, frowning, "My lord, why would you want us?"
"Our chapter is specialised in mechanised warfare, not deep strikes. And we have found other targets more suited for our wrath. Other Ork strongholds, closer to the equator."
"We would be dropping thousands of kilometres deep in ork territory." Farrah said, stating the obvious, "extraction will be difficult."
Esfandyar took a step towards her: "Are you too weak for this task, Colonel?"
"Not all of us are blessed with Astartes biology," remarked Farrah, "and given the task I'm not certain we'd live long enough to accomplish it."
"That may be so." Said the Lord General, studying the projection, "But should this Gargant ever be finished…"
"As you said." Finished Esfandyar drilling Farrah Zal with his mechanical stare. "We need the Guard."
Three hours later, Colonel Farrah Zal and Major Rudi left the General headquarters, heads bowed, yet another impossible task before them. Yes, thought Rudi, he definitely preferred to keep some distance between himself and angels, lest they drag him into heaven before his prime.