Samusenko placed another pack of Lho Sticks inside her sentinel. Its cockpit, however cramped, always had nooks and small leather pockets, where she placed spares. Having just won another batch from the steel legion in their nightly tarot games she was up to twenty packs. Enough to last for a month at least. It's not that she doubted the Astartes or the other guard regiments, she just had a tendency to prepare for the worst. Everyone had their own little rituals and this was hers.

Feeling comfortable and surrounded by copious amounts of nicotine, she moved the sentinel out of the depot and towards the landing pads. As usual she grabbed the upper bulk of her open topped cockpit and poked out to see the rest of her regiment. Twenty four sentinels, each distributed between six squads of four sentinels each. This made the 5th platoon the smallest amongst the regiment in terms of manpower, but much like the sentinels, it always punched above its weight. Each squad was further split in half due to their nature as drop troopers: the Sky talon transport ships could only transport two sentinels at a time, meaning that often the two sentinels would have to operate alone before they could regroup with the squad. This meant that the platoon had divided itself into different pairs, two pilots working in tandem, or at least trying to. Jokes about 'cockpit marriages', made by the rest of the regiment aside, it did make Samusenko's job easier: find a pair of pilots that have synergy, send them on their merry way to stomp xenos together. The part of her job that didn't require her to smoke three sticks to keep a lid on things.

Samusenko did a quick head count and sighed. Everybody was there on the land pad. Everybody, except for sergeant Boiko. Samusenko got out of the sentinel and started jotting back towards the depots. It wasn't hard to find her partner, she just had to follow the metallic screeching she became so familiar with.

"For the last time, no!" She heard Kantuari shout even before she saw him. "I am not going to engage in Tech Heresy because it would be 'funny'!"

"I said it would be ironically cathartic." Pouted Boiko.

"That's not an expression, stop using it! And ignoring that, do you even know how hard it would be to operate Orkish technology?"

"I mean, you just press the biggest button around right?"

That provoked another round of binary screeching. Samusenko groaned and walked into the compound.

"We have lift-off in twenty five minutes, people! Get a move on already!"

"Just a moment," Grumbled Kantuari who was fidgeting with the sentinel, "I'm conducting a final check that would be easier if the sergeant didn't routinely interrupt my prayers!"

Samusenko looked at Boiko, who was sitting atop the sentinel, legs dangling as usual. She shrugged, shaking her dark ponytail: "Simply trying to figure out if we can use the gargant ma'am."

Samusenko rubbed her temples, she had a tendency to forget how immature Boiko could act. The sergeant was excellent when it came to piloting, which was the primary reason why Sam had chosen her as a second, but military life couldn't kill her carefree spirit. Most of the regiment considered this to be a great boon to morale. Most of the regiment didn't have to work with her on a daily basis.

"You do remember that the last time Kantuari tried dissecting an ork pistol, his brain cage nearly combusted, right?"

"Yeah but it was on a small scale."

"And…?"

"Well if something is stupid on a small scale we try to dissect every tiny piece, but If something is stupid on a monumental level, our brains just accept it." Boiko said confidently. "Basic sociology, really."

"Psychology!" Shouted Kantuari his oculars looked redder than usual, "And no it is not!"

"Regardless," Said Samusenko, "The Colonel specifically wants to disable any weapons on the Gargant."

"Yeah but Mum doesn't operate walkers like we do, so she doesn't get it."

Samusenko stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, then groaned: "you just want to role-play as a Titan pilot."

"It's not role-play if it's in my job description!"

Samusenko glared at the sergeant and pointed at the exit.

Boiko sighed, "Fine, fine, dropping the matter." With that she dropped back into her seat and got her helmet on. "Would be quite cathartic, that's all I'm saying."

Samusenko ignored her and looked at Kantuari who gave her a thumbs up. Sentinel number two, nicknamed "Chatterbox" due to the chattering nature of its occupant, started moving and exited the depot.

"I do not understand how you tolerate her." Confessed Kantuari, walking up to the lieutenant.

"She might be a bit aloof." Conceded Samusenko, "but she's one the best pilots I know."

The Enginseer scoffed, "Well, you're both lucky that I am so willing to ignore slights towards the machine god."

Samusenko smiled and made the sign of the aquila, "And we are ever so grateful."

"You better be."

"Of course, if you ever added that armoured top to the sentinels as I asked-"

The tech priest sighed: "Don't start again, the drop pattern is specifically made lighter in order to be transportable."

"The Valkyrie pilots say that they can be heavier."

"I am not going to change the sacred designs of the ancients! Besides, you have plenty of protection as it is. Have faith in metal."

Samusenko dropped the subject. It was futile anyway. If there's one thing tech priests were more obsessed about than damage the machine received, it was any possible modifications that didn't fit in their orthodoxy.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, a woman commanding steel and a man worshipping metal.

"So how do you feel about this drop?" She asked, looking at the sentinels in the distance.

"Truthfully? The plan is moronic." Confessed the Tech priest.

For once, Samusenko grinned: "You have a better one?"

"No. But to use xenos constructions even as fortifications… It doesn't bode well."

"We were in worse spots before."

"Perhaps." The tech priest shrugged noncommittally, "I simply pray that the Sons of Medusa break through the lines quickly enough so that we will not have to spend more time than necessary within this thing the orks call 'technology'."

Assuming they manage to break through at all, thought Samusenko but kept that thought to herself.

—

The command tent was unrecognisable for Hartmann. The furniture was still there but the carts, charts and the regicide board were no more. It mattered little if they succeeded or failed, the tent would never see its occupant again. That was the life cycle of a campaign, even though one could feel a bit nostalgic about it. Hartmann stopped and brushed his hand against the table where he lost so many matches. Perhaps he lost his last one.

He heard footsteps from behind, sloshing in the water left by the recent flash flood: "I thought you'd be with the 1st platoon." Noted Farrah walking into the tent, a ledger tucked near her chest.

Hartmann nodded: "I will. I simply wanted to discuss something before we departed."

"Sounds serious." Farrah sniggered while brushing past him and inspected the tent. "It has been a while since I've received an official reprimand."

"You're not taking this seriously." Scowled Hartmann.

"On the contrary, Heinz, I am dead serious when it comes to the safety of the regiment."

"You know that's not what I'm concerned about."

"And that's why I am." She turned to him. She was smiling, she often was. A commander had to grin in the face of insurmountable odds, otherwise they would have the audacity to become impossible, that was one of her many mottos. But Hartmann learned to see past that facade that she put up for her soldiers. She was tired, scared, angry at both herself and the high command.

Hartmann sighed and took a more conciliatory approach: "Colonel, I admire your dedication to your regiment. You know that. But I am worried that this dedication will distract you from your duty."

"A normal worry for a commissar to have."

"I worry for my friend, Farrah." He took off his cap and looked her in the eyes. "I do not wish to see your reputation, the regiment's reputation, destroyed because you refused to follow orders. You deserve better, as do your men but this will erase all of their deeds. So as a friend I ask of you: remember your duty to the Emperor."

"All you worry about is…" Started Farrah but closed her mouth and looked down. "I appreciate that, Heinz. But you don't need to worry, I already instructed the demolition squads to rig the superstructure. If we're unable to hold the gargant, all I'll have to do is pull the trigger."

But will you? Hartmann wanted to ask. Instead he put on his cap, regaining his professionalism.

"Good to hear. I should be off then."

Farrah pulled out a ledger with equipment and stopped paying him any mind: "Good hunting."

Hartmann went towards the exit but stopped just before the exit: "Ah I forgot to mention. I'm assigning the Cadet to the 4th platoon."

Farrah levelled an eyebrow: "For his first drop? You're sure you don't want to assist him?"

"The Emperor protects, besides as you said, he does have talent."

—

The Valkyrie wouldn't stop shaking. Apparently that was normal due to the heavy rain clouds surrounding the southern pole but that didn't make Eshu feel better. His first drop, his first battle, his first real test. Nervous didn't even begin to cut it and the red lights near the exit didn't help. What would his role model, Ciaphas Cain, do? Drop head first into the orks and save the day most likely. But Eshu was no hero of the Imperium. So the best he could do was to re-check his grav-chute. The weighty device sat silent on his back, making it hard to move. It was bulky, composed of a generator tucked beneath his shoulder blades, a small set of controls on his belt and two jet thrusters situated near his head. For some reason it reminded him of angel wings, the type he saw in the stained glass in the Schola's chapel, only this was a cheap industrial copy. Appropriate, he supposed.

"It won't fall off."

Eshu jumped and would've knocked his head against the top of the Valkyrie if he wasn't strapped in on his seat. Sergeant Chalsi, who was sitting to his side, just smiled reassuringly and patted him on his chest.

"Trust me, I checked. Grav-chutes might be a pain in the neck but they're the only thing a drop trooper can rely on."

"Thanks." Muttered Eshu, "Wait, you don't trust your comrades?"

"Oh she trusts us alright." Laughed a trooper to his left, Kamran, Eshu remembered. "She just doesn't think we're reliable."

"If I didn't have to babysit you, maybe you would be." Replied Chalsi.

Kamran grinned: "See Commissar? Still treats us like we're fresh off our maiden tour on Elysia."

"Well Kam, you are a maiden."

The whole Valkyrie shook with laughter which, as Eshu noticed, was mostly filled with girls. The 4th platoon, composed of about a hundred troopers, was split into a dozen different Valkyries. Eshu was assigned to Chalsi's squad which according to his mentor was the safest place he would be during the drop. Relatively speaking.

"Now I contest that!" Riposted Kamran, who was also snickering: "And even if my romantic conquests pale in comparison to my battlefield prowess-"

"A low bar, all things considered." Added Chalsi which elicited another round of laughter.

"Even in that case! So is the colonel and I don't hear anyone making jokes about that!"

"Oh come on." Piped up another trooper, Elaheh, "Everybody knows that Mum's only interested in battle maps and regicide boards. You on the hand, well we all saw how you look at sarge…"

Kamran made a dramatic gasp and backed into his seat as if he were shot: "See Commissar? Nothing but slander and libel in this squad! To misinterpret looks of reverence to one's superior for something so obscene!?"

"My eyes are still up here, oh pious one." Chuckled Chalsi. Eshu started smirking despite himself.

"See?" Said Elaheh, "Even our amateur actor survived his first drop and he couldn't stop staring at sarge! You'll be fine, cadet."

"Superiors are for staring, you know? How else are we supposed to be following orders?"

"I thought commissars are for staring." Said Eshu earnestly.

"I'd rather do latrine duty than stare at Hartmann." Shuddered Kamran, making a quick sign of the aquila.

"But I could stare at you sir." Said Elaheh grinning. "Reverential looks only, I swear."

Eshu blushed and looked away: "Technically I'm not a full commissar."

Kamran shook his head: "Ah nonsense, you look like a commissar to me. And I'm not looking reverentially this time."

Looks aren't everything though, thought Eshu, but he only nodded and muttered his thanks.

Kamran gave him a thumbs up: "Don't mention it, sir. Also El? How dare you use my patented vocabulary?!"

This started another round of debate between the troopers. It seemed like a routine, something the whole squad was used to.

"Is it always like this?" He asked Chalsi.

"It's how they work out their pressure before a drop. Usually it's louder, they're just intimidated by you." The sergeant answered, putting on her helmet with a white stripe on top, showing her rank. Even with it and the goggles her strands of fiery red hair couldn't be hidden completely and poked from under her neck.

"By me?"

"You are a commissar, cadet or no. That cap and coat mean a lot to the rank and file." She turned, putting on her photo-visor: "Usually a lot of trouble."

Eshu nodded slowly, then realised that she was getting up: "We've arrived?"

"In about five minutes." Chalsi grasped the bars at the top of the ceiling and pivoted to be in the middle of the runway, overlooking her squad. She was tall, probably the tallest woman Eshu had ever seen. Clad in Flak armour and grav-chutes she looked intimidating. The squad went silent. Eshu tucked away his cap and put on a visor.

"Alright listen up! Or stare if you're Kam and El." That got a few chuckles. "To remind everyone, our target is an Ork gun emplacement near the construction yard. Once we drop in, we secure the site, link up with the rest of the platoon and blow it sky high. El you got the charges?"

Elaheh patted a large bandolier on her chest: "Right here sarge!"

"Good! Once that's done we make a coordinated retreat towards the Gargant. Then we pour ourselves a cup of Chai and wait for the cavalry. Questions?"

"Yeah, what if the enemy's resistance is too high?" Asked Kamran.

"We call in other platoons. Samusenko will leave a few sentinels near the gargant itself as reserves."

"We sure a single demolition charge will do the trick?" Asked another trooper.

"Each squad has one charge. No El, it's not a race. If Mirza decides to give the honours to someone else we stay put and cover them."

Eleheh pouted but didn't make a sound.

"Alright, no more questions? Then pass me my gun." A trooper finished tinkering with a large backpack and put it on Chalsi's back, passing the straps over the grav-chutes. Another trooper handed her a large rifle, far bulkier than the bullpup-style lasguns favoured by the regiment, which was linked to the backpack by two power cords. A hellgun? She was going to jump with that on her back? The red light suddenly turned to green.

Chalsi shouted: "That's our signal! Come on troopers! For Elysia!"

"Elysia!" the rest of the squad yelled and started moving. Eshu got nearly stuck trying to undo his straps but managed to follow Kamran to the exit. The door opened and filled the interior with fresh air and rain drops. The soldiers started jumping out, one by one, no more than a second during intervals.

"Just follow the instructions on your micro-bead! You'll be fine!" Yelled Kamran back trying to make himself heard over the noise of the wind and engines. Then he clapped the hand of Elaheh in some Elysian handshake and just like that he was gone.

Elaheh jumped after him and it was Eshu's turn. He looked down and saw nothing but rain clouds. Fear gripped him, stopping him from moving. What was he doing here? He was no hero of the Imperium, just a cadet who just got his cap.

"Cadet?" He heard from behind. Chalsi, she was waiting for him to move. He couldn't freeze now, these troopers looked up to him. Expected him to be a commissar. He breathed in and jumped.

—

Shoota boy Teethgit was trying to shoot his favourite squig. Formerly favourite, the little ball of teeths and aggression lost that privilege when he ate Teethgit's favourite shoota. Remembering his beautiful gun number one: 'da big Shootist', just made Teethgit more angry. It was the gun he had since he landed on that rock and he had good proper times with it.

"Stay still, ya zogging snotling!" Shouted Teethgit trying to hit it with his backup shoota: 'da little Shootist' which of course was smaller than his favourite. The squig didn't listen and instead continued playfully zigzagging along the different bits of scrap that littered the yard.

"Oh dats it! I just had enough of youz!" Yelled Teethgit pulling out a stick bomb and launching it into the pile of scrap. A few seconds later a very satisfying boom threw scrap metal in every direction nearly bruising Teethgit. He grinned.

"And dat is wat yuz get den-" The squig popped out of the pile and grinned back.

"Oi dats not funny!" Yelled Teethgit and opened fire again, making the squig scream.

"Teethgit! Big Mek said, no bombs in da yard!" He heard another ork yell.

Teethgit stopped firing and decided to reload while yelling back: "Oh twas just a small splosion! Besides dat squig ate mah favourite shoota!"

"Dats too bad, but da Mek wanted the pile untouched!"

Teethgit looked at the mostly whole pile of scrap, then back at the ork: "Looks fine to me."

"Yeah and go tell Big Mek Zapkan that yuz threw a bomb into his pile of scrap, see how that works out for yez!"

Teethgit groaned and turned back to shoot the squig again. But instead his eyes were drawn towards the sky. What was that? Stars? It was raining, there shouldn't be any zogging stars around. Teethgit narrowed his eyes and saw that the lights were moving. In fact it looked like they landed on top of the Mega Gargant. Oh if the stormboyz were playing around again, Zapkan wouldn't be happy, not that it was Teethgit's problem.

Wait, now there were more lights. Teethgit stood still puzzled. More stormboyz? Those weirdos liked jumping around with rockets attached to their backs and since those tended to explode there were never that many around. Downright un-orky, exploding before getting into a fight. Teethgit shrugged and went back to shooting the squig. Those were probably some new arrivals, coming to see the Mega Gargant every ork on the planet heard about. Then Warboss Sunsmasha died in that zogging canyon, Teethgit was the first one that went south. But not everyone was as cunning as him.

He heard another explosion in the distance and stopped shooting: "Dat wasn't me!"

A Meganob, one of Zapkan's trusted orks ran past him: "Dats because we're under attack by the Humies ya Git! Get the boyz together! WAAAGH!"

Humies? Here? Awfully nice of them to show up for a fight, now Teethgit wouldn't need to drive anywhere for a proper krumping. But bugger, he couldnt use his favourite shoota. Oh well, maybe the humies had something he could take. Teethgit started shouting war cries with the rest of the boys but stopped as he saw more lights. Directly above him and approaching.

Teethgit didn't have time to aim as trooper Kamran placed three shots directly into his skull. As the ork fell, trooper Kamran landed in a perfectly executed roll near the pile of scrap and started picking targets. The battle at the southern pole had begun.