Chapter XIV:

Burning Skies

Sankt Glycine Base, Federal Republic of Giad, the Western Front, December 25th SY 2148

"For Emperor and Imperium!"

"Imperium!"

The men raised their glasses after Farestein's speech at the base's mess hall. The Cadians joined the Giadians in their traditions of the Holy Birth, enjoying exotic and fresh meals prepared by the base's cooks. The soldiers rejoiced as mead and wine were served abundantly. Music filled the massive, prefabricated mess hall with the cacophony of cheers and chatter.

General Farestein didn't hesitate to mix with his own men, chatting with them and gladly accepting any drinking challenges. The Giadian officers were shyer compared to the Cadians but tried to integrate with their lower ranks.

"I don't want to set the world on fire~

I just want to start a flame in your arm~"

The soothing melody echoed from the base's loudspeakers, adding an air of tranquillity and a small measure of peace in Wolfsland. Holmes felt a gentle tap behind his shoulder. He turned around and was almost startled by the sight of Jenniah. They were both in their woodland fatigues without their battle armour or weapons. The pilot smiled warmly and beckoned for his hand. Confused, the Kasrkin lieutenant offered his hand, and he was immediately dragged away from his squad, pulled close into Jenniah's arms.

She held his right hand out and at shoulder height while she guided his left hand to rest on her hip. He felt her hand then rest on his shoulder and quickly followed her steps, swaying gently to the music.

"In my heart, I have but one desire~

And that one is you; no other will do~

I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim~

I just want to be the one you love~

And with your admission that you feel the same~

I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of

Believe me~"

Holmes could feel the mocking stares and whispers of his men but decided to chew them out at a later date. His bright indigo eyes were fully focused on the only person he cherishes the most. His crazy pilot, his intrepid friend, and his soon-to-be wife.

Jenniah's warm smile grew wider, adoring his blatant and silent staring. She ran her fingers through his short brown hair as she gazed deeply back at him.

"Y'know, despite liking you gawking at me, a 'I love you' would be fine as well." She chastised him coyly.

A light blush flushed his chiselled cheeks, and he immediately averted his gaze, trying to find something, anything, to distract himself.

"Marrek." She insisted with a side grin, enjoying the sight of a battle-hardened soldier being reduced to a bashful and meek boy. She finds the contrast endearing but felt grateful and privileged that he allows himself to open up and show his vulnerable side. She would never take his love for granted and will do anything to cherish it for as long as possible.

"I… I love you, Jenniah," Holmes finally blurted out, his face turning redder than the Sororitas' prayer robes.

"I love you too, Marrek." She leaned in for a tender but fond and intimate kiss.

"I don't want to set the world of fire~

I just want to start a flame in your heart~"

Liberté Et Égalité, Republic of San Magnolia

The streets were eerily quiet and empty save for the numerous patrols of Guardsmen and Servo-skulls that wandered around. The president, after being threatened by Admiral Ravenkin, issued a strict curfew following the bold attacks carried out by the Patriotic Knights.

"Curfew is in effect. All citizens must remain inside in their habs. Failing to adhere will result in immediate arrest. Resisting arrest will result in summary execution. The Emperor protects."

The deadpan voice of the Servo-skull repeated the message as it hovered over a cold corpse.

Terrified screams echoed as Guardsmen breached and swarmed a hab block, apprehending and extracting any civilians out of the building to be interrogated. Shots rang out as a few handfuls resisted arrest. Local temples were burnt down and police stations had their arsenals confiscated and emptied, much to the dismay and protests of the local security forces.

President Blanchard sat silently in her office, listening in anguish and despair as the Imperium brutally stripped away her citizens' freedom and livelihoods. The Republic she once knew and cherished, the pure and proud Albas that ruled this country were now brought to their knees without any significant resistance to their new oppressors.

She regretted the financial aid she provided to the Holy Magnolian Order. She firmly believed that the Order could overthrow the Imperium, but they only made it worst for themselves.

She pulled out a drawer and retrieved a small tin case. She breathed out heavily, glancing at her final will before pouring her last glass of red wine. She opened the case and produced small pills into her hand. Filled with lethal doses of potassium cyanide, the higher ranks of the Order offered her these pills in case she was found out by the Imperium.

With the looming gaze of the Admiral on her and the beginning of the end of her beloved Republic, she opted to go out in her own terms. She tossed the pills into her mouth and washed them down with red wine. Remorseful tears trailed down her cheeks as she closed her eyes and embraced Death.

The men worked hastily as they transferred crates of weapons and ammunitions into a small, converted, minecart. The faithful warriors of the Patriotic Knights were eager to face the Imperial colonisers, determined to restore their beloved Republic from the grasps of their oppressors. They'll be remembered as heroes, valiant soldiers that fought for the helpless; songs will be made, their people will embrace them with open arms. They'll be martyrs.

A crate full of Molotov cocktails rattled loudly in the damp and barely lit catacombs. One of their youngest members accidentally kicked the crate while struggling to carry his own load.

"Victor! Watch your fucking footing!" One of the senior soldiers scolded angrily, "Are you trying to get us killed?"

"S-sorry, sir!" The young man replied timidly.

"Jesus, where did you get that guy, Henry?" He asked to his colleague to his right.

"Hey! He's my little cousin, cut him some slack." Henry snapped defensively, "At least he isn't like your brothers that volunteered."

He was about to retort when he sensed a presence in the dark corners of the crypt. He squinted his eyes and hovered a hand over them to shield himself from the white blares of the portable flood lights, unholstering his handgun.

"What is it?" His colleague asked concernedly, slightly disturbed by Henry's odd behaviour.

"Shush!" He chastised, "Everyone! Quiet!"

The chatter stopped immediately as the rest of Albas listened carefully for any unusual activity. After a couple of seconds of tense silence, one of the men spoke up.

"Get your ears fix, man."

"I said shut up!"

A loud crack echoed from the darkness. A detonation shattered the silence. Henry's top half exploded into a geyser of gore and guts; the mangled corpse slumped heavily on the damp stone ground.

Shock and horror filled the men, their muscles refusing to respond. One man finally had the courage to run away, only to be coldly gunned down by a stream of highly concentrated lasbolts.

"Crap, enemy!"

The rest of the Patriotic Knights leapt to action, scrambling for cover while firing erratically into, what they supposed, the enemy's position. More lasfire responded in kind, scything three other members before a volley of smoke grenades was hurled in front of them. The ancient crypt chamber was engulfed in a thick smog, reducing their visibility.

Faint silhouettes dashed around them, like spectres ominously circling around their prey. Victor swayed his pistol around, panic stricken and trembling. Beads of sweat poured out of his face, his heart beating a thousand beats per minute, his shaken hands held loosely on the handgun. He suddenly spotted a pair of glowing red eyes approaching to his right. He rapidly swung around and gasped with terror in his eyes. A mechanical buzzing shrieked followed by guttural and wet muffled scream as the chainsword tore through the young Alba. Shredded organs and bones spewed out of the young man's gaping wound, his face was plastered with petrified horror and agony before dropping in his own pool of blood.

The other Tempestus Scions closed in for the kill, easily terminating the remaining traitors with accurate fire and skilful strikes with their combat daggers. The Black Dragoons scanned and secured the chamber methodically before Cadian combat engineers began their work to destroy the catacomb's tunnels.

Interrogator Haveloch silently observed the procedure. Their latest intel gathered from prisoners revealed that the heretical Patriotic Knights were using the city's old and abandoned underground railway tunnels and interconnecting catacombs to manoeuvre around under the Imperium's eyes. It was also revealed that their underground network went as far as the Republic's second city, and primary manufactorum complex, Charité; which would explain their access to weapons and ammunitions.

The Black Dragoons were tasked with scouting out access points to the traitors' network and destroy key tunnels. It would then force the traitors to use only a few access points or to let them suffocate in the undercity.

"Interrogator," A Scion sergeant hailed behind him, "Should we send out Skull probes before we destroy those tunnels?"

"There's no need, sergeant," Haveloch answered coldly, "We already have several of their entry points located. We will flush them out of their hiding holes, and we will exterminate these vermin to the last. They'll either die with honour by the sword or die out of asphyxiation and rot here."

Republic of San Magnolia's First Ward, the Eastern Front, January 7th SY 2149

The M36B2 tanks rolled through the bushes, opening salvos of armour-piercing shells as the armoured fist of the San Magnolians went on the assault. The infantry frontline doubled their effort, pouring bullets and anti-tank missiles into the unwavering mass of the Legion. Löwes shifted their guns, aiming at the tank squadrons. Although the tanks' rounds were powerful enough to pierce a Löwe's armour, shooting on the move was a difficult task for the ill-experienced crews, missing most of their shots as they slowly crawl towards their targets.

The Legion tanks returned fire, decimating the M36B2s in a spectacular chain reaction of explosions. Meanwhile, Grauwolves closed in and shredded the surviving tanks. The Ameise rushed up hill to scythe down the infantry line.

"Ah shite!" Krann swore in dismay, "There goes the left flank…"

Commissar Rayne shifted her observation to the retreating San Magnolians while being pursued by Ameise and Grauwolf types. The left flank's tank support was annihilated and now the infantry routed, exposing the centre.

"Who gave them that order?" Rayne groaned furiously. She turned to a Death Rider messenger, "Tell Captain Heisig and Captain Danek to plug up the left flank, immediately." The Death Rider silently nodded and hurried to the secondary line where Krieg reserves waited. The Commissar turned her attention to Weiss, who was operating the Vox-caster, "Report to the Death Marshall that the rear guard is taking overwhelming enemy fire. Request an artillery barrage on designated kill box Gladius. And tell Lieutenant-Colonel Mazet that retreat is not an option!"

Barely a month ago, the coalition has managed to retake some territory when the new Republic tanks were finally deployed to the frontline. The San Magnolians launched multiple strikes, retaking several key settlements before halting and fortifying their new gains.

Unfortunately, the costly offensive was for naught. Since last night, the Legion's counter-offensive has strained the defenders and repelled them back to square one. The casualties were staggering, the M36B2 tanks and LAV-30 IFVs made very little difference on the battlefield compared to the highly mobile Juggernauts. The Legion readapted its tactics and ruthlessly overwhelmed the humans. The new Jäger types were devastating, they were either deployed in large masses or in smaller raiding teams, they are an improvement over the suicide-mine drones: more durable, more agile, able to act independently and operating at night, they are becoming the Legion's primary shock troop.

Much to her surprise, the San Magnolians' right flank and centre held their grounds, with the left flank pulling around and pushing back with the Death Korps reinforcements. Artillery shells pounded the enemy force, decimating much of their lightly armoured units. Squadrons of Avenger Strike Fighters soared over the battlefield, their rapid-firing Bolt cannons and Lascannons shredded the enemy tanks and mobile artillery units.

"Air support's here! Pour it on them, lads!" Lieutenant Wincek encouraged his men as he walked down the line of fox holes. He spotted a frightened soldier cowering in his fox hole. He grabbed the young man by the arm, pulling him up while bullets flew by him. "Come on, soldier! Get your rifle up and shoot!"

He shouldered his rifle and opened fire. Small burst of 7.62mm rounds hit their targets, shattering an Ameise's side armour. "Come on, Leon! We have them on the run, fire!"

The private rose shakingly to his feet, rifle shouldered with unsteady hands. He took in deep breaths before squeezing the trigger, releasing a short burst into an Ameise.

"That's it, soldier! Keep it up!" Wincek encouraged enthusiastically.

Suddenly, the centre line was hit by an artillery strike. All over the San Magnolians, shells ruptured just above them, engulfing the men in a thick smoke cloud. Then the screams came. An alert was given but it was too late.

"Gas! Gas! Gas!"

The men hastily tried to put on their gas masks, but the agony was too much. The soldiers cried out in pain as their skins and flesh were burnt at a horrifying rate. Inhaling the smoke caused severe burns on their insides. They fell like flies, slowly dying from a nightmarish and devastating attack.

"By the Throne… that's phosphorus!" Weiss exclaimed in shock.

Edyth covered her nose and mouth as the pungent scent of burnt corpses reached their position. The enemy artillery intensified; the white phosphorus washed over the rear guard. Very few San Magnolian infantrymen survived the attack, barely standing and traumatized, leaving the Kriegers to hold the line while a general retreat was issued.

"Everyone! To the Centaur! Go!" Commissar Rayne shouted as the enemy artillery bombardment got closer.

Marauder bombers casted their imposing shadows over the battlefield, basking the frontline into darkness as they unleashed their heavy payloads. High-explosive bombs and unguided bunker buster munitions plummeted from the sky. The earth below shattered and torched, several dozen tons of land violently overturned and disfigured, large, lunar-like craters filled the chaotic landscape. Blood, oil, and mud water filled these craters into a macabre marshland. Rotting corpses that were once buried resurfaced, their stench contaminating the air.

Commissar van Hart unsheathed his power sword, his Bolt pistol at the ready as he took command of a San Magnolian infantry company at the secondary trench line. The men hastily donned their gas masks and affixed bayonets to meet the enemy in close-quarters while the Death Korps' Basilisks thundered mightily in the distance behind them. A silver and blue tide emerged out of the smog of the battlefield charging through the shelling.

Behind his gas mask, van Hart closed momentarily his eyes, taking in deep breaths. He stood on a fire step and casted a stern but assuring gaze at the men.

"Soldiers of the Imperium! Though we may be overwhelmed, if this is how it ends for us, then we shall fight on, with the Emperor's Light in our eyes and His fury in our voice! This will be our glorious deaths and we shall be remembered as heroes and martyrs to the Patheon! For the Emperor!"

"For the Emperor!" The San Magnolians shouted eagerly, their blood pumping, invigorated by the Commissar's intrepid courage and his bolstering words.

In the following hour, the company would perish to the last man and the secondary line crumbled by the sheer weight of the Legion war machine. Battered and overrun, the combined forces of the Imperial Guard and the San Magnolian military withdrew further back to their original trenches, the Legion slowly crawling towards the capital city and the Gran Mur.

Presidential Palace Lune, Republic of San Magnolia, January 8th SY 2149

High ranking generals, ministers and any available members of the Republic's government were reunited for an emergency meeting. Following late-president Blanchard's suicide, the government was in disarray. The discussion to appoint a temporary successor dissolved into a heated debate as both the Vice-President's and the Prime Minister's parties had conflicting views and interests.

The doors to the meeting chamber opened abruptly as Tempestus Scions rushed in and surrounded the Albas. A tense silence reigned in the oval chamber as Admiral Ravenkin enters, her heels and medals clattering with each step.

Ravenkin scanned each member of the government with a critical eye, disdain evident on her face. Accompanying her were Commissar Darius and Magos Logi Tybas-575. The devoted disciple of the Cult Mechanicus easily towered over everyone in the room, installing fear and dread on the locals. Their tattered crimson and gold robe hid their gruesome and hideous amalgamation of machinery and various metallic appendages that clicked and clattered. Only the strange being's upper left part of their face showed some semblance of human skin and an organic eye, however sickeningly pale it was.

Spokeswoman Primevére bowed hesitantly, "Y-your Admiralty! What honour do we-"

"Silence." Ravenkin interrupted in a draconian tone, "It has already been a week since your late-president's death and all that I'm getting is useless politicking and childish bickering; all while your country is in shambles and on the verge of collapse with the Legion crawling its way back to your front yard."

She took another menacing step, walking around the meeting's attendees. "General Farestein has appointed me to handle all internal affairs and order of this government and its citizens. And right from the beginning, this Republic is plagued by corruption, incompetence, cowardice, and traitors. If it were up to me, I would've already destroyed your lands from the start, but the general was generous enough to spare your pitiful lives and dedicate the lives of his Guardsmen and precious war machines for your people. So, as a show of good faith to general Farestein, I will work harder to achieve his goal into bringing this backwater world back to the Imperium… starting by removing the weeds of heresy in this government."

She gave a nod to Commissar Darius.

"All identified traitors in this room are to be apprehended and executed swiftly. Scions, seize them immediately!" The Commissar ordered.

The Black Dragoons leapt to action and forcefully grabbed all suspected members of the government: ministers, secretaries and even generals were arrested. The traitors protested and tried to break free but were swiftly met with violent responses. They were pulled and dragged away. Several seconds have passed before a single volley of hotshot lasguns echoed in the hallway.

"Now to our next order of business," Ravenkin continued seamlessly to the horrid shock of the San Magnolians, "After some considerable examination with colonel Jeremiah and the Commissar, we've decided to appoint Brigadier-General Karlstahl as General-Governor of the Republic."

Karlstahl solemnly bowed his head to the Admiral, "It is an immense honour to be appointed by you Admiral, and to serve the Imperium."

"Good. You will dedicate your heart and soul to the Imperium, even if it takes the lives of your citizens. As the Emperor demands." Commissar Darius stated.

"As the Emperor wills."

++Excellent++ The Magos Logi rumbled to life, their head shifted towards the Admiral, ++We can now move on to our production shortages++

"Production shortages?" The minister of Finances asked confusedly, "Our latest reports suggest otherwise, um… sir?"

++Negative. Tank and infantry weapons productions were reduced to 4.7 per cent. Plausible solution: compensate loss of productivity with additional labourers++

"With all due respect, sir," Karlstahl spoke up, clearing his throat before he continued, "With the on-going fourth draft and the country's budget refocused to the war effort, we were losing our reserves of essentials."

++Understood. Proposition: utilise prisoners as manual labour. This could compensate productivity losses with zero cost to the nation's economy++

"You want us to use prisoners as slaves?" Primevére asked incredulously, "These people have rights. This is inhumane!"

"They are traitors and heretics; they've lost their privileges as citizens of the Imperium." Commissar Darius corrected her sternly. The Alba woman looked down and sat down, avoiding the Commissar's icy glare, "Know your place. You are but mere pawns to the Imperium's war machine." Darius turned his gaze to Karlstahl, "How many prisoners do you have in your custody?"

"I think about two thousand inmates, commissar."

"Excellent. More would join their ranks later. Would this suffice for now, Magos?" Ravenkin asked.

++Affirmative. Time of estimation to resume satisfactory industrial output: sixty-five days, twelve hours, and twenty-six minutes. Proposition: it would be wise to expedite the labourers with upmost haste++

"Yes, yes. You'll get your willing servitors soon enough." She replied half-jokingly with a placative wave of a hand. "General Karlstahl, I expect the draft to continue as planned and have the manufactorums at Charité under vigilant surveillance. Latest intel suggests that the traitors might strike at them in the foreseeable future." She instructed bluntly, "Interrogator Haveloch is working on preventing such attacks, but we can never be too sure. Is that clear?"

"Yes, admiral." Karlstahl bowed obediently.

"All non-military personnel must leave this room immediately!" Darius commanded firmly. The civilians hastily left the meeting room, leaving only the high-ranking officers with the Admiral and her staff.

"Thank you, Commissar," She nodded gratefully, "Now that we've appointed the new head of government, we can focus on the war effort."

Tybas-575 set down a Chart table and turned the portable device on. A green 3D hololithic projection flashed before the inexperienced San Magnolians. The hovering map showed the current battleline of the Republic with several symbols portraying various friendly and enemy units.

"As you can see, the Legion has launched another counter-offensive. While we still hold most of our grounds, the enemy have pushed us hard towards the Eastern and Northern fronts, where they've concentrated Löwe types and the new Jäger types. They've also deployed chemical attacks and raids at night. They are changing tactics and adapting quickly."

"How many losses have we suffered?"

++ Seventeen thousand. Three hundred tanks. A hundred and eleven IFVs. Not including the eight hundred Astra Militarum losses ++ The Magos Logi's vox plate reverberated ominously, sending a cold shiver down the spines of generals and colonels.

"In the long run, we won't outnumber the Legion. The conscripts aren't properly trained nor equipped, not to mention their weak morale." Ravenkin reminded directly. "However, the Legion does have a weak point: their command structure. They have a very rigid and linear command structure. The Black Sheep are the backbone of the Legion, capable of limited independent thinking and relaying commands. The Sheperds are the Legion's frontline commanders. Taking these out on a battlefield will render the other abominations guideless and easy targets."

"That is great and all, Admiral. But how are we going to identify what's a Black Sheep or a Sheperd among their ranks?" A colonel from the 2nd Infantry Division asked sceptically.

"For the past months, a strike team with sanctioned psykers was deployed in the First Ward. Their sole mission was to use their Warp powers to identify these special targets. The results were satisfactory." She explained as a matter-of-fact. "We will use this strike team to hunt down and eliminate these targets."

"Even if we could identify them, eliminating them is easier said than done, ma'am." Karlstahl countered. "We don't have the numbers or firepower to push deeper in enemy territory and take out their command structure."

"Eliminating the priority targets won't be your task. The San Magnolians will stand their ground and hold it until new orders. High-value target elimination missions will be carried out by small but lethal contingent of the strike team, stormtroopers and the Navy. They'll be dropped behind enemy lines and swiftly destroy the HVTs."

"Sending small teams behind the Legion? That's suicide!" Another officer cried incredulously.

"By inexperienced soldiers, this task is impossible. But for the elite troopers of the Militarum Tempestus, nothing is impossible." Commissar Darius assured with certainty.

Karlstahl raised an unsure hand, "Even if we do eliminate these targets… it doesn't really help with winning the war, admiral, just tipping the tide slightly in our favour."

Ravenkin smiled and shook her head, "That is why I've appointed you as General-Governor; it is now your job and duty to finish the fight. I've been tasked with suppressing the rebellion in your city. General Farestein will surely have a plan to defeat the Legion but until then, you will have to hold the ground war."

The senior general's eyes widened with surprise, finally feeling the weight of his new role. He was free from the strict and incompetent policies of the Republic; he was finally able to lead as a military general rather than a politician's pawn.

"You can count on me, admiral. I'll make sure to give the general as much time as possible." He stated with renewed determination.

"Of course you will. I expect nothing less from you, General-Governor."

Wolfsland, Federal Republic of Giad, the Western Front, January 16th SY 2149

Alarms blared as the soldiers rushed to their positions. Enemy artillery rounds pounded the ruined town, Giadian mortars and mobile artillery batteries responded with haste and in kind. A squadron of Thunderbolts soared to the air, providing close air support. A tidal wave of Legion swarmed the battlefield, the Löwe provided cover fire while the lighter Ameise and Grauwolves bounded for their target objective.

The Giadian infantrymen hastily manned their anti-tank guns loaded with 90mm HEAT shells. Small teams armed with shoulder-fire missile launchers set up on rooftops, balconies or even haphazardly perched on destroyed roofs. The Federacy's IFVs rolled down the narrow roads to secure key defensive points, their 30mm autocannons primed and ready to dispense fury and violence.

Captain Parris reached the observation post, "What do we have, private?" He asked the Giadian spotter.

"Over a thousand of scouts and dragoons, supported by at least three companies of tanks. No visual on their howitzers." He replied calmly.

"This is the third attack this week… Call in artillery strike on those tanks, keep suppressing them." Parris instructed before turning to the Navy liaison officer standing behind him, "I want Marauders and Vendettas to burn everything behind those hills!"

"Yes, sir!"

At the five hundred metre mark, the coalition unleashed the combined might of the Emperor's fury. Entire platoons of hostile drones were wiped out in seconds by the first volley. The Löwes were swiftly pinned down by effective and accurate Giadian artillery batteries.

A platoon of Hydra flak tanks roared devastatingly, their quad autocannons shredded the massive cloud of Eintagsfliege, a silvery rain coated the active battlefield. The Cadian and Giadian infantry braved through the hailstorm of Legion fire, determined to hold the line, and destroy the machine abominations.

The artillery crews of the Federacy worked tirelessly but with impressive efficiency as they loaded and send out shell after shell at the Legion. A gunnery sergeant hastily hailed the Giadian battery commander.

"Sir, we're running low on shells and charges. Should we continue fire?"

"Yes, of course. Resupply is inbounded soon. Don't let up!"

The heavy mortars went silent, their barrels smoking hot.

"Rounds complete! We need more shells!"

"Shit! We're out of rounds!" One of the anti-tank gunners shouted.

Lieutenant Holmes could see that the Federal troopers were rapidly depleting their ammunitions. Slowly, the anti-tank guns were dry and the howitzers followed just after. Despite having the sky clear to the Marauders and Vendettas, he just realized that no supply Valkyries were deployed since the battle began.

"Gelt, what's the status on our resupply?"

The vox operator immediately ducked behind cover, narrowly dodging a bullet, and listened attentively through the comms. His head shook with concern.

"There's been a breach in the line. The Legion has just bombarded one of our supply points. The jets are currently delayed." Gelt explained.

More soldiers were crying for ammo. Runners were dispatched to carry boxes of ammunitions and distribute them along the line as quickly as possible. The Cadians' las-weapons were quickly heating up, trying to maintain a constant flow of fire. But soon their air superiority was also challenged. Enemy flak rounds burst in the air, destroying several Marauders and Vendettas, forcing a withdrawal.

"They're in the wire!"

Grauwolves vaulted over the line of thick fortifications and began slaughtering the ground troops in savage close quarters. Cadians of First and Eleventh companies were barely able to contain the enemy at the first defensive thanks to their superior weaponry. Outside of the town, a Lunar-class cruiser, the Imperator Deus, launches several orbital barrages, scything out half of the opposition force.

The Legion was repelled but just as the cheers were about to erupt, two massive concussive blasts erupted from afar. The Imperator Deus' shield flickered frantically, sparks of energy shooting out wildly and striking nearby surface aircrafts.

Throughout the "Maginot Line", several worrisome reports of railgun strikes flooded the vox communications. Hundreds were killed by these devastating strikes and the Imperator Deus that hovered over the region was forced to pull back to orbit, leaving behind a meagre force of light cruisers to support the Western Front.

Sankt Glycine Base, Federal Republic of Giad, the Western Front, February 10th SY 2149

President Zimmerman and his general staff were gathered once again in the base's war room. General Farestein has summoned them for a review of the war's recent events, perhaps the otherworlder finally has a plan to defeat the Legion or at least their new railgun type artillery unit.

Casualties were high despite the construction of the Maginot Line. Sure, they were holding the line but not for long. Losses weren't as easily replaced as fresh new recruits were running low. Basic training had been reduced by two months since the beginning of the year and field promotion requirements have loosened. But it wasn't enough. A draft will be necessary, he hoped that a partial conscription would be enough to muster their forces.

The Secretary of Homeland Security discreetly walked behind him and whispered a concerning report. Since the arrival of the Imperium of Man in the Federacy at the start of the year, protests erupted all over the country. It was swiftly quelled thanks to the actions of Homeland Security, the Department of Intelligence and the propaganda from the front, the citizens have shown more support and acceptance to the Imperial Guard. Still, some resentment remained in smaller groups, showing clear hostility towards their new rulers.

Ernst wasn't enthusiastic as well, but if it meant the survival of his people, and Humanity as a whole, it was a necessary sacrifice. And one day, this world would be united and traverse the stars just like the rest of the wider Imperium.

The doors suddenly swung open, catching everyone's attention. General Farestein briskly walked towards the long oval table where they were usually gathered. Tailing behind him was Colonel Frazyer and a Navy officer.

"Gentlemen, I'm sorry for my tardiness," Farestein began as he sat down and pulled out a thick Lho stick, lighting up the tip before inhaling deeply. He puffed out a long stream of smoke before returning his attention to the Giadians. "I've been busy coordinating with the Navy and the San Magnolians for our next course of action…" His deep purple eyes landed on Altner, "What's the sitrep on the Western Front?"

The Major General cleared his throat and read the report in front of his eye, "The Maginot Line is still holding but with the recent attacks, our losses are mounting rapidly while recruitment is slow. Our forces are spread too thin and ammunition shortages have becoming a common occurrence with the Legion specifically targeting our resupply points."

"We're planning on issuing a partial conscription to replace our forces," Zimmerman interjected diplomatically, "But I'm afraid that it is a short-term solution."

Farestein nodded silently, pensively staring at the map of Wolfsland displayed at the far end of the room. He took another, long, puff out of his Lho stick.

"Have you managed to establish contact with the other countries?" He asked out loud.

"Our deep reconnaissance units are encountering some obstacles, but they should be in contact in the following month." Altner explained.

"I see. Tell them to hasten their progress. The Legion's new railguns are hammering our boys and we'll be annihilated. They've shown more aggression and are getting bolder day-by-day."

"I agree, general. But at the state we're currently in, we can only maintain a defensive stance." Zimmerman declared grimly.

The Cadian general shook his head, his gaze hardened, "Not if we force the enemy to attack on our terms."

Confused chatter and whispers erupted among the other officers and staff. Zimmerman raised a curious brow.

"We need to give the enemy a target that they cannot resist to attack, something that might tip the balance in their favour." Farestein elaborated confidently.

"A sacrificial lamb?" Ernst asked dreadfully.

Farestein nodded ominously, "Of sorts. The Legion seems keen on destroying the Republic of San Magnolia. And with the Cadia's Requiem nearby, it is an opportunity to wipe us out with a single concentrated strike. We'll let the enemy slowly chew the Republic's territories until they're close enough the assault the Gran Mur."

The Navy officer standing behind him had a worried look on his face, tugging at his tight high collar nervously. The Admiral won't like this.

"We will lead the Legion deeper in San Magnolia's First Ward while employing scorched earth." Farestein continued without interruption, "By the time they are at the Gran Mur's reach, we will launch our counter-offensive and eliminate those rail cannons."

"Assuming that we do manage to link up with the other nations." Altner pointed out.

"Exactly. If we manage to link up with allied nations, we might even flank and surround the enemy. If not… then pray that your men are resilient and strong enough to push through Legion territory and strike at their heart."

"It is going to take substantial resources and manpower to mount such an offensive." Brigadier General Ehrenfried noted bluntly, "If things go south, we would be lightly defended against the Legion's response."

"That is why we need to act swiftly and aggressively. Staying on the defensive will only bleed your forces until you're either out of ammunitions or bodies to replace the corpses." The Cadian officer countered harshly, "It is about time that your people grow some spine and guts and take back what is rightfully to the Imperium from these machine abominations."

Once again, the Astra Militarum was keen on delivering a bold, dare he say reckless and suicidal, strike to the enemy. Although Zimmerman could see the merit in the strategy, it heavily relied on solid logistics and high morale, both of which were on the verge of rupture. But Farestein was right; sitting here and braving the Legion's endless waves would only bleed his forces dry and time was against them. To the North, the United Kingdom of Roa Gracia is facing an impeding famine with the Legion permanently blocking out the sun and creating an artificial winter. To the South, the Alliance of Wald, though faring better than most nations, is severely isolated in the mountains and are relying on a few years' worth of supplies, maybe even months.

Communications with the Rin-Liu Trade Federation to the East have gone silent for several months. Ernst feared the worst for the Federacy's trade partners and assumed that the country and its citizens were completely wiped out. The same could be said for the Holy Theocracy of Noiryanaruse, located West of San Magnolia.

"Very well, general," Ernst finally spoke up, "We will double our efforts to link up with Roa Gracia and Wald. Rest assure, we will be ready to strike back at our foe and reclaim this world back to the Imperium." He declared with cold determination.

Special Officer Academy, Sankt Jeder, February 11th SY 2149

"Ah man… we've really done it, Shin." Eugene Rantz sighed in exasperation as they sat down at a mess table. "Though I must admit, that was some sick piloting skills. We'd be seriously injured otherwise…"

Shin sat facing Eugene, shrugging off his comrade's compliment. "I just acted by instinct."

Eugene gave him a deadpan stare, "Riiight, instinct…."

Nouzen remained silent and started to consume his lunch. The vibrant chatter that filled the cafeteria was soon drowned out as someone turned up the volumes on the televisions hanging on the walls. The TVs often played live news reports of the front. It kept the cadets up-to-date with the ongoing conflict and was a perfect discussion starter.

+++News from the front: Allied forces have successfully repelled another Legion attack on the Maginot Line.

Several hundreds of KIAs were reported with thousands of wounded after the Legion has launched several devastating rail cannons strikes across the line.

Thanks to the combined efforts of the Federal military and the Astra Militarum, the Maginot Line still holds and has resumed works on refortifying the frontline.

In other news, railway lines were finally established between the Federacy and the United Kingdom of Roa Gracia, marking a pivotal moment in the conflict as communications and supply routes would be much easier and faster.+++

"It must be quite a spectacle, fighting with the Imperium by your side." Eugene commented as he attentively watched the news broadcast.

Shin halted in mid action of planting the synthesized piece of meat, hanging on Eugene's last words. He hasn't even thought about the possibility of fighting with the Cadians once again. It was a nice change of pace compared to the Republic's or the Federacy's way of fighting, leaning more on aggressive tactics, and having an effective and competent support elements such as artillery and capable air force.

It eased his mind that the Imperium was also active in the Federacy, that meant that his comrades' survival was higher than initially thought. He hoped that the Major was also still alive.

"Cadet Nouzen!" The rough voice of his company sergeant called to him.

"Present." He replied obediently while standing up.

The bald man approached his table, Eugene reflectively looked away and made himself small. This is probably about his dangerous stunt during the morning's training exercise. Another chewing for Shinei Nouzen.

"Report to Captain Riegel's office at 1400 hours, sharp. You're requested by Lieutenant-Colonel Wenzel." The stern company sergeant informed the young man. His brown eyes narrowed severely, "Just what the fuck did you do again to garner a colonel's attention, Nouzen?"

"I'm unaware of the reason as well, First Sergeant." The Eighty-Six responded directly.

"That was a rhetorical question, Nouzen. I don't actually give a shit." The First Sergeant palmed his face in desperation, "You have twenty minutes to finish your meal and prepare a 24-hour rucksack before you report to the captain. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

The company sergeant nodded before his cold gaze landed on a small Eugene Rantz, "Cadet Rantz, have you made progress on that after-action report?"

"A-almost finished, sir…" Eugene squeaked meekly.

"I want it done since yesterday, Rantz. Nouzen and Sergeant Henzler have already submitted their reports." He berated him.

"W-will do, sir! I'll resume right now!"

The senior non-commissioned officer firmly planted Eugene back on his seat, "Just… finish your meal and then you can return to writing on that report. You understand?"

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"

"Yeah, right." The company sergeant puffed while rolling his eyes. "Carry on, boys."

Republic of San Magnolia, The Eastern Front

The Death Riders galloped through the thick forest as they sped towards a cut-off platoon of San Magnolians. Automatic fire echoed sporadically through the woods, accompanied by frantic screaming and small detonations erupting.

The Death Rider Squadron commander drew out his sabre, initiating the other riders to follow suit. They switched their las-rifles for sabres or lances. The stoic riders formed a tight wedge formation as they rapidly approached their engagement zone. Upon reaching a clearing, their cyber horses sprung to action, the Death Riders crushed any Jägers on their way and swung at the Legion. They clashed savagely with the enemy raiding party.

The exhausted San Magnolian troopers quickly formed a defensive line around the immobilized Mastiff tank and returned fire with their rifles while a small anti-tank team prepared their missile launchers.

"Stand your ground, men! For the Emperor!" A Republic corporal shouted with renewed vigour.

While initially stunned, the bipedal Legion vanguards quickly reassess and cut down the Death Riders, using their impressive and superior agility to strike the Kriegers off their rides and swiftly slice their throats. Some of the drones were equipped with stub pistols, wounding the cybernetic horses to throw off the riders.

A handful of Korpsmen switched back to their lasguns and opened fire with precise shots, effectively decimating the hostile raiders. Missiles flew as Scout types started to emerge from the dark. The commander reassembled his squadrons at the edge of the clearing, beside the platoon of Albas.

"Form up firing ranks!"

The Death Riders formed two lines, their las-rifles shouldered and aimed at the incoming wave of Ameise.

"First rank, fire!"

A salvo of concentrated las-rounds poured down on the Jägers and Ameise. It was quickly followed by a second salvo while the San Magnolians poured down lead and grenades down range, the tank's coaxial heavy machine gun was still operational. Despite being outnumbered, the small force of infantrymen and cavalrymen repelled the enemy wave. Stray rounds hit some Death Riders, few were unfortunate enough to receive a bullet to the head and slump heavily on the ground.

"Where are those IFV support?!" One of the Alba troopers yelled in panic, "We're running low on goddamn ammo!"

The ground trembled, they could see trees being swayed and trampled in the distance. The small anti-tank team quickly changed their munitions to armour-piercing missiles, anxiously preparing themselves to face a Löwe head-on.

"First squadron, on me. Equip lances!" The Krieg officer ordered. "Second squadron, provide cover fire."

The Death Riders acted accordingly, the First squadron grabbed their melee weapons and krak grenades. The commander inserted the last magazine for his Bolt pistol, muttering a small prayer before raising his sabre.

"Charge, for the Emperor!"

The Kriegers bound forward as the Legion tank finally showed up, its massive 120mm cannon poking out the tree line. The Löwe's coaxial machine gun opened up, the heavy rounds shredded through the cluster of charging Death Riders. The Korpsmen waded through the burst of 12.7mm rounds and attacked the machine's legs and underbelly. Lances shattered as their explosive tips smashed against the beast's hardened armour. Small but concentrated detonations cracked its hide open. Well-placed las-rounds destroyed the machine guns.

The Löwe backpaddled, angrily stomping its front appendages to crush the pesky cavalrymen. While it was distracted, the San Magnolian anti-tank team rushed over with their shoulder-mounted rocket launchers, their loaders had armour-piercing munitions in their hands.

"Backblast clear!" Their team leader shouted, "Fire!"

Three concussive blasts erupted, dust and dirt kicked up forcefully as the rockets soared at their target. Two slammed into the Löwe's turret while the third flew overhead and destroyed a passing Ameise instead.

"Tank's fucking down!"

"Fuck yeah! Get some!"

The Albas cheered but their cry of victory was swiftly swathed away as more Ameise and Grauwolves rushed through the trees, easily outgunning, and outnumbering the small and battered contingent of human soldiers. The Death Riders readied their lances for one last charge while the San Magnolians dreadfully fixed bayonets as they make their final stand.

All of a sudden, the first line of Legion drones was pulverized by a salvo of HEAT shells. Multiple bursts of heavy machine guns cut down their ranks as slender, white blurs pounced on them, vaulting over, and hacking a destructive path. Smoking heaps of scrap metal laid indiscriminately in the forest.

A Juggernaut landed right in front of the shocked San Magnolians, the guns were still smoking hot. On its cockpit was painted an eye in a green background to symbolise the pilot's personal name: Cyclops.

"Captain Tilmann, this is Major Milizé, sorry for being late, we've encountered some resistance along the way."

A gentle but unwavering female voice echoed in their Para-Raid. Even the usual stone-cold Korpsman captain was slightly surprised but replied, nonetheless.

"Understood, Major Milizé. I'll be relocating my squadron to sector 1-Alpha Sub-8. Do you have this sector under control?"

"Yes, captain. We'll handle it from here." Milizé replied confidently.

With a nod, Captain Tilmann and his Death Riders galloped to another sector of the frontline, leaving the stunned San Magnolians under the care of the Eighty-Six squadron.

"Sir… was that-"

"Yes." The platoon commander replied dryly, staring at the Juggernaut before him with contempt and disgust. "These pigs shouldn't be here. Thinking the glory's all theirs."

"Oi!" Cyclops exclaimed heatedly, "I can fucking hear you! You should be grateful or else you would be Legion food."

"That's enough, Cyclops." Lena sighed exasperatedly behind her command-and-control screens.

"What? I'm spitting facts here! These ingrateful white pig-"

"Shiden!" The squadron's deputy, Shana Aya, chastised her sternly.

"Ah! S-sorry, Major…"

Lena smiled tiredly, silently thanking Aya for her timely intervention. "It's alright, I'm used to it. Anyways, set up patrols around the tank until the mechanics can recover it. Once we're done, return to base and we'll debrief later. Clear?"

"Crystal clear, Major. Alright, you heard our Majesty! I want two-vics patrols in a spread-out formation. Double time!"

Lena's smile widened with Shiden's boisterous and eccentric command. Why the members of the Brisingamen Squadron have adopted her as their "queen" was a mystery to her. The squadron, while relatively young in service, boasted the lowest casualty rates despite already having over five dozen combat operation under their belts. They were to replace Sledgehammer Squadron after they've suffered over forty percent fatalities.

Milizé glanced at her watch. In about one hour, there'll be a general briefing for all Handlers conducted by General-Governor Karlstahl himself. With the shifting of units on certain sectors of the frontline and an emphasis on scorched earth tactics, the young officer has a faint idea that a major change in strategy is underway.

Little did she know that the new strategy will force her to sacrifice the Gran Mur, her squadron and possibly her own country.