Caccia Scinia's Story

A man quickly made his way through the halls of the Artison Of Dawn. He was wearing a red bandana, flak vest, and combat pants which closely resembled the uniforms the Catachan Devils used, although recolored to fit the 501st Hendrisi Deadland colors. He was late for the assigned meeting time since being part of a more organized regiment, and the fact that he was still getting used to not getting killed by plants that can tear down structures alongside creatures that could tear a man apart.

Thankully he had gathered all his equipment before rushing down the halls or else he would be in deeper trouble, and to top it all they had a commissar with them. He was not sure if he was going to be executed right on the spot which would be a sad way to go, he had survived murderious plants that shot spikes that could turn you into a plant, plants that spewed poison, plants that created acidic sticky goo, survived creatures and he would go tell the emperor he died for being late for a small gathering.

He then made it to the room they where all supposed to gather to and got in formation, "Caccia Scinia reporting for duty commissar!" He then gave a salute but made sure to mask all signs of nervousness and to keep a straight face lest he upset the person that has the power to kill anyone that lacks resolve in battle.

[b]A short being walks through the doors holding a map of the ship in his hand, dripping wet from his last high priority mission and a sniper strapped to his back tightly that was almost as big as him. He looks at everyone, his hood from his tan cloak was up and the lighting made it difficult to identify his face. He walks through the crowd of people to find a nice spot in front, then sets his sniper against the briefing table. He was so quiet that you wouldn't have noticed his presence if he didn't use the door.

Alex waited to be briefed on his mission until he realized he had his hood on and lowered it to reveal he was a ratling with his war paint design on his face. He then looked up at everyone as they paid attention to the officers and wondered what their stories were and how they got into this mess that he himself got into.

The Commissar dropped her arms to her sides before Caccia arrived. She quickly returned his salute, if only to get everyone in the room to stop wasting time with the flumadiddle of regulation so their briefing could get underway.

The Battle-Priest was rather uncomfortable with the display Touron made. He was used to the mixed bag of reactions his robes caused, from awe to fear, but he felt wrong having someone honor him when he was only the voice of the Emperor. But rather than show his discomfort, Simon simply nodded and finished the prayer with him. "Good morning." He had failed to meet with the man personally, despite an acute interest.
Shortly thereafter, a renegade, a sniper, and their resident psyker entered the room. Simon, glad to leave the center of the room and any focus of attention, decided to introduce himself formally to Belva Clarette. The unfortunatecy of having been assigned to the 501st so recently was that he had hardly any time to actually meet his squad between transferring his equipment, giving sermons, and getting accustomed to the new ship.
Simon sat beside her. Under normal conditions he'd introduce himself and ask for permission, but they weren't civilians. "Good morning, Psyker." He nodded politely, flamer across his lap as casually as a sleeping poodle.

The Commissar preferred standing to sitting, and chose to do so while she waiting for their briefing. She crossed her arms, shifted her weight to one foot, and watched the occupants of the room without moving her eyes. While she didn't pay mind to it, it was easy to see she was the tallest in the squad by a whole foot. Her ankles at that particular moment hurt from hanging over the edge of her bed all night. "Is everyone here?"

Sergeant Solar looked around at the room; members from other squads were linking up with their own, and his group was quickly growing as well. Briefings must have all ended at about the same time, and everyone was rushing in. He elected to ignore the Priest's questions until he could give a proper briefing of his own; unlike the Commander, Quin did not like to repeat himself.

But what a bloody circus his squad was. He decided it best to let the Commissar do her job while he tried to bring the squad under a proper form of control. The first matter at hand was dealing with Icarus.

"Sergeant Toroun," he stated pleasantly, his voice rough with many years of shouting himself hoarse. "I reckon we should get it out of the way now; unless they plan on splitting us into two squads, I'll have you operating as my second in command." He didn't know much about Eccelasians, but he knew they were devout, zealous, and proud. Hopefully there wouldn't be any problems.

Following that he peered around at the rest. A Catachan trooper had joined them, as had a Ratling- trying not to be noticed he thought, and so maybe not an official attachment- and a bloody Psyker.

"Feth," he rumbled under his breath, using an adopted curse from another regiment. "Building us up like a damn Command squad or something." He focused his attention on the Psyker.

"Psyker," he began. "We're pleased to have you aboard. I don't suppose you've got an attache?" 'Pleased' may have been a strong word for it, but it would be good regardless. He nodded to the Priest sitting next to her, indicating he had finally acknowledged his inquiry and leaving it at that.

Then he looked to the Commissar. "I bloody well hope so. Still, units are still filtering in, so I'll wait a moment longer before I get us in formation for squad briefing."

So far he had a tally of eleven troops and specialists, counting himself. The liklihood of more was slim, but if there were he would absolutely be splitting the squad in two. Especially given how many specialists they'd been assigned.


For their part the two rookies had finally lowered their arms, and were now watching in awe at the veritable circus of strangers from other worlds filtering in. They had slowly made their way closer to the Commissar; not because they liked her or her position particularly, but she was the largest figure in the room and it comforted them to be near someone who would draw more attention.

Grim watched as more soldiers filed in from different places and briefings. ‘Quite a ragtag squad. Glad I don’t have to lead it.’ He mused to himself. He stood behind Bottles, arms crossed, knowing his position made Derek nervous. He kept turning around to look at Grim from his position sitting on a box.

“Keep giving me that look Bottles, and I will give you over to the Commissar.” Bottles reluctantly resumed observing squad. He kept glancing between the female Psyker, and the Ratling. Grim could see the question forming on his lips and said, “Don’t bother.”

Derek spun around this time, “You don’t-“

“Yes, I do. Drop it.” Grim interrupted. Doing a quick once over, he saw that he was almost completely clean. Derek had wiped himself down and looked presentable as well, though he had missed a couple grease marks on his chest.

“Believe me, it’s not worth the trouble and it shows your inexperience.” Grim muttered to Derek.

“But she’s-” Derek started. The las-gun on Grim’s shoulder perked up, and Bottles swallowed the rest of his sentence.

“Yes, she is, but that isn’t our problem at the moment. Besides, they wouldn’t allow her unless Command thought she was fit for duty.”

Derek nodded, and turned back to the briefing. “If we get split into two squads-“

“I’d still be stuck with you.” Extending the Mechadendrite, Grim be tinkered with it quickly before returning it to its position on his shoulder and re-crossed his arms.

“Do you think she really shot that soldier?” Derek said, indicating the Commissar as he and Grim saluted the sergeant.

Grim grinned, “Why don’t you go ask her?”

“I’m not stupid.” Derek huffed. He crossed his arms, unconsciously mirroring Grim.

Grim snorted, and put on a neutral face. “At least, not that much.” Derek said.

Icarus Toroun

As more of the squad members filed in and conversations continued in their wait, Icarus was more than surprised that Solar had chosen to make him the second in command for the squad. While the malcontent of his new regiment was more than noticeable, he supposed that even a Hendrisian would overlook differences for the good of the mission. It was no pride on his part to bow his head to Solar and accept the position, not that he had a choice in the matter, but as he expected another of the squad members chipped in their say of disapproval. It was of course the other NCO, the commissar woman, who showed displeasure at his appointment.

He turned his attention and ears to the other people in the room, listening in on their conversations. To distract his body from shifting around too much, he unclips his knife from its sheeth on his hip and inspects it. He begins grinding it against a metal plate sown into the armor on the back of his forearm to sharpen it and adds the unease of the scrapping sound to the room. He only stops sharpening the knife when Solar speaks up and begins the briefing. Just to make sure he gets the most out of the material he takes his communicator out of his left ear and lets it hang over his shoulder to make sure he is not interrupted by a surprise broadcast.

As he stood there, Icarus mentally compared each and every soldier and support unit in the room. He tried to figure out what the best strategy would be to best utilize all of their skills and experience into a combat situation. It was something he often did even in the midst of low stress combat so he would be better prepared to command or fight along side these soldiers when it would be needed most. It was also one of the reasons he had survived so long. For this particular lot, distraction and fire support would be one of the best plans against large packs of enemy orks, and he knew all too well the little green buggers loved to stick in large groups.

'Well damn,' Quin thought to himself, watching the Psyker walk away without answering him. 'I should probably learn her name before addressing her.' He frowned at himself for his lack of tact, especially when dealing with someone who could obliterate them all at the drop of a hat.

He decided it wise to address the Commissar's concerns quickly as well, facing a similar powder-keg to the Psyker. "Of course, Commissar. We'll be certain to address your opinion of tactical situations, conditions permitting." Quin was hard-pressed to make sure he didn't sound condescending, or patronizing. He legitimately wanted her to know he appreciated her previous experience, even if he was terrified what that might entail for him if he ever disagreed. He was also careful to ensure that by saying we, Sergeant Toroun was accountable as well.

But for the moment he had been saved from further scrutiny by the mission orders. He could hear the other Sergeants and squad leaders beginning their briefings, and figured he was ready as well.

Ignoring the burble of his squad around him, Quin took a data-slate from his belt. Sure enough the orders were listed, as well as brief details of everyone in his squad.

"Alright Squad," Quin started, breaking his relative silence with a power on his tone. "I want everyone to form a line. Let me look at the rabble Command has seen fit to set at my disposal!" He threw his gaze around, waiting for everyone to get in line; with a quickness. Two Sergeants and a Commissar should instill a great deal of fear in a man, rookie or no.

Troopers Augustus Jorn and Kyrus Darrien had formed up in the line, same as the others; this seemed to be their element, doing as they were told, being in formation, and preparing to give their lives for the Emperor.

One could only hope they served that purpose well.


---------

"Let me begin by introducing myself to those unfamiliar with me. I am Sergeant Quin Solar, of Osprey Squad. The sole surviving member of said squad, as it happens." He grimaced, looking around at the group. "But today we're not fighting Tyranids, for which I am thankful, at least. Today we're fighting the most common and hated of enemies to the Imperium of Man; Orks."

He took a moment to browse his data-slate. "Standing with me is Commissar Cassandra Rascal. She'll be attached to our squad to ensure that we function cohesively as a team." He didn't feel the need to say what would happen if they failed to meet that requirement; even the most green recruit knew what a Commissar was meant to do in the face of failure.

Quin then gestured to Icarus, who would presumably be standing at the front 'end' of the line. "Sergeant Icarus Toroun," he continued, "Will be acting as official second in command in the event of my death, a necessity to split the squad into fireteams, or if Commissar Rascal sees fit."

"Belva Clarette," he said, looking around for the Psyker woman; hopefully finding her hovering somewhere behind the line, as befitting her function. "Is a Psyker. For those among you who don't know, she is to be protected as high-priority. Be mindful and treat her with care." He paused for a moment, ensuring he did not sound unsettled at the prospect. "Trooper Augustus Jorn, it will be your specific duty to ensure she remains alive and well," he said, pointing out the youthful-looking soldier. He flashed the Aquila in response, albeit without the full gusto he may have given a more appealing order.

"Father Simon Yates is our resident Priest." Quin was more or less deadpan with this delivery, having shifted to it directly from an order. "Trust and honour him and he will guide us with the Emperor's Light."

"Lastly we have the Techpriest, Lucretia Godwinne, who will be ensuring that our special equipment and any vehicles we find remain intact and properly functioning." He did not point out said Techpriest; he would be obvious enough, with his mechadendrite and significant augmentation.

Quin paused again, taking a moment to read from his data-slate. "That is all we have in the terms of specialists and commanders. The rest of the squad is filled out by Troopers Augustus Jorn, Kyrus Darrien, Derrek Pen, Alex Elashne, and Caccia Scinia." Quin's face twisted slightly in disappointment; the squad was over half specialists and commanders, after a fashion. He continued reading into the briefing, and eventually sighed.

"Now, on to the briefing," he carried on, scarcely allowing the troops time to think about breaking line.

"The 501st will be descending planet-side shortly. We will be dropping through the atmosphere with Valkyrie armoured transports, where we will be subject to acrid smoke from nearby volcanic activity, and possibly enemy anti-aircraft fire."

"From that point we will jump from our aircraft and begin descend via Grav-chute into a former mining colony. The area is expected to be under Orkish control, judging by the amount of modification to structures and geography that the area has undergone. Most of the 501st will be making ground-fall in or nearby to known Anti-Aircraft positions, in the hopes that they can be taken out. Anyone that fails to make their drop points, or finds them relocated or otherwise does not land in one, will be expected to hunt down and eliminate any fortified positions."

"After this point, the area will be considered under Imperial control and can be made into a temporary base of operations, from which further drop missions may take place."

Quin placed the data-slate back on his belt, and turned to open the footlocker at his personal bunk- similar to all the others, but in this case filled with his kit.

"The Grav-chute mentioned is this," he explains, taking a large device from the locker. Folded up, it was about the size of a Vox-pack, but after unfolding it and strapping himself to it, it was shown to be less bulky; a power unit with two 'wings', each with a low impulse grav thruster attached.

"These allow an un-assisted descent to be considerably less fatal. Aside from that, they'll allow a soldier to make slightly higher jumps. This planet is possessed of a higher than normal gravity, and so our landing is still probably going to hurt. Each of you will of course be issued one, and given a brief crash-course on proper use."

Next, he pulled a long cloak, and a skin-tight black suit out of his locker. The cloak at the moment was black; but a close eye would indicate that it shifted slightly to match the background of Sergeant Solar's grey-red uniform.

"This suit is a survival suit, and again each of you was issued one upon entering the 501st's care. This is what will allow us to survive the descent, and the volcanic landscape itself, with anything approaching comfort. It is in essence a temperature regulating measure, as well as a sweat reconstitution device. As with all of your kit, you are expected to treat it well, as it will save your life."

He placed the suit on his bunk, then flashed the cloak. "And this is a Chameleoline Cloak. The Techpriest could tell you more about how it works probably, but all I can tell you is exactly what it's good for; blending you into your surroundings."

Quin threw that on the bed as well, and then crossed his arms. "We have about an hour before we need to be on dropships. Get your kit and get properly suited up, and I'll be meeting you there."

He looked to the Commissar briefly, to ensure she did not have anything to add; and then to the Priest, in case he wanted to say anything inspiring- and lastly to the other Sergeant, seeing as he would be official second in command.

"Dismissed," Sergeant Solar declared, once he was certain there were no more words to say. If the grunts had anything they wanted from him, they could catch him as he made his way to the door.

Icarus Toroun

Icarus listened to the briefing on their next mission, taking in as much information as he could before they were dismissed. He expected the area they were dropping into would be hot with orks, but flying right on top of the anti-aircraft guns would be near suicide. Either way, it was not up to him. All he had to do was survive until he got to the surface and hopefully not get scattered around in the wind and separated from the rest of the squad.

As soon as they were dismissed Icarus left the room along with everyone else and went to his quarters in order to get ready for the drop. He knew what he needed, the under armor suit and the grav-chute and the rest of his equipment. Strapping his Las-gun onto his back and checking all his straps one last time, he was finally ready and headed for the hanger. It was not hard to ask around for which Valkyrie would be taking them down to the planet and stood outside the back end as he corrected a few errors the repair personnel had made. He would hate for something on the airship to go wrong before they even left orbit.

He waited for the rest of the squad to show up and in the meantime spoke to some of the other squads waiting next to nearby Valkyries and made idle chatter. He learned more about the Hendrisi regiment and their ideals, their history and of course how they felt about other regiments being added into their own. At the last subject they seemed uneasy since Icarus himself was from another squad, but eventually he convinced them to say their piece, which was of course a negative response to the other regiments. Laughing Icarus put them at ease with a joke about how he did not like the situation either. He thought that now the Hendrisians wouldn't be so silent around him.

As other members of his assigned squad started to arrive he moved back over to their Valkyrie and hung out around the back. "Form a line next to me, and wait for Sergeant Solar to arrive. You are at ease until then." He had to repeat this to each person who came in as they arrived until either the Commissar or Solar showed up. He did not wish to give out orders with Solar there, nor did he want the Commissar getting snappy with him.

After the Sergeant had left the room, the rest of the squad milled about taking whatever last rites they felt necessary before the drop. Both Troopers Jorn and Darrien had remained, being both familiar with the procedures of planetary drop, and already having most of their equipment on-hand.

Both troopers were pleased enough that the Commissar had not selected them for the chewing out; it was never something that was pleasant. Regardless, once the briefing was over, an air of camaraderie with those present became noticeable; it was a funny thing, getting to know people moments before either you or them were probably about to die.

Augustus Jorn had been preparing to greet his 'charge', the Psyker Belva; unfortunately for him, she was removed from the situation by the discomforting presence of the Ratling.

If he was honest with himself he hadn't noticed the loathsome little creature until that moment, but that didn't change the fact he was more than a little annoyed. "Oi," he called, directed towards Alex.
"What's the idea, bothering her? Didn't you pay attention to the briefing? She's a bloody Psyker, and her name is Belva Clarette." He frowned at the Ratling and shook his head. "You try to pickpocket her or anything like that and you'll have my gun down your throat before you can say 'Snatched', got it?" The man's inexperience was matched only by Alex's seemingly similar disposition, and so he felt justified in talking down to the abhuman.

With his threat in the open, Augustus strode off to prepare for the drop.

Kyrus was gathering items from his bunk; unlike the fresh-faced Augustus, Kyrus seemed to have some years under his belt at least, even if it wasn't spent as a soldier. In response to the Commissar's muted musings, he shrugged. He then realized this was perhaps an official inquiry coming from an officer, and stood erect. "I do not know, Commissar. This will be my first official drop, Commissar. I would assume weapon maintenance, as dictated per the Primer, Commissar." After this he paused for a moment, then cleared his throat.

"As designated Vox-trooper, I should go and ensure that my kit is at one-hundred-percent efficiency, Commissar. Thank you, Commissar." He then flashed the full Aquila, both hands crossed over his chest and his fingers splayed out, like wings. And then he departed quickly.

The rest of the squads in the barracks began departing to their own preparations, and a ship-wide alert would be heard;
"All Guardsmen, planetary drop will be proceeding in half an hour."


Artisan of War, Imperial Warship; 2nd Company Launch Bay
3530 Arawathan Time: 30 Minutes to Midnight


It was a strange mood in the launch bays. Lines of 2nd Company Valkyries were prepared to dock with the considerably larger Devourer dropships that would bring them into the atmosphere; and from there, disembark again and beging the flight run.

The soldiers were busy speaking with one another; getting to know their new companions. For the most part it was an uncomfortable air, many of the recent recruits were either completely green, or had never been on a drop before. Either way, Death Worlders do not make the most comforting companions, and so it was a tense and dire feeling that permeated the room.

Solar Squad, as it was called due to its Sergeant, was setting up near their designated Valkyrie. The Imperial Navy Pilot of the craft was performing initial cold checks, and Icarus was standing by with the two Troopers. Both were fully kitted out, aside from their Chameloline cloaks, which they had opted to don after landing, to spare them the ash clouds.

Kyrus was wearing a large vox-pack on his chest, due to the grav-chute on his back. The Vox-pack meant he would likely be near the Sergeant at all times, in order to ensure the chain of command was not broken, and communications would remain intact.

Augustus, meanwhile, was wearing a considerably larger grav-chute than the others, with four impulse nozzles instead of the normal two. The conspicuous barding on the front would imply that it was meant to be occupied by two.

When Sergeant Solar arrived, both of the Troopers saluted him with precision. "Stand-by, gentlemen," he rumbled. He'd keep them at attention until the rest of the Squad arrived. If the rest of the party was late, he'd keep them at attention until it was time to jump.


When the rest of the unit had arrived- the Support Specialists, Caccia, Alex, and Bottles, there was another member with the group as well; a veteran soldier of the 501st. He introduced himself as Praetus Nicodemus, and saluted the Sergeant before moving into position with the others.

"Ma'am," Augustus said to Belva, flashing her an Aquila. "As your assigned protector, I took the liberty of requisitioning a higher impulse Grav-chute, in case you were not comfortable attempting landing on your own." He more or less left it at that; he had the device, and was going to go down with it regardless of her option.


Everyone would have been given the basic training necessary to utilize the grav-chutes. The gist of the training was essentially; Don't turn it on until you've got your legs facing down, or you'll just accelerate ground-side. Aside from that there was not much to say about the assault until it was time. Sergeant Solar was kind enough to offer stimulants or nerve stabilizers for those who had never been on a drop before; which was most outside of the 501st at this point, and even then most of the new Guardsmen accepted some.

Ten minutes before launch, the Valkyries were loaded into the Devourer dropships, and the comparative darkness of the two decks filled with Valkyries settled in.

Darkness and the sounds of powerful engines roaring to life.

Twelve minutes of this, and then planetary entry turbulance, a familiar feeling for every soldier. As it abated, Sergeant Solar, who was sitting near the back of the Valkyrie, stood up and looked towards the eleven soldiers, specialists, and officers in the Valkyrie.

"Pre-mission check," he bellowed.
"Comm-beads," he stated as an inquiry, tapping his and ensuring that each soldier spoke to verbally verify its activity.
"Respirators on," he commanded, pulling his up and setting it on his face; each was in essence a full face mask.
"Test fire Grav-chutes." The soft thrumming of their packs would reverberate through the hull; around them, the soldiers would hear the other Valkyrie squads going through similar procedures.
"Weapons checks!" Each Guardsman was expected to keep their firearms at the ready the moment combat became a possibility. As soon as the Valkyries broke free of the dark hulks that were the Devourer dropships, they could potentially come under Ork fire.

For better or worse that moment came very quickly. A loud grinding sound erupted from an overhead array, and the exterior bay doors began to recede into the walls. Immediately ash and heat bombarded the Valkyries, and their occupants; these Valkyries had no closing doors, no mounted weapons, and only the bare minimum of armor. Speed was their strong suit; speed and the ability to operate in the hostile conditions to which they were about to be subjected.

The roar of the dropship's engines were then rivaled by those of the Valkyries, lifting off from two decks and speeding out either side of the behemoth vessel. They were above the largest of the ash clouds, and so there was no visibility and no Ork fire.

Within moments they were airborne and moving through the sky. Hundreds of other Valkyries would be seen flanking their own; from behind, the five Devourers that had delivered each Company were dispensing the ships, and beginning to make their way back space-ward.

Despite the darkness, their eyes would acclimatize quickly; not that there was anything to see. The Valkyries were slowly descending towards the immense sea of ash below; others within visibility had already fallen into the clouds.

Soon it was their turn. Falling through the ashes was no small feat, and more akin to submerging into a liquid environment with how thick it was. Darkness was absolute in the cloud, and the sounds of screaming winds and the dull thrums of the Valkyrie engines leaving them isolated from the rest of the world.

The loud 'thra-koom' of a detonation could be heard from below. Scattered, bright tracers zipped through the clouds, briefly illuminating other Valkyries making their descent. They were at a slight angle, using the clouds to get as close to above the target locations without passing overhead as possible.

And then their Valkyrie passed through the cloud; spotlights and fires were visible below, as well as the outlines of the immense structures of their targets. When more and more Valkyrie craft became visible, the volume of fire coming to meet them increased as well; and the source of the immense explosion from before could be seen, as a large plume of smoke and flame rose from the north-most part of the complex.

In a few moments a huge ball of flame and metal flew past the fleet of Valkyries, revealing them just as the spotlights.

Rockets and large shells flew up to meet the invasion. The Orks were well prepared, but not well enough, as few of the craft were actually hit at this altitude.

"Be prepared to jump on my command," Solar shouted.

Icarus Toroun

Icarus was pulled out of his own thoughts by the yelling complaints of the Commissar. Her loud voice pierced his mental images like flames in the darkness. He opened his eyes and found her yelling her way across the hanger. She did not just reprimand him however, it was the whole squad as well. Her words however blamed him for their issues. He only had one reaction, which he saved for after she had finished her rantings. He laughed, not too loudly but enough to be heard by the squad. It was a friendly one and seemed almost like an acceptance of the Commissar's words instead of anything insulting.

As soon as Solar and the last members of the squad arrived Icarus took his place in the Valkyrie, directly across from the Commissar no less. He almost smiled but contained himself for the moment. As the darkness closed in, Toroun became at piece once again. The fly down from orbit made his mind focus on the task at hand. He was almost an entirely different person on the battlefield and it was starting to turn over in his skull. He followed the pre-drop check and spoke when required, moved where and when required for it, almost like he was hypnotized into the act.

After the cleric finished his mid-flight sermon Icarus called out the regular response of his regiment with: "For His Shining Light." It wasn't very loud, but the lack of anyone else responding likewise gave Icarus a small amount of homesickness for his old regiment. That was soon swept away however as the orbital ship's bay doors slid open and the Valkyrie's began to disembark. Looking out at the landscape it seemed much like the interior of his home planet. Ash filled, desolate and filled with dangers. He waited for the first shots to be fired, and as they started to sound off from below he fully entered his combat mentality.

He got ready to jump out by unharnessing himself from the Valkyrie so he was no longer attached to the inside of the airship and hung onto a support bar above his head as he leaned towards the opening, ready to dive out at a moments notice but still in his place and not obstructing those around him.

Caccia was onboard the Valkyrie listening to the explosions happening around them. They were lucky they haven't blown up from the Ork anti-air, was it just the design of ork weaponry? Or was it the intervention of the emperor himself? Whatever the case we are the Imperial Guard, no matter how many men we lose we just keep coming until either we or the enemy are defeated.

As the Valkyrie was at a low altitude he heard the sergeant shouting to get ready on his command, he then unharnessed himself from the Valkyrie, attached the grav chute to his back, and pumped his shotgun before gripping the support bar ready to jump. His guess was as good as anyone's, the Orks would be itching for a fight and they would be swarmed when they hit the ground. There would be choppa boyz, shoota boyz, stormboyz, nobz, mega armored nobz, flash gitz, kommandos, looted tanks, squigoths, wartrukks, maybe some mekboyz, maybe a warboss, weirdboyz, and the oh so horrible gretchen. The last one was just a minor nuisance but everything else on his list was a danger and he prayed to the emperor they would last through this mission.

It was a matter of fact that the term 'Orkish Aim' was something of an oxymoron. Indeed, for the majority of Orks shooting a weapon was simply an act to make noise, with the occasionally pleasant side-effect of blowing apart someone's limbs, or in this case, making an aircraft explode into a cloud of smoke, debris, and body parts.

As soon as the weapons fire began flying towards them, the fleet of Valkyries had started to make a sharper descent. The volume of fire had increased dramatically, so much so that even with their large spacing and relatively small targets, there were plenty of hits to be observed from the sides and back of the squad's Valkyrie.

Another huge ball of flame and metal flew skyward, arcing majestically and tumbling back towards the earth below.

"We have interceptors approaching," the pilot relayed, "And we are at critical velocity."

It was at this point that Sergeant Solar nodded and marched to the open end of the craft. "Guardsmen," he bellowed.

"Now is the time! Make the Emperor proud, do not let Him find you wanting! I will see you on the ground!"

With that, he leapt out the back of the craft, aimed himself towards the ground, and fell out of sight- even though the Valkyrie was making a sloping descent, the Guard would be dropping in a more direct route.

Augustus was intent to wait until Belva had jumped, ensuring that he could stay within relative proximity of her during the drop.

Kyrus would be jumping last; with the Vox-pack under his care, he wanted to try and ensure he landed in a relatively secure position.



Once the Guard had begun loosing themselves from their Valkyries, they would see the scene below with relative clarity. Now fully through the major ash clouds, the spotlights and scattered flashes of weapons fire below would be quite visible- and there was a huge volume of weapons flashes.

The act of descending through mass quantities of fire is never something one relishes, much less when your best form of protection is an ablative vest that works best against low velocity ammunition, as some of the Guardsmen were wearing. Despite this, the casualties were relatively low; every so often a Guardsman could be seen taking an Ork slug or anti-aircraft shell, and this would usually result in him flying wildly off course, or just detonating.

Solar Squad, what they could see of one another, was relatively untouched.

That is, until the Tank showed up.

It happened to be the case that the massive chunks of flame and slag metal were the failed attempts of some form of Orkish artillery. Whatever the case may have been, they had perfected the design, and were now lobbing entire tanks with mass quantities of explosives up at the invaders. At least this explained the immense explosions below.

Of course not many survived, but the fact of the matter was that an armoured platform covered in Orks and armed with heavy weaponry was rapidly approaching the falling mass of Infantry, and this was generally to be considered in poor taste for survival.

To make matters worse, the volume of fire not only seemed to increase, but the Orks had begun to launch StormBoyz up into the fray as well.

Stormboyz, for the uninitiated, strapped large rockets to their back to simulate guided flight. Usually armed with huge pistols and blades, they could quickly ruin an infantryman's day.

They say a plan seldom survives first contact with the enemy. So it was that battle would first be joined; mid-air collision.

After hearing the sergeant shout, Caccia jumped out of the Valkyrie and activated his grav chute. He looked down and saw the green horde below getting ready for the invaders, and to make matters worse they lost a lot of men trying to make it to the ground. He could consider himself lucky to not be blown apart in the air or get his grav chute hit then veer straight to the ground and explode.

He was close to the ground now and saw an ork tank moving in position, now he realy regretted not bringing a Melta-gun or some krak grenades, he dosent even know if his allies have any anti-vheicle weapons or equipment on them. While he was rambling on in his mind while trying to find a area to safely land and take cover, a storm boy came flying in his direction all the while yelling and waving his blade at him, to counter this threat he aimed his shotgun at the orks head and just as he got in effective range, "BANG!" The orks head vanished in a sea of red mist and gibs, causing its limp body to crash into the ground and causing his rocket strapped on his back to explode from the impact.

It was no time to relax yet, he still had to get a move on and avoid the gunfire from bellow but that was just the beginning of his trouble. More stormboyz began to fly high into the air trying to intercept us, or at the very least crash and possibly break every bone in the poor sap that gets hit by them and have a gaping hole through your body. He pumped his shotgun again and took out the next stormboy that flew close enough to him all the while avoiding the gunfire from below and narrowly avoided a shot that could have took out his grav chute.

Icarus Toroun

As the order went out to jump, Icarus watched Solar fall from the Valkyrie as well as the next couple soldiers in front of him go for the exit as soon as possible. If only they had the experience to know what lay on the outside. Icarus jumped out of the Valkyrie right in front of the Psyker, diving into the atmosphere with a battle cry. A welcome sight met his eyes, uncountable weapon discharges coming up to meet his planet-side decent. He got to work picking out targets immediately, knowing what the orks would send at them. The StormBoyz were expected, but for Icarus the tank was a welcome new addition to the types of ammunition the orks sent against drop units.

Streamlining his body towards the tank, Icarus used his grav-chutes to slow himself just a little as he took one of his frak-grenades and held it by it's pin in his hand. When he got close enough to the tank, he hucked the grenade at one of the portals in the tank and continued falling. He got a satisfying boost in speed from the concussive wave of the explosion he had created above him. But now he had a problem, that fiery wreak of a tank was falling directly on top of Icarus, faster than he was falling.

He had to spin out of the tanks path as it fell and he let out a phrase of scripture in the Emperor's favor as a salute to the death of the ork armor. He had more problems coming his way, mainly more StormBoyz which he had to dodge around and occasionally he would shoot one of their rockets out of balance with his las-pistol which would cause a smaller yet equally satisfying explosion when compared to the tank. It took several minutes of straight falling until Icarus even thought about the ground and considered when he would have to start slowing his decent.

Because he had used his falling speed as a tool to avoid the orks he got to the ground faster than some of his fellow squad members, but he was able to use his grav-chutes to slow his fall and hit the ground with just enough force to flatten him to the earth without any major injuries. A scrap or two here and there but nothing broken or punctured. His landing sent up a cloud of dust and ash which obscured his vision. Ditching his grav-chute in the crater he had landed in for the moment he laid down prone peeking over the edge of the crater lip with his lasgun ready as he scanned the area for hostiles or friendlies. He spoke into his comm-link to the rest of his squad. "Thunder has struck, ground-fall achieved."

Airborne
Planet Arawath

The process of falling amidst enemy fire was one thing. Falling through self-propelled enemy forces was entirely another.

Around the squad, other elements of the 501st were being engaged by the Ork Stormboyz, being slashed, chopped, or simply impacted and taken out of the fight in a permanent fashion. The lucky ones were merely torn apart by large fusillades of Ork slugs, or blown into pieces by some manner of Orkish artillery.


Father Yates would see little trouble on his descent; using the sword as a defensive measure, the Ork that passed close to him would have one of its few navigation wings sheared off, sending it careening in an altogether different direction. The Ork likely did not notice, but it got it out of Yates' hair.

Cassandra would be significantly less lucky.
The occupants, or rather riders of the tank had not missed her passing, and a barrage of large bullets trailed her 'controlled' descent towards the ground. With deep-voiced shouts and calls, three of them had jumped off of the tank and followed her down, firing wildly and hefting their large chopping implements with deadly intent.
None of them had the large rockets attached to their backs, like some of their brethren; apparently they were so intent on destroying the Commissar that they were willing to accept the deaths that awaited them inevitably. Whether she was ready for them, and if she could slow herself enough to make a less-than-messy impact to the ground or nearby structures, remained to be seen.

Behind the Orks and Cassandra, Sergeant Icarus flew down like a bullet; passing the Tank and tossing his Krak grenade into it, the detonation wreaked havoc with its trajectory and the livelihood of its passengers. Wheeling through the sky in a roll, the few Orks left on it, plus the turrets, continued to fire in every direction. Chunks flew off like shrapnel and a few unlucky Orks or Guardsmen saw their end by a rather gruesome impact.


Following his dispatch of one of the Orks, Caccia would find himself facing down another pair of Stormboyz surging towards him from below. Both opened fire with their handguns and raised their weapons in preparation to destroy him.


Using the greater mobility provided by having a stronger Grav-chute, Trooper Jorn was able to remain in relative proximity of Belva. He took pot-shots here or there, but for the most part these were ineffectual.
He did ensure to shoot the now pack-less Ork on its way down, however.
Despite their relative positioning to the Tank and the swarm of Orks around it, both were able to proceed down with little trouble.


Grim and Derek had perhaps the most interesting time on their way down, aside from Cassandra.
Being a larger, more curious target for many of the Orks, they saw a lot of attention; multiple shots flying around them or at them, and more than a few Stormboyz decided they wanted to try and break the beast with two backs, as it were.
Despite these attempts the two were doing remarkably well, in part due to the erratic piloting of Derek, matched only by the similarly erratic lack of piloting the Orks portrayed.


"Thunder has struck, ground-fall achieved," spoke the somewhat familiar voice of Sergeant Icarus.

"Pilgrim," shouted the also familiar voice of Sergeant Solar. "You've hit land early; most of us are still engaged in the air," he warned.
"I need people on the rooftops or in openings on the structures flanking Landing Site Alpha," Solar continued; this would presumably be the area they were all landing around. "Give our early landers some fire support!"



Ground-side
Planet Arawath

Sergeant Icarus was not the only one to land early; by virtue or necessity, some other members of the 501st had reached the ground quickly as well, and found themselves badly outnumbered.

Situated in an area designated as 'near to Alpha' officially speaking, Icarus and several other Guardsmen had taken up positions behind a downed Valkyrie and some other convenient positions of cover, such as detritus from the damaged structures around them.

The complex itself was massive, with most of the structures being tens of stories high. The road they had landed on was very wide, and multiple pieces of industrial equipment- torn apart by the Orks for parts, most likely- littered the area.

More pressing than the environment were the Orks however. The shout of "WAAAAAAGH!" filled the dark, hot air around them, as a hail of large shells pounded the cover around the defenders.

Icarus would be able to hear the rumbling approach of many heavy feet, despite the grenade and suppressing fire; while some of the Orks took hits, and a few may have even gone down, there was a green tide approaching.

Icarus Toroun

The suppressed Sergeant listened to his radio as Solar gave him new orders. Looking around his position he could hear the orks getting closer about to flank his position and over run his cover. The few soldiers scattered around him were not in a much better place than him. Icarus looked at a building in between him and Alpha site. "501st, garrison that building! Regroup inside and put up a defensive fire line inside! Move, now!"

Icarus popped a smoke grenade at the orks front line and ran for the building. He did not even want to look back to see if the other soldiers were following him or if the orks were still coming through the smoke. Using the butt of his lasgun to smash in the front door, Icarus started barricading the interior with tables and benches or any other large objects he could find. Once the rest of the surviving 501st entered the building Icarus opened up the staircase and checked his gear. "I will need at least two of you for a fire support squad on the roof. Anti-armor weapons would be great. The rest of you hold the orks down here."

He did not wait for a response and headed up the stairs to the roof and moved around to view the Alpha site. He took up a firing position and started laying down suppressing fire on any orks he could see threatening the landing zone. Anyone else who came with him he directed to either watch for armor or aircraft if they had weapons useful against them, otherwise they would line up against the edge of the building alongside Icarus.

As Caccia kept decending to the ground, another pair of stormboyz flew to him with their weapons raised while firing their pistols. The bullets harmlessly wizz past him with accuracy so bad they wouldn't even hit the side of a baneblade in close range, but what worried him was that they were both coming to him at the same time, he would have time to blast one of them in the face but not enough time to pump his shotgun to get the second shot in.

In realization of his situation he unseathed his knife from his waist and held it in his left hand before aiming the shotgun at the stormboy closest to him. As the ork got in effective range he pulled the trigger causing the first orks head to become nothing but a bloody pulp, afterwards he readied his knife for the second ork. Sure orks have the advantage in pure strength when it came to close quarters fighting, but he had another idea in mind.

Just as the ork got in arms length of him, the ork brought down his weapon in a effort to slash him. He dodged the attack by veering slightly to the right while rotating his body to avoid the attack, afterwards before the ork could strike again he stabbed the rocket on the orks back causing the ork to fly up into the air, and while the ork was yelling he began to spin wildly before exploding in a small inferno. With another two orks down he finally made it to the ground before ditching his grav chute and ran to the nearest peice of burning Valkyrie debree with a squad of guardsman already taking position near the crash site. "This is Caccia! I have made landfall successfully and regrouped with one of the squads. I will make my way to one of the ork anti-air batteries to give some breathing room for the ships still in the air!" He spoke in his radio just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of dakka.

Screaming through the air was a Valkyrie assault carrier, painted black and midnight blue, lacking any distinguishing symbols that one would normally expect on a vehicle belonging to an Imperial Guard regiment. Unmarked and descending rapidly, the Valkyrie careened through the air, deftly avoiding incoming anti-air fire as best as could be done under the circumstances. Inside the hull of the flyer sat four men, undergoing final weapons' checks for their primary mission of eliminating the Ork warboss. All covered in carapce armor a similar color to that of the Valkyrie, it would be apparent to any Guardsmen who these men were. The Militarum Tempestus.

Raised in the confines of the Schola Progenium, these four men had received the best training in the Imperium and equipped with some of the most refined gear available to the forces of humanity. Effective, arrogant, and deadly, this elite group of soldiers was at once admired and loathed by normal Guardsmen.

"Keep an eye out, men. Report any findings so that the information may be relayed back to the interested parties," said Uriah, the others nodding in acknowledgement as he mentioned their other objective briefly.

"Red flares spotted, Sergeant Volc. Possible location in need of support. Orders, sir?" asked the pilot of the Valkyrie, all while managing the flight. The sound of "rockets away" came from the cockpit followed by a small shudder as the Valkyrie adjusted for the lost weight. Down towards the ground streaked a barrage of rockets, striking a concentration of Ork troops and blasting a majority of them apart.

"Deploy on the building next to the flare as best possible, return to ship afterwards. The flared building may be occupied and roof landing there may be too dangerous. May the Emperor protect you, Operator Sturm," responded Uriah, the leader of the small group of Scions. Accompanying him was the entirety of the Militarum Tempestus complement with the 501st, three men: Deacis Thorn, Elbel Fischermann, and Partheo Karas. Picking up his helmet, Uriah clicked the armor into position, sensors coming online as it began to draw power.

"Sir, I'm not sure that's the best location to land. Imperial ordnance may still be active and a disembarkation in that-"

"Cut it, Operator Sturm. We will disembark there, afterwards you may return to your ship. Acknowledged?"

"Acknowledged, sir. Jackal, get that mul-" responded Sturm, his voice cutting off as the channel cut away, returning to commanding the aircraft and his copilot. A loud bang sounded as a shard of metal slammed against the side of the Valkyrie, throwing the aircraft off course slightly before the pilot righted the vehicle.

Swooping in, a final barrage of rockets flew out as the multi-laser spattered shots across the city-scape. Swooping in near the flares, the Scions leaped out, landing on the roof next to the one which held a flare. As soon as the last boot stepped off, the Valkyrie began to pull away, streaking off towards safety, all the while being battered by Ork guns.

As a group, the four Scions descended through the ruined building, coming out on floor level. A roar to the left alerted them, all spinning to see a group of twenty-odd Ork Boyz charging down the street.

"Frag out!" called Deacis, chucking the small metal object towards the group even as the Hot-shot lasguns of the other troopers drilled holes through multiple Orks, dropping them with concerted volleys. The grenade's blast dismembered multiple Orks, leaving the remaining few to be accurately cut down by precise shots.

"Elbel, Parth, through that alley way, clear the other side of the building, rendezvous at the intersection. Emperor protects," barked out Uriah, receiving a nod and and murmur of "Emperor protects" from the two Scions before they moved off down the corridor, weapons at the ready. Uriah and Deacis moved quickly towards the ground-level flare, scanning the area cautiously. Scrambling from behind caused them to whirl around, training weapons on three Guardsmen, fear and dirt staining their faces.

"You three, you are now temporarily under my command until we regroup with other Imperial Guard elements. You will assist in retrieving Commissar Rascal and escorting her to the rendezvous location or you shall be shot for insubordination. Move!" yelled Uriah, causing the three to jump, a slight tinge of disgust entering their expressions.

"Suh, we was supposed to meet up with the Commissar at this here building, us and any other squads that needed rendezvous and couldn't reach the main area," declared one of the Guardsmen.

Nodding, Uriah considered the situation for a moment then spoke, "When we find the Commissar, you shall be released to her care. First we secure her. Now go."

The five stumbled into the tower. After a few minutes of searching, one of the Guardsmen spotted the Commissar. "Commissar Rascal, I am Tempestus Scion Sergeant Uriah Volc," Uriah said. "Found these men outside, cleared out the immediate vicinity of Orks. Emperor protect you, Commissar.

Around the end of the street came Partheo and Elbel, firing off a last few shots, Partheo tossing a grenade, before trotting to the base of the building which their fellow troops occupied. Saluting with the Aquila, Partheo reported over the micro-bead, "Street cleared of Greenskins, the location of the other Guardsmen concentration in this area is approximately north of us, Sergeant Uriah. Recommend moving through the alleys and buildings to avoid significant encounters."

Uriah nodded before glancing over at Commissar Rascal. "I recommend you relocate to the main rendezvous, Commissar. Centralized command shall be important in the coming hours," he intoned before moving off with Deacis to regroup with Partheo and Elbel at the entrance of the building. As one, the squad of Scions loped off towards the main Ork compound, intent on accomplishing their mission while the Imperial Guard units distracted the main Ork body.

Icarus Toroun

Sergeant Toroun fired his lasgun one last time before reloading it, the final shot hitting a Shoota Boy in it's chest and causing it to fall. He ducked down as he reloaded and scanned the area for enemy targets once more. Icarus popped up from his cover and aimed another shot down his sights at a pinned down squad of orks across the landing zone. The rest of the 501st on the roof with him were doing the same thing as him, taking one or two shots than crouching behind cover again.

Down below in the first floor of the building Icarus could here a shot now and then when an ork got too close to the door of their building and the surviving 501st downstairs could get a shot off. So far Icarus was still waiting for more troops to show up. Looking up at the sky Icarus notices another soldiers about to land, Caccia was coming down and landed a building away from where Icarus was. "This is Caccia! I have made landfall successfully and regrouped with one of the squads. I will make my way to one of the ork anti-air batteries to give some breathing room for the ships still in the air!"

Icarus ran over to that side of the roof to look down at Caccia's position and took a look at what his opposition was. He turned on his radio again and messaged Caccia over the squad comm. "Caccia, regroup at the building east of you. Bring the rest of that squad with you. We need more fire support up here for the LZ. That's an order." Icarus did not want Caccia to go after one of the anti-air instellations without sufficient numbers. It would be better if they all regrouped and got everyone on the ground before going after the ork positions. Icarus ran back over to his other firing line and took a couple of pop-shots before getting back behind cover.

Planet Arawath
Near-to-Alpha, Est. 50m South of Alpha

In the tight corridors, alleys, and mixed structural integrity of the area, the soldiers immediately around Sergeant Icarus followed his orders and began piling into one of the structures to gain a tactical advantage. More and more of the 501st continued to touch down, in various areas; a few blocks to the North seemed to be where the major concentration was setting down, but this area had enough troops to set themselves up in a decent position of fortification.

Most of the 501st did not relinquish their grav-chutes, unless they had sustained damage; it was not only a fairly expensive tool, but one that could potentially see more use later on down the road.

"Sergeant Pilgrim," shouted one of the troopers. He seemed to be a veteran, his shoulder-badge indicating his code name as 'Striker'. More importantly he and another trooper, assisted by another pair, had heavy stubbers. "We'll take the roof. I'd request another handful of troops to ensure those damn Stormboyz don't get on top of us."

The two heavy weapons teams followed Icarus up the flights of stairs at a decent clip. From the vantage point on top of the building, the primary Alpha landing site for 2nd company was still concealed behind a wall of structures, but there were plenty of Orks to shoot; charging towards the building with the fire coming from it.

The ground floor had a volley of some twenty grenades thrown into it; the shuddering detonations that followed would leave the entire building shaking. If any of the Guardsmen made it out of the ground floors, they had not yet resumed firing.


Caccia would find himself at a fortuitous position near to the front of this engagement, hunkered down with some of the other troops some thirty meters away from the building that Icarus and the teams he had taken command of were situated in.

If Caccia chose to ignore the order, he would have options. The primary anti-air, at least if he had any idea how to navigate this world as yet, was somewhere to the West outside of the major hab structures. Another was off to the East, in the center of the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Company drop zones.


2nd Company Alpha LZ

As fortunate as any Priest before him, Deacon had managed to find himself in a position not more than a block away from the main push; as such, trotting off in that direction would see him and his new friends linking up with the rest of the Company.

The situation here was markedly much better than the scattered comms chatter would suggest of other landing zones. With such a high concentration of Imperial Guardsmen, they were able to keep their positions defended from the West, while still pushing Eastward against the onslaught of Orks.

Sergeant Solar was at the moment no-where to be seen, but a renewed shout of WAAAAAAAAGH! would draw attention to a new wave of Orks; some two hundred or so barreling down on the Imperial Guardsmen. These were not the skinny grots or wiry Stormboyz that had been sent at the 501st thus far; these were Boyz, proper, and were led by a pack of Nobz.

"Fire on full auto, men," a nearby Sergeant shouted; the last thing they wanted was engagement with the Orks at close range. The front line opened up a severe barrage of las-fire, but returning shots from the Orks- and their natural resilience to damage- saw them keep coming despite the dead.

A black Valkyrie assault craft- the only one with considerable armament in the conflict, and for some reason incredibly low to the ground- passed overhead, unleashing a barrage of Autocannon fire and dispatching the rest of its rockets. While the Ork numbers suffered, they pressed on; and the Valkyrie became the recipient of a volley of return fire, several Ork rockets and cannons shearing off one of its wings. The craft spiraled out of control and could be heard detonating somewhere to the north.


To make matters worse, one of the structures to the south of Alpha LZ began to crumble as an Ork Tank began to rumble its way onto the Infantry position; a most difficult situation for the majority, due to a severe lack of anti-armour weaponry.

Wherever he was, Sergeant Solar had heard Belva's inquiry. "Do it, Psyker! That thing will rip the company apart!"


Secondary Designated LZ, est. 100m South of Alpha

The Commissar would not remain alone for long. She would also not remain unknown to the Orks for long.

With her position under fire from the Orks who happened to be below the building, the situation might start to appear rather grim. The red flare smoke was her saving grace, forming a wall of colour that threw off the Orks' already impressively bad aim.

In moments the lot of that particular group of orks was reduced to green and red clouds, due to the concentrated fire of several hot-shots and a grenade.

The group of Guardsmen that had actually made their way into the position were taken in by the Stormtroopers; whether they liked it or not, temporary though that arrangement was. Once they found the Commissar, the men moved to assist her in her position, leaving the Storm Troopers to their own devices.

Said Storm Troopers would be on their way down the building when a frustrated Sergeant's voice would be heard by most of those present in the structure, via their comm beads.

"Commissar, you have deployed red smoke. That is fire support request; be advised that- damn it, stand by and take cover!"

Even over the din of battle, the distant 'thump' of large guns firing could be heard. An entire Regiment of artillery had control of the area, and was eagerly awaiting an opportunity to hammer on the hated Orks. A man-made storm was coming; and assuming it was at maximum range, they would have less than twenty seconds to respond.

To bring even more misfortune, another wave of Orks had begun a charge and entered the building; the Storm Troopers, and what few Guardsmen were in the area to try climbing the structure, would now be trapped between the Orks and a climb to what may be their deaths.

Grim and Bottles would find themselves dropped into this situation. For better or worse.


600 Meters North of 1st Company LZ

Trooper Phoorstein would not immediately know where he was. Even by the map that he had been able to take a look at before the jump, as far as he could tell he wasn't anywhere near the drop zone.

To say he had flown off course was an understatement.

"Punkt," Sergeant Solar shouted over comms. "How the feth did you end up in the middle of no-where?" He was understandably annoyed; but one soldier who ended up elsewhere could not be helped.

"Get to a position where you can get eyes on your situation from elevation. Once you have ascertained what your status is, link up with the rest of 2nd Company."

A task easier said than done; Phoorstein had ended up somewhere West of the entire push, almost out in the Ash wastes. Despite the rebreather and landing goggles, the sheer amount of ash whirling around was blinding.

And to make matters worse, the distant sounds of battle were not quite as distant as one might have hoped- from the north, several Ork ground vehicles were moving towards his position.

The large tower structure to the south would perhaps be his only hope of survival.