"THOSE FAITHFUL TO THE EMPEROR WILL HAVE HIS PROTECTION" BeckonCall's 40k Imperial Guard RP!

[Kent]

Oz just grunted in reply. The rest of his unit finished their preparations and formed up in front of Oz. He looked at Rook and tossed him the Requisition Cheque, "Report to the Quartermaster and get us that Walker, make sure it has proper stealth specifications. Make haste, we'll deploy immediately after you get back."

He looked at Quin and smiled, "Did you prepare our death forms? Maybe these guys need it too." He pointed at the other units and scoffed. He then turned to Teodore and frowned, "You won't be different than shit when you fall to the ground lifeless." He then turned his attention to Aleksandr and just nodded in affirmation. No words were needed as they understood each other.

Oz waited for Rook to return before announcing, "Oz Squad, move out."

 

[ithinkcat]

"A fair assessment." Elsara replied to Cyros' offer for his unit to stay behind. "And thank you...for the shields. My Ogryn may be simple and rude, but their lives will help save others so they may continue to serve the Emperor's will. The starport's defense is blessed to have a resourceful servant of the Emperor with them. The Emperor protects the faithful, brother." she said before heading out to towards the transport with the rest of her unit in tow.

At the transport, Elsara began their unit's pre-mission rituals. Among the chaos of war and bureaucratic incompetence, their pre-mission rituals was one of the few constants they had in life. She threw on her own equipment, and then went to each of her squadmates to recite a personal prayer for them while holding her Ecclesiarchial pendant normal tucked under her uniform. Each prayer ending with her compulsive, "the Emperor protects". She then ordered Zora and Herc to get Alta into the transport without incident, while Elsara sung a hymn of the sisters of battle to Mord, coaxing him to hum along, in order to get him in the transport as well.

 

[Beckoncall]

Kent Lord Mitmar ithinkcat :

FORAY: DAY 10 of the Invasion of Prax.

They had a map of five recon points all along a patrol route. Patrols and recon squads had been hit all along the route, other Xs marked enemy encounters and isolated strongpoints on the landscape that ostensibly the scouts had reported before going lost.

The Valkyrie did low-altitude scouting of the open terrain points of contest -- a grassland spot with an unsetup comm rig hastily unpacked, some burn marks, a blood trail that ended suddenly 15 feet from where it began. A lowland site with a smoking chimera wreckage... No bodies at either spot. The next ping was in a deeply forested area so the valkyrie hovered over a clearing made by a waterfall and dumped the Crumpled scout walker and underslung centaur onto the surface of Prax and squads Elsara, Oz, and Holleski hit the ground running. The falls kicked up a massive mist, cut by two rainbows that seemed to give a goodly omen to this, their first stage of the operation.

Mord and Alta quietly rocked inside the back of the centaur sitting on medic-crates. Zora shook a butterscotch pudding-cup in her hand. "First Ogryn to get a clean kill gets the prize!" Zora mocked. Alta wiped her erormous Ogryn face of drool at the prospect of getting her hands on the rare dessert.

The squad consisted of 15 troops, 12 in the centaur (1 driver, 1 gunner, 10 passengers) Two in the scout walker, (Cort and Casmirre) and Teodore on foot -- hanging with a mag-bar off the back-rear of the centaur when the unit was on the move. Having him packed in the carrier -- even with the open top, was too much -- Teodore smelled like rotten piss and even on drawing lots nobody wanted to risk sitting next to him, not even the Ogryn.

The Guardsmen drank deeply and refilled their canteens with fresh water from the waterfall, tasting sweet and cold as opposed to the antiseptic taste the bases water-filters always had. "Trace" levels of Arsenic killed all the bacteria in Standard issue water rations in the 1118th. Long term effects be damned.

When the group rolled slowly through the forested area containing their first point of interest, the scout walker was put on point with the centaur trailiing behind, with Teodore holding a sniper rifle far back bringing up the rear.

...There was a firefight here, but again, no bodies. Helmets and scattered gear, all 1118th designations. The blast marks and burned foliage didn't look like Imperium or Dominate weaponry. In fact Rook found shards of dark blue crystal stuck deep in some of the burned trees and scattered in a deep puddle at the site. Whether this was some kind of residue from a secret weapon or wisps of evidence of Xenos remained unclear. The units began to sweat in the heat of the deep forest, the cool wind of the plains of prax suffocated by the thick undgrowth and hanging canopy off the trees.

Two more sites with similar signs and it was almost dusk. They had A decision point -- A column of 2 centaurs a chimera, and 2 scout-bikes was coming through a valley to the east -- second wave forces likely headed towards the starport. The sides of the valley were heavily wooded all around the small creek that ran north to south -- seemingly an ideal place for an ambush. This would be "Coloring outside the lines" of their mission description, but it was a target of opportunity if the unit was up to the challenge.

The alternatives to setting the ambush were crossing the valley after the Dominate column had passed and trying to hit the last 3 blips where recon lost contact with central and fall back under cover of darkness,

or haul ass due south and call a valkyrie to pick them up so they could be on time for the defense of the spaceport...

 

[Beckoncall]

Heyitsjiwon Pat General Deth Glitch :

The starport defense consisted of three tiers, a standard Earthworks trench system outside the starport itself - reinforced at key points with rockcrete plating, A series of bunkers facing the enemy approached carved into the starport hill itself, and a tertiary defense network inside the outer perimeter of the spaceport itself, utilizing sconces made of empty armorplas crates as well as sandbags-piles upon piles of sandbags. The starport was covered on two sides by steep arched cliffs and the sea behind it, leaving only one real approach.

Severan Reservists were predicted to be well supplied but dependent on Veteran officers to maintain morale. The enemy already exchanged the longest range Las-fire from the treelines far beyond the trench system and the road was clotted with Chimera troop transports -- it was predicted the troop transports would roll into the trenchworks and digorge their payload of Severan infantry into brutal close combat with a small contingent of Leman russ tanks supporting them from the plains outside the enemy defensive line in the forest. These Tanks were expected, if the battle dragged on, to knock out enough of the defensive bunker network to allow a direct assault of the starport.

Beyond the Forest line the enemy lay hidden somewhere unseen but not unheard, a collection of Basilisk artillery pieces as well as a squadrons of valkyries and Vultures whizzing around like angry hornets in preparation for the attack.

Commissar Bolton barked over the network of loudspeakers, yelling from all directions like some kind of angry omnipotent presence.

"Hunker down for immanent bombardment! They'll try to soften us up before they try their witless gambit of a frontal assault!"

The units knew their placements for the conflict on doctrine alone, but Bolton howled the directives to individual units as if they should already be in their places. Rattling endlessly the guardsmen of the detachment heard their unit names even as the horrifying whistles of the earthshaker cannons began to fall around them.

"Cyros! Third Trench! Prepare to repulse light armor and infantry after the barrage!"

"Tiguvius! Second trench middle! Hold the line and freelance any opportunity to seize advantage!"

"Mazer! First Trench! Stop armor as it arrives and wither infantry!"

"FEAR NOT GUARDSMEN! GLORY TO THE FIRST MAN TO DIE! EACH OF YOUR ENDS WILL BE GLORIOUS! PREPARE FOR ETERNITY AND BE THE EMPEROR'S WRATH!"

and with that most of the loudspeakers were pulled from the earth by the vibration of the earthshaker artillery, silencing the commissar. The squeaking of chimera wheels spun up as the enemy transports prepared to charge the moment the artillery barrage was through... which seemed to be going on forever from the instant it started. Their Leman Russ Tanks began to crash their way out of the treeline with a clustered units of Severan infantry huddling behind each one, and the Vultures began to spin in the air high above the battlefield like angry bees as the defenses own Hydra Anti-Aircraft guns were wheeled into the center of the spaceport behind all defenses to protect from them.

It would be moments before the battle was joined in earnest... the nearest artillery craters filling up with enemy infantry as the trenchworks fired upon them and the chimeras speeding up to charge over into the middle of the trenches. A leman russ Erupted with white light as the bunker line fired a salvo of plasma bolts at it, causing the their tanks to focus fire on that bunker and obliterate it from the hillside. The Severan units wore Grey colors to contrast the Loyalist greens, their own fanatical commanders howling into megaphones to goad them on, threatening any who faltered or stepped back with execution.

Nayota simply grimaced and said "GET SOME!" as she rattled fire from the defenses of the line-infirmary and goaded Xanatov to fire beside her.

Holt groaned to Cyros -- If I took out three chimera it would be a footnote with respect to my legacy. I'm going to die -- but I'm going to die NOTICED."

Ossian had killed three Severan already with his sniper rifle, making crude tallies with a long toe-nail on the dirtside of the trench. Jorn pushed past Tiguvius to get into a open space behind a machine gunner. "I fink they's coming for real, Tigah." And smiled revealing his mouth full broken cylindrical teeth.

Finally the earthshakers silenced -- and the Chimera's surged forward, the defending guardsmen finally able to break from covering up from the horrible barrage....

"GLORY IN THE EMPERORS NAME!"

And it was on...

 

[June Verles]

Spoiler: Music

A normal day for a squad of Maori War Dogs starts much more earlier than a regular guardsman, they wake up so they can get ready, obviously, but at the same time to run drills. Even after being deployed multiple times you never stop running in the literal sense, as they usually start off their days with an hour run around the base before going into basic cqc practice. That would probably be followed by Jump Pack practice, but considering the environment they were in they decided to conserve their fuel. If it wasn't clear enough, physical shape was incredibly important to the guardsmen which made sense to be honest, don't want to run out of breath if you're in a mosh pit. Hell it's even said that the Maori warriors get the best sleep because they're too tired to have nightmares.

Regardless, the sound of enemy artillery fire and the shaking of the ground it was time to get to action. Taking a deep breath Hōne Heke would summon his squad, who would get behind him in a triangular shape in the order of their accomplishments. The current order was himself, (he was always going to be at the front anyways) then Ruiha and Taonga followed by Amiria and Aketu in the back row.

They conducted their dance, originally made to inspire fear in the enemies in front of no one, but at this point to them it was like a psychological trigger. After finishing they would apply the ceremonial paint mixed with dirt on their faces and from that point on they couldn't speak anymore, they had to rely on Hōne to lead them.

Their tactic was quite simple, Hōne would wait from a position where they could easily jump in the third trench, on the look out for high priority targets like enemy officers. Once he found them he and his squad would immediately jump, attempt to group kill him with 5 people and leave to reposition for another jump. Simple in theory, hopefully effective here and now.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Mazer stood comfortably in the trench as the ground shook from the artillery. If there was one thing that his squad would do correctly it was digging a deep trench. No point in crouching. The only way that they would get hit is if their trench took a direct hit from a shell. Even then, only that section would be ruined as the trench took on a zig zag form to mitigate the damage that explosives could do to the men inside. Mazer looked to his squad. Gilliam was doing last minute checks on the meltagun. Ramirez and Victrix were manning the heavy bolter while leisurely passing along a cigar while they waited to get on the firing line. Johnstonne was gazing upon the battlefield from an observation port, likely seeing things that the rest of the guardsmen could not see in the distance.

Mazer cleared his throat and spoke "Gather around. The plan is simple. Ramirez and Victrix, fire and maneuver with the heavy bolter. Don't get too comfy in a position for too long. Otherwise, a Leman Russ might get wise and blast you out of your position. Keep them on their toes and give them a face full of explosive, metallic death from different directions. Johnstonne and I will be spotters, running around the trench firing our las guns and identifying targets of opportunity with our augmetic eyes for you all. Gilliam, you stick with me with the melta gun, but do not fire unless valuable targets are close enough. That means vehicles and targets that our heavy bolter will not be able to handle. Until then, you're another rifle on the line. Now, get a move on! First Trench is ours and only ours!"

 

[Pat]

"Xanatov! Nyota! Recharge your lasguns and set them to maximum power. Holt and Arnette, follow their lead and set your weapons to maximum power as well on the double! We might not have the equipment to pierce their leman russ tanks, but we'll give those chimera transports volley after volley before they can spill their infantry out into the trenches. Fire on my beam!" Cyros barks out. He takes aim at the center mass of the sides of the chimeras approaching the spaceport where the troop compartments are undoubtedly most vulnerable, knowing they'd just waste ammunition in the attempt to leave anything more than a mere scorch mark on the angled frontal armor of the personnel carriers. He squeezes the trigger once his squad is all on the firing step with him aiming at the first target he designates for the unit. Maybe they'd take out three chimeras like Holt wanted, but they'd only be able to do it together. Either way, they needed to do their best to thin the herd of Severan reservists so that Mazer's heavies won't be overwhelmed by their stampeding mass.

 

[Beckoncall]

"THE EMPEROR CALLS FOR THIS PATCH OF GROUND AND HE SHALL HAVE IT!" Bolton's voice came from more distant, a megaphone in a bombard tank at the center of the starport. The 1118th didn't have a lot of artillery here for this engagement, at least not yet -- but they had squadrons of Hydra Anti-aircraft guns.

The enemy tanks broke from the woodline and the sound of the earthshaker artillery died down. The Dominate forces expected key points in the line to be softened up and the chimeras spread into three channels to hit those areas. Whole units in the first trench had been annihilated in the bombardment but the craters opened up in the second and third line just seemed to make for better defenses for the irregulars -- LasCannons and AutoCannon were moved into shell-pits and reinforced by siege infantry and then a sort of "heartbeat" of the battlefield seemed to take over -- it was the relentless pounding of the heavy bolters at first, then followed by the autocannons and the constant keening of the LasGuns.

Victrix and Ramirez saw cyros' unit slamming the side of a pivoting chimera and smashed it directly on the front-side tread as it tilted over an obstacle... the Chimera tilted forward before the chimera behind it, chugging at almost full speed, hit it and flipped it over. The Side hatches immediately flew open and the Severan troops spilled out towards the trenches, with Cyros' unit cutting them in half from the waist up then picking of the remaining troopers that attempted to crawl free.

Enemy Vultures Flew parallel to the trenches loosing gouts of gunfire and causing many in the second trenches to take cover, and many others to loose their lives. Mazer watched as his heavy bolter team moved from one upper purchase angle to another, raining down fire until the weapon was hot and moving quickly while the magazine registers were changed on Victrix's back by a tireless ramirez.

A chimera pulled to the side, drifting in front of the first line of trenches and nearly spilled the side deployment panels onto Mazer's head. It was happening so fast -- the distance closed so quickly. Two units of Dominate elite heavy infantry hit Mazer's trench, clearly here to set an example for what was to happen on the flanks. Gilliam Stepped on the edge of the trench and turned the promethium valve on his melta gun before the weapon misfired and Gilliam, his weapon, and two combat specialists from an adjacent unit just LIQUIFIED where they stood.

Mazer Bayonetted a heavy infantryman in the neck before blasting his skull away like a fiery missile before an enemy heavy infantry captain Brought a bladed gauntlet down on mazer, catching his Lasgun and flinging it skyward.

That was when Hōne Heke and his unit jumped into the air, scraping the lowcloudline and holding formation in an insane leapfrog that brought them down on the first trench.... down on the heavy infantry... on the captain. The roar of their jump-packs heralding their sudden arrival, Ruiha and Taonga hacking the captain to bits, and Hone Heke pulling Mazer out from under the fallen plating covering his trench and in the same gesture turning both their weight in line with the mini-jet engines he was wearing to pull the ribcage and skull of a heavy infantryman up and out of his skin as they bounded from crater to crater looking for more officers on the right flank.

The Hydras opened fire on the Vultures and planes began to fall around Cyros' and Mazer's units -- the sound of their rattling like seas of metal snakes and the blasts of shade that came from low-overhead CLOUDS of Imperial Flak.

A Valkyrie with a Hellhound Chimera slung underneath it skimmed low and into this hail of scrapnel, all at once removing the top of the valkyries engine and turning the front crew pod into mush.
Mazer pulled his Laspistol from his belt and gestured for Victrix to fire upon the fallen Valkyrie until it exploded. It's hard-dropped chimera rolling only meters away from it's crash point before it's fuel compartment too caught fire and blasted two chimeras that were travelling overground aside like toys... them too disgorging their infantry prematurely only to be cut down by units like Cyros'.

Xanatov and Holt threw all their krak grenades at the first chimera to hit their line, obliterating it... but before the flashes and kicked-up dirt could settle, Severan infantry were all along the line. Sliding into the trenches... Ogryns and penal units in the first trench fighting and dying to halt the advance of infantry.

A Valkyrie had landed in a giant crater in the second line of trenches dumping as many as two dozen Dominate infantrymen into the center of the middle line. The rest of the enemy aircraft broke from the withering hydra fire but all was descending into chaos now. Victrix and Ramirez rained Heavy Bolter death down at the swathes on men breaking through the smoke, as did other heavy weapons crews, missiles flying haphazardly towards the leman russes and heavy flamers greeting whole units with hot stinking petroleum death.

Hono Heke's unit was emulated and amplified on the left flank by other jump troops encouraged by their example and the attack on the left side was halted as they waited for leman russes to clear the bunkers on the left flank before resuming the advance.

Nyota was shot through the shoulder with a clean cut of a hotshot lasgun and arnette dragged her into deeper cover with Nayota firing both their laspistols held sideways, gangland style.
"MEDIC!" Arnette yelled out, tearing off one sleeve of her uniform and snuffing it into the HOLE that was pumping blood out of Nyota. "Had worse." Nyota said... "I don't wanna lose the arm though."

Cyros' unit was well on the way to being pinned down if it didn't act.

Mazer had lost Gilliam, the Melta-gun, and had been separated from the heavy bolter -- though they were still spotting for it with optics which slowed the advance on them. Mazer tried to look at the battle from a longview seeing what could be done to target things strategically, but moments later he was ordering his Heavy Bolter to suppress entrenched dominate infantry, hestitant to dig them out, but dangerously close.

The land outside the trenches was a maze of twisted wreckages and islands of empty chimeras rattling off their bolters as Severans moved through billows of popped tank-smoke to get into grips with the enemy.

What the 1118th did in the next few moments may well decide the trajectory of the battle... and certainly the fate of the first trench line.

They would have to act... even if it meant dying in their next breath.

 

[Pat]

Cyros slid back into the trench to treat Nyota alongside Arnette as Xanatov and Holt bought them all time with suppressive fire. "Remember the imperial catechism of healing, Arnette. You will save her." He ordered as they together compressed the wound with a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding, pressing his knee to her shoulder to apply pressure once the sleeve was supplemented by a tightly applied gauze bandage before finishing it all off with a chemical treatment. He leaves Arnette with Nyota after taking their krak grenades and tying them together into a more powerful bundle. "Get ready to hop back onto the firing line the moment you're back in action. Nyota, use the gun rests of the riot shields and the sling of your weapon to steady your aim as you help Arnette and Xanatov suppress the positions Holt and I are about to assault." He pulls their pins once they're bound and flings the improvised explosive in the direction of the hotshot lasgunner. Picking up the entrenching tool, he immediately follows up with a charge in the direction of the Severan grays he believes to be advancing behind the operator's beams, hoping to seize the initiative and cut them down with Holt providing assistance every mad dash of the way wielding his less cumbersome laspistol. Cyros tries to eliminate every soldier he closes the distance with a jab under the chin or a hit between the neck and the shoulder to cleave downwards to their chest. Holt shoots down those Cyros can't reach to melee in time.

 

[Beckoncall]

Nyota's blood poured all over the base of the trench, but amazingly she wasn't in shock. Arnette drained a transfusion rig into her rapidly whitening arm and put some kind of bit in Nyota's mouth which shocked her into full consciousness. Cyros had barely packed the grenades into a bundle when he saw Nyota slinking back to her firing position as ordered, the armorplas shields helping to make a gun stand as well as a bulwark for defense.

A cloud of white and black smoke whirled together as holt and cyros climbed from their entrenchment to the area they figured the hotshot lasgunner was. Autocannon fire and more hydra flak hissed overhead as holt grabbed Cyros by the back of hit vest to keep him from falling over into a pock-marked cracked up landscape. Arnette and Nyota gave fire where Cyros was heading... the shots of the sniper were snapped, not aimed, under the surpressing fire. Cyros needed to get to that sniper... they couldn't be far from the type of injury Nyota sustained.

Another cloud blew in this time filled with Severan troops. Cyros and Holt raced through the cloud to avoid being trampled, Cyros cutting a few on the edge of the cloud down while Holt covered him from any "adds" that came out of the smoke to address the foes he cut down. They hid against the side of a burned out chimera a full 40 yards from the first trench -- which seemed like miles in the pockets of clear sight line.

The sniper knew Cyros was on her now. Shot after shot after shot rang off the hull of the burnt out chimera trying to force He and Holt back, a section of their cover near their heads turning white-hot with repeated blasts. Then came the break.

"They're Reloading!" Holt barked, Cyros already pulling the collective of grenades up to shoulder height.

Holt fired a scatter of shot in the direction the blasts had just been coming from as Cyros broke cover -- locked eyes with the sniper, and rained a bundle of krak grenades onto her position. The explosion was so great it wiped out a gun team that was setting up in the no-man's land to take position facing the trenchwork.

The Heavy Bolter of Mazer's unit mowed down an advancing column of troops just as another poured into the trenchwork right beside.

Only Hōne Heke and his unit saw Cyros and Holt far out of position a veritable world away from the first trenches -- they had held down the left, but the right side of the first trench was flattened by an aggressive Leman russ and Dominate warriors were rolling up the first line of defense of the Imperial guard like a scroll, crawling and skittering through the trenches as the 1118th began to forfeit whole segments of trench Mazer had to consider holding position to cover a return by Cyros or to make sure his unit didn't lose more men.

Hōne Heke too had to choose a course of action. They were on their fifth dive and all the way on the left side where things could almost be regarded as calm, if it wasn't for the main lynch-pin bulwark turning from a forward facing to prepare for a full headlong flank attack from down the trench. They all had at least one head. Amiria had four hanging from her bandolier in place of the grenades she'd thrown, affixed to the pull rings still attached to her harness by naval knots she'd tied with locks of her victims hair. With all the jumptroops anchoring the side, the front line of trench just might repulse the flank attack long enough for those retreating to counter attack and reflank the men running up the trenches perpendicular to them... but they also saw Holt and Cyros -- brave men somehow on the attack in all this carnage, and they looked like they could use some help getting back to the defensive line. Choices to make, choosers of the slain.

Arnette carried Nyota back to the second line of trenches, Nyota kicking and firing her pistol behind her. An enemy Dominate stormtroop slashed arnette in the arm, with arnette pulling him down with her and shoving a rotatary syringe mechanicus into his eye socket and blending the inside of his head. Xanatov was waving to Cyros as he fired desperately at intervening troops that would block any retreat on Cyros' part.

All around cyros were the burning or blasting hulls and husks of chimera transports that had already dumped their infantry payloads... beyond the next wall of smoke, A line of leman russ tanks was rattling forward to secure and button up the first line of trenches for good. Holt looked at Cyros wild eyed.



"We falling back or pressing on, Cyros? I give my life if it is the emperors will. There is glory enough, here. Call it!"

The smoke was flattened by a low skimming valkyrie that disgorged the severan field commander behind the line of leman russ. Some heavily Augmedicated man in a traitor-commissar's getup and his personal mortar and heavy weapons team. Cyros and Holt were black from smoke, from the waves of soot beaten down on them -- to the point Cyros and Holt could barely see more of each other than their teeth and eyes.

It was then that they saw the Vindicare -- Elite assassin attached to the 1118th. Her form accluded by the same soot and camelioline. She was lithe, almost holy in the deadliness of her profile.

"Run Quick -- They're behind us. WE can get the kill if I shoot, and you run. Are you in or are you out?"

What she proposed was suicide, but also potentially the loss of the enemy field commander moments after landing -- a crushing blow. They needed only somehow get their attention -- get them to hesitate setting up, and the vindicare would take care of the rest....

 

[Pat]

Nyota, Arnette, Xanatov... Cyros hoped to return to them in time, but he knew there were others he must save. He locks eyes with Holt as he reverently takes out a frag grenade and motions for his squadmate to do the same. "Yell like furies." He says to the man with a mile-wide smile before grimly nodding to the Vindicare and beginning to sprint to the left of the enemy field commander as Holt made for the right, ready to hurl the explosives at the position ahead. Whether or not their debt owed to the Emperor was repaid this day, they would die so that others may continue to live in His light. When he pulled the pin of the frag grenade and made his throw, from Cyros' throat sang out no praises of his long beloved Cult Imperialis nor some proclamation of doom. Only a blood-curdling war cry for all that he had lost and all that he will take in turn.

 

[General Deth Glitch]

No plan survives contact with the Enemy. A fact of war known well by any with even a moments combat experience. The situation on the outermost defences was worst then dire. It was effectively a lost battle but there were still good able troops down there and beyond and while Xellion was entirely behind dying for the Emperor he also knew the battle would be more favourable and have a better outcome if those men could help shore up the other defences. "Jorn, Malakai, Aubray and Piotr, with me!" He bellowed as he moved out of the relatively safe position, leaving Ossian to his sniping, they were in and swiftly spotted an area he could use not far away. "We are going to set up just over there and fire over the first trench, if we are successful then we will give our brethren a route to fall back so that they can support our position up here. Aubray, position yourself behind us so you can get those that make it back in the fighting spirit and ready to die! Piotr, once we are set up, run down there and let them know what we are doing and then return to help us a quickly as you can!" With that, he charged to the narrow position he scouted followed by Jorn, Malakai and Piotr.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

You could do everything right and still lose. Such was life and the fate of young Gilliam whose preparation meant little in the face of a misfiring melta-gun. The enemy were nearby and entrenched, only pinned down by the heavy bolter yet they were dangerously close. " Johnstonne!" Mazer yelled "Frag those hiding bastards while they're pinned! We need to give the Heavy Bolter room to operate and hit more valuable targets. Coordinate your arms to your vision and drop those nades right on top of them." Mazer continued to scan the battlefield in front of him to assess the situation and see if there was anything else that the squad should shift focus to whether it was other enemies that were coming too close for comfort that he should frag or perhaps an exposed target that the heavy bolter might be able to hit. Victrix was able to calculate complex firing solutions... perhaps they could switch over to indirect fire support and use the heavy bolter as a small automatic mortar to hit targets that were in cover if need be?

 

[Beckoncall]

Demonsoul :

Kor and his group unpacked their LasCannons on the front section of the third trench line.

"Here come the fist of the emperor!" Donavan shouted, as a ballistic round quickly shut him up hitting the blast shield on the LasCannon. They immediately set up and started Las'ing the Aggressive Russ on the right flank, and it caught fire. The crew bailed out of the tank but were viciously gunned down by the imperial guard who had previously been terrorized by it.

From there, they picked out functioning chimeras from among the wrecks in front of the first trenches. and tried vainly to breach the frontal armor of another Leman Russ on the front line.

They saw the Dominate forces taking the front trench from one side to the other, and snapped some shots at a comms team and a missile launcher crew... pinning them down.

That was all Mazer needed to see as he shifted emphasis from front to side and commanded Victrix to arc shots right on top of them -- a rain of human paste flying up and away from them, Victrix lit a Lho stick on the side of her practically burning hot heavy bolter and passed it to ramirez. "There's enough smoke that we're not giving away our position, so smoke up!" Victrix lit a second Lho stick hanging out of her mouth in a gesture that looked like a kiss on the side of the weapon.

Johnstonne used up all his grenades and gathered more from the unit, then more from the dead around him. Many kills... at least fourteen confirmed on Severan Greys moving towards the trenchwork or moving along it.

Mazer looked around... the front trench was almost completely lost, and they had stayed in a rearguard action to cover the retreat. The fall-back was bloody as the secondary weapons on the Russ' Tanks tore up the scrabbling defenders, but many made it back to the second line with Mazer's teams help.

A Flash grenade followed by a couple of severan frags of their own came down to dislodge Mazer's unit. Their mechanicus augmented eyes adapted for the flash, and while half blinded -- the push to dislodge them failed as Johnstonne threw another volley of grenades, starting with the last frag they thrown at them by tossing is back while it was cooking.

But things looked dire for Mazers unit. They were practically alone in the front trench now, and both flanked and frontally assaulted. they stopped the forward advance, but the troops ahead of them had fixed them to their position -- confident that soon they would be swept away when the dominate forces got into hand to hand.

"BROTHERS AND SISTERS, FIGHT BY MY SIDE -- VENERATE THE IMMORTAL EMPEROR!" Aubray screamed like a banshee firing her lasgun in the air as fleeing men passed her and pulled them back into positions. Tiguvius' unit showed their hand, creating a channel for troops fleeing the front trench to fall back to the second. It was a door of sorts, one that was closing rapidly. Mazer noticed it -- they could kill so many if they stayed put but Xellion's unit was seemingly trying to save them and their allied along the front.

"DEATH TO TRAITORS!" Piotr was smoking like a chimney and his heart was racing like a rabbit.... so much that a chirourgeon nearby stooped near him and gave him a "Koolus" injection, which straightened him right out.

Jorn said to Tiguvious -- "Front littles are getting packed up, suh-suh. Permission to run down and help the littles."

Malakai's helmet flew right off as a autogun shot hit him right above the forehead -- denting his helmet which tore apart and flew away in pieces, him falling facedown into the dirt with blood coming out of his nose and ears like a fountain. "MEDIC!!!!!" Somebody shouted, before likewise being ventilated by the autocannon.

Ossian Zeroed the target beginning to surpress them and shot the entire crew of the gun in the order he thought he saw confidence. He was right. When the first guy went down the other three hestitated. Pop. The other two looked to each other and hit the dirt. Pop. killed another in cover, the last one broke and ran, and Ossian shot him lethally in the ass, severing both his legs.

"Will somebody PLEASE tell ossian that naptime is AFTER the battle. He may have a headwound but that's no excuse to get contemplative in a fight." Ossian stoically murmured out of the side of his mouth, knowing Aubray would hear him and take attention. Aubray, still screaming and rallying was seen as a holy example of what a guardsman could be -- small arms reflecting off her flak armor she stopped motivating and grabbed Malakai pulling him down into the trench and gasped, pulling her diagnosticator. "Complex Skull fracture" the tiny machine spirit said. Not looking good, but she immediately went into her kit and broke a sickly green glowing tablet into both of Malakai's eyes. "This medicine shall ride your optic nerves and keep your little cogitator running while I operate, Malakai." Aubray sighed... In what was the longest three minutes of her life, she calci-welded the top of Malakai's head closed and put a layer of synth flesh over it, then spend all her carried blood supply turning Malakai away from bleach white to more of a strange effeminate purple color. Confident she'd done all she could, She saw malakai clench a fist and pass out.

Meanwhile, Cyros and Holt were facing glory. They broke cover and ran UNDER the heavy bolter fire bristling from the line of Leman russes and Holt Shot a tank commander as a target of opportunity, then slinging his rifle as they both drew their frag grenades. Holts grenade went wide, bringing down only two foes and dropping the rest of a mortar team into cover... but Cyros' "rock" was perfectly placed. It bounced up the closing ramp of the valkyre, right behind the Field commander, spraying shrapnel over the whole unit and turning the planes' door into a wall of flying debris. That was all it took. The Commander broke cover for an instant to assess the situation, and the Vindicare shot him straight through the heart with a barbed harpoon round that subsequently exploded him and the elite guard closest to him.

Then the Vindicare vanished -- leaving Cyros and Holt to their fates... but a telling blow was struck with their apparent sacrafice. The tank line commander and field commander had both died in their insane assault. The Leman russes began to "freelance" -- turning left and right picking their own targets instead of taking a cohesive organized obliteration pattern. With the sides of the Russes slighty exposed on their pivoting, Ariela and Moran of Kor's unit began BURNING the vulnerable side armor with LasCannon fire. Donavan and Hervig were almost giddy as they saw the inexplicable panic spread in the ranks of the enemy guardsmen. The coordination of the Severan assault began to fall apart.

That didn't change things for Cyros and Holt however. With no other cover, they both huddled like children under the raging gun of an enemy leman russ as lasfire from the remaining elites fell all around them. Cyros was hit in the leg, hip and center mass burning away the ablative layer of his flak armor and frying the center of his chest. Cyros felt time slow. Sound mute. Was he dying? Holt was miraculously unhurt and threw the last of his grenades and gave fire to the elites burning the back open of one of the workers on the mortar team and shooting an elite severan grey in the ankle, dropping him like a tree. Cyros looked at the massive shadow of holt elongate over him... shots falling all around him.

"-ros! CYROS!" Holt snapped him back into consciousness. they were in a shallow groove made by one of the leman russ, with shots falling all over them. "Permission to die with honor, sir!"

Cyros looked back at the million miles to the trenchline. there was chaos there -- chaos they sowed. but he was tired. so tired... the lasfire landing around him was warm.... like a blanket. He had to decide whether to listen to... was that Holt? Or take a quick nap...

With the loss of additional leman russ tanks and the central command structure, so suddenly, the counter-attack from trench two came almost as quickly as the fallback from trench one.
Mazer's unit was saved as a wave of guardsmen rushed the hesitating greys -- thier officers screaming and kicking for them to regain cohesion. This wasn't going by any book the Dominate used... and it showed that the severan reserve was little prepared for the unexpected. Ogryn and penal survivors and positioners from the second trench ripped into the hastily taken positions of the dominate troops, without the aggressive leman russ to keep heads down and the enemy tank fire becoming unfocused and intermittent, they were butchered (at heavy cost) by frenzied drugged up penal guardsmen and laughing ogryn.

Mazer's unit, for a moment looking like it was do or die to flee, kept on arcing fire directly into the their trenchline -- watching arms and legs fly free of bodies as they did. Mazer was shot directly in the shoulder driving him down into the trench, but he continued to exhort his unit to keep fighting. If they stayed in the first trench they would still likely die -- they had to make their decision to move or hold ground to the last, when Ossian of Kor Unit trained the heat tracer line that shot Mazer down and - Pop - another enemy sniper down.

The loss of Severan vehicles and lack of command structure was quickly unravelling the enemy assault on the spaceport... the tide must turn -- but wouldn't without brave action of the guardsmen taking this opportunity...

 

[June Verles]

As they say off their make shift launching pad the jump troops at the command of Hono Heke would wait for their officer to lead them into the fray again, their group already having done quite a bit of work on killing the enemy chain of command by the heads in their possession. Honestly speaking their effectiveness was probably the only thing stopping the inquisition and by extension the astra militarum to warrant them as followers of khorne. Luckily Hono Heke seemed to keep his stash of captured heads in a black satchel hanging off his waist, out of view unike the rest of his comrades. Simple reason really, he wasn't elected to be their leader because he was the best fighter or the strongest. Unlike the other glory bound members of his regiment Hono Heke was surprisingly calm minded and methodical in his approach, which helped his unit avoid the ire of superior officers so far.

Hopefully his decision making would him now as he had a choice to make, he could continue to assault the third trench as it was being crashed upon to halt the enemy and give the 118th a chance to counter attack, but he most certainly could stop them. But then in the distance he saw the sparks of plasma and fire out of the defensive lines, squinting his eyes he would spot a group of allied infantry surrounded by enemies, way out of position, a dumb choice but somehow they've made it there so that was something impressive.

His train of thought paused for a moment, this battle was turning for the grim and maybe, just maybe something like this would inspire the rest to give them the win they so desperately need.

Without a word said he would command the rest of the unit to follow him in the fray that was slowly drowning Cyros, as they descended straight into the elite troops firing on the downed men. Hono Heke would throw his black sack of heads at the enemies, to disorient them and even scare them as they jumped on them to slash them down.

In this situation his plan was to jump down on a group of unsuspecting enemies, hack them down in melee where they weren't prepared and before they can mount a fight back jump out and move on to another group.

 

[Pat]

Three chimeras, a tank commander, and a gray heretic commissar. Not a bad price to pay if you're only losing a pair of imperial guardsmen. Cyros laughed, replaying the moment that Vindicare took the shot over and over again in his head. The 1118th Ad-hoc Irregulars would be alright. That's... That's all that mattered to him. The squad and the unit. A wartime family. "Denied. You'll be cut down the moment you stand. Not. Without. Me." He grit between his teeth at the eidolon that was Holt. "Stay. Stay and do your best with patching up what's left of me." He numbly ordered, his once deft hands now enfeebled rifling through his gear to ease the pain and staunch the bleeding alongside Holt. "Your father would've envied you this moment, you know that?" He asks his subordinate after passing his last frag grenade to Holt to buy them both just a couple more seconds. "Talk to me Holt. Say something. Anything." Cyros begs.

 

[Demonsoul]

Kor looked across the battlefield, the loss of command had clearly turned the tides in their favor, but that didn't mean he was done working. He claimed targets quickly and efficiently for his team.

"AM, R4 will be vulnerable in 2, DH C8-10 are your next targets, in that order."

In training Kor was called "The Machine" by other units due to his systematic and mechanical way of commanding. And since no one has ever seen him under his suit, him being a robot wasn't ruled out. This machine status had become a running joke in his unit even out of training, and Kor enjoyed the joke, out of combat he was a pretty relaxed guy, but in combat he was a machine and so his commands were efficent.

The two las cannon teams in his unit he directed with merely initials as names took too long. And while gibberish to most units, the heavy weapons unit understood his calls. Ariela and Moran were being directed to target leman russes as they turned to more vulnerable positions as they moved haphazardly now that there was no command. And Donavan and Hervig were directed to take out chimeras.

 

[Beckoncall]

Pat

The Leman russ they were huddled in the track-marks of was struck almost commically by a lascannon blast knocking the turret askew and sending the whole thing steaming and smelling of sickly roasted pig. The radiator had gone with the hit, and Holt knew the smell. The crew of the Russ was boiling in their own coolant. Holt Dragged Cyros to the back of the 'Russ, Laying him in the deepest part of the muddy channel cut by the tank to give him the smallest amount of cover.

A Ballistic shot flew in and out of Holts coat-sleeve leaving the flak shield below scarred by lasfire. Holt listened to Cyros -- almost whispering as he shook him awake, Cyros' eyes rolling in his head.

"Talk to me Holt. Say something. Anything."

A grenade landed nearby. Shrapnel knocked off holts helmet and they lay half-buried in the dirt and mud that fell all around them. Holt was shot in the shoulder pauldron, and took his pain pill out... then gave it to Cyros as blood ran down his arm soaking his uniform sleeve.

"It looks bad Cyros. I don't think anyone or anything is coming -- and we're not getting out of here by ourselves. It's been an honor serving with you, Joeig."

Holt never called Cyros by his first name. Then holt said...

"Stay conscious Cyros. This is the moment of truth -- and we will not fear -- and we will not falter. Holt stripped Cyros of all excess gear including his carry-pack and knelt over and picked Cyros up over his shoulder like a farmer would carry a balance of water-buckets. He ran breathing and panting like an animal carrying Cyros' weight... until Holt saw a unit of elites close in.. moving through the smoke screaming desperately to rally the rapidly panicking Dominate forces on the frontline. They would stop only for a moment to cut Holt down and continue to the center of the first line trenchwork... killing Cyros and Holt as merely an afterthought before going "back" to the battle.

But that didn't happen. Hono Heke and his unit of jump troops fell all around them like avenging angels and hacked the Dominate elites to pieces, vanishing almost as swiftly as they arrived. Holt stumbled in the direction they dived and fell into an earthshaker pit just in front of the first trenchline. The artillery pit could have been more than 10 feet deep, half of it flooded with blood and groundwater. Holt dropped Cyros in the water, then dove to find him, Taking a climbing piton out of his belt bag and driving it between two rocks and hanging Cyros' hand over it.

Cyros' hand clenched... holding the piton for dear life -- but he couldn't lift his head anymore. Somewhere along the run he had been shot again. this time in the shoulderblade and the wound was full of fragments of his flak vestment. The pain kept him awake. Reminded him he was alive, even if he was dying.

Kor's Lasguns whooshed to either side of them... melting a lone functioning chimera to slag and knocking out the tread and turret of a 'Russ, rendering it crippled. An enginseer crewman came out to repair the tread, and Holt shot him dead. Firing one more time to knock the mechanicus kit he had into the pool at the bottom of their flooded shell-hole.

The water was cold. Cyros suddenly snapped out of his wound-drunken-ness. He was bleeding out into the water... but he was in shock. He felt like he had a good 15 seconds of fight left in him -- and if he wasn't in the first line of trenches by the end of that window, he'd slip beneath the water and die before he had a chance to drown.

Ramirez and Victrix changed the belt on the heavy bolter and resumed firing from the first trench in record time.

"Johnstonne! Pick up good ol' John Mazer and ask him what time it is."

Victrix turned the gun down the line of the trench and arced and direct-fired a pulse-pounding death on the now uprooted severan troops who began to flee out of the first trench they had so recently almost seized and began taking feeble cover in the "crags" of smashed vehicles on the fields ahead of the defenses.

Cyros prepared to give the last of his breath, either to fight or find respite in the arms of the first-trench guardsmen. He looked through holt before bracing himself. Through him. Holt had been shot though the chest by a chimera mounted autocannon and just lay there like hanging on his own piton, still as a statue, like a ragdoll still at the ready... a rogue shard of sunlight shining down through his torso into Cyros' eyes.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Mazer was knocked into the trench with one arm effectively useless as his shoulder had a brand new smouldering hole in it. Taking deep breathes while grunting from the pain, Mazer stood up once more in the trench and yelled back "Can it, Victrix. I ain't your Daddy's age yet. Sure as hell feel like I am though." "Johnstonne! Fortify our position with the riot shields. Turn this part of the trench into a makeshift bunker with firing ports. If anyone comes too close for comfort, start throwing the flashes at them then blast them while they're blind. Keep holding the line! First Trench is ours and only ours!" Mazer yelled as he got back up to spot targets for the Heavy Bolter with his augmented eye with his las pistol at the ready with his remaining good arm.

 

[Pat]

Holt was supposed to outlive him. Cyros committed the sight of his fallen squadmate to memory before pulling himself up on the piton and beginning to use his knife to stab into the side of the artillery pit as a means to drag himself out of the flooded artillery emplacement and slither on his belly towards the distant trench line. Surviving was the only thing that mattered now. If he endured against all odds, the shame for the Severan defeat here would become unbearable for the enemy. "Sweet God-Emperor, forgive Your servant his sins, and remember I am just a man." He recited as he wept for noble Holt, unable to banish the glimpse of starlight he witnessed where the iron heart of a soldier once beat.

 

[Beckoncall]

Cyros lost consciousness after spilling into the trench.

Hono Heke and the rest of the jump troops had gone mad like a swarm of bees chasing down and mopping up the fleeing Dominate forces. Their earthshaker artillery had turned tail and their leman russ tanks were burned again and again as they slammed into reverse but had to turn to enter the treeline.

Hydra anti-air won air superiority and the 1118th's own vultures started tank hunting and blowing up chimeras full of fleeing dominate warriors.

Victrix's Heavy bolter rang true throughout the entire fight... when the battle was over but for chasing down and picking off fleeing targets, Johnstonne looked visibly unhinged.

"Gilliam LOVED that melta-gun. Gave it all his heart, and it still failed him. We are motes enslaved to fate, Mazer. The machine spirits are fickle - he died before firing a shot. I don't know what else to say about it."

Aubray had run into the first trenches to minister to the wounded and give swift execution to the suffering enemy... she fell at the side of Cyros and pulled him into a shelter made of armorplas shielding and began serious surgery on him... He would survive, But would need augmetics to save his arm from his back-wound. "Skeletal Trussing" they called it. Aubrey knew how to perform the procedure, and did it right there, in the dirt.

Cyros' unit did not take well to the death of Holt. It was glorious what Cyros and he accomplished... but his early death was like a story cut short -- a promising star suddenly snuffed out.

The Units had to decide whether to go on the offensive and try to catch the enemy artillery the vultures had difficulty picking out of the deep forest, or help the wounded and shore up the starport defenses. Word got out that a Vindicare Assassin ended the conflict just as it started escalating. The offico Assassinorium had saved the day it seemed... the Imperial guards merely pawns in a larger game, again -- where they spent their lives for another win for the Imperium.

Cyros' unit did get a case of synth-sky though -- bureaucracy moved slowly in the guard, but sometimes you got your perks ahead of time. Little cubes of alcoholic colloid suspension, they could be melted in a glass for some quality drink. Command was still getting the details straight, but Holt got a posthumous "Pefectus Delecti" pinned on his shrouded coffin before they recycled it.
Maybe Cyros would get some regcognition... at some point.

Kor's LasCannons got 7 confirmed kills and 3 assists. they were given copper stars for their performance in the battle.

The Dominate forces must have been desperate to throw such a large frontal assault at the starport -- but intelligence revealed they expected imperial guard to arrive in force weeks from the day of the attack. Since The Navy had moved off, the Separatists fell right into commissar bolton's cleverly laid trap.

It was good when you felt command knew what it was doing. Too often too many guardsmen pay for uncreative or too-ambitious command.

In hours... the units would be assigned replacements and have new jobs to do.... but for now it was a question of chasing down the last of the foe, or shoring up the defenses, tagging the dead, and saving as many of the wounded as possible...

 

[Pat]

"Holt followed me through the battlefield every step of the way to eliminate the Severan sniper that wounded Nyota in the shoulder, shooting down all of the grays I encountered along our warpath my entrenchment tool did not dispatch." Cyros stated to Xanatov, Arnette, and Nyota once his squad found him in a state of recovery from his injuries not long after he managed to regain his consciousness. "When the Vindicare, touched by the grace of the Emperor himself discovered the two us in the smoke, she asked for our assistance in dispatching the enemy field commander. For the continued survival of the 1118th Ad-hoc Irregulars, we could only oblige. With his lasgun he killed a heretic tank commander as we distracted the traitor commissar leading the enemy. We threw our frag grenades, giving the avenging angel of the Imperium a clean shot in our suicidal assault, and she finished what Holt started. The collapse of the Severan command structure." He looked at the three guardsmen before him after wiping his face clean.

"In the aftermath we were surrounded by the enemy, and Holt requested to die with honor. Knowing he would only be cut down the moment he emerged from the cover afforded to us by the passage of a leman russ tank, I denied his request so that we could die in the seconds to follow. But it was not to be. Drop troops gave us the opportunity we needed to make a run for the first trenches, and Holt bravely carried me over his shoulder under withering enemy fire until we made it to an flooded artillery crater we took shelter in. He kept my head above the water, and was ready to bring me to safety when a round from an autocannon had torn through his chest. In that moment I spied a ray of sun through the cavity, and immediately resolved to return so Holt's sacrifice would never be forgotten and that the enemy might one day know one of the men who turned the tide of battle yet lived. Holt was a hero. I will personally see to it that his death notice attests to his exemplary service within the imperial guard who made do with little and deprived the Imperium's enemy of it's best." Cyros lays a hand on the case of synth-sky. "We will sell this for throne gelt, throne gelt that will be sent to his next of kin to impart - from one family of Holt's to another - how much he will be missed. Now get to treating the wounded, on the double." He ordered his squad. "He gave his all saving my life, now it's our turn to pick up the pieces in this spaceport he couldn't."

 

[Beckoncall]

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Mazer walked up to Johnstonne and said "Johnstonne, you want to know why you're so bothered by Gilliam's death? Bothered by how senseless it all is? It's because you think too much, Johnstonne. You don't see how simple it is. You're bothered because you STILL think there's hope. But, Johnstonne the only hope you have is to accept the fact that you're already dead, and the sooner you accept that the sooner you'll be able to function as a soldier is supposed to function, without mercy, without compassion, without remorse. All war depends upon it." Mazer then took out his water canteen, poured some onto the ground where he last saw Gilliam and gave a somber toast "To you who have fallen and died as a soldier of Mankind." as he took a small gulp from the canteen.

With that, Mazer turned around and walked to the heavy bolter to give Johnstonne some time to decompress and digest what Mazer just said to him. With a giant shit eating grin on his face, Mazer cheerily said to Ramirez and Victrix "Fan-fucking-tastic, you two. First Trench is ours and only ours. Everyone else abandoned the first trench, but not us. We held the trench to the last. Now, we're going to help rebuild defenses and scrounge up some spoils of war and supplies. I don't trust the other units in the first trench to do a good job, and besides I think we deserve a bit of a rest instead of running after the cowards into the forest. So, gather whatever you can find that can be useful, and start repairing the defenses. Speaking of which, I've gotta go find my lasgun."

With that Mazer went over to where he had fought the heavy infantry captain to relieve him of the bladed gauntlet, find his lasgun or a suitable replacement, and then get some medical attention for his cooked shoulder.

 

[Beckoncall]

Cyros' unit was sad to see the Synth-sky go -- but the throne gelt to be given to Holts folk -- when the administratum could finally handle the logistics and paperwork -- would be considerable. "Seventeen years, 9 months, 3 days. But the Gelt will be delivered by Rogue trader with interest subject to that time. It would be almost two decades before Holt's people would hear of the kindness of Cyros' unit, perhaps that long to even hear about his demise. But the payment would be substantial.

Cyros made a full recovery though it took some time and some REALLY painful chirurgeoning and some enginseering to give him full but stiff mobility to his back -- and his skin was still pushing out shards of flak vest and likely would be for months. They made dark tan boils on his back, full of captured metal that were extremely painful. He was administered a nerve-dampener which barely worked but made cutting pieces of vest out of his back at least tolerable. Nyota had a talent for digging them out, which she did as a favor.

"Every wound survived, the kiss of a saint. Every deadly wound, a stroke of mercy. No Mercy for us, Cyros" Nyota clicked through clenched teeth. "We certainly get enough kisses though, don't we sir?"
Nayota placed a hand on Cyros' knee. "When you are ready for the rituals of mating -- I would like to submit candidacy, sir. Nothing emotional, I just think whatever sired by two folk so doomed not to die would be a tough bastard for the imperium's armies. Think on obliging me."

Johnstonne recovered after talking to Mazer... Mazer was given an extra large padded pauldron for his injured shoulder and a synth-flesh sleeve for his entire arm -- the covering was highly functional but entirely too big. Standard munitorium muck-up there.

Mazer found the Bladed gauntlet of the infantry captain, and took it as spoils. he wasn't sure if it was spring loaded or just prone to jamming, but the blades extended four inches farther if you hit the gauntlet with your other hand. It was a nasty weapon -- made for slicing flesh and parrying metal. His own gun was never found... he suspected it fragmented in a grenade blast, but he found plenty of adequate substitutes among the dead. One particularly well maintained Lasgun he found had a genuine purity seal on it -- which read over and over "A small mind is easily filled with faith" -- he took it before reporting to medical and oversaw his unit scrounge for material.

They turned most of the material they tagged and recorded back to the quartermaster -- but kept a couple of things just for them. A gaudy Dominate scope made of synthetic diamond lenses and a networking bridge for a cybernetic eye was too good to pass up. The Vanguard force of the Dominate has Kasrkin-style battle dress -- most of it riddled and wrecked by bolter fire -- but surprisingly unharmed significantly by Lasfire. There was enough for two suits of "Kasrkin Patchwork armor" -- though it needed to be painted to get the grey off of it lest they look like dominate troops. Ramirez found a heart-plate made of Blackstone -- a material the imperium couldn't even make anymore by common reckoning, at least for certain on the spinward front, and slipped it under his armor as a trophy and a life-saver. "When I muster out, I'm selling this Blackstone and buying a Chalet on Sekka V" Ramirez laughed through giant puffs of Lho-smoke. Victrix joked that covering a heart that wasn't there was a waste of good plating. They rejoiced in a confusing personal handshake they always did, and laughed.

The REAL prize -- found by Victrix -- was a lieutenant's servo-skull that they had knocked down as a spotter when the trench battle was at it's hottest. Gilliam kept a Servo-wafer (the original was completely cracked) in his gear that he used as collateral for trading things to keep the unit's gear in tip-top shape. He wouldn't need it anymore... Ramirez took the Wafer and plugged it into the servo skull and they were alarmed to see that Gilliam had conditioned the machine spirit in the chip to diagnosticate repairs and medical situations, as well as serve as a "top down" sitrep imager for Mazer's cybernetic eye. A guardsman would look strange with a Servo-skull -- and indeed enginseers first tried to acquisition it away from Mazer -- but the machine spirit would serve no other.

A red painted "X" was cera-melded to the servo-skull's forehead and the inside of it's eye sockets bore an inscription which icily mirrored how gilliam one suppose might have said -- "Even in death I still serve -- from flames, we purge the unclean."

Shoring up the defenses was hard work -- and Mazers unit went to bed exhausted beyond the fatigue from the fight -- but much gear was reclaimed and strategically placed shell-holes were turned into bunker-domes of sandback and ceramite.