83rd Bits'n'pieces.

[that1guy]

Commissar Vulkavitch had summarily executed with preference to his trusty sabre since a faulty plasma pistol accident that took his right hand and subsequently resulted in him being dragged from the top of the pyramid at blood river crossing. Shrieking the 83rd's grenadier squadon back up to seize death bunker. In the face of xeno's fire weathering the grenadiers into particles the brave Commissar leveled his plasma pistol and it blew his right hand off with the first trigger pull... just like the crushing defeat on the pyramid.

Sitting upright still smoking from his concussion Commissar Vulkavitch found his sabre with his left hand and his peaked cap with the phantom right that was no more than a smoldering stump of his last augmented amputation.

"Pvt. Dahker was right," the Commissar muttered to his still deaf ringing ears for the Grenadiers breaking and running for their lives were not listening to a word. "This is EXACTLY like back on the blood pyramid!!" He wailed taking to his feet Sabre brandished he marched up hill leaving his peaked cap behind on the battle field with so much other senseless waste.

For Commissar Vulkavitch in his own delirium was personally back at the fall of blood pyramid and he marched into the fog of war like a man possessed. "You don't turn your back on MEEE!!" he screeched for the ghost of the enemy commander. The sound of auto cannons, sniper rifles, the cries of today's hopeless agony muffled against his deaf ears but the grizzled maniacal chuckling of that demonic astartes was fresh and maybe clear like never before.
Determined not to be trampled aside like a child to die with his men this time. To hack respect into the flesh of his foe until they weren't laughing at him any more. The dazed Commissar charged up hill into certain death.

[that1guy]

Sgt. Lance was what they called a "hard born Cadian" in the trenches of Ebaimus Prime. He had been reassigned to the '83rd after Xenos death left his brother's armored collumn a charred ruin during the northern march from Fire Base Brutus. The majority of his time spent in the '83rd had been in the rear most reserve trench as far north from the command bunker as possible bullying the real estate into a complete pedigree of Cadia. Compiling a roster of other Cadian's, REAL Cadian's. Gathering hard veteran's loyal to him, Stock piling heavy weapon's including a relic power sword from the dark age of ebaimus prime.
Sgt. Lance had saved or stolen... how ever you wanted to look at it. Men and arms saved from the waste of the boy officer, who wouldn't know a Moridian from a Cadian. Throwing them at this hopeless hill. The Hard born Cadian Sgt. had saved a squad of 45 "ghost's" and set them to expanding the trenches, even digging a barracks bunker unknown to the rest of the 83rd. This was in addition to the 30 man squad of "real cadian's" that Lt. Paquette even knew about including recently filled auto cannon & mortar squads.
The vox in the trench squelched predictably stupid order's and Sgt. Lance wasn't about to waste one more Cadian on this damn bunker.
  " tell those Auto Cannon's to retreat, everybody in that forward trench fall back!" he barked drawing his magnoculars into focus on the Commissar who withered away into particles.  Sgt. Lance liked the man even though he found him a bit of a drunkard.  Maybe back when he was a Private would he have tried to save the Political Officer from himself, but the grizzled Sgt. had seen many men die for one another & he didn't like the Commissar THAT much.  Personal guard ran behind Lance setting up his newly aquired Auto Cannon "lady Merciless", by the time the first Mortar volley landed on death bunker obscuring the necron's, they were locking the first ammo drum into place and began pounding one warrior through his metallic chest knocking the xenos on its back.  But the ancient xeno's stood back up.  By vox Sgt. Lance walked the mortar fire down the steps of the assault ramp as the Necron persued an assault down through a 40 man squad of fake Cadian grenadier's the cold metallic march into their ranks with the same mechanical efficiency as he had seen them.  The secondary squad of old world grenadier's attached to Lt. Paquette's bulked up 30 man squad assaulting from the southern flank to support with grenade launcher &  to couldn't so much as stumble the crushing defeat.  

  "Get those Auto Cannon's set up behind that supply road!!" He barked to his heavy weapon crews before voxing to his bunker-ed ghost squad to come out of the grave & reinforce them.

  "What?!  Who is this Identify yourself!?" called back the vox from the complicit sniper commander hunkered comfortably away from the front line.  Word in the trenches was he only had contact with that farm boy officer these days when he handed him a list through a series of other hands or when he sent the boy to answer high command for what ever short comings in the hopeless assault on death bunker that had been grinding on since before Sgt. Lance even got to this mud pit.  He laughed in the oblivious Lieutenant's face this morning when he drew in the dirt & explained how His grenadier's, plus the Commissar's grenadier's, plus Sgt. Lances Squad equaled a platoon.

  By the time the auto cannon's had set up 3 Necron warrior's stood defiant glowing orange with the heat of concentrated lasgun fire one crawled back to it's legs before joining them and still the trail of xeno's casualties twitched if not in their broken paniced minds than surely some before their very eyes in reality.

[that1guy]

Captian Draco looked at his wrist chronometer in the Bunk pit behind the command bunker, it would be less than half an hour until his Catachan's took to the trenches. All the horror's of death bunker could be heard under the percussion of the 83rd's grenadier barrage's standing defiant under heavy casualties. Bolt rifle slung over his back the room stood proudly with him, except 5, wrestled to the center by the other 93.

"This is a little thing we like to call, 'in house business gentlemen!'" the Catachan captain began addressing the room as a lawyer in a court before taking a knife arrested from one of the 5 out cast's. 5 men the all pierced with bone, some had ork tusk's pierced in places that made the other Platoon's whisper of heresy amongst each other. While uniform regulation's wasn't something Captian Draco lost much sleep about, and it wasn't anything anyone but Major Brutus himself would have the stupidity to bother him with, assuming the bloated Officer could be bothered to come this close to the front. In all honesty the captain would spent more time doing sit ups and grooming his trade mark buzz cut before he would let anyone enforce uniform regulation's among his Catachan's. That wasn't something that happened in the '83rd.

The captain ran the index finger of his power fist over the edge of the confiscated blade. It was cruder than standard Catachan issue. Larger, heavier, with a miserable & crude edge untouched by finer whet stones but toned with malice over a grinding wheel.

"Karrick!" The captain directed the room's attention to one man held in a full nelson. The man had snake tattoo's entwining his throat, skulls inked into his knee's even what Draco would call Ork glyph's. "Where is snake now?"

"Snake's dead in duh bush, I told ya that's why we's came back here!" the man blubbered for his life.

The captain drove the blade straight under the rib cage of the center savage Catachan of the 5 out cast's Karrick's eye's bulged at the impossibility of watching his mate killed. Captain Draco sawed the blade down the centre of the man, grinding at an impossibly miserable pace with the crude blade gory to all but the utte most grizzled veteran's observing from front and center some drenched in the blood of the condemned.

Captain Draco punched his power fist into the tear and pulled a screaming parasite from the steaming guts gore piling upon the floor's. Wailing to the horror of all in the room this pink abomination slowly gnashed its needle like teeth pulling away membrane of catachan flesh with too human hands as it shrieked for air.
"What heresy has Snake wrought Karrick!?!" the Captain demanded shaking the abomination in the mercy of his power fist before ending the ugly fetus with a sickening pop in his crushing oversized mechanical left hand. With out shaking the sloppy gore from his palm he seized Karrick by the throat and pressed the still hot, wet blade to his face spliting Karrick's lips vertically with the crude edge until the judged squeeled for mercy.
"Where is Snake?!" Captain demanded again.

[that1guy]

[that1guy]

Sgt. Victor wrestled with the gimp boy officer over his old world pattern, muzzle loaded las musket.

"ARE YE DAFT BOY! THE DAY IS LOST!!" Lt. Paquette still waiting to recieve his new arm and new leg, sacraficed to the emperor in this miserable corpse troth of of a trench fell helpless in the mud. The boy officer shrieked like a child when he dropped his pistol amongst the mud & flesh & waste.

"Nooo!!" the boy screamed to contend over the incoming orkish mortar fire. "NOBODY RUNS WITH HIS GRANADE'S!! THROW THEM ALL BEFORE YOUR RETREAT!!! ANY MAN WHO RUN'S WITH HIS GRANADE'S I'LL SHOOT MYSELF!!!" His men stopped their route and huddled in the trenches rallying their grenades before standing what ground they could even if it was but for a few fatal heart beat's. It was enough time for metallic xeno's death to evaporate squads upon squads of men in Cadian kit struggling their damnedest to make the enemy's of the emperor flinch. Flanked from high ground the Necron's assaulted and broke Lt. Paquett'es Command in a few flashes of green gause fire. 1st Sgt. & Sgt. Victor dragged the boy officer from the trenches and for the first time in his 6 months on this back wards Agri-world the 83rd was completely routed. The veteran's of the old world campaign scrambled from all the trenches climbing the command bunker, Lt. Paquette holstered his las pistol once out of range, dragged ontop of the command bunker Lt. Paquette could now see to the reason why they called them fake Cadian's. For to the north the trenches held.
"Where? Where were those men when I ordered the assault?!?" the boy officers muttered to himself exasperated running his fingers through his scalp in disbelief & shock.
Suddenly cut off by Cadian accurate Auto Cannon and Mortar fire that seperated the two Platoon's of the 83rd in response to the Necron cutting a path inbetween them. Huddled together the men flinched at how close the Autocannon fire was coming to them. It pounded the Metallic infantry into submission and kept pounding them when they tried to get back up, and pounded them a little while longer after that.
"Emperor above!" Sgt Victor stopped reloading to point as Death bunker was assaulted both from the south by labor trucks carrying gene stealer's from out the tree line and from the north by a wave of Orks.
"EVERYBODY DOWN!! EVERYBODY TAKE COVER!!" Lt. Paquette screamed to his men taking mounted stubber fire from the labor trucks
"HERE SHE COMES AGAIN!!!" 1st Sgt Barked pointing to the Helldrake coming over the horizon of the Cresent Mountain's, the Beast descended upon death bunker and blasted the xeno's fighting over it, collected a claw full of each from the thickest of their ranks and circled round dumping their bodies before coming in for another swooping attack.
Just then a horn bellowed from the barracks and the Catachan's took to the trenches clearing the reserve trench with flamer's & granade's. The 83rd's trusty command Chimera Bug Hunter 1 pulled up to the access lot adjacent the command bunker and launched a hunter killer missile at the Labor trucks, missing and detonating in the brush behind it before exchanging fire with if from the turret mounted heavy bolter. Major Buzz cut loaded his melta vet's in Bug hunter 1 & a speacial weapon's team of sniper's into a Salamander transport than pulled up behind bug hunter 1 and began laying down accurate deadly fire into one of the labor trucks chipping it down into wreckage as it's perverted crew of xeno's tainted tried to return some sort of fire. Then keeping his command squad opposite of death bunker Major Buzzcut lead an assault into the southern most Secondary trench with Bug Hunter 1 between him and the horror over whelming death bunker.
Bug hunter 1 flooded the forward most trench line (or what was left of it)_with it's heavy Flame thrower harassing the rear most of the gene stealer assault into the direction it was possessed to attack with it's heavy bolter as the Catachan's swept into the Secondary Trench with Granades then fighting knives with minimal losses. Drawing cheer's and raised fist's from the old world vet's still recovering ontop of the command bunker. Major Buzzcut himself punched a whole both literally with his power fist into the northern flank knocking back the remanat's of the Neophyte squad found in there & then figuratively with his accurate and withering both rifle fire. The commanding Catachan could feel his own sniper's covering his flank closer than any other man alive would feel comfortable as he ordered his men onward.
"What's he? What's he doing?!?" 1st Sgt. asked watching squads of catachan's with flame thrower's and big fighting knives assault the southern most 1st trench while leaving some of the 2nd trench in enemy possession. The Salamander leaped forward over the reserve trench as it was abandoned and men ran over their brothers in the 2nd trench with out so much as stopping to say hello. They laid down a carpet of fire cutting a path where the Catachan's litterally hacked their way into the tree line and then the Major reloaded his rifle, grabbed the top of the 2nd trench and lead another assault over the top of it.
"He's... he's abandoning his post!" 1st Sgt proclaimed before anyone else could comprehend the chaos.
"Wait what?!" the boy officer clamored up to view grabbing his men's uniforms for support to prop himself up. Sure enough Lt. Paquette watched the Catachan's under his command fight their way into the tree line, and disappear.
"Oh Emperor above! Who's going to hold the line?!!?" As if to answer his question xeno's reserves broke ranks swarmed into the trenches Carnefexes dug into death bunker from behind a mound of corpses swelling the hill's own mass and offered covering fire for gaunts jumping into the trenches. Another cluster of carnefexes pressed into Bug Hunter 1 who tried to push the monstrous insectoids back physically with its heavy bolter while consuming swarms in flame from his hull mounted heavy flame thrower, but to no avail finally becoming torn to shreds by the claws of the bleeding beast. The Salamander skipped back into a hasty retreat once the Catachan's had evacuated and returned to the command Bunker where it's auto cannon and heavy bolter continued to heat into a warm glow shown in the barrel.
The hell drake swept down upon death bunker once again pressing deep into the xeno's ranks biting the head off of a carnafex so close Sgt. Victor could have easily hit them with a rock... if he wasn't busy fending off gaunts a bayonette point that is.
  Devestating fire power pounded the enemy back, as Leman's Russ Battle tanks drove a flanking manuver from the access road.  Cheer's rallied from the top of the command bunker as 6 heavy bolter sponsors, 3 hull mounted laz Cannon's &  3 battle cannon's took turn's clearing the bugs from the field of battle.  That squad flanked north behind the Cadian lines before halting their tracks and loaning their fire power to the Northern field immediately followed by more Leman's Russes.  A Demolisher Obliterated the Secondary Trenches sending a giezer of earth spewing in the air, and Annihilator covered the Demolisher with sponson mounted plasma cannon's and a hull mounted heavy bolter.  Chimera's rolled up to deploy infantry in support with a hydra flak vehicle in support that really pissed off the hell drake.  
  Bursting from the Command bunker under them came the Astarte's.  Leveling his melta gun he scored the hell beast's breast as it closed on a Chimera transport decapitated the multi laser turret, and breathing hell flame into the wound flushing out men broken in mind if their flesh was not withered off the bone.  The Astartes lept over the trench leading from the command bunker, dashed off the top hatch of the Leman's Russ Annihilator and sprung into the air at the forge spawn raptor.  A flash of green sprung into the great warrior's hand's and the illusion of a ghostly green great axe burst into his hands and took the Hell drake's head.  Landing as gracefully as a cat the weapon was gone from the Space Wolf's hand's as quickly as it appeared.  Behind the Ancient Warrior the Hell Drake collapsed upon the Chimera it wrecked.  Wings flapping unco-ordinated as the nerve's hadn't registered the clean laser crisp cut.  Another Leman's Russ plowed the wreackage forward with Punisher galting cannon's and flame thrower's clearing any infantry away from either trench.
  "Back in the trenches men!" Lt. Paquette said rallying his men, then stared at him in disbelief.  Doubting whether or not he really meant those words or where he gathered the heart to ask them to take him back in their.  They shuffled back down the bunker and held a very small section of the trenches, very close to the leman's russ tanks.  Then large mortar's held the line, literally falling in pattern with his trenches and sweeping them back to the tree line.  During the resulting lull men and ammunition swelled the ranks and the boy officer dared not lead another charge into the obliterated trench works .  But that frosty night they clung close to the rear trenches sometimes huddling neer the rear exhaust for warmth while they reloaded.  The rest of the trenches shadow's lurked in shelter of flanking auto cannon's, that night the line held and Lt. Paquette's 17 survivor's watched him break down with indecision as if to laugh or sob to cheer's of "Big gun's never tire!" up and down the battle field.  The only thing he knew was he needed to stand with his men & fire his pistol at those shadow's in the night even though he didn't know why, for they never dropped, twitched, or yelped.  

[that1guy]

When the tide of battle settled on the chilly trench works of the '83rd's occupation, Sgt. Lance stalked behind the trenches with his command squad as most the awed Guardsmen rallied around this Savior Astartes and his Legendary trophy. Climbing the inclined pallet steps to the command bunker with power sword drawn men covered him with las rifle's & shot gun's. Slipping through the open door like a shadow and with a few quick blinks he slipped into the middle of the room catching all off guard.
"W-What is the meaning of this!?" Demanded an officer in smartly pressed uniform decorated with ribbon's Sgt. Lance imagined were earned at tea parties & if Sgt. Lancer were to judge the tone of this man (which he did) he would say this noble's voice dripped with entitlement.
"Field Promotion," the Hard born Cadian Sgt said curtly before swiftly decapitating the man.

[that1guy]

Lt. Paquette limped with the help of his men toward the access road that supplied his trenches. Just before it were men abandoned of post, not where their duty designated.

"You there!" Demanded the boy officer pointing his one good hand at a the ego's in this circle. "I am in command here!!"

"None of you are fit to command me whelp!" spat the Astartes "...& I am in command of my trophy and my two lost companion's!" He Grunted lifting the Hell drakes severed head over his shoulder and taking his leave of the scene planting the head facing the access road up to death bunker.  Foot mounted on the foul beasts head the Space wolf leveled his meltagun at his waist and picked off xenos scum swarming the wrong way down that ramp.  Emptying his canister and reloading a fresh one the Astartes shot with an old hunter's precision.  Raising an eye brow into the tides of battle where the orks & tyranid's became too alike & yet still fought against one another.  All over this accursed mound of corpses for reason's that reeked of supernatural.  He estimated the verteran's in these trenches understood their was another war going on here before them, but high command certainly didn't have a clue.  Certainly not from the propeganda pamphlets, if he was foolish enough to believe them.

"You do not sound in command!" Spoke a Sgt. with power sword possibly twice his age sitting on the fender of a Laman's Russ tank.  Slipping off the tank the Cadian landed with the grace of a cat and re-postured on the ground leaning on the sheathed blade with the balance of a dancer as the boy officer leaned in aggressive pursuit.
1st. Sgt. bayed the boy officer noting that the circle was more than a cluster of men around a Leman's Russ tank when the tank ground away in reversemen stopped being a circle & started siding with the arrogant Cadian Sgt. who carried an old world sword sheathed over his shoulder.  Too few old world vet's remained to mount a defense capable of holding Lt. Paquette's lines stood looking alone over the corpses of the metallic xeno's who broke their lines yesterday & refused to stay down all night. Paranoia halting their advance Sgt. Victor fixed his long bayonette as soldier's of the old world & Cadian's pied off to flank each other, Imperial Soldier's pointing las rifle's at fellow Imperial's.
"Wait! WAIT!!" Screamed the boy officer "Hold your fire!! Check your muzzle!"
"You ain't giving the order's around here any more boy!" barked back a 70year old Cadian Private with a flick of a cigarette containing more marksmanship than Lt. Paquette held in his laz pistol over the dead ground between them, before a smooth hand signal from Sgt. Lance calmed his Cadian's into lowering their rifles.
"This is the way it works Lieutenant," spoke Sgt. Lance as he reached down to grab a chain in the ground with the another Cadian on the opposite end of the chain they drug the Necron's still sleeping and mounted them on the plow's of their tanks and armored personel carrier's to draw them in formation facing Lt. Paquette & his old world vet's.  The main turret's traversed to provide fire support into Lt. Paquette trenches over his head.  "I get all of the Cadian's and you get to keep your stupid clip board!!"  he shouted spinning the clip board acrossed the dead zone to the deafened boy officer. 

[that1guy]

Sgt. Lance left Lt. Paquette that cold, grey autumn morning with his exhausted old world veteran's huddled around a Leman Russ who brought them heat, recaff & a crate of sand bags. They regrouped their ammunition under the vents of the tanks plasma sponson's which exchanged fire with carnafexes dug into where the gimped boy officer called his front lines. Lt. Paquette struggled to fill sand bags with Sgt. Victor who couldn't find any more muzzle loader cartriges for his old world las rifle & though a hero of Lt. Paquette (though he never told him so to his face) the old world vet had never learned how to fire a magazine fed laz rifle.  Lt. Paquette was starting to doubt if he himself had ever figured out how to fire his las pistol but they both knew how to operate a shovel.  So they dug themselves a hole next to the treads of that tank it's twin linked auto cannon's repulsing traitor sentinel walker's, hull mounted heavy bolter fired direct controlled bursts that became the clock work of their day.   When the sand bags were full Lt. Paquette took his turn loading an old world gatling rifle salvaged from the trenches by a veteran who wore a Cadian Helmet but an old world breast plate.  Their actions held the central access trench from assault by infantry that had set up in his secondary trenches all of them from the over look of death bunker.

Sgt. Victor rallied up enough men to fill a squad that put up a solid defense of the Southern most reserve trench farthest from Death Bunker.  They managed to repel a thin wave of gaunts and a not so thin one after that as the wounded and dying were taken under to the barracks bunker.  Almost a whole platoon of men who were too wounded to fight maybe some who could fight soon after seeing a medic but the beds were filled & not from the exhausted 1st Sgt who emerged from the barracks only after all the wounded were accounted for.  "Sorry I am late!" 1st Sgt. shouted over the gatling rifle, "they were out of melta ammo in the trenches!"  he punctuated emptying the drum of the Granade Launcher he requisitioned & crept down low into the cover Lt. Paquette had dug his command squad.  After reloading 1gt. Sgt. was far more calculating with his marksmanship Cpl. Thatcher crawled into the command pit with a bag full of loaded ammo drums for 1st. Sgt.'s Granade Launcher, "What took you so long?" barked the grizzled Guardsman.

  "I got my bloody leg tore off!" the old world paradox said raising his newly bandaged stump.  For some reason everyone in the command hole got a laugh out of that, even Cpl Thatcher.

The Gatling rifle stayed hot that day smoking in the cool autumn frost, but the centre stage of the drama was the exhange between  the leman's russ tank & Canefex squad pounding each other the tank concentrated all of it's fire on the beast's.  The xenos brutes held formation eerily reflective to the imperial's and between the exchanged they lodged a long barbed spear of bone through the hull mounted heavy bolter of the tank silencing the gun.  Cheer's erupted from the trenches for the tank felled one of the three carnifexes.  The boy officer managed to take in a cup of recaff between reloadings of the gatling rifle.  When the waves of xeno's awashed another tide, ever thicker the fragment's of the '83rd held the line against these waves of gaunt's.

  Heavy coordinated mortar fire rained ontop those dug in carnifexes and to ever more cheer's, the bowel shaking bass trembling under foot and more mortar's of smaller caliber rained in almost clock work precision in an after rhythm where the heavy weapon's team's mortars sounded in snare to the Wyvern's base.  Sgt. Victor held the corner of the reserve trench with fixed bayonet & granades Lt. Paquette assisted over head with las pistol's from him & Cpl. Thatcher with laughable effect.  Yet the '83rd held the last pass.

  In frustration the boy officer picked up a rock rather than reload his las pistol and popped a gene stealer cultist in the temple dropping him like a sack of fertilizer. He resisted celebrating and went back to reloading the Gatling rifle adopted by his command squad.  And still the '83rd held, breaking the last of the cultist's with a flame thrower blast from another old worlder who probably never learned to fire a magazine fed las rifle.  Two chimera's fired multi-lazer's & heavy bolter's over shoulder in support with tank traps chained to their plows.  Launching off of the corner of the access road both to the left & right of the Hell Drake skull that face up the pass to Death bunker.  They breaked hard and dropped those plows the men inside disembarking & busting loose the tank traps with hefty bolt cutters.  The chimera's with drew focusing fire on Killa cans climbing the north steep atop death bunker where it  and it's friends tore apart the last Canifex driven from his trench by accurate & punishing heavy support.

  The squad's of men left the chimera's after stretching razor wire from the newly planted tank traps to his command pit & another squad into Sgt. Lance's trenches.  "You've got to load your wounded into the chimera's!" these men told the boy officer with order's they didn't give him time to read before they took the reserve trench passed the word down the entire '83rd was being relieved.  A Turox transport pulled off the access road into formation with the chimera's battle cannon joining their surpressive fire in the heart of the fighting before men disembarked.  An officer in an uniform out of place even for the ranks of the bits'n'peices in the context that it was too pressed, too trim, too out of place amongst the wrinkled soaked & soiled uniforms of men living in the trenches.  The officer aproached the command pit as his special weapon's team joined the reserve trenches with Granade Launcher's of their own design.

  "Is Leutenant Paquette here?" the officer spoke firing a las rifle in neer mechanical bursts of automatic spray, his command squad wheeled up a Heavy bolter behind him as 1st Sgt. pointed the Moridian Officer's attention to the one legged, one handed boy officer.  Holding his las pistol in his teeth, inserted a fresh power pack.  Shaking from fatigue, hunger & wet cold.  Caked in mud Lt. Paquette didn't look or feel much like an officer.  "I am Leutenant Kimmler of the Moridian embassy & I have been sent here to relieve you, by order of your company commander, a Colonel Monacuell?" Lt. Paquette shook his head in response while reloading the gatling rifle.

  "What?" he squinted back at the Moridian before being startled back down range and firing his pistol at ghost's of nothing, born of dillusion.  Shadow's in the fog of war.  The Moridian did not have time to stand on formalities when his orders formally ordered him to take post here now.  

  "You are relieved Leutenant!!"  The Moridian Officer took hold of the gimped boy officer by his good arm and hopped him down the plank steps as his heavy bolter wheeled into place of the gatling rifle, "Good day to you sir!" the young lieutenant stumbled into the fetal position when some thing that sounded like bee's wizzed over his head.  1st. Sgt. picked the boy up and hobbled him to the Chimera almost full of wounded the men helped him crawl into the back & raise the rear hatch behind them.  Sgt. Victor marched the walking wounded into the Turox as another Chimera pulled off before the access road lending the very limit's of it's heavy bolter's  sweeping the southern steep of death bunker.  A medic attached to a Cadian  Leutenant escorted those who could not walk to the chimera's as they filed off one by one.  

  "A little something to remember us by!" Laughed 1st. Sgt leveling his granade launcher along side the gatling rifle both men fired every round they had down range and anything that thought of moving and some things did!  Soon a collumn of Leman's Russ Tank's pulled in led by a Plasma Executioner and the tank laid down a storm of heavy bolter fire sweeping over the battle field.  The bright blue blast from the main turret took into the Orks ranks for lack of a more glorious target and the tank never stopped or broke course from the main access road following it north deep into Cadian lines followed by the Chimera Lt. Paquette's chimera, followed by a Demolisher with no sponson's but a plow mounted to it's front.  This tanks wreckless driver took corner's churning up sod turned by tracks already off balance before it let off it's thunderous payload into Orks mounting a charge close to Cadian held lines.  The Turox with Sgt. Victor's walking wounded filed in behind this Demolisher, which had the for sight to break off road just before the Armored collumn came to a stop & go check point initiated by the Leading Executioner tank.  In which the vehicles were directed infront of auto cannon lanes of cross traffic.  The gunner would raise his barrel when empty and wave the tanker forward as the heavy weapon was reloaded.  Only for the tank to pause (never in firing rate from it's own weapon's) but it didn't take long for the next auto cannon gunner to run dry and signal the vehicle to lurch on another tank length and it worked like the driver's had done it a hundred times layering combined arms over overwhelmingly into xeno's ranks.  In traffic 1st. Sgt. Watch the Demolisher up heave the access ramp to Death Bunker launching bombardment after bombardment of Ordinance that buried trenches 1st Sgt. couldn't admit he didn't want to redig.   In all honesty he wanted to leave it the smouldering crater it was as they drove away now.

[that1guy]

When the Plasma Executioner pattern Leman's Russ cleared the final Cadian traffic check it took off churning up wet earth and belching up black rolling coal. "Armored collumn keep up, I don't want to hear no com checks or calls to stop or turn around! You get in where you can fit in & if you can't keep up you get left behind! Over and out!" chimera's accelerated to keep up 1st. Sgt. took his helmet off to run his bare hand over his head while a dozen men slept soundly under him. This breath of fresh air was ever so brief because like the morning tide waves of brutal green xeno's came rolling in. Crashing over burnt abandoned husk's of various chimera chasis & wrecked Leman's Russ Tanks most destroyed by their own crews during a mass retreat.

The Imperial convoy pressed their throttle wide open, their weaponry never found cause for silence. At the front the Pasma Executioner cannon pounded an Ork bike squad that tried bullying it into a game of chicken on the high way. The driver declined to play when he swerved off the road launching air born into a field of soft planes it's heavy bolter's chattering away reliably, the following Chimera swerved to follow the leader's track marks as closely as his suspension could manage, multi laser & heavy bolter tried to deter the Xeno's biker's from following as what was left of the squad was rallied by a Chain axe toting Nob bashing heads & turning their bikes to follow the three APC's escaping them but not before the following demolisher could oblige their game of chicken. Plow first.
The Imperial convoy rallied back on road Plasma Executioner leading the race north concentrating fire with an ork buggy who also wanted to play chicken but the buggy met a swift searing fate and was stamped flat by the tank. In the rear pulled up another set of chimeras who too just dropped off ammunition racing to catch up behind the demolisher and a Punisher pulled up behind them taking up the rear with its sweeping gatling turret providing unyeilding cover for the chimera's infront of it.
In front the lead tank feinted right before a battle fortress aiming for the leman's Russ flank at ramming speed, swinging left the Imperial convoy shot it's way behind Xeno's lines. From this angle all could see the logistical genius of the Ork was far beyond any credit the Commissariate would lend the xeno's. Three trukk's followed in eclipse of the battle fortress completely hidden from sight by it's hulking mass. From this angle the crew of the lead tank took a breath to appreciate the intricacy of this trap just before cornering right back towards the road concentrating all 3 heavy bolter's on the trukk farthest from the battle fortress & racing right toward it's rear armor firing it's plasma executioner cannon once the heavy bolter's had marked the target at range chattering bolter fire sweeping surpressive fire over the tides of Ork who rolled over each other like sea foam lost of momentum some still unsure of what went wrong with their trap.
With a firey explosion of greesy oily smoke the Executioner cannon blew up the trukk sending a pulse of eye blinding blue into the rear troop compartment, through the cab vaporizing the driver and company inside with still enough energy to bore a hole deep into the engine. Swerving back north so close to the wreckage the tank jumped back onto the road leading the imperial convoy away from the next tidal wave of brutes from the supporting assault force brutes that battered each other in childish temper tantrums when trophy's of so much loot just raced out of reach with little less than multi lazer & heavy bolter suppression. As if to announce their departure Leman's Russ Punisher brought in the rear and cut the xeno's ranks up while it's hull mounted flamer scorched it's way back on to the road. 1st. Sgt. found he had pleanty of target's to shoot his Granade Launcher at which started to gnaw at the back of his mind, then the convoy slowed which made 1st. Sgt. worry this gnawing premonition may be more but, 'who could tell with the Orks?' he figured.
Pulling into the Executioner Plasma Turret range the imperial provided fire support for a downed Valkyrie craft with out coming to a complete stop but once the Multi Lazer's of the Chimera's came into range enough fire was mustered to allow scion's to recover their wounded, the pilot jettison the craft before counting their blessings in the troop compartment of the rear most chimera in the convoy. The lead tank was already at full throttle before the Punisher could escort the rear back on road.

"I thought you said we was leaving people behind!" the squelched over the comms

"You callin' me a liar? I can hear you laughing back there!" he copied back before sweeping his turret left to right in search of a new target. He didn't have to wait long either before a small flock of deffkopta's swooped south to also play chicken with the convoy. Rockets pounded the lead tank as it hit back hard vaporizing a kopter in return before they rammed head first into the Turox behind them disabling it turret, yet the Imperial convoy raced on through the smoke & wreckage. "Throne above!" the lead tank accidentally voxed and before anyone else could ask, look or comprehend the transmission a seismic thunder lurched the lead vehicles into the air some a few hands high. The compression in the atmosphere took the air out of everyone's lungs with something akin to the demolisher cannon's earth crushing ordinance yet less crisp.
The lead tank again swerved right launching off road because the road had been destoryed. Left a smoking crater behind which a lumbering Stompa marched not only to block the road & play chicken but to just destroy the road and what ever loot so happened to be found upon it.
"Pop smoke! Everybody pop smoke!" squelched the lead tank "Don't stop! Do not engage!" he ordered out firing his Plasma Executioner cannon as soon as he raced out from behind the smoke screen from the Stompa's own dakka. 1st Sgt. fired krak granades at the face of the stompa to surprising effect when a detonation in the giant constructs eye drew screams of rage and the beast reached straight for his chimera seeing where the lucky shot had come from. Knocked off balance by a Demolisher cannon blast sqare into its flank the Stompa was missed short of the convoy and was rammed subsequently by the same tank with it's plow raise high at full throttle. Roares of frustration and pain blurred the sky as the wounded Construct set to blowing up the road with its vengeance and comical abundance of ordinance. Shrieking and leaning for the armored column another Demolisher cannon explosion burst forth from the Stompa's other side and the tank pulled out the exit wound accelerating to shake off groping scrap & catch up with the rear of the convoy. Pulling away from the green tide the armored column raced away a kilometer and a half north they slowed & pulled right halting by a river pull off. "Chimera's break off & cross here we'll take the Turox north to the bridge where we can all cross. Happy trails guardsmen!" There the chimera's crossed the river waving good bye to their escort.

[that1guy]

Before the armored collumn left his traffic check points Sgt. Lance left his hard born Cadian Trenches to stalk for gear on the the old world's side of death bunker. Back on his Cadian side things were left stable, command left in the capable hands of his right hand man, Cpl. Sneede. Power sword left behind in the armory Sgt. Lance looked just like any other Cadian dragging ammo out of the resupply. Laz rifle slinged over his shoulder Sgt. Lance made sure first & most importantly to bring the Leman's Russ Auto cannon ammo this new Moridian Officer commanded from beside.
"About time! Where is Col. Monacuell? I was told he would brief me of the situation upon my arrival!" the Officer shouted over his heavy bolter team's accurate fire power.

"He's taking a nap over in the Cadian trenches!" Sgt. Lance lied. "Just came back from brunch with Major Brutus at high command, gave strict order's not to be disturbed!" the Sgt. relayed unable to keep the smirk completely off of his face. Lt. Kimmler kept bearing of a stoic face bred of a Moridian Officer. Instead turning his rifle down range the Lt. emptied his power pack in controlled sprays, taking care not to waste ammunition deserving of the almighty God Emperor's enemies.

"!I will be filling a proper complaint to the Departmento Minist--" Lt. Kimmler & his bearing were interrupted when the Cadian Sgt. took a break from hauling can's of heavy bolter ammo to quickly whip the very exact request form Lt. Kimmler refereed to out of his back pocket, like a comedian ready with a prop. Sgt. Lance handed it to the officer just as fast as he went back to hauling in extra ammunition for the heavy bolter. Lt. Kimmler considered himself a smart man but he wasn't sure if the Sgt. was joking with him, or just gotten too close to a Harlequin & lived to tell about it.
"!Be sure to mention to him I am personally giving you a verbal demerit here and now about your shaving regulation's at..." The Lt. finished reloading and looked at his wrist chonometer " 15:22 Moridian hours!" and returned his laz rifle to fire down range for a wave attack of gretchin who's line became perverted with promiscuity toward the great devourer.
"I'll be sure to get right on that sir," Sgt. Lance lied again.  Slipping away from the Command pit as the Moridians dedicated focused fire towards the tide of cross bred xenos deployed against them all.  These vile abomination's were out cast today in an odd & brief turn of the war for ebaimus prime. From the Orks side of death bunker (& today the Orks controlled controlled most of death bunker the Savage xeno's ceased fire upon the gene stealer cult's infesting the woods also in contention for death bunker. The two sides expelled the inbreds between into the trenches of Imperial control. Twisted green gaunts & Orks with extra insectoid appendages thrown from their homes in some genocidal purge. Thrown into the awaiting mercy of the almighty God Emperor.
Sgt. Lance, his command squad and the ghost's of Cadia he brought with him disappeared into the fake Cadian's. He himself stole a thick quilted silk jacket left behind by one of the many old world casualties trucked off by the meat wagons. Winter was coming in & resupply was probably going to be exactly as desperate as Sgt. Lance had found on every other battle field he survived. It also crossed his mind that taking a bit of the '83rd's dress code would help him blend right into the trenches. Right along side the rest of these poor mortals.
  Immediately after they joined the rush of fake Cadians for the secondary trenches, clearing them with shot guns before too much bayonette had to be done.  They slipped out with the wounded on stretcher's, Sgt. Lance himself pretended to be wounded wrapping his face in medical gaus before having his command squad stretcher him back to the Cadian side of death bunker.  Carried out under the Moridian Lieutenant's very nose.

[that1guy]

Hadrada could not deny his fame as a hunter any longer, home behind enemy lines he was free to stalk after leaving the scout's of Gulliman with the '83rd. Negotiations with the alpha of those admirable mortals Hadrada found he could pawn the Astartes scout sniper's off & the Space Wolf found this fact delightfully mischievous. Separating the two like children and abandoning them where they would find no shortage of targets which would keep them both happy earning glory for their individual chapter. Yet, they were safe so with out guilt his mind was free to hunt.

And hunt he did as soon as he vanished into the dusk & fog of war. Closer to his prey than he cared to bring the pups of Gulliman. For the scouts of Russ were no naive. In fact his enemies called him the "ancient of Ebaimus prime" these days. Foe's he deemed unworthy of a glorious, violent end had told him he wasn't real. As he tortured information out of them they told him he was spoken of as a phantom among the ranks of heretics. And in their negotiation's with the Ork and gene stealer cult's so had his legend taken root.

The scent of the planet was becoming thicker with the spores of xenos, some treaty had been struck between the Ork & Tyranid. All who had seen their behavior between yesterday and the day before could not imagine that agreement was written on a piece of paper or recorded into a data slate. But it was undeniable by all but high command and the Commissariat. Hardada watched the moon for time, pressed to escape the sun as a rabbit from a wolf. Still, this 'fame' concerned him it changed the land scape of this hunting ground not like the sun changed the world when it rose, but as if the yellow sun of holy terra it's self turned blue and stained the ecosystem forever after. It changed the planet like these spores did or this 'treaty' had changed the strategy of the war. Assuming the mortals possessed the wisdom to adapt.

Meltagun slung acrossed his back the ancient of Ebaimus prime could not remember the last time his pouches and pack were so full of ammunition, ration's, granades and all sorts of other supplies some medical, lots of cord, and even two bound and gagged gretchin. Patting their heads like toddler's strapped to his chest Hardada closed on a tree line to forrest untouched from any main engagements of the planetary war. "Almost there boyo's," he taunted being too friendly. "Soon we're going to have breakfast, it's not either of you in case you were wondering," he huffed between breaths at pace. "And we're going to have a nice chat," he covered their faces from the brush as he waded into the forest once deep among the eldest of trees he stopped and smelt something. He was not alone, this was something's hunting grounds. A Tyranid who hunted alone by the smell of it.
He listened worried who had heard him taunting the Grots. He motioned to the grots for silence even though they were gagged, warning them of the danger was detrimental to all of their survival and the Space Wolf appealed to that like a planetary governor practiced and educated in appealing to the high lords of Terra. Slowly they continued, silently. Ears twitched to confirm imaginary sounds. As the sun peeked through the canopy they settled on top of a hill and were sat circled around a ration pack. In silence he un tied them and shared his meal, the two Grots looked at each other fearfully for support. Instinctually afraid to make any sudden moves, afraid to breath to hard, they chewed on his generosity ever so nimbly uncertain how they had come to rely upon a hummie for security.
"Now this is whats going to happen," Hardada began almost in a whisper "I am going to tie you to a tree here & I am going to tie you to a tree some where out there," he told them pointing to each grot relative. "then I'm going to ask you both the same questions and when I catch you lying to me--" He drew an elven sword from acrossed his back before continuing "I am not going to be so nice as you find me now my friends," he watched them stop chewing and look at each other with tears in their eyes. Shaking at his promise.
In the distance they could hear the Demolisher cannon's making their morning rounds past death bunker and the battle picked up pace. The ancient of ebaimus prime knew the clash there was important in the grand scheme of things but a hunter's greatest weapon was patience. Though he loved his melta and was an expert with many different weapons he knew the greatest weapon in history was the element of surprise.

[that1guy]

Deep into the forrest's of Ebayimus Prime Major Draco divided his Catachan's into harassment & harvest squads. Logistically three squads shifted between harassing forces still dedicated else where in the campaign. Priority was not to directly dedicate but gather intel. They spent several days out in the bush with order's not to directly engage or lead the enemy back into camp, but Captain Draco couldn't stop these men from directly engaging the juiciest and most bountiful of opportunities. Major Draco didn't care to reprimand these men for disobeying his orders.

Harvest duty he also had to order to not directly engage and as long as they returned often with food stuff's & supplies from the land scape uncorrupted by the tides of tyranidic spore clouds shifting in the ecosystem of ebayimus prime. He didn't care to reprimand these men either when they disobeyed his orders.

The third squad caught up on R&R unless they were being reprimanded, in which case they kept busy around his new fire base, digging an intricate series of trenches a top the most remote hill they could claim. It was surreal to them all being away from the constant wave attacks of the trenches, for weeks his men kept whispering to each other; "it's too quiet," some where in his gut Major Draco wanted to vocally agree with them.

For a week he held his piece, the men looked to him to see confidence. Even if a commander was unsure of the tides of fate he needed to project confidence to his men. To take his mind off of it he helped the heavy weapon's teams dig in to their fortifications. Double checking each cannon's field of fire with obsessive compulsion. Every day since he established the fire base he sat atop it and ate fruit in view of some tempting fields of fire. "Snake is out there, watching us," he confided in his men on the third day. A couple days later he was so sure of it he ceased to expose himself in this predictable location. That's the thing other guardsmen seemed to not understand about Catachans. You had to come at your enemies from other angles, you had to make them dance, you had to evolve.

At the end of that week Major Draco stayed under ground with his "repremanded" men listening to them talk about turning the fruit's of harvest into wine while some of them helped him finish digging out the storage bunker for his fire base. But it wasn't long before someone changed the subject. PFC. "Full Tang" a tall, ferocious, & robust black skinned warrior was the first to change the subject.

"Emperor above it's too--" he bagan before Major Draco snapped on him

"!!ENOUGH!!!" he screamed at the young man it was the first time the Major spoke above a whisper since leading his men into the bush bolt rifle first. "!!I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY MORE TALK ABOUT HO--" he ceased suddenly and every one took a deep breath as they came to also hear the vibration that froze the Catachan commander in his own tantrum. "!Tang take your boys get to the fox holes infront of those Laz Cannons! Command squad on me!" and he led them into the tunnel amplifying the catastrophic...

"wwwwWWaAaAaAa--" bellowing into the subterranean storage.

[that1guy]

"You are telling me there will to be no color guard!?! Where is Lord Commissar Krutzburg this is vital to moral!" Demanded the obese Major Brutus testing the suspension of his mobil command throne when he lean forward to shout at the most familiar of his command retinue.
"the Lord Commissar could not attend this morning's ceremony M'lord. He had to personally produce propaganda due to the traitor's routed from that ministry's office this week," replied a sharp clean, cut, Captain who reeked of cologne.
"Yes, very well, treacherous Operation!" Grumbled the Lord Militant of Ebayimus prime turning back to his break fast huffing as he stuffed his face over the map of his territory and territories he eyed to claim.
"He suggested you record the announcement in your chamber's M'Lord," the sharp Captain suggested with a raised eye brow anticipating Major Brutus to choke on such information which he did "Said it would be more efficient logistically,"
Major Brutus coughed his eggs clear of his wind pipe and snatched his napkin off of his display table. Clumsily the Major wiped his mouth clear but not before he rose his voice again.
"But what about ceremony!?! What separates us from these lower life forms?!? If not for humanities sake, what are we with out order?! He shifted side to side in command throne clinching the napkin in his fist and pounding at the indigestion in his chest. With a huff he consigned himself to the fact that he was running short on man power, a reality until now he had been able to avoid facing. His new strategy was in anticipation of this which calmed the Lord Militant enough to return hunched over his breakfast. Stuffing his face with a large fork fulls of eggs & cheese Major Brutus wished the timing of his new campaign was closer to clock work he could see it in his own face when he washed his breakfast down with dark recaff. Slurping and gulping ever deeper to be rid of this reflection. The sharp Captain watch the strain of command on Major Brutus shoulder's, it winded him like a heavy pack on a conscript. His eye's watched for any hint of weakness and they gleamed as a pirate's eye does so for treasure.
"Very well," Major Brutus resigned "Tell 1st. Sgt Milo not bother pressing my uniform,"

"I already have Sir," 1st. Sgt Milo rebuttled as if he had personally ironed the Major's XXL dress uniform.

"!!Emperor above DAMN IT!!" the Lord Militant blasphemed as if he too had personally ironed his own dress uniform, shattering his dining wear with his fists in complete rage. 1st. Sgt. Milo watched the Sharp Captain Dinenzo smile as Major Brutus tended bleeding cuts with his napkin.

"Yet... there is good news," the Captain baited manipulatively.

"!And what may that be ?!?" sneered Major Brutus still the only one sitting.

"It seems that Commissar Vulkavitch has met a glorious end on his western front," Captain Dinenzo added with a sly smile.

"Oh!?" Major Brutus commented with a stark change of tone. Peaked ears and cruel smiles from all & obvious to all lifted the mood in the room.

...a few hours later, Major Brutus had retired to his quarters and employed imperial remembrancer's to record the beginning of his new campaign as it was important for moral after all.
m
With skull probes recording his voice, retinue of high command was free to dictate the remembrancers depict Major Brutus in full dress uniform and fit to walk upon his own two feet.

"Soldier's the Immortal God Emperor! Celebrated Astra Militarum savior's! Anvil of HIS devine will!" The Major began reading from his data slate over bi-focals crafted by local artisans.

"Today we commence the completion of a major objective in the quest to retake Ebayimus Prime! Today the evacuation of Loyalist natives has reached completion! All Imperial citizens on the face of our trophy world are dedicated to the war as of this point. Which frees our run ways and landing pads to complete and utter logistical service in support of a grand new campaign that shall change the very nature of the holy war from henceforth! Which pleases me to announce the initiation of Operation Pyre Wyrm!!" The Lord Militant purred on this name with satisfaction of a man already assured of success.

"Today we draw a new line on the battle field in flaming promethium and we shall march forward to hold that new line!" He growled shaking his fist as if he was actually going to march along side his own men into the heart of the enemy.
"Today a legion of hell hound flame tanks unlike any before seen in this sector has began unloading into Fire base Brutus & shall drive a convoy of retribution straight into the heart of the enemy for months on end with a supply of promethium to endure through all of winter and into the year beyond that!!" Major Brutus paused to collect his breath but played it well to dramatic effect.
"Celebrate the sounds of demise our foes shall scream Guardsmen, soon you will hear it in your trenches, soon we shall purge His incinerating mercy upon the suffering existence of the xenos and the Emperor is divine to have mercy upon them because we shall not!"

[that1guy]

  When Deltrus was honored with the responsibility of an Ultra Marines scout he had dreamed of moments like these, sought vain glorious duty and service to the most honored of Chapter's in all of the immortal God Emperor's service.  He didn't know glory would come at him like this, cut off from his honorable chapter like the heavy mortar barrage before him.  The explosion's cut the stage of glory and the scene of violence was their through his scope again.  A rush of Ork's came through the barrage, at the end of his scope he could see the poor front line rifleman abandoning his hand granades drawing the Ork into thier ranks. 'Ard boy's were called forward safety off his rifle Deltrus head shoted the largest to slow the Green tide into 1st trench.
  When the Space wolf scout left Deltrus here it seemed inglorious at the time, unsurprising now the initiate thought checking the ammunition level of his rifle. The wisdom of the veteran had earned the Ultra Marine Scout's respect 6 lunar clicks ago on this misbegotten planet.  The Wolf's sick sense of humor was never as alien as one wished.  For months Hadrada pulled together the an odd scout squad apparently by fire light story and gullible youth the space wolf was the last of his own pack who all died off on some other planet.  When the odd trio delved further into that tale, it turned into "One never wander's farther than when lost," what ever that ment.  Another 'loyalist' scouts depending on how one defined loyalty.  But after the great enemy wrestled control of the lands west of the crescent mountains the rout had found Deltrus in the refuge of some strange companionship provided only by the chaos of war.  It scolded his Macragian pride to co-operate with scouts of other chapters, even if necessary to reconnect with the 13th.. EDIT.  Suffering the indignity of being treated like a child by the ancient scout of Russ.  Left behind Hadrada explained to him that being among the mortals was; "the glory you didn't even know you were looking for," at the time this too felt as if being scolded or snubbed like a child but here pre-dawn, looking through the star light scope of his sniper rifle could now see the ancient warrior of Russ was wise. 
  This inspired disillusion of grandeur in his zealous heart.  There was not glory here that would be recognized in watching Sgt. Lance lead this retreat, squads of guardsmen filing into toward his raised sword just as it lured the Ork to him as well.  His personal command squad held the beast's at bay with pump action shotgun's huddling close to the Commander as the last of the retreat was filed in and secure under trench. 

  Sgt. lanced after being over run by Ork biker's on the front leapt from the forward trench with his great power sword and slashed left and right with swift bounds through the waves of Orks until he perched atop a tank trap at the edge of the forward trench
, farthest from death bunker Orks threw them selves at Sgt. Lance leaping into melee.  Huddled around the escape hatch his command squad leveled an Auto cannon into the forward trench where Orks poured in as the name sake of Green Tide, thrashing thier choppa's and basher's amonst dead body decoy's.  With a bow Sgt. blew the sections of the forward trench closest to death bunker as signal for the Secondary trench and all arms in support to open fire & a precaution to grotling snipers taking root in the elevation death bunker provided.  The clouds of dust, dirt and dibris screened the Cadian's perfectly to allow Deltrus and all the mortal snipers attached to the 83rd supremacy in accurate deadly fire. 
  With a different strut Sgt. Lance dropped from the tank trap cutting down Orks staggered by his sniper's but who refused to die.  Hacking and butchering his way back into the trench his command squad pulled the auto cannon underground firing all the way until the veteran Sgt. dove into the escape hatch with a comedic grace.  Not lacking a finale sword swipe that flowed seamlessly into his economy of motion.  The hatch snapped just neatly before the final sections of the forward trenches were demolished.

  Staggered but determined the Orks pressed another wave of Boys into the fog of war supported by Trucks with extra Dakka, luring forward units of both xeno's armies into the main access road only to cut them off with obliterating Mortar's, anticipating Auto Cannon's & a withering volley of good old reliable las rifles.  
  When a long line of Orks on bikes took over the main access road supplying forward operations racing with rattling, roaring engines that belched sooty black smoke.  The were met at the front of an Agis defence line freshly installed by a tech Priest with its power axe and Skittari who fought with an audacity that threw the Orks back over the wall into the dawn of war and by day break The Moridian Officer could be seen fighting with chainsword and pistol whip at the front barely salvaging the moral of his unit and recovering what the Cadian's estimated to be 48ish men, Fake Cadian's could be seen redigging fortification's for Laz cannon's and auto Cannon's aimed now down the north avenue of the supply road.  Heavy bolter's redirected 3 of their 6 teams to cover the rear now that they were cut off from the rest of fire base Brutus.

   The Cadian's in complete anticipation of the surge had all heavy weapon's redirected just out of range to offer any support to the trenches of yesterday. How ever they opened up with perfect timing immediately after all trenches of yesterday were detonated by wire just after the last few bikes fell into auto cannon range.  The Cadian ambush was able to exact a heavy toll upon the Ork war bikes, before they were even able to hit the Agies defense line built over night in anticipation for this feint. Sniper squads eradicated the Majority of the Nobz almost breaking the assault but the Orks came with such vast number's even through the withering vollies of las rifle fire many couldn't help but ride their bikes acrossed the flat protection of this hastily installed Defense line testing metal of Cadian Flame thrower's and withering las rifle assaults.
   Wyvern's started back up in exact syncronization with the armored counter attack at the far east access of the supply road. The two tanks left of the '83rd's old Glory Hunter's re-bolstered with a Punisher Variant Leman's russ leading vetran's on his flanks creeping in to a road block deflecting the Ork biker's who raced south east lost behind friendly lines. By Noon the Punisher took it's gattling cannon into the Defense line and seemed to relieve Sgt. Lance with a wink and a nod.
 Glory hunter's pounded a Gene stealer Labor truck into submission that also drove to circle around the Moridian force cut off from the supply route. Sgt. Lance met his command squad for break fast behind the Wyvern's and from there they watched the veteran's who escorted these Glory Hunter's into his custody block bullying traffic redirecting the chimera's sent to resupply segregated into Cadian's which rallied into the defense lines Sgt. Lance on the front cleaving Ork war bikes from the Perimeter with the Tech Priest Adept who installed it crackling power sword and power axe. When the ork where routed Glory Hunter's were still pounding away on an immobilized Labor truck stuck helpless between the Moridian force commanding the trenches of the '83rd.
"The blessing's of the Omnissiah favor us Adept Karol!" Sgt. Lance shouted to the Tech Preist Adept who fought along side him this morning.

"Indeed he has shown us much favor," growled the vox piece installed in her throat. The Ork sent a wave after wave of grot tanks into this new hemorage and though they reeled from the cost of this ambush the Ork were still able to claim victory by afternoon in the squar acreage that they had gained. Sgt. Lance and his Cadian's how ever could say they suffered the least casualties of this mornings engagement. Most Casualties were sent to a 2nd rogue medicea tent the Cadian's had set up not far from the wyvern mortar squad.

"And favor still!" interjected Cpl. Sneede escorting a squadron of Hydra's into the Defense line. By noon Sgt. Lance left the defense line with more Cadian soldier's in it than when he launched the ambush in it this morning and packed it full of 2 Chimera's & a hydra squad which managed to support the morridian's when they suffered a harrying attack by gargoyle swarms. Out of range to help Cadaian laz rifles repulsed the grotz crawling about the refuse of war.



the next wave crushed en mass with an Air strike from a low flying Maurader bomber guarded closely by Vultures. On the south side air support left the Moridian's un~supported to the Tyranid sank fang & claw into the Moridian lines though not with out an impressive fight from the Moridian's. The new commander held his Moridian's together by readjusting his heavy weapon's around the Command Bunker in support of the surviving squads repusling a consolidated mass of insectoid xenos.

"Private First Class Nemorus tell your sweet heart she does a fine straffing run and if she could bring that kind of heat back at high noon I know a lot of boys down here that will dance at her wedding!" Sgt. Lance growled from behind a smoking iho stick standing atop a chimera urinating upon the barrel of a hot Wyvern mortar. They were in danger of over heating after this morning's ambush.



"Sarge you build her a run way to land those motherlover's and my sweet heart will bring that kind of heat back quarterly!" PFC Nemorius also said standing atop a chimera and urinating upon a hot wyvern mortar barrel, although with a vox pack upon his back and the receiver wedged between his ear.



"That's fine soldier, that's fine, HEY! Get those men some carton's of iho stick's! Where's my recaff!?!" Sgt. Lance hollered to a few squads of Cadian's flanking the full wyvern squad resting after this mornings ambush.


From the top of the chimera Sgt. Lance watched the New Moridian officer readjust his defenses cut off from the trenches abandoned on the Northern face of death bunker.

After his command squad had requisitioned a laz cannon they rendevued back with the hard born Cadian Sgt. in his new Command Turox and drove north setting up his command bunker ontop of 3 other heavy weapon's bunker's each also fitted with Laz cannon's already engaging some sort of submersable transport chugging it's orky way out of the aquaductery abandoned in some massive with drawl oblivious to the '83rd. Sgt. Lance didn't worry about the xeno's getting behind the lines of fire base Brutus because they had long before he had been reassigned here. Into the water Sgt. Lance sent a convoy of 5 chimera's they were full of fake Cadian's Deff dreads mangling one into a fiery heap even in the face of accurate and punishing Laz Cannon Barrages.

Of those 4, 3 survived the attacking pass under the shadow of the Aquaductary Refinoritorum. Lucky Rockets defied heavy bolter & multi lazer supressive fire from the Refinoritorum, over looking balconies crippled APC in the water.
"Look at this, they'er trying to finish that chimera off by jumping a buggy off the rook and landing it on the poor saps!" Shouted back a Laz Cannon watching sure enough some ork Kamakazie jumped his buggy off of the roof of the Aquaductary Refinoritorum and launched his full pay load of rokkit's down in the general vecinity of the chimera convoy and smacked face first into the concrete enbankments too shy of the water.
"Well don't just sit there and watch stop them!" Sgt. Lance nudged the gunner who reached out at the max range of his laz Cannon and started shooting at the improvized missiles the Ork Launched off of the roof of this Refinory. "I know Major Brutus thinks his supply of promethium will scorche his way into infamy but this war isn't going to last two more days if we don't regain supply of the water," He confided to his veteran's. Watching one ork jump into the crippled chimera with a crate of dynamite strapped to his chest.