@Bright_Ops

"What's my greatest kill?" She cast her mind back to her various fights over the decades she had fought. "Ok, so, this one requires some backstory. Normally, I have a chainsword clipped to the other side of my heavy flamer tank, and it was this incident that convinced the techeads to not give me another one. At least not for a while. I'm gonna try to requisition a new one before we land. So, anyway, this group of fuckhuge orks attacked the Chimera we were in, and this one guy had what they call a 'power klaw.' Nasty fucking things. He tore straight through the armour and killed the crewman. Pulled the chainsaw out and stuck it straight through the fucker's head, causing the chain to snap off."

She paused for a moment, before Rena punched her arm. "That's bullshit. It was a bunch of regular Orks with grenades who blew it open, and we all killed them. She crisped a couple, It must be said. She lost chainsword privileges because she was dicking around with one of them." The two burst out into laughing, before Angel spoke again. "Ok, ok. Actual greatest kill was probably when I planted a satchel charge and rigged a remote detonator using a vox caster. Trukks ran over it, button pressed, three trukks become a crater. Good times."

@agentmanatee@Bright_Ops@Dannyrulx

"My greatest kill? Well, there was this one time - when I was fixing up one Guardsman, I am not sure where he was from, who had taken an ork round through his spleen. Nasty piece of work there, it was mostly us two. So then some ork kommando sneaks up behind me, sneaky-bastard there puts a shotgun against my back and tells me 'ands up'. So I took the scalpel I had been using and shoved it into his trigger finger. Then came the gloves off, and I ended up tearing off his face with my claws," she spoke, rubbing her fingers. "I broke one nail to that entire thing, while he ended up missing a face - I also used that idiot' skull as my ork football...before it got smashed."

She said that, speaking calmly yet that last piece of wording was said with some dislike - while Meris gave Ninke a look at that. First that woman smashed her play-ball and then she got her rank wrong. She smelled a Shrine-born Guardsman from that woman.

Time: 8:25 AM, Location: Deck-Barracks 792, aboard the Transport Frigate 'Castellan' - ETA til planatery embarkation procedure 5 minutes

As the days elongated into weeks, nothing of any particular note transpired; the 87th reformed into a more cohesive and organised version of itself, a distinct hierarchy being created and D-Company specifically - mostly due to the number of Abhumans to share between their squads - standing out from the rank and file of the rest of the regiment. Standard procedure continued to dominate lives, firing exercises, daily routines of cleaning and prayer, and even the odd long game of regicide or hangman's ace being played here and there by the more bored and more experienced gamblers among them.

One more thing did occur during the trip through the Warp, and that was the issuing to each and every soldier of the regiment their new Hija-pattern close-quarter weapons - although they were also permitted to keep their Cadian pattern mono-knife/bayonet if they so wished, the thinking being that two weapons were better than one! It was hoped by their Colonel that these weapons would help to unify the disparate fractures of now-dead regiments spread through his own...and only time would tell.

---

What seemed to be a journey of merely two weeks was in actuality one of near four months in real space, the small armada of Imperial Navy transports and escort vessels emerging back into 'true' space with a tearing of the fabric between the realms and a juddering shudder that could be felt even in the interior hangar bays where the Guard regiments were located. Anyone who knew anything about space travel would be able to feel it and know that they had emerged from the Immaterium, their ships triangular prows jutting forth and dragging the rest of the ship with it in a whip-crack of motion.

What they may not have been expecting was what happened next...

At first there was nothing, just the tail-end of the shuddering and then the common enough humming of the engines of the Castellan. Moments passed and still nothing, if anything the transport frigate was beginning to pick up speed, moving through the emptiness of space with practised ease and heading toward their required destination. It was only then that something went wrong, something that caused the ship to lurch and shake to its very core, repetitive strikes from without causing the vessel to groan and swerve - as well as one can in space - away from the suddenly present dangers.

There were almost as many of them as there were Imperial vessels, oddly shaped craft that had seemingly come out of nowhere, there beige colouring seemingly at odds with the darkness about them, and the charged beams of the ion cannons hammering into ship after ship; one transport, slower than the others and older too, yet filled with just as many alarmed Guardsmen, tore itself apart as a flurry of missiles blew the ships generators and destroyed the unfortunate vessel from the inside.

Inside his office Colonel Nizar was yelling into the mouthpiece of his personal vox, determined to ascertain what was happening outside the thick metal walls of what could end up being his very own space coffin, but all he could seem to find out for sure was that they were under attack by an enemy that had apparently been waiting for them. How they had known where they would emerge, or there own strength, was quite a mystery and one which would cost the fleet at least a quarter of its ships by the time they made it to the rendezvous point. They were harried all the way.

---

A hush ran through the 87th Composite as their Commanding Officer exited his office and stood on the gantry overlooking the deck below, a megavox held in one hand and a blinking dataslate in the other, the instrument raised casually to his lips and those below looking back at him. They had been formed up into companies and squads not fifteen minutes ago, each standing next to their assigned or chosen Chimera APC and each kitted out in their full uniform and arsenal.

"Men and women of the 87th, your time is nearly upon you," he began in a stoic but firm tone of voice, "we are barely ten minutes away from our target location, our fleet joining with two others already out here on the Eastern Fringe, and soon we shall be embarking to the world below. Once there you shall report to your company commanders for further instruction..." it seemed as if he may say something else, but instead he made the sign of the Aquila and gave a small nod, "may you come back alive, the Emperor protects."

With that the hush was broken, NCOs and company-rank commanders yelling at their subordinates to mount up into their Chimera and wait; the next phase of the landing process was nearly upon them, any moment now they would be driven into the wide mouth of a landing craft that would connect with the Castellan, just one of many, the vast black ships able to contain a regiment and their vehicles each. They were slow and cumbersome however, and this operation needed to being swiftly if it was to have a chance of success.

Some of the soldiers took a glance back at their temporary home, before ducking into the red-lit interior of their vehicle, while most simply shouldered their weapons, gave a prayer to Him on Terra, and listened to the vibration of their vehicles engine.

Any moment now and all would begin - they had deliberately been given no information about their enemy, or their enemy's strength on the planet, or generally about anything. It would not do to scare the men before they even hit the surface, and they would know exactly where they were and who they were fighting soon enough! First they had to get down there, and that was going to be an ordeal in itself.

@Bright_Ops@Hank@mackielars@Rultaos@Andreyich@NecroKnight@Dannyrulx@agentmanatee

Marcus listened to the stories of his other two new squadmates. He had to say, he was impressed with both of them; Angelika's ingenuity and Meris' raw lethality because of her abhuman nature. He figured that if they came to trust each other more, they would be a very efficient unit. But only time would tell whether that would come to pass. In the meantime, he had to talk about his own experiences so that he wouldn't look bad in front of his new squad.

"My greatest kill... Hmm... Well I'd have to say it was the time my boys and I ended up facing off against one of the Ork leaders. Called a 'Nob' I think. We were lucky, in that we caught the bugger isolated from the rest of the greenskins, and the ones who were with him were easily dispatched with our numbers. But this big nasty Nob just wouldn't back down. He came charging into the Flamer team swinging his weapon around and killed a few men. He turned his sights on us troops in the back, when Hardin told us to scatter so that we wouldn't get slaughtered all at once like the Flamers did. So we split off into 2-man units in different directions while peppering him with lasgun fire. Just as the Nob went to run after McCollins and Troike, I pulled out my Melta Bomb, ran closer to the Ork and screamed 'CATCH THIS!' and tossed it as hard as I could. The stupid bugger fell for it and actually turned towards me just as I was running back while firing my Lasgun. The bomb blew up right on his chestpiece and tore it apart along with his helmet while scorching his skin. Hardin then gave the order for us to focus our lasers on the exposed parts until we cooked him alive. That was probably the riskiest and most glorious kill I had the pleasure of participating in." Marcus narrated.

It technically wasn't his "kill", but Marcus never had a situation where he faced an enemy on his own before. Though he did think that a lot more men would have died during that encounter had he not used his Melta bomb, and figured he could at least take credit for that.

@Dannyrulx @NecroKnight @agentmanatee

Angelika had gone through numerous drops over her lifetime. Because of this, she had a specific ritual that she went through before contact for the first time. Slowly, she ran a cloth over her flamer, before screwing in the fuel connector. Then, she ran the wiring from her eye down to the specialist port just below the handle of the flamer. She sighed as it went in, her vision temporarily obscured by lines of coding, before she felt the strange sensation of her body connecting with the machine, making it feel weightless and as easy to manoeuvre as her arm or leg.

Then, she drew her laspistol and clipped in the power bank for it, checking as the power level ticked up. She set the damage output to it's maximum, knowing that if she had to resort to the gun, she would need the extra 'umph.' She clipped her lasgun to her side, then reaching behind her to unclip her new chainsword, revving it a few times to make sure it would work.

Lastly, she pulled out her autoinjector and removed the morphine vial, replacing it with a white liquid, Stimm. Made you better, faster, stronger, although you could OD very easily. She clipped the new vial in, listening to the pneumatic hiss as the injector accepted it, before rolling up her sleeve and punching three holes in her arm with the syringe.

"Alright boys and girls. Time to do what we get paid for."

@agentmanatee@Dannyrulx@Bright_Ops@Rultaos@Andreyich@NecroKnight

---

The Wisps, after finally reuniting with their other halves, were all smiles as they left their CO’s office. This time it felt genuine, unlike the smoke filled high that pulled at their lips on the past days. For them, reuniting with their Hijas was like ending the war and coming home to their loved ones. After all, it was their home away from home. Their heart. Their soul. As such, one could see the differences between each man’s Hija.

Persephone had the most basic Hija among the three. But the curve is a little longer, thinner, and a little more pronounced unlike the rest. It was as if she was holding on to a small scythe which would reflect how she usually used it. Marco’s own would have a smaller curve, but with a thicker body that made it look like a large cleaver. Lastly, Taiel’s Hija had small grooves near the bottom of the blade, near the hilt. He usually used his like a saw, which was useful especially when he had to scout somewhere where he would need to make makeshift bedrolls for himself.

While the three of them walked back towards their living space wondering who their new Sergeant would be, a familiar voice rung out from outside.

"Attention! Ze following Guardsmen are to report to me immediately as thair new NCO! Private Meris Fixun! Abhuman Khaz! Private Persephone Ignatz and all other former members of the 3rd Wisps light infantry! Private John Cecil Feeney! Private Marcus Gruber! Und private Ericsson Marshal!"

Persephone looked at Marco, wondering if she just heard who she thought she did. Marco looked back at her with a look of equal wonder laced with confusion.

The three enter the living space and they see their new petite sergeant slowly being crowded around by guardsmen. As such, they also followed suit and soon they were facing their new NCO, the very person whom they just shared a drugged up lho stick with just a day ago.

“Private Persephone Ignatz, reporting, ma’am!”

“Private Marco Boucher, reporting, ma’am!”

“Private Taiel Yuu, reporting, ma’am!”

They all showed their respect for her by saluting her with an Aquila until they were told to stop.

The silence took effect immediately after, until the large Abhuman asked a question. The three had to take a look at him for that. The question that he asked demanded the attention anyway. The others answered truthfully and with a lot pride. But Persephone felt like she didn’t have something to answer to the question. So she waited until she would get drowned by some other voice before speaking.

”When I landed the killing shot on one of those big things called… Nobz, I think.” Persephone said, almost quietly. She was ashamed that she didn’t have a kill as grand as the others.

John hummed to himself, having not much to say to the others. He did not know what his greatest kill was, it was so hard to tell if his rain of plasteel or one of his comrades killed the enemies that were approaching them. Besides, over the great time fighting he did not remember all the various greenskins turned into a thin red mist thanks to him. Besides, he was busy praying and repeating his thoughts of the day. He had only forgotten one of the many thousands of them this time, and made a careful mark with his Cadian patter mono-knife (keeping the funny thing they were issued among his other gear) upon his arm, the blood drying quickly. He rolled up his sleeves, and put on his gas-mask, tightening it and taking a few experimental breaths. Satisfied, he let the barrels of his heavy-weapon spin quietly. They would deploy soon and John would return to his usual cycle: blasting a his enemies, running out of ammunition, and then charging forth to disembowel them hoping none of them were quick or strong enough to end him in the process.

It was at this point he noticed his hands shaking once more. With a groan he reached in his pocket for some of the combat drugs he managed to procure. There were many, but he grinned at the sight of his favourite; frenzon. He let the stuff go into his vains, and then stared at his arms which were finally still. Then he slowly started to breath, giggling a little madly. The enemies of man would not see the face of who ripped out their spine and head to use as a morning star to hit their friends with. It was going to be a delight, serving the Emperor in the best way imaginable. Feeney just hoped that they would get into the fight soon, his knuckles were itching, not to speak of his trigger finger.

His grunts began to get more frequent, his scarred arms while not shaking would rise up and down with the heavy breathing getting faster and faster. He was looking forward to it so much. Perhaps even, he could end up getting the Emperor's peace today. He now let the barrels of his weapon spin freely at full-speed. He did not know of the enemies he would have to face, and the great restraint from charging he would have to find within himself.

Ninke watched as her new squad slowly assembled before her, some relaxed and others standing at bolt right attention. A couple faces she knew, and less that she knew well, but all the same this was her squad. She was certainly happy the Cadian officer was apart of her platoon. She looked at her with a nod and a smile at her comment.

"No, I hauve not been given a banner yet... but, I'm sure D company vill get one soon enogh!", she replied enthusiastically.

She turned back to the squad standong before her, and cleared her throat. "I am your new sergeant, Ninke Ingran. You will address me as Sir., Sergeant or Sergeant Ingran, anything else is a sign of insubordination that will not be taken lightly. In a mere few eeks time, for us at least, we will arrive at our new combat zone. Once there, we will be relying on each-other to survive. Meaning all of us are going to be relying on one another. Friendly fire or any other lesser sort of discord amongst the squad vill not be tolerated do I make myself clear?"", she stared at no one in particular, looking across the whole group. Friendly fire in general was a problem with abhumans and she had two in her squad now.

"Now, get to know everyone. We will be going into hell once again very soon.", luckily it seemed the... beastman had already begun the bonding process with his question on kills... Ninke decided to answer as well.

"Vell, my greatest kill came with the final line at the Cathedral on Vernum. I was in the Medical area. as I had already lost my left arm by thees point, so I vas there... but I couldn't stand to wait in there while everyone elze fought... I could still hold a laspistol at least. I made my way out of the area, and towards the line. I ran into Commissar Jarack, possibly thee last officer of the Hirisit. W were about to make our way out together when... a shell expolded the wall knocking me to the ground. When I got up, Jarrack had a massive spike ouf shrapnel in his chest. As his last act he handed me his plasma pistol, before expireing.", Ninke paused, her eyes taking on a long look as she remembered the day once more before continuing.

"But... I had only one arm, I would run out of ammo almost immediately! I couldn't load the cartridges oonder fire... at least not normally. So, I came up vith a way I could", she gestured to the webbing of burn scars all across her lower face, thickest just around her lips and spreading outwardsm some reaching her neck at the lowest and the top of her nose at the highest.

"I placed the three or so extra cartridges in my mouth, I would load them when the previous one ran out vith my mouth. That handled I made my way to the line. The part I vas at had taken an artillery shell to its barricade, a massive hole in it. I, and several other Guard who had followed me to the line sidled up vith the units already their and got to verk. It was desperate, at first I used cover and such but it vas clear zee orks ver going to break through... von man ran, a Tusheina lizard... if he vas seen... I stood an put a round in his back before stepping into zee breach. I fired as quickly as I could, kept alive by mine and the other guardsemens actions. Ve did not break. Then there vas... a massive ork, as tall as nearly three men! He cut his vay through, and charged me. I unloaded my entire plasma cartridge into his head. Even still, he nearly killed me, taking ouf most ouf my lower leg and my foot vith his chainaxe. But, his brains were sludge, and afterwards ve held zat line...", she sighed and her thoughts drifted to Belgond for a few moments... before she shook that free and looked back to her squad.

"Zat vas my greatest Ork kill"

---

In the weeks leading up to the next combat actions Ninke trained hard to be ready to lead her squad into battle, tripling her normal regimen. Now, as the men loaded into the Chimera, she felt ready. But, she was unsettled that they knew nothing of what they were about to face...

She made her way to the front as the boarding ramp closed and stuck her head into the drivers room, "Ve are yours now Bertold, get us there in one piece yes?", she took her seat next to the Angelika... and prayed quietly.

The next three weeks were filled with grueling training and drills, courtesy of their new squad leader, Sergeant Ninke Ingran. She wasn't a bad leader, but she seemed rather strict and rigid, and was visibly uncomfortable around the abhumans of their unit, most especially Khaz. She was also a religious individual who never wasted an opportunity to speak to them about the glory of the God-Emperor. Through all this however, she showed herself a capable commander, but Marcus was worried about how she would react to the stress of leadership in their next combat zone.

Khaz, was a straightforward and single-minded individual. He made his purpose clear to everyone around him, even if he did not explicitly say it: He wanted to bring as much glory to the God-Emperor as he could through battle before dying, and he was not afraid to die at any moment. He was also lethal at close combat and Marcus felt sorry for anyone unfortunate enough to be within range of the abhuman's limbs, and thankful that the squad had someone like Khaz to watch their backs should enemies like Orks try to engage them in close combat. Of course, his nature as an abhuman would certainly cause friction within the group.

Same goes with Meris Fixun. She seemed like a reasonable individual. Unlike some of the troopers and commanders that Marcus knew, she did not have that much in terms of ambitions or dreams of glory and grandeur. She did her job, with no need for any fanfare or recognition, yet she did her job well. Her behavior in their drills showed that she knew what she was doing both as a Guardsman and as a medic, and every now and then she showed that she was capable of using improvised healing methods through the occasional anecdotes she shared with the rest of the team. Though Marcus knew she would not save them from artillery barrages or getting gunned down by extreme amounts of gunfire, it was somewhat comforting to know that their minor injuries would not grow worse with her around.

Meanwhile, one of the people he was worried about was John Fenley, the Frateris Militiaman with a dangerous tendency to lash out. His temper and mild disregard for Imperial hierarchy was worrying, but it did not seem like it would be detrimental, at least not yet. On the other hand, his zeal and courage were unquestionable. His devotion to his cause and his willingness to die for it was clear, but whether this would outweigh his negative points in a prolonged campaign, they would have yet to see. Marcus only hoped that his heavy stubber would be pointed in the right direction when the time came for it.

A somewhat familiar face among the squad was Angelika Carscallen, the Cadian woman who shared the Squig bits with them. She was a cybernetically enhanced Flamer trooper with the discipline of a seasoned veteran, and if her war stories were anything to go by she was probably one of the oldest veterans in their unit. She seemed like a capable leader herself and would no doubt be the first one to take charge should Ninke die or crack under the pressure. She was also quick on the draw and could react rapidly to a changing situation, moving faster than Marcus himself ever could throughout his own experiences in chaotic battlefields. She and the rest of her Cadian allies would make a strong backbone for their unit.

An interesting addition to their squad were the 3rd Wisps of Settler's Bane, coincidentally only three of them remained alive after the carnage on Vernum Primas. They were an odd sort who mainly kept to themselves and preferred each other's company rather than mingling with the rest of the unit, but they were accommodating enough when approached. It seemed that the regiment had them to thank for being issued their new close-combat curved blades as they spoke fondly of their own weapons and did not seem very enthusiastic on the idea of giving it out to the regiment. Though Marcus was just pleased over having a weapon slightly more reliable than his bayonet or entrenching tool (as he had seen how inefficient those weapons were against beasts like the Orks). In terms of combat ability, the Wisps were excellent sharpshooters who everyone else in the unit could barely get on par with, with the exception of the biggest of the three, named Marco Boucher, who seemed to be more effective at close-combat than sniping. Despite their aloofness, Marcus thought that they would be an advantage to have when facing the enemy at a distance.

After the weeks had passed and he felt he got to know his team better (and he himself became more used to his Lasgun and the placement of equipment on his new uniform) their mettle would be tested by their first new opponent.

---

The speech given by Colonel Nizar wasn't as inspiring as Marcus thought it would be. "If anything, that probably just made the men more anxious especially with the rocky beginning that this deployment is having. Marcus thought as he began heading towards the Chimeras. He passed by Hardin and Dace along the way, gave them a brief salute (which they returned) before they split off into their different assigned squads.

Once he had stepped inside the squad's Chimera, he immediately began one last check on his weapons. He made sure all of his explosives were in place (2 Frags on the top of the bandolier, 4 Kraks lining all the way to the bottom, and a Melta Bomb strapped securely in his pack along with his ammunition), his bayonet and Hija in easily reachable locations on the left side of his uniform, and some spare magazines for his Lasgun on his right side.

Before each deployment, he would always rapidly unload and reload his weapon in order to make sure that he would be able to keep a constant stream of fire on the enemy, so he quickly swiped his left hand around in an attempt to make himself used to the reloading motion of his Kantrael-pattern Lasgun. "Unload. Holster left. Grab right. Load. Lock. Aim. Unload. Holster left. Grab right... He repeated in his head like a mantra as he performed the motions.

Eventually, the entire team was loaded on board. Ninke went to the front of the vehicle and addressed Bertolt in the driver's seat. "Ve are yours now Bertold, get us there in one piece yes?" She said.

"Yes, sir! As soon as the birds get us on the ground, Lucky Lucy's delivery service will be sending a deluxe package of the Emperor's fury, courtesy of the 87th Combined!" Bertolt replied. "Leo, keep an eye on those gauges. Valerie, do one more check on our brake wires..." Bertolt said to the Chimera crew as Ninke returned to her seat.

Marcus had become satisfied with his reloading routine and finally holstered his Lasgun as he adjusted himself in his seat. He sent a prayer to the God-Emperor, before turning back to his squadmates. "The Emperor never runs out of work for us, so let's get down there and fill our kill quotas for the week, lads!" He said out loud in an attempt to raise their spirits.

As Khaz lent back in his seat in the...strange metal box, he seemed to be rather relaxed compared to everyone else around him. While the chance to further the cause of the Emperor and earn his praise was so close he could taste it, he reigned in his desire to spill the blood of the Emperor's enemies; They would be dealt with in time after all. Still, his hand seemed to softly glide along the flat of the sword across his lap, stroking it like it was a small and dangerous child.

Between the drills and the exercises that seemed to have been designed to ensure that all those present were in an acceptable condition of health, Khaz had gone off on his own and gotten some of his fur dyed; There was now a large Aquila on both his back and chest, easy to see and recognize. Of course, he had also had the same symbols painted on his armor because it would be going over the top of his chest and back, but he hadn't had much to do with the time when he wasn't working with the rest of his herd anyway so it worked out nicely.

Glancing to look at Marcus for a moment, Khaz snorted through his nose before chuckling with a surprising good humor. "The Emperor fights against dark and xeno gods so that we may earn glory and valor by fighting and slaying their champions." Taking a moment to look at each of his squad mates (and making a show of doing so, ensuring that they knew he was doing it), he smiled a little to himself as he finished "In victory and death, we will not disappoint him."

@agentmanatee

Meris for the most part was mostly playing with her new knife at that, sharpening it against her claws and getting a grip and handle of it. She kinda like new toys in general, ones that were special and hard to come by. Since her previous source of entertainment had been destroyed - it was then upto this, to make it better.

She smiled at that, as she sat with her other new brothers and sisters in arms, in the Chimera. Here was to hoping that they would not be dumped into the middle of an ork horde, like last time at that.

(Sorry its short, writer block)

The actual drop to the planet below was a pretty standard affair; the Chimera personnel carriers were driven into the whale-like mouths of the drop-ships, the monumental black constructs descending through the atmosphere at speed before engaging thrust and landing with somewhat of a thud, before the huge ramps dropped once more to the earth to reveal the outside world.

What was the outside world?

Sheol Arcadius was a Frontier World only 'recently' colonised by the Imperium after the last ripples of the Second Tyrannic War had subsided from nearby Ultramar, a world formerly occupied by the Tau Empire and taken only after the repeated sacrifices of many Penal Legions down to the last man, it was a rugged world of sparse vegetation and ruins that had once been sleek Tau architecture - now little more than blackened wreckage - the population made up of the disenfranchised, the lawless and nearly the entire populations of multiple Hive cities from further inside the Imperium. All-in-all it was quite the disappointment, little vegetation and only a couple of forests, the level of technology no higher than that of a Civilised plant and where there was not seas of water there were seas of grass.

Landing Area Echo/150 was a patch of ground some miles away from the nearest settlement, surrounded on all sides by mountains that had been flattened by the Mechanicus for this very arrival of Imperial forces. All around the landing site were prefab buildings of every description, from barrack houses to wash houses and latrines, officers quarters, Command Headquarters and rec-buildings all - they were in a dull grey colour, of course, for nothing more could be expected from pre-built structures.

One-by-one the various regiments embarked, the Chimera under Sergeant Ninke rolling out with the rest, pausing briefly to allow the squad within to exit the vehicle before it was taken to the nearby motor pool. Once each soldier had stepped once more into the light, possibly shaken but possibly not, they were ushered by a Ministorum clerk over to the left-hand side of the landing ground (a huge square of flattened and packed earth); it was here that the foot sections of each regiment now lounged about, waiting to be called up for a briefing or assigned to their barracks, the mixed personnel of formations ranging from the Mordian 11th in their pristine blue uniforms, to the 18th Savlar Chem-Dogs looking for all intents and purposes like a Penal Legion with better equipment.

The 87th Combined was bunched together bit-by-bit, three-thousand soldiers and their equipment, each section being briefed by their commanding officers. As such, it was only a matter of half-an-hour before Junior-Commissar Sigrun came to find Ninke and her fellows, ordering them to follow her to an isolated part of the LZ where Captain Rochus waited for them in his Steel Legion garments.

The last squad had just disappeared around the corner of a barrack-block when they were placed before the Captain.

"Welcome to Sheol Arcadius," he began with a sweeping hand, "you may not realise it from where we are, but there is a vast and rugged planet out there. It seems that, not intent on losing it to our forces decades ago, the fish-heads have decided to come back and 'reclaim' it for their 'Greater Good' and such. We are here to stop them, of course." One hand rubbed itself over his square jawline and the legionnaire pointed to a number of chairs placed on the open ground before where he stood and paced, "please...take a seat."

Pressing a button concealed in his palm, a sickly green image rose from the holo-emitter between he and the squad, blank for the moment but then filled with a layout of the local vicinity.

"Firstly I will need a call-sign for your rabble, Sergeant," he directed at Ninke, "now listen up."

"To the north-east of here is a settlement that needs to be held, to the north-west is open land that needs to be re-conned, to the immediate east is a wide expanse that leads to another settlement of unknown strength or loyalties, and to the west a port-town that is of strategic importance." Something like a laugh came from between his teeth, "we of the 87th have been given a rare opportunity...to be allowed to choose our own way of doing things. I am giving you the opportunity to choose now, from these vague opportunities, before telling you more."

Everything was vague, made deliberately so by order of the higher-ups, but whatever they chose would have intelligence attached to it that might possibly shed some light on things. Arcadius was a frontier world after all, technologically low and populated by inhabitants who had no love for the Imperium or their God-Emperor really, information was scarce at best and survey teams had been absent from the planet for quite some time. Giving each squad a sudden, sharp and imprecise choice was at least getting things moving without slowing things down even further.

@Bright_Ops@Hank@mackielars@Rultaos@Andreyich@NecroKnight@Dannyrulx@agentmanatee

When the Chimera shuddered to life, Marcus was just finished fixing his helmet onto his head. He braced himself to his seat as their vehicle moved forward into the waiting ramp of the transport ships.

"Hold on tight, boys and girls! We're about to head off!" Bertolt announced from the driver's seat of the Chimera. He felt the Chimera tip upwards slightly as they climbed onto the ramp, and then shudder back down as the Chimera flattened itself on the floor of the transport ship. Soon after that, there was another loud rumble, but this time from the outside as the ship whirred to life and began lifting off from the Castellan. "The Emperor protects! Let's hope we get down there in one piece!" Marcus said to no one in particular as their vehicle departed for the planet below.

---

When they made landfall, Marcus was ready to come out guns blazing, mainly because of the hostile reception that they had when they exited warp. He was half-expecting the planet to be occupied by the enemy and that they would be expected to make a hot landing. So he was surprised to see a base being set up as the Chimera exited onto their landing zone. The vehicle halted causing Marcus to jerk a bit and wonder what happened. "Alright lads, the brass says this is where you step off. Guess we'll be killing the Emperor's enemies together some other time." Bertolt said as he opened the rear doors of the Chimera.

"No problem, Bertie. You'll get your chance as long as you don't get blown up before our next assignment. Marcus replied jokingly to him. "Very funny, Mudfish. Your complete distrust of my competence is duly noted." Bertolt replied sarcastically. With that, Marcus dismounted the Chimera with the rest of the squad as the vehicle rolled off towards the motor pool.

A Ministorum clerk then directed their unit, along with the rest of the 87th Combined's forces, into a large flat area where the infantry was gathered. After their squad had gotten an area assigned to them, Marcus took off his bag to do another check on his gear, and also took his helmet off for now. At the moment, they had little to do other than wait for further orders.

Though, it wasn't long until their squad was summoned by Junior-Commisar Sigrun herself. The blonde officer led the unit to a secluded part of the landing zone where Captain Rochus was waiting for them. "The Captain is calling us personally? Mighty high honor for a newly-made squad like ours. What's he got in store for us, I wonder...?" Marcus thought to himself a he lined up at attention before their CO.

"Welcome to Sheol Arcadius... You may not realise it from where we are, but there is a vast and rugged planet out there. It seems that, not intent on losing it to our forces decades ago, the fish-heads have decided to come back and 'reclaim' it for their 'Greater Good' and such. We are here to stop them, of course." Rochus briefed them before gesturing at the nearby chairs and inviting them to sit. Marcus wasn't sure what enemy they were facing, but he had heard some Guardsmen from other regiments refer to a faction known simply as the "Tau" as Fish-heads in passing, but he knew little of them, much less this "Greater Good" The captain referred to. The best that he heard were vague tales of veterans about "deadly lights". Pushing the thoughts aside for now, he took a seat next to Meris and Khaz (because everyone else had already taken a seat elsewhere and it was the only ones left open). As soon as everyone had sat down, the Captain outlined his plans to them.

Apparently, their squad was being given the honor of selecting their assignment, and also deciding on the callsign that would be assigned to their unit. Rochus told them of the different assignments they could undertake and to choose between them. Marcus thought hard about the tasks they were given before turning towards Ninke.

"Sir, if I'm not speaking out of line, I suggest we take up either the northeast settlement that must be held, or the assignment in the port town. Personally speaking, a majority of us are more suited to close-combat roles and urban fighting, with a few exceptions. So I don't fancy the idea of taking our chances out in the open wilds or in unknown territory where the locals might as well be hostiles. But the decision is still yours, sir." Marcus said to their squad leader, before turning around to see if his other squadmates had anything to say on the matter.

@agentmanatee @NecroKnight @Bright_Ops @Dannyrulx @Andreyich @Jbcool

John followed the rest of the squad, confused as to where all the bloodshed was. The frenzon was now within his whole body, every muscle, nerve and neuron was dead set on well... making the enemy dead. He was ready to use his bare hands to leave the enemies as a red puddle, although if not given the chance his heavy stubber would do.

The realization that they were not being immediately deployed to the warzone was not welcome at all to the ex-Frateris. First off, it meant he had less of the war-juice he injected in himself for later, and secondly it meant that he had a great desire for violence of which there was not a great many choices to sate at the moment. All the words said echoed, the man unable to comprehend what was said beyond them being given a few vague choices. He stared down at his hands, shaking once again. This time it wasn't because of all the recoil compensation he was used to, now it was because they wanted a throat to lunge for. He stuck one in his pocket and zipped it up tightly drawing a little blood; he did not mind, so long as he did not end up breaking some officer's neck. His other hand was busy holding his heavy stubber which he did not have to worry about due to his reverence for the weapon. He did not know it, but all of his skin was crimson.The fury was rising, the need to kill, to end inferior lives for his glory. The restraint was too much to bear, it was like being unable to pull out a grand spike through the heart. John began to mutter to himself, then he let out a little insane bloodthirsty giggle. "They're all going to die. All the blood and carnage of the enemies of man, oh it's going to be grand. I'm so excited." he said to himself, albeit very loudly. He slowly transitioned the giggles into a low growl, biting at the air within his mask. Later, he would be glad he had it on and did not go to for someone's throat.

There was a short reprieve from the effects of the drug, a feeling like instantly coming out from the bottom of a body of water. There was a short pain in his head and just a few moments of clarity, yet still tinged by the insatiable blood-lust. "Let's just go and fight, right to the task. Nearest warzone, that way we can exterminate the enemy faster." he said, half oblivious to all that was being said. He rolled down his sleeves and pulled up his collar to hide the red skin, feeling that the effect was about to come back. Yes, there it was, like a million hooks pulling at every bit of the body but... in a good way, however that can be. He let out a short yelp of both pain and delight, and then grunted, followed by a request. The presence of all these potential victims was too much. Can I be excused for a moment, Sir."

@agentmanatee@NecroKnight@Bright_Ops@Dannyrulx@Jbcool@Rultaos@mackielars

Ninke had expected a hot LZ and had been ready to rush out, chain-sword raised and pistol blazing. She was surprised then to find that the LZ was already set up as a base. She ordered everyone off the Chimera and gave a salute to Bertolt as they departed to where the Administratum clerk led them. Ninke had an awful feeling about this deployment. Everything was in the dark, she knew she was just a sergeant but she expected to at least be told something about their enemies. She couldn't stop glancing around, trying to get clues from the base camp as to what they were up against. There was not much and eventually she gave up, returning to her prayers.

She was extraordinarily surprised when the companies new CO was calling for her squad specifically, but regardless she gave the order to form up and follow the Commissar. Ninke seemed to straighten up more as she followed the woman, approaching the captains tent she was prepared for anything. Perhaps the captain would reveal what the hell they were going to be fighting. Luckily, he did exactly that. She checked the Primer and found the Tau or 'fish-heads' and they made her skin crawl. Without noticing her mouth turned into a thin scowl as she briefly read about them and their heretical ways. She quickly closed it and listened up too the Captain as he asked for a call sign...

A call sign... she looked up confidently, "I would like our Call sign to be Faith Captain.", she smiled, hopefully the squad didn't hate it.

She listened to the options given and began to weigh her options... luckily for her Marcus seemed to have a good idea. It was true they all had more experience in urban environments and on the defensive. Before she could respond in such however trooper John spoke up... rather oddly. He seemed extremely distressed and... oddly angry. Unfortunately she couldn't grant his request. "Trooper you may be excused in joost a moment. Captain, I believe Trooper Marcus is correct. But, I would rather be active. Ve vill make our vay to ze unknown settlement in the east and hold it.", she said confidently.

Much like the others, Khaz had been expecting the opportunity to charge out of the metal box he was in to lay into the enemies of the Emperor and start raking up some kills. While somewhat disappointed about the fact that they didn't have things to kill right away, Khaz didn't complain beyond a few grunts.

Following the rest of the squad around with a slight amount of youthful impatience to enter combat (Mostly just fidgeting on his part), Khaz didn't say anything as they ended up in front of the more veteran fighters in order to decide where they would be fighting and what they would be trying to do in general. Listening to his new pack leader, he nodded his head slightly in private agreement. "If they have committed the crime of abandoning the Emperor for the promises of dark and alien gods, they will die quickly and painfully. " Was the only statement that he felt the need to make.

@Jbcool@agentmanatee

Meris Fixun, being the Corporal at that - and with some understanding of some terrain and fighting in such a situation. And being the more practical minded of the group - also gave her piece of advice to Ninke.

"Sergeant Ninke, Ma'am. With all due respect, maybe we should think about this smartly," she spoke, being calm about it with some memories of their previous engagement in mind. "Both the settlement and lands are unknown factors. We aren't sure, what we might come across - and what we might need to defend. For all we know, we might be trecking through a sandstorm in an attempt to recon an area. As for the settlements - we got no clue about them. Numbers or layout."

"The western approach seems the most logical choice. We know what we have to do at that. Defend a strategic location. We know it's important and all. And some of the Guardsmen might feel useful at that. People have a dendency to fight harder, when there is more at stake," she spoke. "We have heavy forces at that. And sending us to likely kill traitor humans seems...well waste of talent, to be honest. Ma'am."