This story is an unofficial story based, without permission, on the Warhammer/Warhammer 40,000 intellectual property owned by Games Workshop Ltd.
"Well I just got back from a break in the fight,
I was weighing in heavy but feeling alright
All I hear in the distance is mines and shells
Here come the sirens wailing another attack to be repelled
Do you think we're gonna make it?
I don't know unless we try
You could sit here scared to move or we could take them by surprise
It's submission that they want
It's surrender that they need
When we're doing it their way their aims will be achieved."
Captain Lucien Gaudin, ranking officer aboard His Most Holy Divine-Emperor's cruiser 'Defender', patrolled his bridge silently. Along with the sister cruiser, Patriot, Gaudin was patrolling the system. The Admiral's Grand Cruiser, The Crusader, remained in orbit around Hargon.
The Defender circled the system silently, fighters swarming around it like piranhas around a whale. The gigantic cathedral-ship was as powerful and deadly as it was ancient, a prideful craft in the service of the Imperial Navy, the galaxy's pre-eminent fleet.
The bridge was silent, servitors and young commissioned officers going about their work as quietly as possible. Under no circumstances did Gaudin tolerate excessive noise aboard his ship. His deep blue captain's uniform was pressed and starched impeccably, his thinning gray hair combed into a flawless part and covered by his peaked officer's hat. His navy issue auto-pistol rested on his right hip, perfectly cleaned and up-kept, and his glove-clad hands were clasped elegantly at the small of his back. He was, in every way, the poster child of a naval commander.
"Captain." A deck officer spoke, looking up from his monitor and breaking the silence. "We have some kind of contact. It appears to be a warp disturbance."
"I see. Coordinates?"
"425.376.298."
"Hmm. Bring weapons online to full power, put the fighters on full alert, inform security headquarters to prepare to repel boards if necessary. Continue patrol as before."
"Yes, sir."
A few moments later the door to bridge slid open and a full combat team of naval storm troopers entered, clad in carapace armor and holding hell guns.
"Greetings, Lieutenant," Gaudin said, turning.
"Greetings Captain. If the enemy boards I am going to request that you leave the command deck until such a time as they are repelled."
Gaudin grunted, not liking the idea but acquiescing.
"Sir, warp signatures getting stronger. We believe a naval force will be entering the system momentarily."
"Noted, adjutant. Transmit the information to the Crusader and Patriot immediately."
"Yes, sir."
"And bring the shields online as well."
"Yes, sir."
Gaudin moved from where he had been standing, immediately in front of his command pulpit across the bridge, to find himself standing directly in front of the viewing glass. Suddenly, a ripple caught his eye.
"There. Space is tearing. The warp is about to open. Face prow two degrees southwest."
The ship began to move nearly immediately. It was just reaching it's position when the warp opened a gigantic wound in space, gouging out a massive fleet of Ork ships. The Captain never lost his cool, immediately turning to walk, quickly, back towards his command pulpit. He remained, even under the enormous stress of an imminent attack, an ideal naval officer in every way. The calmness he gave off nearly as an aura extended to his crew, keeping all those aboard the Defender cool-headed and professional.
It did not do much good. The Captain never reached his pulpit. The Defender was vaporized in mere moments under the blast of a massive Ork flotilla. Captain Lucien Gaudin, perfect officer of the Imperial Navy was, within seconds, perfectly dead.
Upon realizing what had happened, the Patriot and the Crusader rallied admirably, drawing up in perfect defensive lines and playing everything by the book. They died just the same, and within five hours the Ork fleet had achieved total supremacy in the skies over Hargon.
***
Callus sat in his cell and stared morosely out of the iron bars. Somewhere, he could hear a man screaming under the torture devices of the local Commissariat. Ox and Jackson sat in another corner, and Brenner was crouched on the floor, looking as tired and morose as ever. Daniella was hugging her legs against her chest, sitting in a bench in the middle of the cell.
Callus sighed to himself, allowing his head to rest against the cold, steel wall. Two of the blue-clad storm troopers walked by on their patrol.
He looked over to Daniella, biting her lower lip and staring into space. She was stunningly beautiful for such a young girl. She looked up and caught his eye, smiling at him warmly. He smiled back. For a moment, Callus was satisfied to just sit, regardless of his situation. It had been explained to him that he was under arrest for being in a quarantined zone, though that was obviously not the reason, as he had no actual control over it. He imagined that the Governor was probably not to keen on it getting out that the under hive of his city was crawling with plague zombies.
Daniella got up and walked over to him, sitting down next to him.
"You saved my life, I didn't thank you then, so I'm doing it now."
Callus gave his trademark smirk.
"Just another day in the life."
She chuckled.
"Do you have any family, Daniella?"
"No...no. I never knew my parents, and my older brother was a hive ganger, he was killed a few years ago. I ended up working as a pleasure girl for Marv. That was the fatass back there. But I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran. Right into quarantine zone 44, by mistake. He chased me, and you came upon us in the nick of time. As for what I do now...I don't know."
Callus was silent for a time, then spoke.
"Don't worry. We'll figure it out. And until we do, you can stay with me."
It was Daniella's turn to smirk;
"Thanks for the offer, but it isn't as if there is a lot of choice in the matter," she said, gesturing to the bars.
Callus smirked back.
"Oh, I get the feeling that is about to change.
***
"Colonel, appraise me of the situation, will you be so kind?"
"Yes, Governor. To put it bluntly, it has gotten infinitely worse. A large Ork fleet jumped out of the empyrean on the edge of the system approximately seven hours ago and destroyed the Imperial cruiser Guardian. About one and a half hours ago they destroyed the Crusader and the Patriot just outside orbit. They are currently in orbit around Hargon and there appears to be no way to dislodge them. To be honest, I am not yet sure why orbital strikes have, thus far, not begun."
"...I see. Have our good visitors been forthwith with any solutions?"
"No, sir."
"They are becoming more trouble than they are worth, I must say. Do they know about quarantined zone 44?"
"We have no evidence to suggest that they do, sir."
"Well, finally something goes right. Dismissed colonel."
"Thank you, sir."
"Oh, and colonel?"
"Yes?"
"Try to raise the Ork leader on the vox if at all possible. Tell him that the planetary governor wishes to...negotiate."
"Yes sir."
A moment of silence passed as the Colonel stood and left the darkened room. The governor sighed, and finished his brandy.
"You can get out as well."
His secretary got off her knees and scurried out in silence, wiping her mouth as she did. Gonsalves chuckled to himself. Everything would be fine. Just fine.
***
Footsteps, in the hallway. The Commissar was coming down, flanked by two blue-armored Storm Troopers. Callus turned to Daniella and winked. She simply looked back, her head cocked in a confused look. The door opened and the three men walked in. The Commissar was still gripping his bolter, and the Storm Troopers both had hell guns. Imperceptibly, Callus nodded to his men gravely. Jackson, Brenner, and Ox nodded back.
"Alright you filth. By order of the governor I'm to bring you in for questioning. Come with me. Men, cuff them." It was the commissar speaking.
One of the storm troopers started towards Jackson, a pair of restrains in hand. Jackson looked as if he planned to go peacefully, then, as if from nowhere, produced a knife, grabbed the trooper by the arm, twisted it around, and had him facing towards the commissar with the knife to his throat, who immediately raised his bolter. The other storm trooper began to raise his hell gun, but suddenly Brenner was on his feet, auto-pistol to his head. Ox too, produced a gun and trained it on the commissar.
"Looks like your men weren't exactly thorough in searching us, old chap. Sorry about that," Brenner said, his voice ice cold.
"Firstly, you all hand over your weapons," Callus said. "Give me the bolter."
Slowly, the Commissar placed the bolter on the ground and kicked it over to Callus, who picked it up.
"You too," he said to the troopers in the cell, who obliged, handing their hell guns over to Jackson and Brenner.
"Right. Now, you all stand here with your arms on your head while we leave this cell and lock you in. Commissar, I assume you have a keycard with fairly high security clearance. Give it to me, now."
"I have nothing of the sort, scum, and-"
"Give it to me or I'll blow your brains out the other side of your head."
The Commissar produced a small plastic card and handed it over. Callus examined it. It had a photo of him, with a microchip for scanning and an ID number. It seemed to check out.
"Okay boys, now you stay right where you are."
The squad filed out of the cell and slid the door shut. It locked in place with a loud click.
That's when the shooting started.
***
"Lord-General, we have some bad news."
"Yes?"
Lord-General Montego had been in the command pulpit for nearly nine hours. He had long ago removed his officer's cap, and his graying hair was tousled and unkempt. He was patrolling the pulpit, overseeing the defense. He had managed to keep the Ork assault neutralized outside the city, just barely. They were in constant assault on the city wall. One gigantic green mass, roaring and snapping and thirsting for the blood of man. He had taken heavy casualties in the trenches, and wished he had never committed troops to them in the first place.
"An Ork armada has come out of the warp and established orbital superiority over Hargon. The battle group that delivered us has been completely destroyed."
Montego turned, slowly, his face a death mask of pale white.
"What did you say?"
Suddenly, massive green balls of energy began raining down into the city, destroying massive sections of the hive. The orbital strikes had started.
"Go! Go! We have to get to a safe location!" Montego was yelling to the officers in the pulpit, as it rained death over New Gurgenstein.
***
In the temporary holding cells at Precinct 27, in the under hive of New Gurgenstein, the storm troopers would have completely lacerated Corporal Michael Callus, turning him into little more than strips of bloody flesh, if the strikes had not hit.
Callus hit the ground hard as the ground began to shake, the sounds of Jackson's and Brenner's hell guns firing accompanied Ox's auto-pistol. Rolling over onto his back, Callus took aim at what looked to be a full platoon of storm troopers and opened fire. The bolter rifle cut through them with ease, blasting massive holes in their carapace armor and the wall behind them.
"Come on, gents, I say it's time we go!"
Callus scrabbled to his feet and ran down a hallway, his men following.
A constable was at a desk near the door, and when he saw them he rose, bolt pistol in hand. Callus trained his rifle on the man's head.
"Drop the gun, sit down. Everything will be fine. You won't get hurt."
The constable obliged. Daniella scooped up the bolt pistol while Ox kicked the door in on a nearby weapons locker, pulling out a combat shotgun and loading it up.
Ox stared grimly at Callus, racking the weapon and nodding.
Callus nodded back.
"Give us the keys to one of your armored vehicles." Ox was speaking to the constable.
"I, I don't have the security authorization to get into the garage."
"Don't worry, we do. Now lead on," Ox said.
The man stood and took them over to a sliding door, while Callus produced the security card and opened it.
Immediately, fire.
"Holy Terra! Gun servitors!" Callus dropped to his knees and hid behind the door. Turning, he nodded to Jackson, who replied with a curt nod of his own, and turned and walked away.
Daniella looked at Callus inquisitively.
"He will be back momentarily."
Five minutes passed. Then, hell gun blasts. Jackson's voice.
"Gun servitors are disabled."
Callus turned to the constable.
"You go take the rest of the day off now, my good man."
The constable nodded and bolted out of the precinct.
The squad fanned into the room, seeing a locked desk with a label reading "Keys", Callus made a hand signal to Brenner, behind him, who blasted it with his hell gun.
Approaching, Callus moved to opened the desk,
"HOT! HOT! HOT!" Callus cried out, waving his hand. The skin on his hand was singed and burned
Stepping forward, Daniella grabbed a plastic marker that had been on the table, and used it to hook under the handle and drag the drawer open. She turned and smirked at Callus. He smirked back. Resourceful, too. He was starting to like this girl.
Reaching in, Callus grabbed a set of keys marked "52-A" and turned to his men.
"Alright, boys, let's move. The war's going on without us!"
Hive World Terra