Senior officer Darius Ascyzic surveyed the ruins that was once a great city from his Valkyrie gunship. Before him, the gutted ruins of the so-called “Silver City” of Dakhra Prime stretched for miles around, a silent reminder of what the ruinous powers of Chaos could do.
If this city could talk, thought Darius, they would scream.
He watched from his seat as several other gunships carrying the brave men of the Helsreach 308th legion's initial landing force flew gracefully over the ravaged population centres of the city. Even a hundred feet from the ground, Darius could see bodies littering the ground, murdered ruthlessly by renegades. He forced himself to avert his eyes.
A armoured hand belonging to Mylein Jenson, the leader of his Stormtrooper bodyguard, patted his back in reassurance. When he looked into her red steel visor, she simply nodded.
“Two minutes to destination,” said the pilot.
Touching the officer's badge situated over his left breast, Darius took in a deep breath. This is it, he thought, my first mission as an officer.
The first thing Darius noticed when he landed was that Commissar Garth and his 122nd had already set up a small makeshift military base near the colossal gates to the city.
“They certainly are organized here, aren't they?” Said Mylein, looking around.
“And fast, too,” muttered Darius, admiring their handiwork.
A short guardsman jogged up to Darius. His equipment designated him as a vox-caster. He quickly saluted.
“Guardsman Phillip, sir. The Commissar wanted you to see him as soon as you landed. He's in the black tent, over there,” said the Guardsman, jerking a thumb to the large black tent that dominated the centre of the makeshift outpost.
Nodding to Guardsman Phillip, Darius led his bodyguard to the tent. Inside was a large array of communications equipment, security personnel and, of course, the Commissar himself, in the centre of it all, barking orders.
“Senior officer Darius Ascyzic reporting, sir,” said Darius.
All work in the room seemed to stop momentarily. All eyes turned to see the new arrival. They eyed him like an outsider, scrutinizing the young officer as they would a gun.
“Everybody, back to work!” shouted the Commissar, his voice gruff and deep. “It's just the officer of the 308th.” Everyone went back to work.
The Commissar motioned Darius forward as he shooed away a soldier.
“How many men do you have?” He asked, not taking his eyes off a large, digital map.
“Right now, sir, around a hundred or so. More are on their way.”
“How many more, Commander?”
“Eight thousand infantrymen and two armoured division of around three dozen tanks each and two Baneblades, sir.”
Commissar Garth contemplated this for a moment. “That'll do, I suppose. We're still heavily outnumbered but maybe the armoured divisions will make a difference...” He trailed off.
“What is our combined force, Commissar?” Asked Darius, clasping his hands behind his back.
“With your eight thousand men, we have around twenty thousand infantry. With your tanks, we have around four hundred tanks.
Four hundred tanks? Thought Darius. That is quite an armoured division.
“Are there any others helping with the invasion?” Asked Darius.
“Of course, you fool!” barked Garth. “We can't take an entire planet from the Heretics with twenty thousand men and four hundred tanks. No, we have the western continent. There are several other legions taking the north, south and east. Throne, how did you become an officer with a mind like that?”
The comment stung, but Darius did not let it show. He had dealt with Commissars before, and they all behaved in a similar manner. They commanded nothing less than perfection, especially from their subordinate officers.
Groaning, Garth waved Darius away.
“Go call down the rest of your men. We'll need them fast. There's no telling when Chaos will strike.”
Last edited by Alsojames; 12-31-11 at 06:42 AM.