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We held our ground, until it ran red up to our knees with our own blood. We held the line at the cost the Emperor demands of his loyal guardsmen, and for what? Nothing good will ever come of this, nothing new will grow here. This place was the death of my men, let it be the death of me.

-Confession of Arctus Vladir, Former Flag Captain of the 347th Company 56th Cadian Regiment, recorded before his summairy execution, by the mercy of the acting Commissar.

Some have said Cadia is the gateway to the Imperium, a beacon in the darkness on the edge of human space, a counter to Terra itself. These people know nothing of Cadia, nor of Terra. It is true that Cadia resembles humanities birthplace, its surface covered largely by vast oceans, and dispearsed continents, but the similarities end there. Terra is a beacon for the stability of man, and Cadia is a reminder of how close to the brink mankind really is.
Some nine thousand years have passed since man first stepped foot on Cadia, and for seven mellenia Cadians have held their ground against the hordes of Chaos pouring forth from the Eye of Terror. A Cadian, though human, is no mere man. Even the mighty legions of the Space Marines aknowledge their bravery, and their battle prowess. From birth, a Cadian is trained to fight, or left alone to die. Cadia is a world set for war, and all that comes with it.
Constant invasion looms, and the un-natural enemies of Chaos present themselves as an ominous ever present threat. Yet, mankind is not so weak as to sit idly by and wait for the descent. A Campaign soon to be launched, and long to be remembered is well into its preperation. Twelve Million men all told, prepare to disembark from the Cadian Gate, and make an Imperial foothold as far as possible into the Eye of Terror.

The greyish paint began to peel from the fab-barracks after facing so many back blasts from the thrusters of heavily ladened landing craft. The undertaking was beyond inpressive, almost beyond comprehension. As far as the eye could see, row upon row of men, machines, temporary structures, and hastily errected landing pads filled the landscape. It was almost like a still sea, or one of the great glaciers of Cadia, if such a thing could only eminate such a feeling of pure readiness.
Twenty million men to the campaign, two hundred thousand to the inter-planetary troop transport, eighty to the individual troop lander, and beyond that the heavy lifters bearing leman russ battle tanks by the bayful upwards, into, and past the blue-white clouds. Readiness, and pride.
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