++ Obey your officers for they are the voice of the Emperor ++

They still hadn’t managed to find a solution to the problem that Vir was rapidly turning into. Outwardly he was still managing to keep things together. His command cadre certainly didn’t seem to have picked up on anything bar the fact that he was a hard drinker, something that armed forces the galaxy did as often as they could.

In the carrier he had become an irrelevance. He would issue orders and if they made sense they would be followed. Obeyed would be the wrong word. Followed or agreed with would be more accurate. If they didn’t make sense, then his crew would completely disregard them. As a result, their training scores rapidly started to climb and gave Vir a lot of kudos.

The atmosphere within the carrier was, to say the least, colder than the north pole. Vir and Kraiman were careful to keep their hatred of each other hidden in public, but it boiled over once they were sealed away from the rest of the troop and the dismounts.

Now they were waiting to board their assigned shuttle. V013 had already been loaded onto a vehicle carrier with the rest of the troop vehicles, and the crews were lined up on the parade ground, sitting on their kit bags, chatting and playing card games.

Unlike with other vehicles there was also a distinct barrier between the crew and the dismounts. Silex was doing his best to hold things together but with the vehicle commander being a paranoid alcoholic and stim addict and Kraiman and Singeorge overriding his orders at every turn the dismounts had very low morale. Every time the doors opened and they poured out they were never sure whether they were in the right place, whether the vehicle was going to run them over or whether they were going to catch a stray round.

Kraiman wound his way through the kit bags carrying a couple of cups of hot char. Just as he was about to hand it over he tripped, tipping it all over the floor.

‘Watch it you clumsy slit! You that careless with your cannon?’ Kraiman turned to see Lance-Corporal Amdee, second-in-command of the dismounts sneering at him.

‘What’s your fugging problem you toss-pot?’ Kraiman poked In the chest with a hard finger.

The dismount leaned forward, 'my problem is you. Nokeene was my mate and if I ever find out what really happened that day I'll kill you.' he turned and stormed off leaving Kraiman there with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The rest of the boarding went smoothly and they soon found themselves adequate if not entirely comfortable quarters. The ship that they were on had been brought out of retirement due to the losses the fleet had suffered in the initial attack. Theirs was not the only one either and so the fleet lumbered rather than roared towards their destination. Due to the close proximity of the planets there would be no need for warp travel and so they plodded along at sub-light speeds alternating their time between physical exercise, briefings and training drills.

----

As vacuum capable craft go the Aquila is tiny, a mere speck. 'Dream Girl' was one such speck and she drifted silently through the vacuum towards her target.

'Listen up, people,' Sergeant Linkone was a veteran, like many pulled out of a well-earned (and rare) retirement. Unfortunately the rest of his squad were still somewhat green behind the ears.

'Our target is a kappa-class comms relay station. We know that the orks have captured it and are using it to cover this sector. Our job is to go in, fugg it up and blind them. That's the strategy, so let's go over the tactics.'

By the time the aquila ghosted up to the relay, every member of the stormtrooper squad had what they needed to do firmly set in their mind. They stood crowded in the small airlock and waited for the greenlight. The approach had been done smoothly, the ship ghosting in under minimal power so as to blend in with the other detritus caused by millenia of Imperium presence.

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The light finally turned green and the doors opened. The corridor beyond was badly lit, but they could clearly see scorch marks and bolter holes all over the sides, floors and ceilings.

Guns up they bounded down the corridor towards the internal airlock, paused to open it and then quickly moved through into the reception area beyond.

They stopped, appalled at the scene of carnage before them. early the crew had put up a decent fight, but to no avail. Some had died in the initial storming of the station, but others looked as if they had come back this way to escape. Trapped they had been cut down, cut apart to a man and then - judging by the appearance of some of the bodies - partially eaten.

Linkone had seen it all before but he knew that for the rest this was the first time they had truly seen a dead body, let alone what their eyes were feasting on.

'Looks like they had a hell of a party here. Their domestic servitors suck, I wouldn't want them cleaning up our mess hall!' he gave a bark of laughter and his apparent indifference gave his squad a visible kick up the arse.

'Ahab, stop puking like a newborn that's drunk too much milk from his mummy's titties and take point. The rest of you, join me in the litany of 'let's go kill the slits that did this.' There was a rupple of chuckles and the squad moved on, their minds firmly back on the job.

carefully they moved out to their objectives fireteam kappa was to go to the power generator and fireteam delta to the control room.

The sergeant was leading delta as heavier resistance was expected in the control room. Due to the size of the station, the ork presence wasn't expected to be too heavy.

Hellgun at the ready, he peered around the final corner before the control room. Stood in front of the remains of the door were what looked like a couple yoofs, inexperienced orks that had little or no battle experience. Beyond them he could see clearly into the room and the dim outlines of greenskins of all sorts clattering around.

He shuffled back on his stomach and stood up.

'Maddox, Wiking, on my word engage the two by the door. Bambam, as soon as you get the all clear, empty your launcher into the room. We'll then move up and chuck the det charges into the room. It's small so no need to actually get in there. Clear? Right. On three.'

He counted up on his fingers. As soon as his third finger was up Maddox and Wiking stepped into the corridor, hell guns blazing. The yoofs were taken completely by surprise, charred holes appearing on their chests and heads. Without even being able to react they pitched forward.

'Clear!' Maddox and Wiking went into the kneel and continued to pour fire into the room behind. Bambam stepped around, launcher stock firmly tucked into his chest.

'Grenades!' he rapidly emptied the magazine of his launcher, shifting slightly so as to overlap the spread of damage. Howls and screams of pain and anger followed each explosion and damage and fire klaxons started to sound.

The sergeant ran forward and slung the det charge through the door, pitching a couple of phos grenades for good measure before turning and diving to the floor, feet towards the door, head away.

The other three whipped back around the door as a monumental blast blew shrapnel, body parts and pieces of electrical pieces out of the entrance. Aside from the sirens there wasn't a sound from the room. He dusted himself and took a quick look in. The room was completely destroyed, as were the greenskins that had been inside. Due to the state of the bodies it was hard to estimate numbers but there should have been at least a squad's worth.

'Delta to kappa, how's it going? Delta objective clear.'

'Kappa to delta. Clear. Light resistance. Making our way to the extraction point.'

Delta quickly made their way back to the airlock. Mission accomplished, they piled back into their ship and powered off towards base.