"Dear B.B.,
This planet is amazing! The ceiling here is big, blue and it seems to go on forever in every direction! Maybe this is that 'sky' thing that a lot of the other soldiers were talking about on the way over here. Whatever it is, this planet is nothing like the hives on Corvis Major. There's lots of open space everywhere (Furst says it's wasted on all this green stuff on the ground apparently called 'grass,' but I think it's beautiful), there aren't any deep chasms in the middle of the city to fall into, the people are friendly (even if they do speak a completely different language. Stupid translator spirit not working properly...) and the air has a completely different smell and is much easier to breathe. It's also incredibly bright, but apparently that's supposed to change in a few hours when the sun sets.
However, I know I'm not a tourist. I've come here to do a job, and by the Emperor I'm gonna do it and come back home alive. It's what I want, and I know it's what you want, as well. Wait for me, okay?
From Lietuvos with love,
- Specialist Andrew Franklin, 08th MST"
The recovery operation was nearing completion. All in all, 1st Platoon suffered a total of five fatalities and a dozen minor casualties, along with minor battle damage to the supporting Vulture carrying the hellstrike missiles. In comparison, only seventeen enemy soldiers out of an estimated 200 survived, and all of those who survived had surrendered. Halder watched as the prisoners were taken away in covered trucks by elements of the Cadian 71st Infantry Regiment, presumably to face trial and execution for treason and war crimes. He then turned to the Chimeras being loaded with the deceased; his five men plus the girl Bravo Squad found. With any luck, they'd be able to find out where she came from, and be able to inform her family of her fate. Halder shook his head. Some of the things that happened in war made him wonder if he was really fighting human beings and not Orks or Tau.
DaCosta approached Halder bearing a dataslate and stylus. "Lieutenant," he began, "Colonel Sharps wants a report on the mission by tomorrow, you need to sign this resupply request and the forms regarding the fallen should be filled out as soon as possible."
"Ah, well," Halder sighed as he took the slate and stylus and began to sign form after form, "This needs to be done anyway. Let's get it over with."
"Yes, yes, I understand, sir," Captain Brooks said as he swept his pen across yet another form, authorizing another Company-level action with his signature, "Although an evacuation would probably make more sense in the short term, I suppose a show of force would benefit us more in the long run. I'll send in Halder's boys; if they can't handle it, no one but Space Marines can."
Brooks hung up the handset to his desk-vox as he heard a knocking on the door to his office. "Come," he ordered as Lieutenant Halder opened the door and stepped in, stood at attention and saluted. "First Lieutenant Andrew Halder, reporting as ordered, sir," he said.
"Have a seat, Andy," Brooks said as he put his pen away. Halder sat down in one of the chairs set in front of the Captain's desk. "Colonel Sharps was impressed by your prompt action the other night," Brooks continued, "Five minutes from start to finish... that's a new record for your boys, ain't it?"
"Yes sir, it is," Halder replied, "Every one of them gave it 110%."
"Still," Brooks began, "you took a few more casualties than normal, correct?"
"Yes, sir. I'm still working on the paperwork, but I don't know when my men will be getting reinforcements. Are there any reserves available?"
"No, unfortunately," Brooks chuckled slightly, "I'm surprised at you, Halder. Why don't you use the Departmento form letters for writing to next-of-kin? It would make your workload that much easier, you know."
"With all due respect, sir," Halder replied, "I prefer to write those letters myself. Those were men under my command who died, and I owe it to them and their families to tell them personally."
"Suit yourself," Brooks responded, "Just remember what I said when one of your birds goes down. It takes forever to explain to the tech department why you deserve a new Valkyrie when you let the last one go down in flames."
Halder paused. "Pardon my asking, sir," he said, "but do we know anything more about that civilian girl Lukas and his squad found?"
"Not much," Brooks replied, "From what the Medicae tell me, her bloodstream was so full of drugs and adrenaline she might as well have been in the Warp. Unfortunately, we still have no idea who she was or where she came from."
Brooks opened his drawer and pulled out the binder labeled "Operation Victory." "This," he said, "appears to be the outline of the campaign plan of one of the smaller factions, headed by the self-proclaimed First Citizen Vyrum Vilkas. He's a petty dictator, no better than the Imperial Governor of Lietuvos. If the contents of this document are any indication, he has grandiose dreams of conquest on a global scale." Brooks shook his head in disbelief. "As if he has the sort of force to be able to make a sustained assault..." he muttered, "Still, I have my orders." Brooks slid another small bound document over to Halder. Halder looked at it curiously. "Operation Guardian Angel..." Halder muttered as he read the cover of the document.
"Lieutenant Halder," Brooks declared, "The 1st Platoon will join up with the 15th Platoon from Delta Company at the Linas Province to secure the region and reinforce the PDF regiment stationed there. High Command has appointed you to be the supreme commander of all friendly forces stationed in the area, effective the minute I handed you those orders. All the operational details are contained within the document you have in your hands.
"Additionally," he continued, "one new person has been assigned to your command staff." He pressed a button on the desk-vox. "Julia, could you send him in, please?" His request was answered momentarily by the sound of the door opening.
In walked the most intimidating individual Halder had met in his life. Clad in the elaborate armor, black trenchcoat, jackboots and peaked cap of the Schola Progenium, Halder didn't need an introduction to know that this man was a commissar. His short, black beard was immaculately trimmed and waxed, and he wore a black bolt pistol at his hip and a gargantuan gauntlet that Halder suspected was a power fist on his left arm. "Greetings, First Lieutenant Andrew Halder," the man said with a deep, gravelly voice, "I am Commissar William Sutherland. I trust you will accomplish this mission to the Emperor's satisfaction. Don't betray my trust."
Mentally, Halder facepalmed. Commissars generally didn't last long in the 08th Corvis.
There was quite a bit of commotion at the base's airfield as Valkyries were being loaded with weapons and supplies, Vultures were rearmed and larger vehicle transports began loading tanks and other armored vehicles into their massive bulks. Ground crews scrambled around each aircraft, making last-minute checks to the hulls of their charges under the watchful eyes and cameras of the base's techpriests.
Although not strictly permitted by Imperial doctrine, it was considered a tradition of air crews in the Corvis regiments to overcome the anonymity of mechanized combat by applying personalized decals or paintings onto the hulls of their vehicles, so long as they didn't significantly impact the overall color scheme of black, white and gray. This "nose art" took a variety of forms; paintings of beautiful women, playing cards or dice, stylized animal features or even sports team logos. One example was a curious airbrushing in a chocolate-sepia tone of a generously proportioned woman seated on what looked to all the world like a gigantic slice of syrup-coated cake, holding a rather large spoon in her hands with the words "chocolate girl" underneath in flowing, chocolate-brown cursive script. Sergeant Lukas and his squad were all standing nearby their Valkyrie, a boxy gray contraption with this particular piece of nose art on the right side beneath the cockpit.
"Okay, boys and girls, listen up!" Lukas shouted to his squad, "I know we have some new faces transferred in from 3rd Platoon, but that doesn't mean that we're goin' on a damn milk run.
"The amateurs playing soldier down in Linas Province seem to be having trouble with the enemy, a division of troops from this planet's own defense force led by First Citizen Vyrum Vilkas, a militaristic dictator with delusions of grandeur. Whether he's evil or not ain't for us to decide; our job is to make sure that his forces don't interfere with our mission to stabilize the planet. This is why we're hooking up with the 15th Platoon and flying over to Jonava, the capital of the province which is also a major sea port. Apparently we're supposed to reinforce the local militia with actual firepower and ranking officers, with our own Lieutenant Halder being appointed supreme commander of all Imperial forces in the area." There was some murmuring among the squad at the mention of Halder possibly commanding an entire brigade.
"I haven't heard whether or not he's actually getting promoted for this yet," Lukas continued, "but that's what the brass tell me. Anyways, we have another new member joining us for this mission. Lieutenant, if you could step forward?"
A man who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties stepped forward, dressed in a flight suit and carrying his helmet under his arm. "Good morning, everyone," he began, "My name is First Lieutenant Keith Burning, I'll be your pilot for this operation."
Allan raised his hand. "What happened to Lieutenant Kessler, sir?" he asked.
"I really don't know the details," Burning replied, "but it seems that he was called away under Inquisitorial order or something. Regardless, I have been assigned to your squad for the duration of this operation. I hope we can all get along."
Lukas clapped his hands together. "Okay! Bravo Squad, move out!" he barked. Bravo Squad began to file into their Valkyrie, carrying their weapons and enough supplies to last them for a mission should they get separated from the supply plane.
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