Saga of Fenris - Boris Grevane 

This is a running story of my locally famed IG 1st Platoon Lieutenant who single handedly pulled the fight through on the Hell Divers finest hour mega battle in our area from the Medusa V campaign. After he and his retinue single handedly defeated a charging Kroot squad, and then charged an Ork squad of 15, then a battle suit, then a squad of fire warriors, and went on to cross tables to another fight before the battle ended, all of this happening with only his retinue and 1st Platoon behind his back. He became famed that day. I pulled out a victory only because of Ferin. 2nd Squad was wiped out to their lieutenant who held a whole 750 point Ork army in place by himself long enough for a Orbital strike to decimate the Orks, and a Kroot squad who were literally piling onto him. This is the Saga of Ferin, accidentally drafted from the planet of Fenris.

Chapter 1: Land of Ice and Snow
“Only in His will do we survive.”
The clang of iron in the forge rang out as Halen Ferins father; Jorgen pounded the red hot iron. Sparks leapt and danced from the metal with each hammer strike. As the color dimmed, Jorgen turned and thrust the iron into the furnace.
“Ok Halen, pump the bellows. Your next. Remember what I told you. Hard, steady strikes.” Jorgen said to Halen as he wiped his brow.
Halen levered the bellows up and down. With each downward thrust, the air fanned the fire, making it intensely hot.
After doing this for a minute, Halen grabbed the iron out of the furnace with heavily gloved hands and laid it on the anvil. Taking his fathers hammed, he slammed it down onto the edge of the piece of iron. Sparks leapt again as the hammer shaped the metal.
His father sat on a bench near the open window with a skin of water.
Outside, the snow fell gently onto the village. Several children played in the snow, throwing snowballs or playing games. His village had gotten used to the snow a long time ago, and life always went as if it weren’t there. The people managed to cope with it.
Halen worked on, shaping the sword blade for another hour while his father oversaw his work and added help when needed.
Finally as the sun began to set, his father began putting up the equipment.
“Make sure you stow that hammer and scatter the fire out. If we don’t get back soon, your mother will throw a fit.” Halens father said.
As they left the warm workshop, the cold hit them hard, making their faces sting. Activity was winding down in the village, as people went home for dinner. It was also because the nights were very cold.
The village Valara was located on one of the northern islands, in a valley that opens onto the see. Due to its location it was seldom a target of tribal attacks. Especially now in the dead of winter when the sea was frozen over. In summer, it was still not all that ideal. With very little farm land, it relied mostly on the sea to provide for them. They worked hard out on the water in the summer, to bring in enough to last through winter. Now in winter, there was very little to do. The ships were all pulled up on the beaches, and the fishermen go on to other work, or spend their time in the tavern.
Ferins family house was not far from the workshop, not more than several strides away. It was one floor with only a few rooms. The Kitchen, his parent’s room and the communal room where his twin brother Koran and his little sister Taila slept.
As they entered the house, the smell of fish stew hit his nose.
“Go ahead and get a seat you two, the stews almost ready.” His mother yelled from the kitchen.
Halen took a seat next to his brother who immediately jabbed a finger in his ribs.
“Have fun pounding metal my beloved brother?” he said with a grin.
“Yea, you should try it sometimes, it could prove you really are a man after all.” Halen replied.
Koran was about to say something back when his mother and sister came in from the kitchen bearing a large steaming bowl. They ate supper, talking about the day, and how long they thought winter will last. After dinner not much happens, in any house hold in the village for that matter. Its dark and it gets cold. The family turned in shortly after dinner, Halen taking his usual spot near the fire.

He took a long time to get to sleep. Finally after tossing and turning for an hour or two he slept. Immediately he found himself on strange earth. It was muddy, and the rain fell heavy. Big red drops of water fell from a sickly red and orange sky. The earth was pockmarked with craters and only few skeletal trees stood against the hellish background. He stood next to one of these trees, and touching it, found it brittle and dead, charred bark dusting off it. He could hear the sounds of gun fire and rapid cracks and explosions and popping. Looking up passed the tree, his eyes widened in horror. A great army of thousands were surging towards where he stood. They were evil, demonic looking creatures. They wore pitch black armor with cold, and had horns coming from all different areas of their bodies. They wore bones and skulls from chains draped over their armor, and their eyes glowed with bale fire.
He turned around and ran, watching over his shoulder. He stumbled across the muddy land when shouting came to his ears. Looking up he saw thousands, maybe even millions of men in trenches. They wore odd armor and clothing and their weapons seemed useless against the coming tide of demons, but what caught his gaze was the determined look in their faces. Fear showed in their eyes but they stood their resolutely against the evil. He stood up on top of the trenches; no one apparently could see him and watched the demons surging forth. Several shouts yelled out over the lines and men sprang to the walls of the trenches. With a single yell, great iron beasts belched fire, the thunder of them resounding across the field. The roaring of the weapons was astounding. Looking out over the field, Halen saw great gouts of dirt and demons ripped from the ground in balls of fire. The ground shook with the weapons as the earth exploded.
As the demons neared the trenches though it seemed as if the great power of those beasts was futile. They still numbered upon thousands. Suddenly from high overhead, a great beam of light shot from the heavens and impacted the center of the horde. A massive wave of fire and dirt engulfed the whole center of the horde. Another beam hit in the horde and the same destruction came again. Then there was a brilliant flash of light and Halen had to cover his eyes.
As he looked up again he saw warriors standing in front of the horde. They wore great silver and god armor, parchment fluttering from it, and in their hands they hefted a great halberd with a dull glowing blade. They seemed to glow with power. Halen was stood in awe. But as he looked he saw only 30 of them in total. No matter how holy they could be, they would surely be engulfed in the sheer tide. The circled up around one of them, a massive warrior whore bore a sword easily bigger then Halen himself single handed. He held a parchment in the other. Word of an unknown language echoed across the field towards Halens ears and he saw a great flash of light. Suddenly, and of the demons who got near them were instantly engulfed in fire and died. The demons seemed to stop, circling the warriors, till suddenly the man put down the parchment and took up his sword. As one the warriors leapt into the demonic army.

Halen awoke with a start; a cold sweat drenched his body. He looked around the room to see the dwindling fire, and his brother and sister sleeping quietly. He stood up and placed a few more logs onto the fire. The dream still in his thoughts. He found himself wondering what had happened to those silver clad warriors, and what was this place he was seeing.
As he thought these things over he felt the house tremble a bit and the sound of a growing wail over head came to his ears. He snatched up the axe by the fire, and raced outside. The wail was incredibly loud now, and the ground shook as a massive ball of fire flew over the village. It went passed and disappeared over the mountains, north of the village. All over the village people were beginning to appear from their houses looking into the sky. From behind him, his father ran out, bearing his own weapon, and looking around.
“Halen! What was that? Where is that terrible beast?” he said.
“I-I don’t know. It was a great fireball that streaked across the skies.” He said.
The people did not stay outside long. Eventually they all went back inside and went to bed, but kept their weapons close. All except Halen. He stood outside the door for nearly and hour after his family had returned to their dreams. He stood wondering if his dream had been a vision. If he was meant to follow this comet. Finally, after an hour, he made up his mind.

Chapter 2: Travelers of the Stars
“In this universe, there are only two absolutes, Life, and Death.”
   Halen sat down on the rock overlooking the valley. Reaching around he took a water skin from his pack and took a swig. It had been a couple days since he had left his village, sneaking out in the night. His brother had caught him and tried to not let him go, but Halen managed to talk him out of trying. Looking up he gauged it to be about midday, the sun was high in the crisp blue sky.
   Packing up his water skin, he hefted the sack once more and continued into the mountains. He climbed for several hours before finding an empty cave, the snow almost covering the entrance. He dug out some of the snow and threw his pack inside. Before entering himself he dug in the snow for a while and found enough wood for a fire to keep him warm through the night.
   He supped on a piece of bread and cheese, and fell asleep near the fire. He slept soundly through the night. The cold air kept at bay by the fire and the almost sealed entrance. When he awoke the fire had burned down to embers. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he opened up the entrance and crawled out. It hadn’t snowed last night so it was easy to make out his footprints coming up the mountain trail.
As he looked over the valley he heard a shrill high pitched wailing and immediately dove to the ground. From across the valley two iron birds came speeding up. They sped directly over head and he could make out an emblem of a two headed bird beneath the wings. The sound of them became incredibly loud as they passed, blowing up snow. He watched them fly for a mile or so and then hover and land. A ridge blocked his sight from the area they landed at, but it was definitely the place he had to go.
He quickly grabbed his bag and began to walk quickly through the pass. After half a mile, he began heading downhill. The path was covered in snow that hid large rocks and cracks. He tripped, stumbled and rolled his ankle many times during the descent. His mind tried to compose an idea of what he might see when he got to the ledge. Would he find those demons from his dream? Or the human warriors?
He finally got to the base of the steep hill and jogged the 200 meters to the edge of the cliff. As he got near it, his pulse quickened, and he slowed down. He went towards the ledge crouching so as not to attract any attention. When he saw into the canyon his heart skipped a beat in awe.
Below him stood a massive iron ship of odd design. It was easily twice as large as his village. Scores of men, like ants, worked around it, setting up tents and an assortment of alien technology. Emblazoned on the side of the ship was a massive icon. A twin headed bird, its wings spread, with one eye closed and the other open. Suddenly he heard scuffling behind him, and turning around found 10 men bearing their weapons on him. He remembered the weapons from his dream and knew their power. They looked almost like the men from the dream too, but their armor and clothing were of different colors. They could blend in with the snow, which is probably why he hadn’t seen them before.
One of them spoke in an odd language, which Halen could not understand. The motions of his weapon was of a universal language though. The man wanted Halen to follow him. With little other choices afforded to him, Halen got up and followed the obvious leader of these men.
They marched for nearly an hour down various paths in the cliff. When he got to the base of the cliff, his eyes were wide in wonder. He was seeing things he had never imagined possible by man. Great iron beasts belched smoke and roared as they roved around the area. The iron birds screamed overhead and thousands of men marched and trained in clearings. He saw a group training with the odd weapons they had. The weapon would give a loud cracking sound and a crimson beam of light would shoot out of the tip at what they pointed it at. They marched on through the camp, the other soldiers oblivious or uncaring to the group.
Finally they came to a large tent, the size of Halens home. Inside it, many men bustled about, poking at odd machines, and shouting at each other in their language. He got hustled to the back into a separate room where he came face to face of the obvious leader. He looked to be a man of great power and intelligence. His face was scared and he had a red piece of glass where his left eye should have been. When he stood up, his right arm sounded as if it was whirring. Colored ribbons and a few gold metal pieces shone on his chest. On his hip dangled a marvelously crafted sword that looked good enough for show and for battle.
The two leaders talked for a while, gesturing now and again to Halen. Having no idea what they were talking about, Halen looked around the room. It was scarcely furnished and seemed very temporary. Suddenly one man left the room and returned a little while later with a wiry looking man. He didn’t seem to be the combat type.
The wiry man turned to Halen and said, “Hello. My name is Ferrego. Who are you?”
Halen was taken aback that this man knew his language.
“I am Halen Ferin, son of Jorgen Ferin.” He replied.
“Why were you sneaking around on the ridge watching us.” He asked. The man did not have a friendly voice. It was cold and to the point.
“I was curious. I had never seen such things even in my dreams.” Halen replied.
“You are not an agent of any kind?” Ferrego asked.
“What is an agent?”
“Never mind. So you are a native of Fenris?”
“Yes.”
Ferrego looked at Halen for a while before he turned to the commander and said a few words. After a minute he turned back to Halen and said, “Due to this units losses in the last campaign you are being taken into it. Welcome to the Imperium. You will follow these men to a place where you will be taught our language of Gothic, along with a few other useful things.”
With that the man turned on his heal and left. Halen sat there confused for a moment before it finally hit him. He rose to his feet and shouted after the man, “You can’t do that! This is my home! The Gods will smite you down if you steal me from my home!”
There was no reply. The men Halen was meant to follow were draped in robes, and had tubes coming from odd parts of their bodies. They shepherded him out of the room and into another where there was an odd little machine on a table with a chair pulled up. It looked very ancient.
One of the robed figures gestured for him to sit down. He did so, more in curiosity than wanting to be cooperative. They took a thin circlet attached to several wires from a stand and placed it on his head. It made his skin tingle but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Then they flipped a switch and images and words and sounds rushed into his head. He couldn’t make any one thing out clearly until suddenly it stopped on one image. A massive god-like figure in golden armor atop a great throne of gold. A palace as big as the continent he was on with mile high walls and a stone stair way a mile wide, going up for a thousand steps. Suddenly he knew who it was, and the images continued to flash. Great battles fought between the massive ships, great armies clashing with each other over millions of planets, huge machines of war, hundreds of feet tall.
The images finally stopped and Halen looked up, soaked in sweat, his heart racing. Some of the images still played in his head as they took off the circlet. When he stood up he felt drunk. He swayed and couldn’t walk straight, as he followed the robed figures outside. The cold air woke him with a start. He followed the figures still, but this time, instead of hearing babble when he came through the camp, he could understand some of the talking.
They took him inside a large, round tent, where half a dozen men sat around a card table, smoking and playing a game. They all immediately stood to attention when the robed figures entered. One of the men and the figures talked quietly. Halen looked around and saw it was a living area. It seemed some 25 men fit in it, in two circled rows around the center which held a very large table.
The two finally stopped talking and the grizzled looking man came over and stood in front of Halen. He looked him up and down, while at the same time Halen looked the man up and down. He seemed like a veteran warrior. Scars covered almost all of his exposed skin, and his teeth clamped the massive cigar as if he would die if it fell.
“So. We got fresh blood. What’s your name boy?” the man said.
Halen bristled at the lack of respect. Sure veterans weren’t expected to show full respect to younger warriors, but there was a small amount they should show, in courtesy. This man showed none.
“Halen Ferin, son of Jorgen Ferin. One of the best warriors in my village.” He spat at the man.
He tried standing up straight but swayed a little. He was definitely not at his best.
The man gave a rough, barking laugh.
“You got spirit Ferin. But you call me Sergeant from now on. Sergeant Tor. This is your squad. That big man Tubs, he works the heavy weapons. That’s Urik, Red, Jack, Q, and Jonse. Now come with me so we can get you outfitted and meet Flips, our commanding officer.”
“My name is Halen.”
“I like Ferin. Your Ferin from now on.”
Ferin glared, which did nothing more than make the Sergeant laugh.
“C’mon boy. Let’s get you geared up.”

An hour later, Ferin was walking towards a large tent. He was clad in a cloak that shifted color and design, and had on some of the armor the other men wore. He had a backpack of gear on his back as well as a weapon called a sniper rifle, a las-pistol, and his own inherited battle-axe. He bore much of his own emblems, such as totems and runes and family marks on his weapons and armor and around his neck. He looked very little like the other men, but he was very little like them anyways.
His feet crunched on the packed dirty snow. The tent was not as large as the big command tent, but it was of considerable size. As he stepped through the door, it was much more relaxed than the regimental command. The officers sat around the table looking over papers and maps and such. A few of them were sipping on recaf, a rather disgusting warm drink in Ferins mind, and talking.
As the Sergeant and Ferin entered, Tor immediately saluted and went rigid. Ferin gave him an odd look until Tor hit him on the back of the head, then Ferin got the idea that that was what you were supposed to do. The officers looked up at the Sergeant and the smaller man next to him.
“Sergeant Tor! What is this?” a man asked.
“Sir! This is a new recruit we were given. Name’s Ferin. He’ll be taking the role of scout, and tracker sir.” Tor replied, back straight.
“Hey! Lieutenant! You got yourself some new blood.” A man called out.
The man who was previously talking stepped up to Ferin.
“At ease son. I’m Colonel Horin, commander of this company.” Horin said, and at that moment another, younger man came forward as well.
“I’m Lieutenant Talsh, your Platoon commander. Welcome to the Guard.” Talsh said with a grin.
The men talked for a while with Tor, before they dismissed them.
Walking back to the barracks, Tor looked down at Ferin and said, “It won’t be so bad. You’ll get to see new places, new planets. Help people. You’ll grow to like it, just watch. Also, if your around the L-T, then be carefully, he’s not nicknamed Flips for nothing".

Chapter 3: Upon the Sea of Stars
"Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!"
“Were getting outa here!” a man yelled as he ran into the tent.
   Ferin rubbed his eyes, getting the sleep out of them. It was still fairly early, and looking around he saw the rest of the men getting out from bed and looking around. The sergeant got up and stretched before looking to the obviously ecstatic man who was in the doorway.
“Were getting outa here! Begin packing! The ships repaired!” the man said.
The other men looked to each other and smiled. Before Ferin knew what was going on, they were running about, packing.
“So…we’re we going anyways?” Ferin asked, sitting in his bunk.
“Home, son. Cadia. It’s been nearly 19 years since I set foot on Cadia.” Tor said, as he packed his things.
Ferin looked wide eyed. 19 years was a very long time. Ferin looked outside. He’d probably never see his home at all. Mournfully, Ferin began packing his pack.

The camp bustled about busily. Engines roared as movers and tanks moved equipment and supplies into the ship. Men ran about carrying equipment, and nothing drowned out the yelling of commanding officers. In a matter of 2 hours the whole tenet city was disassembled and in movers heading into the ship. Men started boarding the transport, as the last of the Valkyries landed and were locked into mag-locks on the ship. Crewmen ran around making final checks. It looked like chaos, but had an undefined order to the happenings.
Outside, Ferin sat on the edge of the former compound, looking up into the mountains. His pack sat next to him. In front of him sat his past. Peaceful and calm. Behind him in the turmoil sat his future. Unknown and definitely dangerous. The crunching of boots behind him came to his ears. He knew who it was before they got to him.
“If you’re thinking of running, I wouldn’t suggest it.” The disembodied voice of Tor said.
“I’m not thinking about it. I’m just taking in the last sights of my home.” Ferin replied coldly.
Tor sat down next to him and looked out into the mountains.
“You know. On my planet of Cadia, I always knew someday I would leave. It’s the way of our world. We live in such a dangerous area. A saying has sprung up that goes something like, “On Cadia, the children learn to strip a lasgun before they learn to write.” I’m not here to do quotes though. My point is that even though I knew I would leave, when it came time, it was hard. I did it though, and found amazing things out there among the stars. Unimaginable things. Everyone leaves their home sometime. Your time has just come a little quicker.”
Ferin looked up at him with a cold stare, “It may have been easier if I wasn’t forced into it.”
Tor smiled, “Sure. But now you’re here, so get excited.”
The grizzled Sergeant got up and slung his pack over his shoulder.
“That’s an order by the way.”
Ferin spat in the snow as the veteran left. Getting up he slung his pack over a shoulder and hefted his sniper rifle. Turning he strode down the now deserted snow packed street and up the ramp into the spacecraft.

Ferin stared out the window into the darkness of space. He could see twinkling of stars, and other ships. Many other ships surrounded his, and many were a great deal larger. They were made of great arches toped with fearsome beasts, some had crafted, colored glass in between the great pillars. They bristled with guns and a cloud of smaller fighter escorts surrounded them. It held him at the window in awe.
Over the intercom the voice of the captain came through.
“All passengers, please prepare for warp jump.”
Ferin took his seat and belted himself in. His squad mates had been telling him rather horrific stories of the warp and what it does and his first trip in had him extremely tense.
The intercom counted down. At 1, it felt as if he was being stretched, and stomped on, his stomach almost turned, and suddenly it was over. Looking around he saw nothing different, the same cold steel room, and his same squad mates. Looking out the window though he saw a great turning mass of dark red clouds, he sometimes picked out what he thought were faces and hands reaching up. He quickly pulled the covering over the window and left it there.
“Well, we are on our way. We have 3 weeks, give or take, till we reach Cadian orbit. So get comfortable. Dinner is in the galley in two hours. How you holdin’ up Ferin?” Tor asked.
“Fine, just fine.” Ferin said wiping his brow.
Outside their room, some units were already beginning training. Ferin walked along wall watching the proceedings. Eventually he got bored and left. He wondered around the main corridors of the ship, looking at many various objects and equipment. Near the galley, he ran into Q, and Jonse.
“Hey Ferin, what’s up?” Q said a smile on his face.
“Nothing much. Just looking around.” Ferin replied.
“Theres nothing to see really on this tub. All you do is train, sleep, and eat. While we are on the subject of food, lets head to the galley, I’m starving.” Q said, and then promptly followed his own advice and headed for the galley.
The other two looked at each other and shrugged, then headed after him. The galley was a massive room filled with tables. Not many people were there though and most were just playing card games or such. They headed to the snack area and grabbed some recaf and something called Torim, which was a thick, nutty paste on sandwiches. Ferin found the food very good, especially on his empty stomach. They were quickly joined by Urik, and Red. While Ferin ate, he listened to the stories of the men from their last campaign, their rumors about the future, and what they will do when they get back to Cadia.
The talking lasted till past dinner. The Sergeant had since shown up along with Jack. They all talked happily about returning home, some had families they will see, while others would remain around the port. Ferin just sat, listening to them. He heard of cities that rose for miles into the sky, and that most of the planets surface was covered in industry. He couldn’t imagine such cities in his mind.
Finally about an hour after dinner, the klaxons for lights out rang. They all headed for their bunks, as the servitors cleaned the galley. Ferin sat in his bunk for an hour or two, looking at the floor, thinking of what was to come. Suddenly there was an ear piercing alarm. Men jumped from their bunks and put on anything at hand. Ferin just copied them and followed as they ran out of the door onto the training area where the company commander stood.
“Men!” the commander began as things settled down, “I know you have looked forward to getting home, Emperor knows I am. But we are called upon one last time. We are being redirected to the world of Korash. It is a hive world in the Hiranii sector. There is an invasion of Orks going on there led by a Warboss Khad Grull. They need some reinforcements for a counter attack. We are going to help in the counter attack, so suit up and prepare to exit the warp in 1 hour. It will be a combat landing so dilly dallying. Dismissed.”

“Damn it all!” Jack yelled punching his bunk.
“I know, why us? There are plenty of closer units.” Q said, sitting in his bunk, head in his hands.
“Get over it boys. This is what we are here for. To be called upon when needed. Nothing ever said we would return home.” Sergeant Tor said rather morosely.
Ferin just sat quietly in his bunk with a smile on his face.
“What are you smiling at Fenrisian?” Jack growled.
“Nothin’ just relishing the taste of having you in my boots. Its not exactly the same but its pretty close.” Ferin said
“If you weren’t so right I would pound your face in.” Jack said.
“Settle down. Just get packed and get ready.” Tor said.
“Ready Sarge!” Ferin said bouncing off the bed and walking outside. He held his sniper rifle in his arms.

Chapter 4: Greenskins 101
"Up men to your posts! Don't forget today that you are from old Virginia."
The Valkyrie shook tremendously as it went through the upper atmosphere. Around it were another score of such craft. Fire leapt around its hull as it descended through the atmosphere. Pieces of it clanged and trembled as it bounced and jostled around. As it cleared the atmosphere, it jettisoned the entree hull and inner atmospheric jets fired on and it gained control, speeding off over the thick clouds, descending through them. Moisture collected on the side of the aircraft, and fell off in thin particles of ice, giving the illusion of a comet.
The clouds suddenly broke and a hellish scene was portrayed below. The earth was scared and burned, and a sea of Orks flowed around a hive city. As the Valkyrie descended, flak fire opened up. Black puffs of metal blossomed among the formation as they headed straight for the hive, its massive spires reaching into the clouds. One of the Valkyries took a direct hit and fire erupted on the wing. It shook at the sudden turbulence caused by the broken wing, and explosion. It began to lose altitude, trailing thick black smoke. Suddenly the wing blew off and the craft went out of control, plummeting earthward like a comet. It slammed into the wall of the hive with an explosion.
   The rest of the Valkyries came into the mid level of the hive. The landing pads jutted out of the side, from a massive room, bustling with activity. The enemy flak fire didn’t stop though and the Valkyries came in as a combat landing. They went full speed for the designated landing area and braked at the last minute, pulling the nose up. The engines made thrumming sounds as they strained to stop the vehicle, as it slammed down onto the landing pad. One Valkyrie was hit just before landing in the engines, and slammed into the side of the landing pad, sheering it in half. The cockpit hung on the edge of the landing pad while the back with the troops fell away into the hive below. The rest landed safely and their doors clanged open. Men poured out and into the assembly area quickly. An artillery shell slammed into the wall outside, engulfing an area in fire. The roar of men and machines mingled into an ungodly noise.
   Ferin ran with his squad, sniper in arms, as they went into the safe area. He heard the roar and boom of war machines echoing through the area. Looking back he saw the Valkyries taking off again, one suddenly blossomed into fire on the landing pad. It had taken a direct hit.
“Get in line! Move! Form up for orders!” a man roared out over the newly arrived.
Ferin and his squad got into formation immediately.
“We are about to push a counter attack, we have 3 regiments ready, and are determined to break through and finally break the Orks grasp on this place. Captain Horin! Your company will be conducting Spec. Ops. Get your squads out there, we need them to take out as many leaders as possible before the attack, put the Orks into a state of confusion.”
“Yes sir! Company! Move out!” Horin yelled.
   Ferin and the rest of the company headed out towards the barracks. The men were tense. The sound of war outside was constant. Artillery and small arms echoed through the city, yells and screams came drifting to his ears as well. Then there was the constant sound of Orks. Ferin adjusted his pack and fixed his armor. The company stopped in formation at their assigned area, and listened to Horin.
“Ok, we will be splitting into squads, some will be paired but many will be alone. You will be assigned a target, and you will have 24 hours to take that target out. If you fail, you will either be dead, or you will be punished. You WILL NOT fail. Do I make myself understood?”
“Sir! Yes, sir!” they bellowed as one.
“Sergeants come to see me, I have your targets.” Horin said, holding up a file.

Ferin crouched behind a rubble pile, and sighted on the Ork nob. With a loud crack, the head blossomed into pink and red mist. The snotlings around him went wild. They dove for cover and fired into the air. The rest of the squad moved up along the side of the street, shooting any gretchin standing about. They leap froged from cover to cover as they went down the street. The Orks had managed to breach the wall on the hive and were now seeping into the hive. Ferins squad was in charge of killing a major warboss who managed to get into the city.
Ferin, crouched next to a pillar, bullet ridden and blackened. The rest of the squad stopped on the other side of the street, in front of an alley way. Tor waved him over, and Ferin ran crouching across the street. A few bullets panged and whizzed around him and his squad mates quickly gave suppression fire, their autoguns popping as they fired. The alley was dark, and smelled like Ork. The men moved slowly through it, switching on their mounted lights. The sounds of battle outside echoed down the alley, muffled so it sounded distant. Ferin shouldered his rifle and took out his axe and autopistol.
Suddenly with a roar a Ork threw himself from the darkness into the squad. The fire of the autoguns was deafening and the flashes blinding as they opened fire on the Ork. The fight lasted all of a second and ended with the Ork dead, not inches from Jack, who promptly put a couple more rounds into it.
“Frak that was close!” he said, shaking.
He took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Ok, I’m good, lets get this mission done with.” Jack continued.
   The squad continued along the passage, the darkness casting mysterious shadows everywhere. Then as they rounded a corner they came to a manufactorum door, the red light above it casting a blood red glow around the area. The hair on the back of Ferin’s neck stood up. The Sergeant went warily to the door, seemingly looking in all directions at once. He grabbed the handle and crouched to the side, the rest of the men crouched along side it, and Tor held up three fingers, then two, then one and he threw open the door, another man tossed in a grenade.
   The grenade exploded with a loud clap and smoke and dust spewed out of the door. The squad immediately rushed in, and quickly checked out the room. There was nothing. It seemed to be an entree room into the factory, which was massive. Great steel beams and chains over massive machinery and conveyor belts.
“Ferin, that window up there, get to it and check outside.” Tor said in a whisper.
Ferin looked up and saw the window, it was about 8 feet up on a crosswalk, easily gotten too, and looked out towards the road. He quickly clambered up and ducked under the window. He slowly stood up and looked outside. Directly in front of the building stood the largest Ork had ever seen. It was almost completely covered in steel plates and it was a good foot or two taller than all the other Orks. This was definitely the boss.
He made a signal down to the sergeant that the Ork was right outside. The sergeant signaled back to get the Ork into his scope. Ferin silently slid his sniper rifle through a hole in the window and got the Ork in his crosshairs. The rest of the squad got on the door leading out and as one, opened it and each threw a grenade. 6 explosions went off, clouding the view of the boss. Then Ferin heard a roaring and saw the boss charge out of the cloud of dust. It moved fast for something so big, and the squad nearly didn’t react, when they did it was almost too late. Ferin gave off a wild shot and hit the powered bionic arm square in the power cable. The arm sparked and died. With a roar the Ork tried to charge again, but its heavy arm slowed it down. The second arm flailed around, destroying anything it touched. It impacted with Jack, and Q and sent them flying. Tor ducked under the blow and lashed out with his chainsword, this did nothing but make the Ork angrier.
Ferin put his pack on the ground with his rifle and took his axe in his hands. Running along the walkway he launched himself off, yelling at the top of his lungs, axe gripped in both hands, straight for the Ork. Time seemed to slow down as he flew through the air towards the Ork, which was preoccupied with the rest of the squad. His heart pounded in his ears, as he gritted his teeth, the metallic gleam of the axe head in the light. As he neared the Ork, it turned its head and faced him, giving a mighty roar it brought up its arm.

Chapter 5: The End
"It is well that war is so terrible, else we should grow too fond of it."
   Ferin heard the blood pumping in his ears, the wind whistling as he fell through the air. The sounds of battle ringing and the shouts of his squad mates. Time came back to normal and Ferins axe collided with the tree trunk thick arm of the Ork, lodging itself half way through it. The beast roared in pain and anger, and reflexively flicked its arm, dislodging the axe and Ferin, who then flew into a wall. His armor cracked and a strap snapped.
He picked himself up off the floor, shaking his head. The Ork lifted its massive arm to smash him, but he was too quick for it. He rolled to the side, as the fist came down with a thud, sending up dust and dirt. Ferin launched himself at the Ork, ducking under its back swing; he swung his axe into the back of the Orks leg and rolled forward. Green blood poured out onto the ruined floor. The Ork seemed unphased though as Ferin got up, panting, sweat running down his face, into his eyes and mouth.
The Ork came charging at him again, this time slower. He saw it was definitely getting weaker, but it wasn’t dead. The Ork lifted a sharpened sheet of metal and brought it down. The Fenrisian raised his axe and deflected the blow with the iron haft, the metal ringing. Ferin back swung the axe head into the steel sheet, knocking it to the ground and backswinging again with the haft, catching the Ork in the head.
Spit flew out of the Orks mouth and it grunted, swatting at the human. Its hand connected and Ferin was thrown to the floor, his axe flying off to the side. He reached quickly for his auto-pistol but wasn’t fast enough. The Ork lifted him up by his neck and brought the human to his face. Its breath smelled like sewers as it spoke, blood coming from its mouth and great cut on its green face.
“Any las’ words hummie?” it said with a grin.
Ferin finally worked his auto-pistol free and said, “Yes, don’t blink!”
Ferin thrust the auto-pistol at the Orks eye and fired a burst of rounds into it.
   The Ork immediately dropped him and grabbed its eye in pain, roaring loudly enough to shake the metal girders of the manufactorum. Ferin rolled towards his axe and leapt onto his feet. He sent a burst of 6 shots into the beasts head, gut, and legs. The blood loss finally caught up with it and it fell to the ground, bleeding and breathing hard. Ferin picked up his axe and holstered his pistol. He went up to the Orks head and raised his axe and with a final yell, let the axe fall.

“Yes sir, last target is eliminated.” Sergeant Tor said into the vox.
   Outside the noise changed, intense fire erupted from the hive city as the counter attack began. Artillery could be heard screaming over head from the inside of the manufactorum. The roars of Leman Russ tank cannons and the rapid cracks of small arms echoed through the city.
   Inside the manufactorum, the squad sat, nursing there wounds. They had amazingly, taken no casualties, although a couple were badly wounded. Ferin sat against a girder, his axe haft resting against his shoulder, the head on the ground. His face and armor were covered in Ork blood, and dried blood was running form a cut on his forhead and from his nose.
Sergeant Tor walked from man to man, checking on them. As he came to Ferin, he sat down next to him.
“Well Fenrisian, we can’t call you new blood anymore. You did take down that Warboss.” Tor said with a chuckle.
“I guess so.” Ferin said without changing his position.
“It seems the Emperor has a plan for you. Not any man can take down a warboss like that. Hell, it went through all six of us.’ Tor said, stroking his chin, the stubble was thick from lack of hygienic supplies.
“So it may seem.” Ferin said.
“Well, you’ll probably get a medal no doubt. I’d bet the Honorifica. But that’s just me.” Tor said.
“I don’t know what that is, but ok. When do we leave?” Ferin said, opening his eyes and looking at the Sergeant.
“Your guess is as good as mine. We need to wait here till the counter attack gets this far then join in. After that, who knows?” the sergeant said.
   Ferin leaned his head back against the iron girder, thinking of Fenris. He had been gone from home for two weeks and already been to another planet, and fought the leader of an alien species, and won. He had become accepted into the squad now. He was still in shock of what has happened, it all didn’t seem real to him.
“Ok boys, up and at'em. The offensive is coming through, and we need to be ready to go.” Tor suddenly said.
Ferin got up, putting his axe back on his back, and hefting his sniper rifle. He took out the clip, checked it, and then slammed it back home. The roar of engines was getting closer, and the sounds of small arms and artillery were getting louder. Ferin and the squad crouched down near the door to the street, listening to the fighting outside.
“Ok, listen up. A lot of Orks will probably be getting flushed ahead of the offensive, meaning we may get to fight here shortly. Keep your eyes and ears open, pay attention to your surroundings.” Tor said.
   The men nodded. Ferin thought her heard the Imperial Hymn playing, over the roars of gun fire and Orks. The squad remained around the door, and watched shadows running outside the door. They were definitely Orks. Luckily none tried to get into the factory. The sound of music was getting louder, and the roar of engines closer until finally the hymn was blasting loudly right outside, drowning out everything else.
   Tor threw open the door, and Ferins eyes widened as he came out onto the street next to a monstrous machine. It had treads easily wider than he was tall, and the reached up several stories. The main cannon suddenly roared with a resounding blast, and a great pillar of fire reached out from it. Down the street a massive cloud of dirt, fire, and rock erupted like a volcano. Weapons opened up all over the vehicle, streams of tracers from the side heavy bolters, white hot beams of energy from lascannons, and the roars of several cannons around the main one.
“Men! Up on top! That’s our ride!” Tor yelled over the music blaring from the vehicle.
   They quickly ran along side and hoped onto the ladders. A few men climbed at a time until they were all on top. It seemed to be made to accommodate them as it had steel walls built up on the armor and sandbags placed everywhere. Tor took a position within one of these steel trenches and began to fire away down the street and along side. The rest of them quickly followed, another squad was also on top of the vehicle with them, a Harkoni squad, their autoguns chattering away.
   Ferin took the highest point and set up his rifle. He looked through the scope down the street, and saw several Orks with poles. On which looked to be home made rockets. He quickly lined one up. The rifle bucked as he squeezed the trigger. The vehicles main weapon opened up again, sending a wave of smoke over him, clouding his view. As the smoke passed, he quickly lined up another Ork. The rifle bucked a second time, with a resounding crack. The vehicle was now going through its craters and it was hard for Ferin to line anything up. He put his pack and rifle down in an equipment basket, and took out his autopistol and axe. Several rockets suddenly came screaming through the smoke and impacted with the front armor of the vehicle. Smoke and fire rolled up the armor as the shots were wasted on the thick steel. The metal was dented and marred but nothing seemed to have penetrated the thick plates.
   Ferin looked on as the vehicle rumbled along the street, an unstoppable force. They were nearing the outer wall now and he could see a great gap in it from where the Orks had breached it. The vehicle revved up and began gaining speed.
“Hold on!” Tor yelled.
   The vehicles engines roared loudly as it hit the pile of rubble, easily as high as it. The tracks grated on the loose surface, but it finally gained purchase and began mounting the pile. It went slowly; until finally it reached the top. Its heavy bolters pointed down, blasting away, but Ferin could see nothing but sky. The tank seemed as if it would keep going up. Suddenly with a groan it began to dip, and all at once, Ferin felt weightless as the front fell down onto the other side of the rubble. The front hit and the vehicle bucked its back up, almost throwing Ferin off. He saw one of the Harkonians fall off down the hull of the vehicle and fall off the front, the mans scream wasn’t heard through his rebreather.
Then Ferin saw the sea of green. All of the weapons on the vehicle opened up at once. Fire and smoke poured from the mighty iron beast, and tracers streamed into the enemy. All of the weapons fired as fast as they would. From the sea he saw a dozen or more Orks suddenly fly up, rockets strapped to their backs and onto the front of the vehicle. They began climbing the front to where the men were entrenched. They saw this though and the Guardsmen began opening fire. Several Orks flipped over and down the front of the tank. A few though made it into combat.  Ferin watched this and opened up with his pistol, hitting one in the head. Suddenly the scream of a rocket came to his ears and looked up in time to see a rocket Ork heading straight towards him. He immediately rolled to the side, the Ork landing with a great thud where he had been. It roared and swung its choppa at him, but Ferin was too quick and the blade brought up sparks where the man had been. Ferin jumped up and swung his axe at the Ork who deftly parried the blow and back swung into Ferins stomach, knocking the wind from him. He went down on a knee as he tried to breath. The Ork gave a guttural laugh and lifted its choppa, bringing it down hard onto Ferins head. Ferin lifted his axe though, catching the blade on its haft. Ferin held his axe up over him with both hands, the Ork trying to push the blade down onto him. Suddenly Ferin, let go of one side, letting the blade slide down the haft, as he rolled away. He kicked the Ork in the stomach, knocking it away from him as he stood up, quickly bringing up his pistol he shot three rounds into the Orks stomach and chest, knocking it off the edge of his level on the tank.
He looked down at his squad mates who were finishing off the rest of the Orks who had boarded the vehicle then out at the sea of green. Explosions ripped through the horde of greenskins as more and more tanks and artillery joined the offensive. In a matter of hours, the field was a great blackened, pockmarked wasteland, with thousands of bodies and parts, and hulks of machines rotting in it.

Over head Valkyries screamed by, as men and vehicles formed back up with their respective regiments. As Ferin and his squad looked about, asking about their unit, they found they couldn’t find many who knew of it, or knew where it was. They looked for several hours, hooking up with a couple beaten up squads from their company and another, but they could not find the rest of their regiment.
“Emperors balls, where are they?” Tor spat.
“No idea sarge, it’s like they just left.” Jake said.
“I swear I will kill them if they did, with my bare hands to.” Tor replied.
Ferin suddenly caught sight of the General in charge of the whole offensive.
“Sarge! Its General Yarin. He’ll probably know.” Ferin said.
“He damned well better.” Tor said and strode off to the general. The squad trailed behind him.
“General Yarin! Sir!” Tor said as he got close to the general, snapping of a salute.
“At ease Sergeant. What can I help you with?” Yarin replied.
“Sir, my squad a couple beaten up ones from our unit have been looking and asking about for our regiment for near four hours now. Can you tell us where we are assembling? We are from the 2nd Regiment Cadian.” Tor said.
Yarin’s face suddenly looked very sad.
“Son, your regiments been wiped out. All that’s left is your platoon. You are being attached to the Gregorian 9th.” Yarin said.
Tor stood there, in shock. The rest of the squad looked at each other.
“Sir? What happened?” Tor asked.
“Your regiment took point in the offensive, on the North side. When they got to the wall, the Orks detonated a massive bomb buried in the rubble, killing two companies out right. The rest of the regiment was dazed and disorganized as the Orks counter attacked, wiping all of them out. The only survivors are those of your own company who were out in single squads. I’m sorry Sergeant.” Yarin said, patting Tor on the shoulder before walking off, continuing through the regiments.
Tor shook his head. Then looked back at the squad, grim faced.
“C’mon. We need to get with the Gregorian 9th. They will be expecting us.” He said, and strode off.

Chapter 6: Rising Phoenix
"Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box."
   Artillery screamed through the air as Ferin and company crouched down in their trench. The war had gone bad. Very bad. The Governor of the planet had seriously underestimated the Orks size, and after the offensive of the Imperial Guard at the capital city, the Orks wiped their bloody nose and smashed back with overwhelming force. A new Ork warboss had emerged, this one even more ruthless, bloodthirsty, and smart, Orkily speaking, as the last, which didn’t help the situation at all. Ferin was the last of his squad. The Sergeant was taken out by a choppa, head cleaved off, the heavy weapons pair were taken out by an Ork rocket, and the others died in similar ways. Ferin was all that was left, beat up, bruised, and cut, his uniform in tatters, and his armor hanging in bits.
   The Ork gave a last choking waaagh as his axe fell on its chest. Gritting his teeth, he raised his boltpistol, acquired from a dead officer, and sent a round through the eye of a charging Ork. He was working his way up the trench to the retreat exit, back into the city. Kicking a beast back down into the mud with a boot, he heard Ork fighta-bomas in the distance. Looking up he saw them screaming in, seeing flashes on the wings he dove to the mud, tracers zipping and stitching the air above him, digging into the dirt wall of the trenches. Suddenly screams came from the other direction, fast, and the sounds of autocannons and heavy bolter fire came to his ears. With a loud boom, he raised his head to see several Imperial fighters to go flying headlong into the Ork fighters, destroying one with gunfire.
   Ferin wasted no time. Leaping to his feet, he jogged towards the exit area of the trench, the bloody mud sucking at his boots, as he jumped over bodies and weapons. Gun shots, and explosion could be heard throughout the area, several rounds zipping over his head. The exit area was piled with bodies, mostly Orks though thankfully, and several guard sat their holding the exit. He nodded to a man he knew as he ran past. Suddenly a quite scream could be heard through the air, getting louder, Ferin turned to warn the men who were engaged with several Orks, but he was too late. The bomb slammed into the ground just ahead, engulfing them in fire, and launching them into the air, landing as charred skeletons in front of him. Ferin just shook his head and turned, running quickly. This was all to familiar by now.
   The street was pockmarked with craters, and burned wreckage. Bodies lay sprawled in the street, and smoke curled up into the sky. The skeletons of buildings rising towards the heavens jaggedly. The sounds of artillery and gunfire echoed through the city as Ferin came up to several squads from the company, none of them at full strength. They were gathering around a wrecked tank near the company leader. Ferin didn’t pay much attention to the man, mainly because Ferin would be leaving the company anyways, he didn’t see the point.
“Ok, quick rest, then we head for the hangers, they are taking us off this blasted planet.” The Lieutenant said.
   Ferin sat down against the crumbled wall of a nearby building and took a drink from his canteen. The sun was setting, and made the sky look on fire. It was quite beautiful really, nothing like hes seen on Fenris, the sun on this planet was more reddish than the yellow he was used to. The cries of Orks, and gunfire in the distance though ruined the moment. The company began walking again a few minutes later, so Ferin scooped up his helmet and shouldered his axe. He had lost his backpack a long time ago, so he just made due with whatever he could find.
   The company walked in a loose mob toward the center of the city, up the ramps and roads that lead up the hive. Artillery fire sometimes landed near them, making them jump for cover, but in the whole, they didn’t meet any resistance or have any problems. All of the men looked defeated. Some had parts of their bodies missing; some looked distance, and were lost to the men around them. Ferin was definitely the youngest among them. Most of the young soldiers were killed in the fighting; only leaving the veterans. Fresh reinforcements never lasted long. Filled with zeal and fervor for the Emperor they would sometimes charge the Orks, thinking the beasts pathetic against the will of the Emperor, only to be shown how wrong they were when the Orks crushed and maimed them. Commissars were taken out from grot snipers, the bright colors and stiff-backed officers were easy targets. The officers who were left quickly tore off their colors, and bright heraldry as the battle went, learning that they made good targets, and donned Guardsman uniforms.

   Suddenly Ferin thought he heard something, a thrumming, or constant roaring. He noticed it had been there for sometime, and he just hadn’t registered it. As he began looking around, he noticed the rest of the company was hearing it to. The men started murmering, talking in whispers, as they asked if anyone knew what that was. They were in a tunnel in the hive, heading to the hanger level as the thrumming began. It was gaining in volume though and the men were beginning to fear it was some new Ork weapon. They quickly began running for the opening, moving quickly, but keeping their surroundings in check. You know a veteran when he can retreat, yet keep a situational awareness. When finally they broke out of the tunnel, Ferin looked over the city and his eyes grew wide in awe. A massive starship, silver with the massive heads of a twin headed eagle, arching out over the prow, and cathedral architecture on it. Rockets from the ground, shot from the Orks, exploded uselessly on its shields. The ship was massive, bigger than the city; on the side was a massive “I” and Ferin knew instantly who the ship belonged to. He had heard stories, and legends, myths, and rumors of the Imperial Inquisition, and how deadly they are. Now they were here and Ferin feared that this world is about to end. Suddenly a great wail broke out from the ship, and Ferin fell to the ground, covering his ears.
“This is Inquisitor Lord Toleminus of our most Holy Inquisition.” A great voice boomed out from the ship.
“Due to the failure of Imperial forces upon this planet, it has been deemed necessary to invoke the order of Exterminatus upon this world to stop the rising xenos threat. The Imperial forces still upon the planet are being executed for their failure to hold one of the Emperors holy worlds. This is your judgment! Have a nice day.”
“Oh ****!” the company Lieutenant yelled.
“Men! Up, hurry to the hanger! Let’s move it damn it!”
   Ferin didn’t need to be told twice. He was on his feet, gripping his axe as he ran as if his feet had wings towards the hanger doors. His helmet was left on the street near the tunnel as he ran. The thrumming of from the ship was getting louder as he ran, shaking the very hive. Ferin leapt over a defense barrier set up at the gate to the hanger. The Valkyries were beginning to lift off as the company entered. The roar from their jets seeming almost a whisper compared to the massive ship outside the hive. Several though were still sitting on their landing pads. Suddenly a Valkyries exploded as men ran to a transport, as a Ork rocket hit it. The fire and shrapnel engulfed the men, shredding and burning them. Ferin ran for a lone Valkyrie sitting in the hanger. Jumping in he found it pilotless.
“Damn it.” Ferin said as several others from the company followed.
“Ferin! Damn it this thing was being repaired!” one of the men said.
   Ferin looked out the pilot’s window and saw the last of the Valkyries closing its hatches. About 5 stood on the platform prepping for launch. Ferin made a decision and sat down in the pilot’s seat, and began flipping the switches he saw the other pilots had flipped on his previous flights. The aircraft trembled as the engines awoke, and the rumbling from them came to his ears.
“Ferin, what the hell you doing man? Do you even know how to fly this thing?! Youll get us-“ The man stopped as the thrumming from the Inquisitor ship reached its peak, and suddenly a lance of fire shot from its hull into the planets surface. A great ring of fire radiated out from it, and the ship shook violently as a shock wave hit it.
“Dead, yes, I know but we are low on options here, so shut the hell up and sit down!” Ferin yelled.
   With that he sent power to the engines and the thing rocked and wobbled as it gained air. He threw the acceleration lever to full and was thrown into his seat as the engines roared and threw it out of the hanger. The ship was quickly followed by the other five, and the ring of fire which was quickly gaining. The aircraft rocked and bucked and as if it was driving on the pockmarked streets below. Ferin strained to hold the stick straight against the acceleration. From behind a valkyrie was engulfed into the fire.
“****! Were gonna die!” someone yelled from the back.
   Ferin gritted his teeth, and began pulling the lever back, trying to gain some altitude. Finally a blinking light caught his attention. Stabilizers. What did that mean? Were these stabilizers not stabilizing? Then he saw a switch flipped to off, and the light blinking above it. Oh. He threw the switch and the ship instantly responded to him. He pulled the stick back and the ship began gaining altitude. Grinning he let out a yelp as he saw the ring of fire emanate out from under him.
“Ya! We got it!” he yelled, laughing. From the back more yelling and cheering joined his.
   As the craft gained altitude, the engines suddenly shut off, and the craft began falling back. The cheering changed to yells of alarm, but suddenly another set of engines cut on and propelled the craft into space around the planet. Ferin looked out the pilot’s window and gaped at the scene below him. Ships were placed around the planet at different intervals, red fire radiating out from them. It was horrifying, and beautiful at the same time. He flipped the engines switch and they shut down. The Valkyrie floated out into space, towards the fleet of ships off planet. Hundreds of Imperial vessels sat out in space above the planet, among the wreckage of Ork hulks. Ferin used the ships boosters to maneuver through the wreckage. The voices of the men in the back drifted up to him. He found that only one of the men was from his own company. The rest were mixed.
   Suddenly lights flooded the ****pit, startling Ferin from his thinking. The radio cracked and a voice came through.
“Valkyrie I-234, come in, this is patrol 4B. State your cargo and identification or be blown up.”
“Well, they made themselves bluntly clear.” Ferin grumbled. The men from the back came up and looked out the ****pit window at the fighter and its two wing mates.
“Umm…this is Valkyrie somethinorother. I don’t know the ID and we are soldiers from planet, we got out before the Inquisitor vessel arrived.” Ferin replied back, after finding the voxcomm.
“Valkyrie I-234, we need a identification code. If you cannot provide one we will blow you up.”
“****.” Ferin said, slumping into the seat.

Chapter 7: Cadia
“You know…I am pretty damned bored…” – The Emperor after 10,000 years on the Golden Throne.

“Patrol 4B, this is Imperial Guard General Kalishnikov of the Valhallen 41st Rifles. Escort us to the nearest command vessel if you please. My identification code is IG-3453f67.” One of the men behind Ferin suddenly said.
“The hell? Since when?” Ferin asked startled, turning around to look at the Valhallen. He looked no different than any other Valhallen.
“Yes sir! Right away! Valkyrie I-234, you will follow us in tight formation.”
“Sure...why not…” Ferin said and switched on the engines.
   Taking the stick he followed the fighters. The Valkyrie wobbled, as Ferin got used to space flight. He even made it fly sideways for a bit on accident. Finaly after gripping the stick so hard, his knuckles had turned white they came to the Imperial Battleship Xenosbane. Now Ferin met some problems. Flying the thing was hard enough for him, but landing it was beyond what he was prepared to do.
“What the blazes am I supposed to do? I can’t land this thing!” he yelled as he saw the bay door open.
The Valhallen chuckled.
“Whats so funny? Umm…sir.” He said.
The Valhallen didn’t reply, instead the Valkyrie shook and began going towards the landing bay.
“Oh…they can control us from there.” Ferin said and sat back in the seat.

   The Valkyries door opened with a hiss, and a clang as it hit the floor. In the landing bay outside the door, several Generals waited with the Captain of the ship. General Kalishnikov strode down the ramp and clasped hands with them, Ferin right behind him, his axe over his shoulder.
   Everyone from that war knew Kalishnikov. He was a renowned Valhallen General for his heroics, knowledge, and love of his men. He led the Valhallens on point during the push from the capital, and held the gate till the last minute against massive numbers and even more terrible war machines than the rest of the city saw. Now, according to rumor, it is only him that is left, fighting till he was the last one.
   Now Ferin was responsible for saving the life of this renowned general. He was now wondering what he might get for it. This guy was influential, and could probably get him back home. Ferin suddenly came back to reality when he heard the general talking about him.
“This young soldier Ferin is a fine Guardsman. I want his records and history, and I would like to recommend this man for a medal.” Kalishnikov said.
“Yes General, my staff will pull his files down as quick as they can. I am pretty amazed that a man this young was able to fly a Valkyrie out of the city. He is quite the handy soldier.” One of the men said, he looked like the captain.
“Ferin!” Kalishnikov said.
Ferin stood to attention at the bark of his name, the head of his axe on the landing bay floor.
“Get to your barracks and get a shower. Meet me in my office at 1830.”
“Yes sir!” Ferin said, and promptly left the hanger bay. He was several minutes from the hanger before he realized, he had no idea where he was going.
“Soldier! Barracks are a hallway back, you missed it!” a sailor suddenly said.
“Ah, thanks!”
   Ferin walked briskly, axe on shoulder down the halls. He caught quite a few looks, not all of them for the axe alone. He looked like the living dead. His face was cut, and dirty, sweat streaked, and his armor was chipped, dented, and falling apart. He was missing a shoulder pad, and his chest plate had a gaping hole in it, where the last man who owned it took a slugga bolt to the chest. His pants were torn, and dirty from mud and rocks, and his boots were worn to nothing. He had a large, catachan knife sheathed on his lower leg. The Catachan had good weapons; he appreciated their martial prowess and abilities, and held them in fairly high esteem.
   As he walked into the barracks, he saw men training, working out, or sitting on break. Many of them stared when he arrived, but he had gotten pretty used to it. He noticed then a sergeant walking over to him. He didn’t bother getting to attention, he didn’t really care, so he just turned and faced the man.
“Where’s your unit boy?” the sergeant said roughly.
“Dead sarge. Why?” Ferin replied.
“Never mind then, your with us. Whats your name, rank, and purpose?”
“Private Halen Ferin, scout-sniper. I was sent her by General Kalishnikov to get cleaned up. He is expecting me at 1830 sarge.” Ferin said.
“Very well, you’re in bunk 10 with Geofries, and Thompsons. See the quartermaster first though and get yourself some new equipment.”
“Aye sarge, on my way.” Ferin said, and strode off towards the Quartermasters bunks.
   Entering the quartermasters was always the same experience. Walls of equipment, and that same militaristic smell of uniforms and weapons. The man sat behind the counter, reading the Imperial Guardsmens Uplifting Primer. As Ferin entered the man looked up and then back down to the book, indifference dripping from his expression. His voice came out in a bored tone as he put the page marker down in the book.
“Tell me what you need, your rank, your purpose, and your size.” The man said.
“Private Halen Ferin, scout-sniper.” Ferin said.
“Here you go; your uniform, cameoline cloak, and new armor. They should fit. If not, here’s a belt. Boots…”the man pulled down a pair of shiny black new boots, “sniper rifle and some rounds…”He turned to a rack of weapons and pulled down a scoped, long auto-rifle, and several clips of ammo, “a backpack and basic gear…” he pulled down a standard olive drab backpack and packed it with the sleeping gear, canteens, GPS, socks, and a mirade of other things, scout-snipers are privileged to, “and that should be it. Have fun.”
   The man returned to sitting and reading his book, never changing the tone of his voice. Ferin left and headed to his bunk, dropping the gear down on the bed, he stripped, took a shower, which after weeks in the mud and rubble felt like it was in a resort. He got out, and dressed quickly. It felt good having fresh clean clothing, and undamaged armor. Donning his cameoline cloak, he slung his axe over his back, lashed his knife to his leg sheath, took one of his bunk mates bolt pistol, putting it in a holster on his belt, and finally picking up his rifle, walked out of the bunk room. He only had some 30 minutes left so he walked quickly to the main hall. This artery of the ship was packed with sailors, soldiers and vehicles. Ferin hoped on a transport quickly before it started going, and held onto the side. It was the quickest way of going long distances on ships this size, as he learned from his last ride.
   As the transport neared the officer’s quarter, he leapt off. This area had less people walking the halls, and more soldiers standing at attention. He walked along the hallway, sniper rifle resting casually in his arms. He didn’t realize how much Kalishnikov was held in such high esteem until he had been walking for 10 minutes and was well into the single, resort suites. Finally, he came to his door, two Valhallen elite stormtroopers standing guard.
“Stop. State your business.” One of them said.
“General Kalishnikov is expecting me, I am Private Halen Ferin.” He said.
“Very well, we know this. Leave your weapons here with us.”
Ferin raised an eyebrow but shrugged. He put his rifle against the wall, unslung his axe, and set that next to the rifle, then he reached down and unsheathed his catachan knife, and took out his bayonet and put those against the wall, then unholstered his pistol and set that against this knives. The stormtroopers just looked down then back at him.
“You know, the war is over right?” one of them asked.
Ferin just shrugged and walked on into the room.
   The room was definitely first class. It had engraved wood and gold gilding on the walls. Pictures of famous Imperial Guardsmen lined the walls, and a great gold Aquila sat on the wall behind a hand carved dark wood desk, over a window. The window was large, and looked out into space. The red and orange of the burning planet below could be seen, along with some of the fleet’s ships. Suddenly a door opened on the side of the office and General Kalishnikov strode in.
“Private Ferin! Good to see you lad.” He said with a grin.
Ferin immediately stood at attention.
“Bah! Boy stop that, you saved my life, I think we can both just be men here for now, you’re owed at least that.” The General said.
Ferin relaxed.
“I was looking at your file Mr. Ferin, and quite an interesting read it is. Seems you have not even been in the Imperial Guard for two months, but have single-handedly defeated an Ork warboss, and was in one of the companies taking point during the Offensive of Hive Gashen, and then flew a damaged Valkyrie off the world, during an Inquisitorial exterminatus. Quite impressive. And before all this you were a tribesman of Fenris. The unstable archipelago world of the Space Wolves.” The General said.
He walked over to a small counter and took a bottle of amber colored fluid out from under it and poured it into a glass. Taking a sip he continued.
“Tell me, what are your thoughts of all this? Your record states you have been rather difficult at points and down right disobedient in many. You were obviously taken with force from the world, we couldn’t have you going back to your tribe and talking about us.”
“Well sir,” Ferin began, “I rather miss my home. I was not able to say goodbye, I had only just begun thinking of living on my own, and taking over my fathers trade. I was happy, we were living in a safe village, and then all of a sudden, I am swept up on some journey, never to return home. One week, I was confident of my safety, my life, and that the only thing I had to worry about were the kraken in the sea and the deep winter. Now I am going head to head with giant green beasts that care nothing of death, and whose weapons are often times bigger than I. What do you think I am thinking?” Ferin said, in slight agitation.
The General just chuckled.
“Ferin my boy. Like it or not, your not the only special case. We have had plenty. What you must do is get used to this life. This is how you’re going to live for a very long time. That axe you have. It is made of Fenrisian ore, your tribe makes Fenrisian steel do they not?”
“Yes sir, I think that is what it’s called, its hard stuff to craft, and make products from, usually its only used in weapons for war chiefs. My father made me this axe when I reached adult hood.” Ferin said, feeling naked all of a sudden without his axe.
“That is interesting. You are quite talented with it. Ferin let me tell you something. You will probably never see your home again. Almost all Guardsmen never do. This is why each always has something, a memento of some sort.” The General pulled out a small engraved, ornate, but obviously usable pistol.
“This, my friend, is mine. It was passed down from generation to generation in my family. All of us generals. For near 10 generations now. It is said in our family that a shot from this was actually thrown at Horus himself, but I doubt that. I keep this close to me at all times, it connects me to what I am fighting for, and to who I am. When I settle down on some planet out there, I will give this to my son. In a galaxy where at every turn, something whishes to kill you, having a sturdy weapon, and firm resolve can save your life. Remember that, and remember what you fight for. Your planet has been attacked several times. Will next time be the last if you decide to stop fighting?”
The General leaned back on his desk, taking a sip of the drink again, and looking out the window at the planet.
“Does that happen a lot?” Ferin asked, looking at the burning world as well.
“Not a lot thankfully, but it does happen.” The General said in a morose tone.
The two men stood their looking at the world for several moments in silence, before the general sat down.
“Remember what I said Ferin. And remember, we fight to protect those who are defensless. This is not the life we wished for ourselves, but we are here, and we must live this life to the fullest we can, and sometimes die for it. We are the Imperial Guard. The Hammer of the Emperor, and the saviors of the citizens. Remember that. You are free to go.” The General said, taking a seat in his chair at the desk. As Ferin left, the General turned to look out the window, and Ferin thought he saw the grim face change to a more mournful, saddened expression.
   Ferin collected his weapons and hitched a ride back to the barracks. The activity in the ship was winding down as dinner was being served in the mess. He wasn’t hungery though so he just headed back to his bunk room, and put his equipment down under his bed. One of his bunk mates there, he hadn’t met either of them yet, but Ferin now saw why there was only two. The man was a giant. Almost two feet taller than Ferin, he looked like a bull. When the man, or thing turned around, he gave a toothy grin and waved. The cheerfulness didn’t really suit him much.
“Well ‘ello there new roommate. ‘ow you?” it said, in a deep, but cheerfull voice.
Ferin blinked.
“Don’t be scared of Grog there mate.” A voice said from behind.
Looking behind him, Ferin saw a wiry man in the doorway. He wore a bush hat, and only had on a pair of pants, his ID tags jangled when he walked over and offered a hand to Ferin.
“Names Thompson, Ferin I assume?” Thompson said.
“Yes, Halen Ferin. This is Grog? I though his name was….” Ferin began, shaking the mans hand.
“Geofries, I know, but everyone calls him Grog, he’s an Ogryn from the world of Uran IV. A big softy really, wouldn’t hurt a fly….unless of course that fly wasn’t human.” Thompson said with a grin at Grog.
Grog gave a deep chuckle.
“Thompson be makin’ thin’s up ag’in. I a scary, ‘orrible og’yn at eat babies.” The big creature said with another deep chuckle.
Ferin raised an eyebrow, which Thompson laughed at.
“You’ll get used to us boy, after all it is a three week warp trip back to Cadia.”

Chapter 8: Visions of the Past
"Those who stand for nothing fall for anything."

Cadia. This fortress world was what Ferin had heard stories about, great wars, and battles fought on its soil. Now, looking down at it from the window of a Valkyrie transport, he saw that the legends really held truth. In space, hundreds of gun stations and a massive fleet of warships stood as silent sentinel. The world was not the usual green, blue, and white. It was grey and blue. He saw great spires rise up off the world, Kasyrs they were called. He saw great inner-atmosphere warships traveling on the planets surface.
Then looking up, into space, he saw the great red, swirling vortex, the gateway to the place that others had said was called the warp, or the immaterium, a place of Chaos, where demons live, and mad men reside, heretics, witches, sorcerers, and possessed. They called it the Eye of Terror, and it is from this that legions of evil pour forth every so often, and this small fortress world was the first line of defense.
The Valkyrie jerked and began to rattle and shake as it hit the atmosphere of the planet, fire blooming across its hull. Outside the window another Valkyrie could be seen, looking like a comet, fire along its hull. The metal creaked and groaned as the Valkyrie fell through the atmosphere, until after a couple minutes it broke through, freefalling for several seconds before the atmospheric engines cut on and Ferin was pushed to the side as the transport flew off across the planets surface. Turbulence shook the aircraft every now and then. For most of the flight though, the men in the compartment sat quietly, looking out the window or thinking. These men had all lost their units, or been split off permanently. Now they were here to be reassigned.
A spaceport was approaching fast, as the Valkyrie headed straight for it. It had towers and low buildings sprawling on it, and several landers on landing pads. On the far side, he could see an amphibious cruiser docked, small aircraft flying around it, like gnats against a great beast. The transport began to descend towards a small landing pad, jutting from one of the squat areas of the main structure, the engines thrumming loudly as it slowed its descent, stopping in the air for a second before it fell to the landing pad with a thump. Ferin unhooked himself from the restraining straps and grabbed up his axe and sniper rifle from the weapons rack that had descended from the ceiling of the transport and stood up, bending over so as not to hit his head. With a hiss and clank of the restraining bolts letting go of the door, it opened and Ferin walked out onto the small landing pad, overlooking the spaceport. Hundreds of small lighter craft flew through the air around the spaceport, and the thrumming of engines was constant in the air. Turning he headed down the stairs from the platform and into the spaceport complex. An automated voice was talking about departures and arrivals, both civilian and military. The hallways were crowded with people, some in uniforms, and others in civilian utilities. The buzzing of voices was loud, as Ferin walked down the hallway, his feet thumping on the smooth steel floor. The complex looked built to be defensible. Gun ports, and firing towers seemed to sprout from the hallway to the wall outside the complex. The hallways were built with concrete and steel, and the spaceport seemed more like a fortress than a civilian complex. He imagined it was like this for much of the planet. Under constant threat of attack, these kinds of things were necessary.
Ferin was lost here though. As he walked, his eye kept wondering, and he kept becoming more and more amazed with everything he saw. As he passed a window he took a look outside, and saw a Valkyrie lifting off of its landing platform, its thrusters making a wave of smoke and dirt fly out around it as it gained altitude, until it finally flew off with a burst of fire from its engines. Ahead of him he noticed a fork in the hallway, and he realized that he really wasn’t walking anywhere in general, and he had no idea where he needed to go. All he was told was that he was being sent to a new unit.
“Hey! Ferin!” a voice he recognized yelled from behind him.
“Git ‘ut o’mez way!” A deeper voice said.
“Ow! You big lughead, watch where your stepping!” Thompson said.
“Mez sor’y.” Grog said.
“Never mind mate, just watch dem clogs. Hey Ferin, we are going into the 41st Rifles, what about you?” Thompson asked.
“I have no idea. I am actually somewhat lost. Here I thought that starships were hard to navigate. This place could fit all of the tribes from Fenris, and they would never see each other.” Ferin said looking around. He was getting a couple looks because of his axe.
“Well, didn’t you know that they posted up a roster of all of us and our unit designations? It was just off Landing Platform 345. Come with us, well show you.” Thompson said.
“Sure. Just try to get through that crowd.” Ferin said pointing at the crowd in the hall way which was beginning to get tighter.
“Mez get us froo! Y’uz jus’ follo’ Grog!” the ogryn said with a big green and went pushing and shoving his way through the hall. The sounds of people’s insults and exclamations of outrage could be heard as Thompson, and Ferin followed the massive, grinning ogryn.
   It didn’t take long to reach the roster. It was posted up on a wall and was fairly large. Hundreds of names were written in columns on it with rank, purpose and unit. Ferin looked along the list till he came to his name.
Ferin, Halen-Private-scout/sniper-5th Regiment, 2nd Battalion, 1st Company(512th Company).
“What the bloody hell is the 512th Company?” Thompson asked from behind.
“A new company. Supposed to be a basic company. A bunch of young bloods from what I hear. That little barbarian will fit right in!” a man said from behind Thompson.
“Well, this young barbarian saved a Generals ass.” Ferin said, looking at the man.
“Yea, because of cheap, dumb, luck. I hear tell you are the last of your unit, as in the very last. Everyone else at least still has some of their squad. What you do, young blood? Hide under a rock while the others got wasted? You crawl out and call-“ the man didn’t finish because of Ferins fist being planted on his face.
   Ferin had his jaw locked as fury burned in his eyes. The man rubbed his jaw and grinned at Ferin. He was a tall, broad man with many scars, obviously a veteran.
“Oh, now it’s on young blood.” The man said, balling his fists tightly, they were about twice the size of Ferin’s.
“Break it up!” the yells of the MPs broke through the crowd.
The veteran shook his head as he turned and walked into the crowd.
   Ferin was grabbed and pulled through the throng of people almost immediately by an MP and shoved into an open area in the halls. The MP then went back to make sure there was no more fighting. Halen adjusted his rifle over his shoulder and head down the hall, following the signs to the transport terminal he needed to go to get to his barracks. It was as if he knew and always knew how to read and understand the signs. He shook his head. He knew for sure he never did, it was from the learning machine they used on him.
   The terminal was packed with people. It seemed to be only a roof and a lot of landing spots on top of the main complex. He made his way quickly over to one of the shuttles that were to go to Kasyr Falacia, where the company was to be based. The shuttle was a simple lighter, merely a stripped down, cheap valkyrie converted to hold more people and have bigger atmospheric engines. It really was an ugly vehicle, burn marks where the engines were and weather beaten exterior. It looked as if it would break apart if someone blew on it. Ferin just sighed and strode up the ramp, if he was going to die, then he was going to die.
   The lighter didn’t quite break up as it took off, but it was very bumpy. Ferin sat across from a couple and their child. This was the first Ferin had seen of Imperial citizens, alive at least. They wore drab grey jumpsuits, along with the toddler, a small embroidered aquilla sewn onto the right arm, and chest. They seemed happy, the woman was laughing at something, and the child was playing with an odd toy. Ferin just watched them until the husband looked over and saw his staring. Ferin looked away out the window at the cityscape passing below. It was all grey and black, smoke, and steam from exhaust. Vehicles and aircraft zipped around bellow, like small bugs.
“Hello brother.”
Ferins eyes grew wide as he whipped around in his seat to see his brother Koran sitting there dressed in the traditional tribes warrior garb.

Chapter 9: A New Beginning
"We often give our enemies the means to our own destruction."

“Koran?!” Ferin exclaimed.
“Indeed. You look to be doing well. The village had your funeral the other day.” Koran said, looking around the transport.
“I’m dead?” Ferin asked, still a bit in shock at seeing his brother here.
“Well obviously not. But the tribe is taking it as your death. Mom and dad are quite upset. But I am getting off topic here. Your destiny lies with this new unit you are going to, Ferin. Have faith in the commander, and the unit. You will help in something far bigger than a couple of worlds. Good luck brother, I have faith in your abilities. We will meet again in the future. Of that you can be certain.” Koran said.
“Wait! Hold up!” Ferin yelled as Koran stood up and walked down the isle to the head of the ship.
Thump!
   Ferin jerked awake as the transport touched down on the landing pad. Rain was pouring down outside, and it was dark. Night had fallen, and with it a storm. Ferin got up from his seat and shouldered his rifle. Adjusting his cloak and bringing up the hood, he walked down the aircraft and out onto the landing pad. The wind was howling, and the rain was coming down in sheets. He gripped his cloak around him tightly and made his way to the main building, the lights of it shining to show its location.
Entering, he slammed the door shut, and shook his cloak.
“You the one called Halen Ferin?” a man said.
Ferin looked up to see a lieutenant standing with several other men. He came to attention and saluted.
“Aye sir. I’m Ferin.” He replied.
“Good, I am Lieutenant Fargo of 1st Platoon, this is your new sergeant, Sergeant Roland. Welcome to the 512th Company.” Fargo said.
“Thank you sir.”
“Just follow us, we will take you to base.”
   Ferin followed the men outside, back into the rain. They boarded a run down, disheveled bus, an ancient contraption that used fossil feul, and rode for about fifteen minutes before it came to a creaking stop outside a small barracks building. Ferin could not see much more than a silhouette through the rain, but it didn’t seem impeding, more like an apartment complex. There it is again, an  implanted memory. His mind wandered back to his discussion with his brother. Had it just been a dream? It could have been, how could his brother be there from thousands of light-years away?
   The inside of the building was concrete and steel. It seemed to be a trend on this planet. The room just inside the door held a small amount of desks, tables and chairs, obviously a meeting area. It was small, and smelled of recaff. Several pictures of Imperial Guardsmen, battles, and places adorned the walls, and two rows of lights on the ceiling gave a dull glow to the room. Walking through this area, the small group went through another door and up a flight of stairs. They came out on a covered walkway, the wind was howling along it. Ferin didn’t bother keeping the cloak closed, as it was only wind. Doors sat every several yards, just plain, brown painted steel, set into the concrete wall. A couple machines dotted the walk way, buttons along one side and a slot at the bottom. His implanted memory didn’t jump up on this fact, so he decided to ask what those were later. He figured it was some type of automated defenses. The small group finally stopped in front of a door. The Lieutenant knocked and waited. With a click and creak the door opened to view a shirtless Guardsman, ID tags hanging from his neck. He looked tired as he wiped his eyes, his short hair in a mess.
“Yes sir? What’s the problem?” the man asked, yawning afterwards.
“No problem Clement, you just have a new room mate here, he will be joining your squad. We will give more details tomorrow; I doubt you want to be kept from your game any longer.” The Lieutenant said with a small grin.
The mans expression changed instantly from tired to chuckling.
“Sir, how you always see passed me will be a mystery until my death. Ok, c’mon new guy, inside, your letting the cold in. Hey! LT, we are almost done if you want to be dealed in next? I know I got some money to make back from our last game.”
“No, Clement, unlike you, I need my sleep. It’s been a long day of paper work. Good night.”
“Yes sir, g’night. See you at assembly tomorrow morning sir.” Clement said.
   The door shut behind Ferin and he turned to view the group. There was about four of them in total, one had a cigar, a couple had drinks. Cards lay across the small table. The room was somewhat in a mess. Two bunk beds lined both sides of room, and at each end of them was a large cupboard. Lasguns stood, leaning against the wall near the door, and a small door was open in the back corner to reveal a metal sink, toilet, and shower.
“Just put your stuff on table near the door for now, we will get you set after a couple games.” Clement said.
Ferin unslung his sniper rifle, and laid it next to the door, as he unslung his axe, one of the men whistled.
“Hooboy. That thing seriously yours young blood? Damn. What you loot that thing off of? Can ya use it?”
“Yes, and it was forged by my father when I reached adulthood. It is a sacred item of mine, and if it is ever found missing, I will hunt the man down, cut open his stomach, and hang him by his own intestines.” Ferin said seriously.
The men at the table looked at him, blank faced.
Ferin began laughing.
“You know, you four are easy to play with.” Ferin said with an impish grin.
The men looked at each other and then he saw understanding dawn on their faces, and they began laughing as well.
“I like you young blood! You play cards?” Clement asked.
“Don’t know how.” Ferin said.
“Well, we will show you on the next game.” He said.
Ferin continued putting his weapons on the table. He had since acquired another two bayonets. He found them to be one of the handiest weapons, easily thrown, and good for just about anything out of combat.
“Damn young blood, you armed to the teeth. There ain’t no war you know.” One of the men said.
“I liked to be prepared.” Ferin said with a grin as he sat down at the table.
   Ferin watched the game end, and learned how to play. The men sat around the table talking, drinking, and smoking for about four rounds, sharing stories. All the men have been in the company no longer than a week, each transferred from a separate unit here. They have seen and spoke with the commander, a Sergeant Boris Grevane, a native of Cadia, and showed promise. They talked about how a sergeant could become a company commander; none of them could figure it out. They decided to compromise that he had rich family who got him the position.
   Finally, with smoke heavy in the air, a jug of rum depleted, two of the men left to head for their bunks. Clement and one other man, Leonis, stayed, as this was their room. Ferin was given a bottom bunk, and they helped show him how to stow his equipment, and then they all just went to bed. He was tired from the days travels, more so than he had thought, because the minute he hit the pillow he was out.
   Ferin awoke the next morning to loud, annoying dings. Leaping out of bed, grabbing his axe from the top of the bunk where he had stowed it the other night, he stood in a battle ready stance in the middle of the room, his heart pounding. It took him a few seconds to realize, that he was perfectly safe. He relaxed, and stood up straight, getting somewhat red.
“I see your up, don’t worry, the Dingdongs cant break through the door, the room is secure.” Leonis said from the rest room, with a grin.
   Ferin placed the axe down next to the bed and got his uniform on. It was simple. His field uniform was his combat uniform here on Cadia. He put on his shirt, jacket, tightened down his armor, and threw his cloak over his shoulders, the cameoline material shimmering as it tried to decide what it would look like. He left his knives except for his Catachan knife, in his weapons drawer. Clement and Leonis waited at the door as Ferin slung his axe over his back and head out the room with the others.
   Outside, things were bustling. Men were scrambling around as they prepared for morning assembly. Morning assembly was held on the parade grounds in between the two apartment blocks that made up the barracks. It was a simple flat, dirt area with a raised platform at the front. The three went down the flight of stairs and out onto the parade ground. As he stepped out onto the dirt, he heard a shouting from his left.
“Heeeey!” three men chorused.
Looking to his left he saw the massive form of a Leman Russ tank, and on the track guards, three men sat, each holding a large cup of recaff, grinning at him.
“Hey!”
“Welcome-“
“-young blood!”
“Colins, Hidiro, and Guns.” Clement said, pointing each man out. “The three worst behaved men in this unit, but ironically enough, have the biggest guns.”
“Oh c’mon Clement.” Colins said.
“Don’t get jealous.” Hidiro said.
“We all-“ Guns said.
“-have our strengths!” the three chorused again.
“Ours is just the biggest strength.” Guns then added.
“C’mon Ferin. Almost time for assembly.” Clement said, shaking his head.
   The parade field was beginning to fill up as they took their positions. Ferin, Clement, and Leonis had positions on the second row. The sergeant stood at the end with a gruff expression, hands clasped behind his back, chin up. Ferin looked around the area at the other men, nearly all of them young looking. There were very few veterans in the unit. A couple of Guardsmen, with even less time in the Guard then he, just stared at the axe on Ferins back. Ferin was about to say something to Clement when someone suddenly yelled the company to attention. Boots clicked, and ground against dirt as the company came to attention, backs straight, faces forward. The grounds suddenly grew very quite. He could hear the sounds of the city around the barracks. The wind blew his cloak lightly, making it shimmer.
   Then the sounds of dirt and rocks crunching came to his ears. He kept his face forwards as the steps came down the center of the field. The crunching of boots became more distinct and Ferin reasoned there was about seven or eight men. Finally they passed the row and Ferin saw who they were. It was a retinue guard of four, plus, an obviously high ranking official, the company commander, and as he looked over the group, his blood ran cold on the last man. The man wore a blood red spotless coat, and peaked cap, the gold embroidered epaulets shimmered in the sun. It was a commissar. Ferin hated commissars, they could do whatever they want, whenever they wanted, and that included shooting men they thought were acting up.
   The men mounted the platform and Ferin was able to get a good look at the men. The official seemed to be a veteran of many wars. A plate covered half his face, and scars covered the other half. The company commander seemed fairly young though. He seemed purposeful and confident though, not overly, but confident, which was a good sign, he understood his limits. The commissar had several scars, and had sunglasses over his eyes, his expression stern as he looked over the company. The four guard with the company commander seemed to be veterans, a couple scars were on them, but not much. The commander took the podium, and looked over the company.
“Men! We are now at our one week anniversary. Hope you feel special. I am the company commander, Sergeant Boris Grevane. I welcome you all who are new to our unit.”, Grevane said with a grin, which seemed real.
The sergeant thumbed through some papers for a moment before continuing.
“Today is a good day! Our unit has its first assignment!”
Applause broke out along with some whistling.
“We are going to aid in the defense of a planet in the Fenris system.”
Everything went quiet to Ferin except the commander’s words. What was happening in the Fenris system? Could he possibly get away to rejoin his tribe? But as the commander continued he found he was just being teased.
“On the planet of Fenris IV.” Grevane said, and Ferin could have sworn that he was looking directly at him.
“We will be leaving in one hour! Get your equipment together, and fall back in here! Dismissed!”
   Men broke from the field in all directions as they headed for their rooms to get their equipment. It soon degenerated into organized chaos as men hastily packed their equipment and supplies in the proper order, checking and cleaning weapons, and making sure armor is in good order. Ferin stood out on the walkway, the wind throwing back his cloak and hair as he looked up at the towering spires of the surrounding hive, watching the air vehicles go passed. His thoughts drifted aimlessly from home, to the last war, to what this new one might bring. He though about the Imperium as a whole, and at just how many wars might be being fought right now. If what his brother said was true, and that this unit will lead him to his destiny, then he has a lot to look forward to. His brother also said that they will meet again, could it be this mission?
He felt a hand clap him on the back.
“Thinking of home Ferin?” Clement asked, leaning on the guard rail, and looking up at the city.
“Yes, this mission will be probably the closest to home I will ever be again. Right there, and I can’t lay a foot in my tribes territory or planet for that matter.” Ferin said.
“That happens young blood. Get used to being here; you will be here for a while.” Clement said.
“Yes, I know. My destiny lies here apparently…..”
“What?”
“Nevermind. The Valkyries are here.” Ferin said as the wail of the transports engines grew loudly fast as several soared down onto the parade field, clouds of dirt getting kicked up from the jets.
   Ferin walked down the stairs and onto the parade field as the doors of the Valkyries thumped open. Ferin stopped and stood on the parade ground, looking around him at the barracks, and the spires of the city, the multitude of air traffic, and the soldiers walking around him. A voice behind him jarred him from his thoughts.
“Your one of a kind Ferin.”
Turning around, Ferin came face to face with the commissar.
“I don’t think I have been in a unit with one like you. A lost pup.” The commissar continued, looking at the loading of the valkyrie, hands behind his back, his expression blank.
“You know, I was the same, a long time ago. Lost, and wandering aimlessly. I was lucky, picked up by the Scholo Progenium, and became a commissar. But I don’t think that route would suit you Ferin. You don’t believe in the Emperor, your faith is in you. I do not have any problem with that. A mans thoughts are his alone. His decisions are what makes him unique. I can see great things in your future Halen Ferin. But the question is, do you have faith in yourself enough to make those things happen?”
“I have heard this before Commissar. I will fight when I need to fight, that is all I can say.” Ferin said as he strode up the ramp to the Valkyrie.
“I believe you will. But I believe you will do more. We will see, no one knows the future Ferin, your fate is yours.” The commissar finished, and strode off towards the other Valkyrie.

   The air reverberated as the Valkyries powerful engines roared, fire spewing from them as the aircraft gained altitude slow at first but gaining in speed. A cloud of dust engulfed the parade ground as the beasts labored into the air. With a final blast from their engines, they roared off up the city, and into orbit, where a waiting transport took the valkyries. In little over an hour and a half, the transport ripped its way into the warp and towards the beginning of the 512ths legacy, and the beginnings of Ferins life as a soldier of the Imperium. The war on Fenris IV was to solidify these things, as beneath that world an ancient and powerful enemy was stirring, and will plunge him towards facing an evil even more menacing, and unstoppable than chaos, and far more ancient.

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