Orks. The Karelian 11th would be fighting orks on their first military deployment, and first engagement. Four out of five of the newly trained soldiers had very little idea what they were to be confronted with. Double the height and several times their own weight in raw, brutish muscle, the simplest ork would tear through any one of them. That was assuming they were left to their own devices. Lieutenant Lyudmila Lyrachenko, known colloquially as 'Lyra', certainly intended to keep ork axes, knives and other instruments separate from the comparatively delicate physical forms of her subordinates. In comparison to her troops who, while having been given briefings and taught rudimentary tactics with which to employ against the greenskins, knew very little about their upcoming foe, Lyra had been extensively studying them. The [I]Emperor's Benediction[/I], an Imperial Navy troopship which had conveyed the Karelian 11th, among other regiments, to the surface of Vernum Primas, had taken several weeks of warp travel to arrive at its destination. It was during this time that Lyra not only became more familiar with the men and women under her command, deciding upon who would be filling crucial roles in the battle to come, but also spent a great deal of time using the Imperial Guard's archive system available to officers which contained innumerable extensive, if at times more than slightly biased, sources regarding the physiology, culture, psychology, religion and, arguably most importantly, the tactics associated with the greenskin horde. Numerous texts and reports had been written regarding this specific war band, having been frequently fought for the last decade, and Lyra made sure to familiarise herself with as many of them as possible so as to identify any unique aspects, or exploitable weaknesses.

After those weeks of uneventful warp travel had passed, Lyra found herself on the battered landscape of Vernum Primas. From her position in an observation post dozens of metres above those on the ground, and several kilometres behind the front trenches, she could see it all. Through the amplified lenses of her binoculars she could see dozens of vast trenches, now empty save for corpses, boxes and pools of muddy watter. Beyond that she could see variously coloured bodies laying motionless on the muddy, pockmarked field between the trenches and Vernum City. The uniforms, some brightly coloured in red, others in dull olive, were all half-coated in wet mud and soaked through with blood and water. The city itself was too far away to make out discernible features of individuals, though she could see the unmistakable luminous glow of lasgun fire and the sparks of autoguns, which she assumed belonged to the orkish occupants, projected onto the walls of buildings. Tanks belonging to Cadian regiments, and armoured transports from various others trudged their way through the no man's land towards the city. Some of the tanks were bogged down, with mechanics working desperately to free them. The barrels of other vehicles glowed red and smoked, having continuously battered Vernum City in an attempt to cover the advancing infantry and to smash clustered pockets of orks into oblivion. Lyra swallowed hard as her eyes were inevitably drawn back to the lifeless bodies beyond the trenches. There were dozens, if not hundreds from what she could see, and it wracked her to think that many of them likely could have been saved, but by now would likely have had infected wounds if they still drew breath. Few regiments were accompanied by samaritans, the Guard's mobile armoured ambulances, but the Karelian infantry regiments were among the exceptions. Karelia viewed its citizens as too important to be thrown away (though not too important to avoid conscription). Lyra, combined with being platoon commander of the first battalion of her regiment, was also a trauma surgeon and fulfilled both roles within the Guard. She had given orders that the samaritan accompanying her platoon into the city was to remain at the rear of her convoy when the order was given to advance, and to wait outside the walls with a small guard until an all clear was given to set up a triage.

“[B]Vox message, ma'am![/B]” cried a high, young voice from below. Lyra swallowed in anticipation of what it could be, though she suspected it was likely an order to begin offensive movements, and lowered her binoculars. Peering over the edge of the observation tower, she gestured to her vox operator to continue. She had switched off her commbead from the general channel, having already listened to hours of frantic screaming for aid from the first wave regiments, most of which went unanswered, and gave orders for her operator to inform her the moment message was received from command.

“[B]The Lord Militant has ordered us to advance,[/B]” said the operator, straining to look up to the tower with the weight of her radio pulling down on her small frame. Lyra shouted an acknowledgement and gazed at the arranged military mass of the second wave. Almost half a dozen regiments of emotionless, coal-coloured Krieg infantrymen stood erect and motionless as if on parade. The Karelian 11th would be advancing ahead of them, acting as a reconnaissance force. Though she did not voice her feelings, the Krieg regiments terrified her. The men and women under her command were boisterous and cheerful, while the ashen ranks of Kriegers did not even have names, identifiable only by numbers, even their officers, a fact which astounded Lyra. On Karelia those who volunteered for service as an officer had their names enshrined on the base of marble states, honouring them. She had read a small portion of their history, of their civil war against the Imperium hundreds of years ago, and why they so often fought to the bitter end against impossible odds as repentance.

Lyra descended the ladder on the observation tower and called her sergeant to her. “[B]Lustig,[/B]” she called out clearly and firmly, though her tone was vastly different from the harsh barks of her senior non-commissioned officer.

“[B]Ma'am,[/B]” said Lustig, snapping his heels together and saluting crisply with parade ground precision. His crimson tunic was pristine and his bronze shoulder pieces and chest plate were burnished to a dazzling shine. Lyra had to look up to meet the eyes of the towering sergeant, her tiny height almost comical in comparison. His physical size met the stereotypical persona of a Karelian sergeant: tall, moustached and densely muscled. Lyra gave swift orders for her sergeant to muster the first platoon and to have them embark onto the tauroses parked in a single rank nearby. The first platoon had been resting, though all had their boots on and their packs next to them, ready to move at a moments notice. The sergeant ran between clustered groups, kicking them to their feet and barking orders. Within one minute the whole platoon was mustered and seated in their vehicles. The orderlies proceeded into the samaritan with equal efficiency, if less haste, and an infantryman climbed into the gunner's pit atop the vehicle where he triple checked the heavy bolter which acted as the vehicles only offensive weapon. 

Lyra took her position in the passenger seat of the second vehicle, with Lustig in the front tauros. Her vox operator was sat behind her with her vox caster unslung and a pale look on her face. Lyra reassured her with a warm smile and a nod, and the young operator fastened her tall bearskin, swallowing hard. The roar of the vehicles was deafening as a dozen tauros transports leapt to life simultaneously. The dull chugging of the samaritan followed, accompanied by the shrieking of its tracks as it struggled to find traction in the muddy ground. Lyra gave the order to advance to Lustig, and within moments the swift vehicles were rapidly leaving behind the relatively safe confines of the siege encampment. The Karelian 11th would advance ahead of the Kriegers, who would be providing the bulk of the second wave. Lyra silently hoped that should her platoon run into any trouble along the way that the emotionless guardsmen would not be far behind. The rest of the 11th would be advancing with the Kriegers, aside from other light infantry elements in other platoons which would be entering the city from different locations. Sniper teams had been inserted into the city by Valkyrie transports when the Elysians had dropped into the centre, and had been feeding back information since the beginning of the battle. Lyra's side objective was to link with the sniper team and extract them from a towering apartment complex.

Once she passed the threshold of the city, Lyra was lost for words. No lectures in the military college, or wargames during training could prepare her for the sheer devastation that met the Karelians the moment they entered Vernum City. Bodies beyond counting filled the street, human and ork alike, to the extent that the tauros transports rocked sickeningly as they were forced to drive over the bloody and misshapen corpses, with no time to clear them away. The subsequent samaritan vehicle ground guardsman and ork corpses into paste following Lyra's order to advance. The immediate area was relatively secure, with no sign of greenskin or guard units. The chugging of the vehicles' engines resonated against the cold stone buildings as they passed cautiously through the warren of streets. She could hear the rumbling of gunfire in the distance, but was unable to discern the direction. Lyra gestured from the handset of the vox caster and had it set to a secure frequency which only other vox casters would receive.

“[B]To all receiving units, this is Lieutenant Lyrachenko of the Karelian 11th regiment. We are now entering the threshold of the city en route to the Cathedral of Holy Light with substantial medical equipment. We require a secure cordon to set up triage and … begin treatment of any…[/B]” she paused as the words stuck in her throat. Her eyes were kept skyward to avoid the grisly sight of the bodies on the road, but the stench of blood and exposed entrails made the reality unavoidable. “... any wounded personnel. Receiving units please respond with details of the situation,” she added and passed the handset back to her vox operator. 

“[B]Over,[/B]” added the operator before replacing the handset onto the vox caster. She gave Lyra a sheepish look, who nodded in return. Lyra was sickened to the point where it was becoming visibly unprofessional. She had seen corpses during her medical training and education, but they were always clean and checked before study, unlike the sight before her. Every path the tauroses took, followed by the rumbling samaritan, painted vibrant red and gold with entwined crimson serpents on the flanks, was strewn with detritus and death. Entire platoons, if not companies had been massacred in the first wave. The explosions and crackles of gunfire were becoming significantly louder as they advanced towards their objective. Despite the devastating nausea she was feeling, Lyra did her best to keep herself respectable and eyed the rooftops and alleyways keenly as they passed by. 

It would not be long, she thought, until the same enemy which had slaughtered the guardsmen on the road would soon beset them also.