It wasn't long before a vox-operator was running over to the warrant officer currently running the 3003rd, to inform him of the latest transmission. Unfortunately, it wasn't what he was waiting for. "Warrant! We just got a message from the second wave!" the man shouted as he finished running over to the ranking NCO.

"Report." the man knew he was about to get the report, but the runner needed a moment to catch his breath. Everyone was on edge, and running around with a vox on your back didn't help.

"Some officer... Lieutenant Lima-Twelve or something like that... Her radio procedure was all kinds of fucked, but she says she's got medical supplies and personnel. She needs a secure area at the objective to set up an aid station." the vox-operator waited for instructions once he finished relaying the transmission.

"Don't bother replying..." the warrant officer trailed off before muttering under his breath. "Fucking [i]officers[/i]... Of course it is. Fuck my life." he didn't actually try to be quiet. They all shared the same opinion about junior officers around here. "Keep an ear out for confirmation-" he stopped talking when the vox barked to life again. The operator wouldn't have paid attention anyway, as he was listening to whatever was coming through his headset.

"The Tusheinans at the Cathedral have confirmed our report. They're watching for us now." he didn't mention the state of their radio procedures, and just waited for orders.

"Prepare to move." was all the senior NCO had to say on that matter. The word spread like fire over a pool of gasoline, and very soon everyone was moving.

"Corporal Hazard!" the man bellowed. Felix was already moving to his commander's position.

"Moving, Warrant!" he sounded off, making his way to the grizzled veteran as quickly as possible.

"Get your platoon up and moving. You've got five minutes to clear us a route from the time you leave the perimeter. And pass on that we need a defensible position for an aid station when we get in there. Go." the Iceman didn't even pause long enough to say "Yes, Warrant." he just turned and sprinted back to the men he'd been put in command of, and roused them to action. Even the sleeping grenadiers were up in arms in seconds, it was one of the 3003rd's best features. By the time he'd passed on their orders, they were all prepared to move, and Felix led the way at a jog.

The objective was a five-minute march away, so at a jog they would make slightly better time, but it was still going to be close. To that end, the junior NCO left his second-in-command at the rear to deal with any problems on that end, before taking the lead to set up a perimeter all the way up to the in-progress defensive line at the cathedral. As they moved, the group left a fireteam behind every twenty-five metres to provide covering fire, should anything unpleasant suddenly appear. Of course the really problem was the massive intersection at the end of the street that led to the cathedral. No cover and wide-open lanes of fire meant that a greenskin rush would be a very bad thing if they weren't dug in when it happened. Even with the Brontians and Xenonians, the Iceman doubted they would get out of such a predicament in a way that could be described as any kind of positive. He supposed they would just have to hope, since they were at just as much risk of friendly fire with a manoeuvre like this.

Lucky for the vanguard, the 3003rd's interim leader had the sense to call ahead once more, assuring anyone who cared to listen that they were moving to the objective now, and anyone shooting in a westerly direction should double-check their shots. Then, because he couldn't stand the idea of someone else rushing in and mucking something up, the senior Grenadier ordered everyone to move out just as soon as the time had expired on Felix's advance movement. The platoon hadn't quite finished setting up, but they were close, and by the time the rest of the Raiders made it that far, everything should be secure.

It went without saying that even such a rushed, unplanned manoeuvre, when performed by the 3003rd, was tight and efficient. Every one of them was a veteran of one kind or another, and even though half of them weren't old enough to drink, they performed as flawlessly as could be expected of angry soldiers eager to turn the tide of slaughter. That meant they mostly had to herd the Xenonians and Brontians, while also demanding that the Cadian's hurry up. The barely-mechanised 88th were incredibly hesitant to leave the cover of their chimeras, it seemed, and their drivers were understandably unwilling to push the vehicles very hard in the claustrophobic urban environment. The discipline of the Xenonians and Brontians was appreciated, but their desire to occupy the outer ranks to facilitate charges didn't sit well with their trigger-happy companions, so the migration to the cathedral that had started out so smartly had devolved into a subdued rush for the objective just past the halfway mark.

The 3003rd were lucky enough to be the first through the opening in the defensive line, and they stormed the fortifications smartly. It only took a few glances around to confirm that these were all friendly forces. From there orders were passed around haphazardly and the soldiers were split up into two working parties. One was instructed to set up defenses for an aid station, while the others repaired the gap they'd put in the original fortifications, and then verified that everything already set up was still viable. Felix was part of the latter team, as he was the last one through.  Unfortunately for him and the rest of the Grenadiers, concertina wire was in short supply, and it appeared they would have to try and defend themselves with little more than rubble and sharpened sticks. The shovels appeared soon after that, and it wasn't long before even the Raiders' most senior NCO was digging out clear patches of ground to carve trenches into...