[I]Time: 8:25 AM, Location: Deck-Barracks 792, aboard the Transport Frigate 'Castellan' - ETA til planatery embarkation procedure 5 minutes[/i]


As the days elongated into weeks, nothing of any particular note transpired; the 87th reformed into a more cohesive and organised version of itself, a distinct hierarchy being created and D-Company specifically - mostly due to the number of Abhumans to share between their squads - standing out from the rank and file of the rest of the regiment. Standard procedure continued to dominate lives, firing exercises, daily routines of cleaning and prayer, and even the odd long game of regicide or hangman's ace being played here and there by the more bored and more experienced gamblers among them. 

One more thing did occur during the trip through the Warp, and that was the issuing to each and every soldier of the regiment their new [i]Hija[/i]-pattern close-quarter weapons - although they were also permitted to keep their Cadian pattern mono-knife/bayonet if they so wished, the thinking being that two weapons were better than one! It was hoped by their Colonel that these weapons would help to unify the disparate fractures of now-dead regiments spread through his own...and only time would tell.


[hr]


What seemed to be a journey of merely two weeks was in actuality one of near four months in real space, the small armada of Imperial Navy transports and escort vessels emerging back into 'true' space with a tearing of the fabric between the realms and a juddering shudder that could be felt even in the interior hangar bays where the Guard regiments were located. Anyone who knew anything about space travel would be able to feel it and know that they had emerged from the Immaterium, their ships triangular prows jutting forth and dragging the rest of the ship with it in a whip-crack of motion. 

What they may not have been expecting was what happened next...

At first there was nothing, just the tail-end of the shuddering and then the common enough humming of the engines of the [i]Castellan[/i]. Moments passed and still nothing, if anything the transport frigate was beginning to pick up speed, moving through the emptiness of space with practised ease and heading toward their required destination. It was only then that [i]something[/i] went wrong, something that caused the ship to lurch and shake to its very core, repetitive strikes from without causing the vessel to groan and swerve - as well as one can in space - away from the suddenly present dangers.

There were almost as many of them as there were Imperial vessels, oddly shaped craft that had seemingly come out of nowhere, there beige colouring seemingly at odds with the darkness about them, and the charged beams of the ion cannons hammering into ship after ship; one transport, slower than the others and older too, yet filled with just as many alarmed Guardsmen, tore itself apart as a flurry of missiles blew the ships generators and destroyed the unfortunate vessel from the inside.

Inside his office Colonel Nizar was yelling into the mouthpiece of his personal vox, determined to ascertain what was happening outside the thick metal walls of what could end up being his very own space coffin, but all he could seem to find out for sure was that they were under attack by an enemy that had apparently been waiting for them. How they had known where they would emerge, or there own strength, was quite a mystery and one which would cost the fleet at least a quarter of its ships by the time they made it to the rendezvous point. They were harried all the way.


[hr]


A hush ran through the 87th Composite as their Commanding Officer exited his office and stood on the gantry overlooking the deck below, a megavox held in one hand and a blinking dataslate in the other, the instrument raised casually to his lips and those below looking back at him. They had been formed up into companies and squads not fifteen minutes ago, each standing next to their assigned or chosen Chimera APC and each kitted out in their full uniform and arsenal.

"Men and women of the 87th, your time is nearly upon you," he began in a stoic but firm tone of voice, "we are barely ten minutes away from our target location, our fleet joining with two others already out here on the Eastern Fringe, and soon we shall be embarking to the world below. Once there you shall report to your company commanders for further instruction..." it seemed as if he may say something else, but instead he made the sign of the Aquila and gave a small nod, "may you come back alive, the Emperor protects."

With that the hush was broken, NCOs and company-rank commanders yelling at their subordinates to mount up into their Chimera and wait; the next phase of the landing process was nearly upon them, any moment now they would be driven into the wide mouth of a landing craft that would connect with the [i]Castellan[/i], just one of many, the vast black ships able to contain a regiment and their vehicles each. They were slow and cumbersome however, and this operation needed to being swiftly if it was to have a chance of success.

Some of the soldiers took a glance back at their temporary home, before ducking into the red-lit interior of their vehicle, while most simply shouldered their weapons, gave a prayer to Him on Terra, and listened to the vibration of their vehicles engine.

Any moment now and all would begin - they had deliberately been given no information about their enemy, or their enemy's strength on the planet, or generally about [b]anything[/b]. It would not do to scare the men before they even hit the surface, and they would know exactly where they were and who they were fighting soon enough! First they had to get down there, and that was going to be an ordeal in itself.

[@Bright_Ops][@Hank][@mackielars][@Rultaos][@Andreyich][@NecroKnight][@Dannyrulx][@agentmanatee]