"Get those supplies on you balls of shit!" 

"Move move! Go go!"

Zeb and Grimdal hauled up the last crate of the ammunition the groundcar would take. Across the road, the other men were finishing up their cargo along the way. Guardsmen were already cranking their vehicles, the exhaust rippling the morning air as the sun peeked over the horizon. The loud clacks and racking of turrets and ammo filled Zeb's ears as he hopped into the passengers seat, taking hold of the groundcar's handle and stood above the driver and passengers, lasgun held in the air. 

There were eleven of them, popularly called Outrider Scout Vehicles or OSV's, favored by PDF or mercenaries that needed fast, sturdy, and reliable transportation without wanting to spend their weight in imperial credits for a true military vehicle. Found at an old abandoned depot five miles east of the landing zone, Emperor's grace, they had only found a score of Orks loitering about between there and here. The men outnumbered them and fought in ranks. None of them had even been touched, and once they made it to the hollowed out depot, the steel grate garage had a small supply of PDF equipment, mostly taken or looted by the Orks. Luckily, the groundcars' seats were too small for an ork to fit, so they left them relatively untouched. Four of them had heavy stubbers mounted on their backs. Not boltguns, but large caliber, gas powered, fully automatic turrets. Drum fed, they had four drums for each gun. Corporal Batte, the de facto leader of one of the squads, had used them before in the Second Agrellan Campaign in the Ultima Segmentum. 

During the night, Specialist Rikkerd had intercepted a communique from headquarters and had managed to patch Zeb through to the nearest major, giving them a good idea of the current happenings in the area which coincided with a basic map they were provided with at landfall. There were mountains to the north and east, sweeping west until they stopped at the sea. The large town of Malfonte was currently under siege in the north, Du-retour being the largest rendezvous point and strong position for the wayward astra militarum drops that had been meant for a flanking attack. So far, the best they had been able to do was kill ork stragglers and divide the main xenos horde's attention, but no decisive operation had yet been conducted. They would wait another ten days before attacking north in force. To the south there were naught but wandering orks and holdouts of low-priority PDF troops. First Landing was still holding strong a few hundred kilometers to the south, but if Malfonte collapsed, there would be nothing to stop Gorbad from sweeping across the land and surround First Landing from all sides. 

Zeb and the men weren't going north, south, or east, however. Katia's shuttle had been confirmed to be shot down sixty kilometers west of their position. At first light, they had gathered what food and ammunition they could, and as Zeb raised his hand, the corporals had given him the all clear. Even as he looked behind him, the horizon awash with smoke, flame, and specks of light flying like comets across the sky and hitting unknown targets in the atmosphere, the last door of the last OSV was closed. 

Hagman smiled and cranked the car into gear, taking the radio mic from its holster and holding it up for Zeb to take. He did so, at once still amazed anyone was following his lead. On both Lorn V and Pavonis, he had been naught but a grunt, and he knew as soon as they found a Lieutenant or Emperor willing, Katia, he wouldn't lose complete authority just the same. But at the moment, he hoped he could lead well enough to save a few lives. 

"Hope you all ate and took your piss breaks. We're not stopping until we get to that shuttle." He told them, the timbre in his voice unreservedly confident. "At fourteen hundred hours, I expect to rendezvous with Commissar Katia and whoever follows her, and at that I give up my claim on you, and we follow her lead. Conserve ammunition, mind the roads, and no heroics. We fight as a unit. Keep the guns trained to the outer edge of the perimeter. Now let's give 'em the wrath of the guard." 

The men cheered, the OSVs now rolling out of the depot's broken fence and turning left over the broken road. The OSVs began to pick up speed, and due to their lack of roofing, the wind began whipping through the hair of the men who had lost their helmets. Thirty...forty...fifty kilometers an hour. Had they a straight road to the last known location of the shuttle, they would make it there before lunch, but nothing was guaranteed. Every farm looked blasted by artillery or ork wartrukks. 

"You got a lot of dedication to that Commissar, Zeb. She must be quite the lady." Hagman called to him. Zeb blinked and was glad the radio channel hadn't remained open. The car went over a dip in the road, causing the men in it to jump as they conversed. 

"Dedi- what?" 

"Giving up your authority and all. Are the rumors about you two true?" He inquired curiously, eyes switching from the road to Zeb's face. 

"She's a fucking commissar!" Zeb barked as if that answered all questions from then until Emperor come. Dedication!? He didn't want to get shot when they met up! Yeah, there was a camraderie and maybe a certain fondness, but Katia still had the authority to dome him at a moments notice, and any hint of insubordination was certainly grounds for that! What sort of rumors were being spread, exactly? "I'm a sergeant, if you take my word over hers I'll shoot you myself." 

"Well, I wasn't thinking that. But the fact you had to say it, ya know?" Hagman added, which made absolutely no sense to Zeb. "Is it true she fights like a vengeful Valkyrie?" 

Zeb opened his mouth to tell him off, but he was caught off guard with the lack of insanity in his latest question. "Uh... Yeah, I guess that's true." He admitted. 

"Can't wait to meet her," he said back to Zeb. At that moment, the first artillery strikes of the day went underway. They were far off, but the men were intensely aware that the shells flew over their position.