Vampiretwilight
NecroKnight@Lady Selune@ReedeThe23rd@BCTheEntity@CleanBreeze@Eisenhorn@Irredeemable@Reia
Time: 2 AM Location: The skies above Ventirest city, Vocintis, Weather and Temperature: Stormy, temperature unknown.
Moving from one warzone to another was never a swift procedure, especially when it came to the labyrinthe structure that was the Departmento Munitorum - matched with the military dedication of the Astra Militarum, and the religious fervour of the Adeptus Ministorum, it took nearly a month for everything to be sorted on Vernum and the various regiments assigned and shipped off to their newest posting.
The 87th 'Expeditio Vernum' Combined Regiment, C Company under Captain Di Fieroccu (much to the chagrine and annoyance of Colonel Vyacheslav) included, were marched raggedly onto the transport vessel Askellon and billeted aboard with at least four other regiments of the Imperial Guard, their whole journey to their new deployment taking seven months in realspace and a two week trip through the immaterium.
Once space was split open and the small armada of Imperial vessels, the Askellon along with them, reappeared in reality they were several days from their objective on thrusters alone.
In this time it was revealed to the officers, and through them the lower downs (though maybe not as low down as the rank-and-file), that they were heading for a civilised world called Vocintis - technologically as advanced as the rest of the Imperium, but still somewhat of a backwater near the Eastern Fringe - a planet that had become swamped in corruption during the coming of the Great Rift, but a strategically important one that the overstretched Imperium wanted back.
Sergeant... no, Lieutenant Sithech now, he had to remind himself, moved to-and-fro in the same manner as every other one of the soldiers of C Company gathered about him; each one of them was strapped into a harness inside the Valkyrie gunship, their weapons either clutched in hands or securely locked against the wall within reach.
Like his comrades-in-arms he was clothed in a mismatch of his own traditional uniform and the regiments own - a white and black pattern flak jacket and forearm armour covered by his usual tartan plaid, no helmet visible anywhere - his lasgun, bayonet already stuck on the lug, held softly in his experienced hands.
God-Emperor he hated the waiting, more so even than the way the gunship juddered and shook all around them, the sound of flak loud and clear outside the armoured plating, soon to turn into a lurching descent onto their objective.
Their objective...
From what he had been told, which had been somewhat more than the rest of the grunts in C Companies command squad, they were being dropped at the edge of Ventirest city with a company of Noctan Strike troopers - elite guerilla and stealth experts - as well as another company from the 24th Rigan Rilfes, all charged with securing the north-eastern city edge for further Imperial forces.
"ETA t-minus 5 minutes," crackled the voice from the cockpit, the side-gunner sliding open his doorway near the front of the gunship, the sound of flak and smaller calibres of weapons reaching the veterans ears with as much familiarity as the voice of his own dearly-departed mother.
"Well," he said with a chuckle to no-one in particular, "here we gae agin."
Time: 2 AM Location: The skies above Ventirest city, Vocintis, Weather and Temperature: Stormy, temperature unknown.
Moving from one warzone to another was never a swift procedure, especially when it came to the labyrinthe structure that was the Departmento Munitorum - matched with the military dedication of the Astra Militarum, and the religious fervour of the Adeptus Ministorum, it took nearly a month for everything to be sorted on Vernum and the various regiments assigned and shipped off to their newest posting.
The 87th 'Expeditio Vernum' Combined Regiment, C Company under Captain Di Fieroccu (much to the chagrine and annoyance of Colonel Vyacheslav) included, were marched raggedly onto the transport vessel Askellon and billeted aboard with at least four other regiments of the Imperial Guard, their whole journey to their new deployment taking seven months in realspace and a two week trip through the immaterium.
Once space was split open and the small armada of Imperial vessels, the Askellon along with them, reappeared in reality they were several days from their objective on thrusters alone.
In this time it was revealed to the officers, and through them the lower downs (though maybe not as low down as the rank-and-file), that they were heading for a civilised world called Vocintis - technologically as advanced as the rest of the Imperium, but still somewhat of a backwater near the Eastern Fringe - a planet that had become swamped in corruption during the coming of the Great Rift, but a strategically important one that the overstretched Imperium wanted back.
Sergeant... no, Lieutenant Sithech now, he had to remind himself, moved to-and-fro in the same manner as every other one of the soldiers of C Company gathered about him; each one of them was strapped into a harness inside the Valkyrie gunship, their weapons either clutched in hands or securely locked against the wall within reach.
Like his comrades-in-arms he was clothed in a mismatch of his own traditional uniform and the regiments own - a white and black pattern flak jacket and forearm armour covered by his usual tartan plaid, no helmet visible anywhere - his lasgun, bayonet already stuck on the lug, held softly in his experienced hands.
God-Emperor he hated the waiting, more so even than the way the gunship juddered and shook all around them, the sound of flak loud and clear outside the armoured plating, soon to turn into a lurching descent onto their objective.
Their objective...
From what he had been told, which had been somewhat more than the rest of the grunts in C Companies command squad, they were being dropped at the edge of Ventirest city with a company of Noctan Strike troopers - elite guerilla and stealth experts - as well as another company from the 24th Rigan Rilfes, all charged with securing the north-eastern city edge for further Imperial forces.
"ETA t-minus 5 minutes," crackled the voice from the cockpit, the side-gunner sliding open his doorway near the front of the gunship, the sound of flak and smaller calibres of weapons reaching the veterans ears with as much familiarity as the voice of his own dearly-departed mother.
"Well," he said with a chuckle to no-one in particular, "here we gae agin."