Two Terras

Devourer

Sergeant Trage hated this, he hated every second of this noisy, bumpy, back-aching ride down to hell. He sat with his kit neatly bundled behind his legs and under his seat, belts kept him tightly strapped to the unpadded metal chair of the descending drop ship. Trage was not unfamiliar with the Devourer class dropships, and he hated his deployments in the damned things. They were massive, and they had the engines to move their bloated bodies. He looked around, the sweating faces of his fellow Cadians greeted him. They too hated these drops, Trage knew. The chapel like holding room packed with rows and several floors of seats, he guessed it held a 5th of the entire regiment. And below them the spacious vehicle hold, able to pack in an equal number of vehicles. He raised a shaking hand to wipe sweat out of his eyes, the salty water now gushing down his face. He winced. Dehydration was a killer, and he knew it. He'd watched men just collapse and die from lack of water, Trage mused on their stupidity for a moment before the thoughts were lurched away alongside the painful rattle of the seat below him. Atmospheric breach, he realized. They would be on the ground soon. 

"Squad Liberty, prepare for engagement." He said into his vox, other sergeants did the same. The red light that bathed them became yellow, and the massive drop ship levelled out. Trage unhooked himself and stood, stumbling through the shaking of the ship. He wrenched the pack of his equipment out from his seat and began to disassemble the bundle. Helmet, knife, pistol, canteen, flask, lighter, Iho sticks, bandolier, bolter, chainsword. Trage hefted his bolter, he sighted the thick irons down. "Holy Emperor let your fury be sound through this article of death. For war is my chapel, and gunfire is my prayer." He muttered as he joined the other guardsmen amassing at the door to the holding pen. He joined his men by the door, able to spot out his squad by the hulking form of Sonaard. Guardsman Sonaard could put an ogryn to shame with his height, and could most definitely outthink even Trage sometimes. Sonaard grew up on an agri world and showed the rigors of that life, the big man was soft spoken but strong enough to use an auto cannon as a normal man would a heavy stubber. Sonaard turned to face Trage and flashed him a grin. "We going to skewer some xenos Sarge?" Trage nodded, he pulled the charging bolt of his bolter and racked the massive bullet in. "Emperor willing, we'll do much more than skewer." 

The horde of Cadians filled in the massive space in front of the cone nose of the Devourer, they crowded into respective Chimeras or Tauroxes. Trage breathed deeply as he stared ahead, all around him his squad prepared in their own small ways. Jurgen had his eyes closed and was softly muttering prayers to a small effigy of the Emperor. Vanessa cleaned her long las with a rag, the weapon was perfectly clean but she continued to clean what was not there. Sonaard slowly racked auto cannon rounds into several drum mags, the soft clicking was comforting to Trage. He snuck a glance at the rookie, he sat with the others and stared straight ahead. Ignoring the card game going on with the remaining members of Squad Liberty. Trage stuck an Iho stick into his mouth and lit the end, taking a deep puff.  The bliss was interrupted as a massive vibration rocked the Devourer, He knew that feeling. Landing. The Chimera he sat in engaged its engines and roared forward in tune with its brothers. "Lock and load, ladies and mutts." He said simply, thumbing on the safety of his bolter. The card game wrapped up in an instant and lasguns were brought forth. Trage moved to the cab and positioned himself beside the driver, who nodded at him. "Any idea what we're up against sir?" The man asked, eyes laser focused on the small slit that let him see outside. Trage shook his head. "Briefing said large insectoids. But I stopped trusting those a long time ago." The driver nodded, and leaned forward. "Throne...Sarge take a look through the heavies sights, its really somethin." Trage turned and peered through the small screen that served as the hull mounted heavy bolter's sight. He watched as the heavy cannons of the lead Leman Russes opened up at targets far away. The Devourers own mounted auto cannons and plasma turrets fired as well. Trage kept watching the ordnance go out and then caught sight of the writhing mass of xenos being plowed out of the way by Leman Russes and their dozer blades. "Holy Terra, we've got our work cut out for us." Trage muttered as he watched the horde of xenos extend far beyond the current sight range of the Chimera.