Vedrix Dux leaned against the cool steel interior fuselage wall as the Marauder bomber flew through the night skies over the city of Parvati. As an Optio, he was the equivalent of a Lieutenant of a standard pattern division, in command of a platoon of twenty-four men. He and his command squad of four veterans all carried stormbolters that gave them unparalleled firepower compared to most Imperial Guardsmen. Two ten-man squads were also sitting in the uncomfortable "jumpseats" that lined the interior of the bomber. Some were serious, some were joking around, and more than a few were praying. It was understandable…some of them wouldn't be returning…
The 391st was the first Century of the Ninth Cohort, the air-mobile drop infantry of Third Legion from Byzantium Nova. They were, by necessity, a light infantry unit, without the heavy armor support that other Imperial Guard units enjoyed. The only armor they had were the light, scouting walkers known as Sentinels, as they could be dropped from the cargo bays of Valkyries or other transports. He looked out a gunner's window to see another bomber flying in close formation with them. He knew that inside were two more squads that would be dropping with them, some veteran scouts and a heavy weapons team.
The vox-caster squawked, and the voice of Centurion Augustus Valerius filled the cold cabin, "Gentlemen, we are five minutes from the drop zone." The Century commander was in the second set of bombers flying some distance behind them. They would drop in after the primary units had encountered the enemy. It was one of the tactics that enabled the light infantry Cohort to be so successful. After the primary combat teams engaged the enemy forces, the secondary teams would drop in on their flanks to catch them in a brutal crossfire.
"As you know, aerial reconnaissance has discovered a Tyranid breeding nest in the industrial area of Sector Seventeen. We are going in with Prometheum charges to burn the bugs out and eliminate the nest. The rest of the Ninth is out on similar raids, and I want the First Century to show them how it's done!"
"Hoo-ah!" The men chanted automatically.
"I have heard from Legatus Trajanus himself, that all mission elements that are successful in burning out a Bug-hole will be granted two extra rations of wine to celebrate when we get back." The transmission paused for a moment as the men cheered. "And…a special reward for the individual squad that plants the charges. Whatever squad first reaches the objective, and blasts the bugs to Hell, will be given passes to have all three meals in the Officer's Mess tomorrow." This elicited a second round of cheers from the men. The opportunity to eat some real food at the officer's mess was a coveted reward for men who had been eating bland enlisted mess food or tasteless field rations.
Vedrix could hear the good humor in the Centurion's voice as he continued, "Now…I have decided to sweeten the deal a bit. I want to show the entire Legion that the 391st is the finest Century here. For the squad who accomplishes our mission objective, I will treat them, from my own personal wages, to the girl of their choice at any of the sanctioned brothels of Parvati." Vedrix Dux chuckled while rubbing his face as at the raucous reaction from the men in the bomber. Good wine, good food, and a good woman…what more could a Guardsman ask for?
The lights went out, to be replaced by the harsh red glare of the jump warning light. Dux lifted himself off the wall, adjusting his flak armor and helmet, "All right, gentlemen. You heard the Centurion! Prepare for jump, sixty seconds!" The soldiers stood and formed up into two lines, ready to leap out of a perfectly good aircraft. As they waited for the signal to go, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a holo-print. It was an image of Saint Magdalena, taken by a Guardsman during her speech to the men a few months ago. Ever since, the enterprising fellow had been selling prints for five credits, and many soldiers were carrying them like talismans to ward off evil. Dux looked at her angelic countenance, her doe-brown eyes and chestnut hair highlighted golden by the sunrise. With a sigh, he kissed the print reverently and slipped it back into his pocket, "Emperor watch over us."
