Frozen Tundra

Weather: Light Blizzard, Moderate Wind
Predicted Temperature: -47˚C
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Hannah took a thermos from insider her great-coat and took a quick sip of lukewarm caffeine to jeep herself awake. They had worked the very moment they had arrived digging their make-shift like. To their surprise, they had arrived much earlier than expected, allowing them to construct a firmer defense than planned. It was her turn to watch the horizon and she had to fight her sleepy-urges in order to stay vigilant. The snow was sticky and for the fifth time the private wiped her combat goggles clean. Her squad mates were sleeping quietly behind her, thermal blankets pulled over their entire bodies.

An eerie silence hovered over the plain; the only sounds were conjured by the powerful winds. A strong gust forced Hannah to catch her scarf before it flew off her face. She reached for the ground to make sure that her lasgun was there and was comforted when her hand made contact with the metal stock. Suddenly, something caught her eye, but after blinking several times the nineteen-year-old trooper realized that it was simply her imagination.

The low-pitched whine of a Vendetta threw her focus upwards.

Storm trooper regiments had been buzzing overhead all night and no news had come on the estimated time of arrival on the other sections of the battle group which left the 126th completely exposed. It would’ve been a like if she said she wasn’t afraid.

The light of an illuminated torch caused her to jump and quickly draw her nearby lasgun. The dark silhouette continued forward and Hannah made sure to keep her gun poised on the approaching figure. When the person came into view, the young private saw the black number thirteen on his helmet and let the nervous tension drain out of her body; it was just Andre.

Quietly climbing into their trench, the sergeant ran a gloved hand across the lens of his goggles. Several minutes of silence followed in which neither of them talked, it was only after Hannah offered him some of her caffeine that he pulled off his scarf. “Bullocks, its cold... Not even Cassadore was this bad.”

Hannah wasn’t quite sure what to say to him, quietly taking the thermos when he was finished.

Andre looked down at all the sleeping forms. When he was done counting, the sergeant pulled a data-slate from his shoulder-bag and handed it to the private. “Hourly check-in, command wants to make sure that you guys are still alive.” She nodded and punched in the numbers.

Josef emerged from the autocannon’s position and signaled that Hannah’s shift was over.

The first thing that came to Hannah’s mind was a fresh cup of caffeine and she sub-consciously tugged Andre to follow her. Squad Nine had dug a small bunker into the ground which was covered by a heavy canvas supported by metal re-bars. Inside were boxes of ammunition, MREs, and the two-man autocannon. It was somewhat warm inside which allowed them to take off their headgear.

It was still very dark outside and, according to her chronometer; it would still be several hours before dawn. She sat down next to the veteran on top of a crate of autocannon shells. Seeing him politely smiling at her, the private smiled back. An awkward silence hovered over them in which Hannah caught herself staring at her superior.

Andre chuckled, “You got something to say?”

“Oh – um – no...” Hannah turned away flustered and somewhat embarrassed, Oh, hell... what am I doing?

“It’s okay.” He gently placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her so that she could see him. “I know you’ve got something on your mind. I’m a vet, Hannah, you learn to see these kinds of things.”

The dark-blonde headed girl turned light-headed, “Are you really from Brivana?”

Andre smiled and simply nodded.

Hannah leaned towards him but didn’t stop herself, shivering when he didn’t shy away. There was a long, drawn-out pause in which Andre’s sincere brown eyes met hers. In a slow and dragging instant she gently kissed him, smiling when she saw his flustered cheeks.

The sergeant smiled briefly, responded with a peck on her forehead, and gathered his belongings. “It’s best if I should go. Emperor forbid, an attack would leave my squad leaderless.”

The private simply smiled and, with a genial nod, Andre left.

He quickly made his way out of the dugout and pulled his goggles over his eyes, a tiny shiver went down his spine when he pictured Hannah in the back of his mind.

The weather had eased somewhat, leaving a veil of darkness in the absence of the sheets of snow. It felt awkward to him, having Carson’s lasgun in place of his favored chainsword. However, it did seem necessary for him to have some type of long-range weapon if he were ambushed. Andre balanced the weapon comfortably on his shoulder as he slowly trudged through the knee-deep snow.

An imperial aircraft buzzed loudly overhead and the Valhallan sergeant stopped to listen. But there was something that didn’t quite sound right... When the vector-thrust impulse disappeared into the distance, Andre focused hard on the noises around him.

And there it was: a low, echoing rumble. A feeling told him that it was bad, but before he could fully react a powerful explosion threw him off of his feet. A loud ringing deafened his hearing and a shocking blackness overcame him as he slipped out of consciousness.
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There was almost no time to react. Spilling a cup of warm caffeine, Hannah rushed out of the dugout with her lasgun on auto. Indiscernible orders called out in screams muffled my scarves was all she could hear, hitting the trench wall as another volley of artillery shells began to rain down from the sky. As the barrage continued undaunted, the young Hannah held one of her hands on her helmet to keep it securely on her head.

A shell hit nearby and Hannah’s ears began to ring, looking up to see Mina pointing in the direction of the northeast face. It took the private a long time to realize that the northeast was where they needed to be aiming, Talila grabbed her by her loose sleeve and pulled her against the opposite wall.

Hannah heard a loud whistle and turned just in time to see an explosive shell land at her feet.

“Lucky!” Talila said kicking it away. “If that wasn’t a dud we’d all be dead!”

The loud ringing had subsided and Hannah could now hear Mina screaming at the top of her lungs to hit cover, remain in cover, and stay in position until she gave the order to move. Minutes felt like hours and, finally, there was silence.

“Is everybody alright?” Mina called. “Is anybody injured? Roll call!”

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

The entire squad was present and were surprisingly unscathed.

Quickly, Mina drew her thermal magnoculars and pointed them towards the northeast. The sergeant scanned quickly and her silence was not reassuring. Something was going on and it was not good news. She slowly crawled down to the rest of her squad. “I’m not sure how, but the chaos battle-force managed to move in last night. It looks like the main group is already here.”

Alisa stepped forward, wiping her goggles. “But, Mina, how did they sneak up on us like that? Wouldn’t the 63rd or 29th have seen them? They were flying sorties all night!”

Their superior slowly shook her head. “I don’t know, but you guys will learn that every enemy has their own secrets. The tyranids did it, and the archenemy is no exception. In some cases they may even be worse since they can actually think.”

Hannah kept her gun held tightly in her arms, more for a feeling of security rather than an expression of combat readiness. Then her thoughts traveled to Andre and she quietly wondered if he had survived the barrage just as she had. For some reason she had an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

It was strangely quiet. The barrage had ended just as fast as it had begun. Squad Nine was now up and active, each person was doing something to occupy their nervous energy as Mina fiddled with her comm-bead in order for it to work. She had been working on that infernal piece of junk for over an hour, and she seemed determined to find out what the plan of action was.

Hannah was sitting quietly on the trench floor with her lasgun cradled in her lap. Sleep had come on and off, greatly affecting her ability to focus, she was afraid that it was going to get her killed. The small thermos of caffeine in her great-coat was empty. Her body muscles were tense and a nervous air hung around each of them.

The demolition officer sat next to her private comrade, a plasma IED held in her right hand. “Try to relax, Hannah.” She said fiddling with the charge’s wiring. “Your muscles might freeze in combat if you don’t. It’d be pretty bad if you couldn’t move.” There was a small pause in which Hannah nodded. “So, do you have a thing for Andre?”

“What?” She sat up slightly startled, “What’d you say?”

“It’s okay,” Talila continued to mess with the charge. “You don’t have to hide it. You kissed him didn’t you?”

The private smiled underneath her scarf but did not respond.

“I knew it.” She said with a chuckle. “Congratulations on breaking the unbreakable man!”

Mina smiled when she overheard, standing next to them with her defective vox-bead. “I wouldn’t say that quite yet, Talila. Our little Hannah still has a long way to go before we can say she broke him.” The sergeant pulled her goggles off so that Hannah could see her strangely violet eyes. “But, I do admit that something about you does click with him. What it is, I’m not quite sure.”
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Some inaudible noise forced Andre awake. The moment he began to regain his sense, a sharp and throbbing pain pushed angrily against the side of his head like a caged lion. He slowly opened his eyes, taking several minutes to let his sight adjust to his dark surroundings. Carson was nearby with her back towards him.

This wouldn’t be the first time she’d saved his life.

He tried to sit up, but Carson quickly stopped him. “Don’t, just yet, Andre. You need to lie down for now.”

The darkness finally subsided, revealing the surroundings of Squad Thirteen’s dugout. “What happened?”

“Chaos arrived late last night.” She said over her shoulder. “Vasily found you, and from the looks of it, you were knocked out when a shell exploded next to you. Consider yourself lucky.” Carson held up his helmet, a prominent dent could be seen on its side. “Your helmet prevented a fatal injury. All you received was a major concussion.”

Death passed over him again, just like the hundreds of times before...

“Are Hannah and Mina alright?”

“Yes sir. Mina checked in about half an hour ago. No casualties.” The girl turned, holding a mug and stirring its contents. “This tonic should get you back on your feet by tomorrow.”

Andre forced the liquid down his throat as Carson held the mug to his lips, it was thick and felt like syrup. She put the cup next to where he was lying, reminding him that he should get rest and return to command the next day. Watching her climb out of the dugout, he let out an elongated sigh.

Minutes turned to hours, but sleep did not come. His mind wandered, unsure of where it should settle. There was a plethora of concerns that orbited his thoughts. He delicately touched the bandage that was tightly wrapped around his head and he wondered if that was the cause of his headache and not the jumbled images in his brain.

The tarp had been pulled off of the lascannon, revealing a powerful white and gray painted heavy weapon. A crate of charged las-packs had been pried open and one already connected to the cannon’s receptacle in heated anticipation. A battle would soon erupt and Andre and a very bad feeling about it festering at the bottom of his stomach. Something just didn’t quite feel right.

It was obvious that thousands would die.

He struggled to sit up, grunting in pain as he did.

How many hours had he booked with the guard? How man minutes had he dedicated to defend the Imperium? If his calculations were correct, and he couldn’t be sure because of his injury, Andre had spent a little over two-million minutes serving in the Imperial Guard. The night hours felt long and drawn-out. The sergeant still couldn’t completely wrap his mind around the fact that he had lost an entire day passed out on the trench floor.

Then he thought of Hannah. Such a young and bright girl... The first person he wanted to harbor a special connection with in a long time. Her beauty was absolutely stunning and her sparkling eyes were something he would not soon forget. It was then he decided to take up the responsibility of ensuring the nineteen-year-old private’s safety.

An ambitious goal... but something ambitious was exactly what he felt he needed.

Ignoring Carson’s recommendation, Andre forced himself out of the make-shift cot. All of his equipment was spread across a nearby table. The data-slate from his bag sat untouched nearby, spending a day knocked-out meant a day without crucial news. He took the bottle of rhazvod on the table and drank a sip while the slate buzzed into life. A warm alcoholic shiver shot down his spine.

Several messages were left unread. The first two were orders from command to initiate an immediate combat alert, but that was obviously already accomplished in the after math of that barrage. The final mess was good news: The armor divisions were approximately a dozen kilometers out and would, with a huge amount of luck, would arrive early the next morning.

Andre emptied the bottle with a long, quick gulp, dressing into his scarves before walking out into his squad’s trench. Carson immediately approached him, but he held up his hand to stop her. “No need. I’ll be fine. If I die as a result of this concussion, I’ll be sure to tell the Emperor it wasn’t your fault.” He took the dry rhazvod bottle and threw it into the fog.

Some of his troopers looked strangely at him.

Vasily waved them off. “It’s a superstition of his. Luck.” The heavy weapons soldier sat nearby loading his shotgun.

Luck...

You bet like hell you need luck. Everything can change in the blink of an eye.