Elysians - Prologue by BrookM

Galipoli, a theta class desert world situated along the Eastern Fringes. An insignificant world with no real values. Nothing but a world of infertile dirt that has to import almost everything. While the temperatures are not as unbearable as say, Tallarn or Armageddon, at some point the climate took a turn for worse and messed with the eco system, ruining it forever. With no crops to produce or factories to produce anything of use the Imperium asked something else: manpower. If not for the Imperial Guard then for the Munitorum labour corps, who is ever in need of unskilled labourers who could use a shovel and pickaxe in preparation of war, or to aid in the reconstruction of places ruined by it. Other than that it is a useless world.

Or was it really?

It was in fact not useless enough to wage a war over. When the planetary governor and his coterie of closest advisors decided to secede from the Imperium it took the Imperium some time to take notice. Three hundred and fifty-nine years to be precise. The rebels had all but forgotten about retribution and the statues of saints and angels were just statues, not reminders of the galactic empire they once belonged to. They were carefree and happy to have forgotten about the past.

But the Imperium hadn't. Like the cogs and gears of a massive clock the Imperium lumbered into action, slowly forming a response to the rebellion. Three hundred and fifty-nine years after the rebels denounced the Imperium did the fleet of the 44th Imperial Army Group tear itself into real space and with it, announce the demise of the world.

Several months had passed since the fleet made its opening moves and secured high orbit, the armies in transit were quickly deployed and thrown into action. Advance was slow but steady, something the general staff favoured. But as with all operations there would at some point come a fork in the road, with a choice. Either the Imperials could continue their slow advance and bleed the enemy out over the course of several more months, or risk it all with some mad plan that would work and end the conflict in weeks, but at the possible cost of several companies of men. After several nights of consideration the choice was made and the command staff decided to go with the latter suggestion. The loss of a regiment or several companies was favourable in the long run. There were more worlds to conquer and more systems to bring back into the fold. Reinforcements could always be called in! Plans were drawn up, a target was chosen and the operation was given form.

The operation was to be called Thunder Eagle and the regiment destined to be the decoy was the Elysian 212th Drop Regiment, a fresh regiment mostly made up of new recruits. Their loss would be felt, but not as severe if a more veteran regiment were to be committed to the coming operation. Their target would be the insignificant city of Arhem, which had nothing going for itself but being smack dab on top of a major road network that allows for good accessibility to other, more important cities that were already within reach of the Imperials. But now, Arhem wasn’t that insignificant to the Imperials after all. At least, that was what the Elysians were supposed to make believe. Attack and hold that city until relieved, making the enemy believe that the main thrust would be coming from that sector and not the north and south. With a little luck the enemy would fall for it and send in reinforcements, sapping their defences elsewhere. And if the Elysians were to fail, there was always a backup army at the ready to take the city the good old fashioned way: by foot and iron tread.

+ + +

Temporary airbase Epsilon, some one hundred and twenty kilometres away from Arhem..

Some seventy Valkyries sat on the concrete runways there, milling around them were their industrious crews and impatient cargoes: over five hundred Elysian drop troopers of the 212th Drop regiment, who were waiting for the green light. Adjacent to the runways were the smaller landing fields where the air support wings were also waiting for the green light. Twenty Vultures and seven special fire support Valkyries were prepped and ready, their crews going through final checks while ground crew was busy removing final weapon safeties.

Operation Thunder Eagle was all but ready to go.

*click-clack*

'I hate waiting.' Drop trooper first class Kyle Drake was leaning against the hull of his squads designated Valkyrie, casually opening and closing his lighter as he looked left and right. He had the visor of his dark grey helmet raised, his grey eyes speaking of volumes of boredom.

*click-clack*

'So you keep saying every ten odd minutes Kyle.' Standing next to Drake was drop trooper first class Elise Konig, a wiry brown eyed and blonde haired girl of no more than twenty, who like many of the others, including Drake, was fresh from boot camp and still sick from warp transit and debarkation.

*click-clack*

'I do? Must be really boring if you keep track of that.' Drake slapped his visor down, preferring it over the bright sun beating down on them. The sudden deployment just a day ago did little to help acclimatize to the conditions. Yes it was a desert, no it wasn’t stinking hot. The glaring sun was the only outright unpleasant thing really. The sun and something else..

*click-clack*

'Yes. Please stop that already.'

*click-clack*

'Stop what?'

*click-*

'That!' Konig slapped the lighter from the hand of Drake with a scowl.

'Sorry Elise, I just hate waiting.'

Konig let out a frustrated sigh and stooped to pick up the lighter, wiping it on her grey jump uniform before handing it back to Drake, who pocketed it.

'Sorry, I hate waiting as well but could you please stop with the nervous motions and sounds? Take an example from John for a moment, he hasn’t made a sound since we got here.'

Sitting opposite of them was drop trooper first class John Byron, who was sitting in the shade of the Valkyrie's wing penning away at something. His helmet lay at his side and his brown crew-cut hair had faint traces of sweat. If he had any discomfort he had yet to give indication.

'Writing home John?'

'Home isn't there anymore, remember Kyle? I heard that while we were in transit some seventy odd years have passed.'

Drake chuckled, followed by a sigh. 'Damn, that girl I dated is a damn granny by now.'

Byron shook his head and continued to write, the random thoughts in his mind turning to lines and paragraphs as he penned them down. Who knows, maybe this could be something good? Not as good as Sejanus or Godard, but maybe somewhere along their lines. He suppressed a smile at that though, still wet behind the ears and already thinking of writing memoirs about his exploits.

'An Ode to the Crusade? Sounds fancy John.'

Byron looked up, noticing that Konig was peeking over his shoulder at his paper.

'Never figured you a poet.'

Drake joined them, letting out a chuckle as he saw the title. He had the lighter in his hand again but relented against opening and shutting it.

'John isn't just a poet, he's an educated man. While I was busy slapping girls on the butt and working an assembly line John here was getting his head filled with good stuff for a better future.'

Konig playfully gave Byron a punch to the head. 'Damned stupid if you ask me. Education means not serving. You must really be having a good reason for this if you are here instead of home.'

'Home was a dead end Elise, just ask Kyle. I'd rather be out here, with my buddies than back there, boring people with history.'

Senior sergeant Striker let out a shout as he moved down the line of Valkyries, interrupting any further conversation.

'On your feet! Up! Up! Up! Come on you jokers, get to it! We have an assault to spearhead!'

All around them the waiting drop troopers got into action, gathering their kit and putting on their grav-chutes. Byron got to his feet and motioned for Konig to turn around, Drake helping him put the bulky grav-chute on the girls back. With a click it attacked to her armour. Konig took a step forward and moved her arms and neck, checking the weight. She gave them a thumbs up.

'Come on Konig! You're with us remember!'

Sergeant Dorn called her over, giving her chute a final personal check before shoving her in line with the rest of her squad.

'Elise, we'll see you down there okay? Hang in there!'

She gave them both a thumbs up before she got pulled into the Valkyrie by the gunner, who strapped her into the bench and slammed the controls of the ramp, letting it hiss shut.

'Just you and me now bro. I'll see you on the ground man.'

Byron shook the hand of Drake.

'Oh no you don't Kyle, we're going to get down there and we are going to kick some ass.'

'And then some!'

They let go and did a fist pound. Several other squad members joined in with the comradely display and they all let out a whoop of joy as they lined up at the ramp of their own transport, helping one another with putting on the grav-chute.

'We're gonna kick ass, take names and kill them all!'

The squad roared in agreement at Drake’s bold statement. Sergeant Striker stuck his head out the Valkyrie, a smile visible from below his visor.

'Come on ladies, in the bird already! I want to partake in this war before it is over.'

Byron and Drake got on board, the hatch hissing shut behind them and with a lurch the Valkyrie took off, to the designated drop zone.

+ + +

'And there they go Mary.'

'Yeah I see them, armed and ready?'

'Check, check and triple check on that, weapons are armed and we are ready to go.'

Junior pilot Mary MacTavish checked her avionics a final time before she clamped the breathing mask onto her helmet and slid the visor down. The electronics projected onto it winked into life and she saw that her bird was in the green. Her weapons operator, junior technician Gavin Pierce did likewise, the weapon systems reading green on his visor, along with a reticule for aiming the weapons. He gave her a thumbs up to announce that he was ready.

'Let's rock 'em like a hurricane Pierce.'

She kicked the engine into life and waited for the all-clear signal from the crewman standing besides the landing pad. After a moment he gave two thumbs up. Mary gave him one of her own and with that her Vulture dubbed the "Valkyrie" lifted off, on its way to help the drop troopers with their operation.