The 5th Carrusian

by NDG

Lt. Urayev glanced around him in disgust, the ichor-drenched carcasses of the Xeno's churned his stomach, despite the constant weeks of fighting that he and the rest of his men had endured. He had figured he would be used to the foulness of these strange beasts by now. Not so. Swallowing the bile that threatened his abused throat, the young commander latched his chainsword to his belt, and began to gather the remnants of 2nd Platoon.

" Fine battle today, heh Urayev!" The Party Officer attached to the Lieutenant's command squad looked positively happy, a smile spread across his florid features as he wiped some slightly acidic goo off his bolter with a rag. The man was unhinged, Urayev was sure of it. And this man had Jurisdiction over him.

" Yah, Comrade, a fine battle." The Party Officer was seemingly oblivious to sarcasm, had always been. One saving grace then, at the least.

"Fine, fine. Have the Platoon rally immediately. There is still work to be done before this day is over."

Urayev nodded, and set about gathering the scattered 2nd. Technically, Comrade Sergevny was an observer and an advisor, but the Party Officer tended to take control when and as the whim took him. Urayev didn't complain, didn't even care overly much. He never intended to be a career officer, not after what happened the CarrusIV PDF back in '325. 'A pruning of dead wood' it was officially called.

His father and an uncle were two of those 'pruned'. Good officers, damn good ones, lost in a political game that achieved nothing but a once proud force cut off at the neck. The New Order was making damn sure the Defence Force could not rise up against them, as they themselves had used the PDF against the Old Guard. Such are the rewards of loyalty to the Cause. So the likes of Comrade Sergevny had been gained, and men of honour such as Colonel Urayev, Snr had been lost.

Yelling hoarsely at a sargeant nearby, the lieutenant managed to restore some semblance of a fighting unit to the exhausted platoon. He took stock of what this 'fine battle' had cost him and his men. Of his own squad, the LasCannon crew were KIA. Urayev hadn't even time to learn their names, new recruits as they were. Cpl Menev was beside him as usual, smoking and trying remove the muzzle of his melta-gun, it being a lump of molten metal. Sarg. Iranev, the other surviving member of his Command Squad, was still dealing with the wounded at the back of the group of haggard men. Urayev winced slightly at the zap of the Sargeant's laspistol, as he administered final peace.

Of the four squads that he was in command of this morning, only two remained in any strength. The Party Officer of C Squad was the sole survivor of a rash flank attack. Urayev was not totally surprised. B squad had 7 men remaining, including a wounded corporal. D Squad simply ceased to exist. A floating alien pufferball had wiped out the squad, Urayev remembered in loathing. The biologicals in the burst ate away the troopers flesh, very little remaining apart from their weapons. A Squad was the least afflicted, losing only their sargeant. The squad hung their heads in shame, and the Party Officer attached to them was berating them even now. Urayev had saw the Officer kill the sargeant as the squad had retreated before the onslaught of a great alien beast, it's claws slicing through one of the Chimera transports attached to the platoon. Urayev did not blame them for their cowardice. But he knew Sergevny was watching over him, waiting for the crack in moral fibre to show. He managed to continue only because he knew what would befall him if he ran, and the orders he had received this morning.

"Men of 2nd Platoon, B Company, 5th Carrusian Regiment!" he began. Instantly, backs straightened and gazes steadied. There was pride still. They had won, after all. "I commend you on you victory, the Emperor himself thanks you, I am sure! However, there is much yet to achieve." Urayev waited for a few muffled groans to die down. He felt the same way. "We must be moving shortly in support of our Imperial Guard allies. The Valhallan Captain himself has given you all an important message. We are to be integrated with his own Valhallan platoon as it pushes into Volkenstadd!"

" What? You mean we are no longer with the 5th Carrusian?…sir?" the question came from the back of the group, further echoed by the others standing in rough formation.

"That is right, men of the 2nd! As of now we, and our impending reinforcements, have been seconded to the 7th Valhallan Regiment- the Fighting Turrusks!" Urayev had no idea of what a turrusk was.." and as of now, we are part of the mighty Imperial Guard!"

The look of dawning comprehension, followed by outrage, that spread acoss Party Officer Comrade Sergevny's drink-ruined face was one that caused Urayev to smile for many months to come. The New Order had no sway over him and his men now. They belonged to the Emperor.