BATTLE FOR XANTHIA PRIME

Colonel Karlov was distracted. The Orks he was fighting had reminded him of his first campaign, the Battle for his homeworld, Prandiun, the jewel of Ultramar; and the subsequent formation of his regiment, the Prandiun "Remnants". Granted, that campaign was against the monstrous Tyranids who made the Orks look like harmless beasts of burden, rather than the blood crazed maniacs that they were, but the fighting was the same style. Defending miles of trench against wave after wave of bloodthirsty aliens intent on conquest. He kept thinking about the final battle on Prandiun as his remaining troops of the 23rd and Colonel Grinksi's remaining soldiers of the 10th, fought to hold onto the landing field that they needed to escape. They had made it, just, but only due to the timely arrival of the transports that would carry them to safety. He'd earned the Honorifica Imperialis in that battle, for extreme courage and inspiring leadership. Amongst other things, he had saved the wounded Colonel Grinski from certain death at the hands of two Tyranids Warriors. Beasts that towered over him, almost twice the height of a man. Grinski had died of his wounds after the battle, and Karlov had been given command of the survivors of the two regiments. They were all that remained of the five Prandiun guard regiments that had started the War for Prandiun, barely seven hundred men. That number was halved again when an orbiting hive ship caught one of the two transports in its flailing tentacles and snapped the ship in two.

He was brought back to the present with a crash however as an all too familiar whistling sound filled the air. Before he knew what he was doing he had flung himself flat on the ground in the bottom of the trench, just as the first basilisk shells screamed in. Mud, shrapnel, and his troops fountained up where the shells hit. Men screamed. Shells screamed louder. With every mighty impact, the earth shook, and Karlov wished with all his heart that they had had time to disable the basilisks in the Artillery Park before they had retreated from the last city. Wishing did as much good as it usually did however, and the shells continued to rain down like explosive hail. There was something else raining down now as well. Blood. The basilisk shells were tearing the hastily dug trenches apart, and his men too. Answering fire from the Imperial guns began to return the compliment. After only a few salvoes the Ork firing slackened. Colonel Karlov smiled grimly to himself; the Orks had not yet learned some of the basics of long range combat. Like moving their artillery every now and again, their guns were evidently still where they had been last time, and the Imperial Guns found their range quickly and efficiently. Despite the fact that they were not great at long range, Karlov knew that they were fearsome if they got up close, and he knew that an assault would follow the barrage. As sure as he knew that night would follow this day, even if the days were fairly long on this planet.

As if the Orks had heard his thoughts, the barrage stopped. The earth stopped heaving and bucking too. But it could only mean one thing.

"Everyone on the firing step, now!" He ordered through his master vox. The order was unnecessary, his men had been through this routine time and again, but he gave the order anyway, mainly just to let them know he was alive. All along the three-mile trench, between the sea cliffs and the dense forest that formed the best choke point this part of Xanthia had to offer, men rose from their dugouts. Levelling their lasguns into the drifting smoke and dust covering no mans land in the wake of the bombardment they prepared to face the latest Ork assault. Likely to be one of the most ferocious yet, judging by the bombardment. Before long a great cry went up from somewhere beyond the curtain of smoke obscuring. Then the first Orks came barrelling out of the mist at the Imperial lines. As one, four thousand lasguns opened up. The tremendous crack nearly burst Karlov's eardrums, but he welcomed the sound nonetheless, as he watched the front rank of the Orks disintegrate. Heavy bolters roared, lascannons and lasguns cracked and the distinct krump of frag missiles exploding could be heard. The Orks were killed as fast as they appeared from the mist. Still they came on.

While the Orks had been busy assaulting the Imperial lines, the Imperial artillery had not ceased, but it had gradually crept up behind the Orks, as the gunners gradually reduced their range. The Orks trenches took a severe pounding when the wall of destruction reached them, but the guns kept coming closer and closer to the Orks. Just as the first shells started to land among the rearmost Orks, the barrage ceased to move. Leaving a solid wall of death behind the Ork army, that not many would pass through alive. Meanwhile, the Orks continued to be pummelled from in front. Unable to make any serious headway against the guns of the "Remnants", and unwilling to go back, the Orks became confused and panicky. The Imperials took a fearsome toll on the Orks in those few minutes killing maybe as many as three or four thousand. Colonel Karlov, renowned in the Imperial guard for his timing, had been carefully observing the Orks, and judged that now was the time to launch his counter attack. At his command a company of Hellhound flame tanks sped across several bridges over the Imperial trenches, and on into the Ork horde. Their turrets sweeping left and right as they spewed out white-hot, burning promethium, the Hellhounds inflicted an even more fearsome toll on the now terrified Orks. The aliens closest to the tanks were reduced to nothing but a pile of ash within milliseconds of being engulfed in flame, such was the heat of the Hellhounds main armament. One by one the Hellhounds ran short of fuel for their Inferno cannons. The Orks were still dazed and confused, but they would recover quickly given any breathing space. Ordering the barrage to cease, Karlov led his men over the top.

"FOR PRANDIUN! IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR! CHARGE!"

After that it was just a fearsome close hand melee. No longer being under a withering hail of fire, and embroiled in the bloody hand to hand combat that they loved so much, the Orks fought back ferociously. It was then that the Prandiun "Remnants" suffered the heaviest casualties ever since the fall of their homeworld, but they outnumbered the Orks by now, or so Karlov judged. How that was possible he didn't know, but it appeared to be true. The Orks were supposed to be on this planet in horrendous numbers, and he didn't think they'd suffered that badly so far. He just hoped they didn't have any reserves ready to spring, as that would be a disaster. The fighting was extremely brutal; Karlov himself felled many Orks with his ornate power weapon and plasma pistol. As he rampaged among the green skinned beasts, he suddenly found himself confronted by a monstrous Warboss. For the briefest second he remembered the first warrior that he had confronted and killed in order to reach Colonel Grinski. Refusing to be distracted, he moved to parry a blow from the Warboss's oversized axe. Rather than simply parrying the blow though, his ancient weapon cut the head of the weapon from the haft as it passed straight through the axe. The Ork brought up his similarly oversized gun and let loose at Karlov, but he had seen what was coming and dodged aside. As he dived to avoid a blow from the axe handle that the Ork was now using as a club, he raised his pistol and fired. The shot caught the beast in the shoulder of its gun arm, nearly severing it and causing it to drop the weapon. As the Warboss reared up in pain, Karlov ducked round behind it, and rammed his sword into its back and out through its chest. Unfortunately he didn't seemed to have got anything vital, but before he could wrench the sword free of it, the creature swung around, wrenching the sword free of his hand instead. Caught by surprise, Karlov failed to avoid the incoming blow from the axe handle, which caught his outstretched sword arm. The arm bent at a sickening angle and something went crack. Dazed and in pain, he also failed to keep the creature from grabbing him round the throat with its good arm, and lifting off the ground. It then proceeded to head butt him twice, but as it pulled his head back, to finish him off, he remembered how he got Grinski free of the second Tyranid warrior that had pinned him to the ground with one of its huge claws. He blasted its arm off. Without really thinking about it, he brought his pistol up, which he had somehow kept hold off, pressed it against the creature's arm, and fired. The creature dropped him at once, although the fist remained tight around his throat. Now dropping his pistol for a moment, he wrenched the severed limb from off his neck. The creature was towering over him howling in frustrated agony. Gasping for air, the battle swirling around him, he grabbed his plasma pistol once more, brought it up for one last shot, and put a hole in its torso where its heart should have been.

With the death of the Warboss, the few remaining Orks panicked. With no barrage to hold them back now, they turned and fled. The Imperial Guardsmen simply levelled their lasguns at their retreating enemies and cut them down. None escaped. Struggling to his feet, Karlov retrieved his Sword from the body of the Warboss, and having cut of its head, held it high for all to see.

"Men of Prandiun! You have won a mighty victory! Against all the odds we have triumphed over a foe that outnumbered us! I will keep this head as a reminder of our victory, and let all future commanders of this regiment bear it as I will bear it from now on!" With that speech a great cheer went up from the men. The regiment now only numbered about seven hundred men, but Karlov would have sworn by the Golden Throne that the cheer was louder than when the regiment had numbered four thousand.

Previously in the war, the imperials had suffered a series of defeats at the hands of the Orks, as they made a drive for the capital city, Xanthia Prime. The last easily defensible position in the run up to the capital, was a simple choke point where a dense forest came to within three miles of the some cliffs that fell straight down into the sea. It would have taken the Orks an unacceptable amount of time to get around the forest the other way, giving the defenders ample time to prepare the city and maybe receive reinforcements. So they tried to break through the hastily thrown up defences, and get at the city while it was still virtually defenceless. The Prandiun "Remnants" had been selected to holds the breach despite their relatively small number, because they were renowned for their tenacity in defence. All they had to do was delay the Orks long enough for the city to be adequately for the Orks. The ironic thing was, this wasn't really necessary. No one on the Imperial Command Staff realised, but the Ork force had been all but bled dry in their drive towards the capital. Their attempted attack on the city was simply Ork stubbornness refusing to let them abandon the world defeated. Despite this the Prandiun Remnants would likely still have lost, as they were outnumbered nearly three to one by the Orks. However, the tactical brilliance of Colonel Karlov allowed the Remnants to defeat the Orks, winning the War for Xanthia in a battle meant only to delay defeat.