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Gerard　Bergen’s　prayers。
Reports　started　coming　through　on　the　landline。　With　Karavassa　and　Tyrellis　securely　held　and
protecting　Imperial　supply　lines；　Killian’s　12th　Heavy　Infantry　Division　had　pushed　forward；
storming　the　ruined　fortress　at　Balkar；　capturing　it；　and　converting　it　into　a　front…line　stronghold。
The　fighting　had　been　heavy　there；　and　the　casualty　figures　were　high；　hinting　at　a　much　heavier　ork
presence　closer　to　the　site　of　the　general’s　ultimate　objective。　But　Killian　succeeded　all　the　same；
and　the　forward　base　so　vital　to　supporting　the　final　leg　of　the　expedition　was　firmly　and　fully
established。　Those　officers　with　a　pessimistic　bent　predicted　massive　greenskin　retaliation；　but；　for
now；　Hadron；　Karavassa；　Tyrellis　and　Balkar　were　all　back　in　Imperial　hands　after　almost　forty
years　of　enemy　occupation。　The　final　stage　of　the　Operation　Thunderstorm　could　commence　at　last。
Bergen　received　all　this　news　with　a　feeling　of　great　relief。　He　was　even　more　relieved　when　the
10th　Armoured　Division’s　new　instructions　came　through　from　Hadron　Base　shortly　after　dawn　on
the　sixteenth　day。　General　deViers　ordered　Bergen’s　forces　—　minus　an　adequate　garrisoning　force
—　to　press　east　from　Karavassa；　heading　straight　for　Balkar　with　all　possible　speed。　Once　there；
they　would　link　up　with　elements　from　the　other　divisions　and　await　the　general’s　arrival。　DeViers
would　personally　lead　them　out　into　the　Hadar　region；　to　the　foothills　of　the　Ishawar　range；　for　the
final　phase　of　the　operation。
Talking　directly　to　Bergen　over　the　landline；　the　old　man　sounded　practically　ecstatic；　like　an
over…stimulated　child　on　the　night　before　Emperor’s　Day。　Perhaps　he　sensed　his　long…sought
immortality　waiting　just　beyond　his　fingertips。　He　would　find　The　Fortress　of　Arrogance；　whatever
was　left　of　it；　and　the　operation　would　enter　its　closing　stage。　The　Mechanicus　would　fire　a　beacon
into　the　upper　atmosphere　to　signal　their　position。　A　lifter　would　then　descend　from　The　Scion　of
Tharsis　to　haul　the　holy　machine　from　the　desert　sands　and　lift　it　back　into　space。　Safely　aboard　the
Reclamator　craft；　The　Fortress　of　Arrogance　would　be　restored　to　its　former　glory　during　transit　to
the　Armageddon　system。　There；　it　would　be　presented　to　Commissar　Yarrick；　and　he　would　ride　it
out　onto　the　battlefields　of　Armageddon　Prime；　rousing　the　spirits　of　his　tired　soldiers；　inspiring　in
them　a　glorious　new　strength。　Thus　uplifted；　they　would　roll　out　to　crush　the　foe。
It　sounded　wonderful；　and　in　Bergen’s　heart　of　hearts；　he　hoped　it　would　be　so；　but　the　voice　in
his　head　still　held　to　the　certainty　that　it　was　nothing　but　a　pretty　dream。　Things　would　not　come　to
pass　that　way。
Thirty…eight　years；　he　thought。　To　imagine　that　she　would　still　be　there…
The　moment　General　deViers　closed　the　vox…link　from　the　other　end；　Bergen　sent　out　a　call　to
his　regimental　commanders。　When　he　gave　them　their　updated　orders；　all　three　sounded　genuinely
glad　to　hear　that　they　would　be　on　the　move　again　within　hours。　Colonel　Vinnemann　in　particular
expressed　his　relief　in　no　uncertain　terms。　Bergen　had　considered　ordering　the　man　to　remain　here；
convinced　that　it　would　be　the　best　thing　for　his　health。　But　he　knew　Vinnemann　would　only　have
railed　against　him；　seeing　it　as　the　ultimate　betrayal。　The　man　was　a　tanker　through　and　through；　just
as　Bergen　had　once　been；　and　Bergen　knew　that；　for　any　real　tanker；　nothing　beat　riding　out　in　your
crate；　treads　chewing　up　the　dirt；　the　hearty　roar　of　a　promethium　engine　vibrating　through　your
whole　body。　So　Vinnemann　would　stay　in　command　of　his　regiment　despite　his　suffering；　and
Captain　Immrich　would　be　there　to　step　in　if　needed。
The　regimental　commanders　broke　the　link　to　pass　the　new　orders　on　to　their　executive　officers
and　company　commanders。　From　these　men；　the　news　filtered　down　to　everyone　in　the　base。
70
Soon；　Karavassa　was　buzzing　with　preparations　as　the　10th　Armoured　Division　prepared　to　roll
out　once　again。
In　all　the　scurrying　around；　the　loading；　the　refuelling；　the　last…minute　checks；　and　everything　else
that　went　on　prior　to　deployment；　few　men　spared　a　thought　for　the　fate　of　those　companies　that　had
mysteriously　disappeared　on　that　first　fateful　day。　Some　men　did。　Kochatkis　Vinnemann　was　one　of
them。　Despite　having　troubles　enough　of　his　own；　he　prayed　regularly　for　the　souls　of　Lieutenant
Gossefried　van　Droi　and　his　men；　convinced　that；　after　so　many　days　without　word　or　sign；　they　had
perished。
As　he　rolled　out　of　Karavassa　at　the　head　of　the　81st　Armoured　Regiment；　the　long…suffering
colonel　could　not　have　guessed　that；　just　ten　days’　journey　to　the　southeast　of　his　position；
Gossefried’s　Gunheads　were　doing　their　best　to　avoid　exactly　that。
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CHAPTER　TEN
Colonel　Stromm　was　a　man　of　his　word。　He　embraced　the　Gunheads　as　if　they　had　always　been　part
of　his　outfit；　and　it　pleased　Lieutenant　van　Droi　greatly；　because；　though　he　admitted　it　to　no　one；　he
had　harboured　grave　doubts　about　placing　his　men　and　machines　at　the　disposal　of　a　man　he　had
only　just　met。　There　were　those　in　the　upper　ranks　who　might　have　said　he　knew　all　he　needed　to
about　the　colonel。　He　had　seen　Stromm　turn　aside　certain　death；　after　all；　and　there　were　surely　few
better　measures　of　a　man　than　that；　but　an　officer’s　performance　in　combat　gave　few　clues；　if　any；　as
to　how　he　would　command　on　the　move。　Then　there　was　Golgotha　herself　to　consider。　She　was　an
enemy　that　couldn’t　be　fought。　Her　endless　sands　ground　away　at　the　Cadians’　morale；　and　the　more
time　they　spent　crossing　them；　the　more　they　seemed　to　stretch　forever。
Van　Droi　knew　his　tanks　were　slowing　the　whole　column　down。　The　Chimeras　were　much
faster；　and　the　Thirty…Sixers　were　faster　still　at　top　speed；　but　without　the　tanks；　the　column　would
have　made　an　easy　target　for　greenskin　marauders。　Colonel　Stromm　kept　everyone　moving　together；
with　the　exception　of　the　Chimeras　he　sent　to　scout　ahead　in　shifts。　Did　it　frustrate　him　that　the
Leman　Russ　could　barely　manage　thirty　kilometres　an　hour？　wondered　van　Droi。　If　so；　he　didn’t
show　it。
For　days；　the　tired；　dirty；　ragged　column　had　pressed　north…east　over　rolling　dunes　and；
gradually；　the　landscape　began　to　change；　becoming　rockier　and　more　uneven　in　stages。　Was　the
change　in　terrain　a　good　sign？　Van　Droi　wasn’t　sure。　If　it　meant　they　were　nearing　high　ground；　it
certainly　didn’t　show。　The　horizon　to　the　north…east　remained　choked　in　a　pink　haze。　He　saw　no
jutting　spurs　of　rock；　no　distant　hints　of　a　towering　mountain　range。
The　mood　of　the　men　was　as　dark　as　the　mud…coloured　sky　and　getting　darker　all　the　time。　Little
communication　passed　from　tank　to　tank。　Almost　a　dozen　of　van　Droi’s　men　had　taken　seriously　ill；
and　the　number　was　three　times　greater　among　Stromm’s　infantry。　There　were　two　medics　with　The
Fighting　98th；　two　who　had　survived　the　dreadful　onslaught　at　the　crash　site。　They　took　a　look　at
van　Droi’s　sick；　consulted　with　each　other；　and　told　him　that　at　least　three　of　the　twelve　would　be
dead　within　a　day。　Nothing　could　be　done　to　save　them。　The　dust　had　poisoned　them。　Liver；　kidneys；
lungs；　everything　was　shutting　down。　The　other　nine　would　almost　certainly　follow　soon　afterwards
if　they　didn’t　get　specialist　medical　care。　With　hopes　of　finding　Exolon　having　dwindled　to　almost
nothing；　that　didn’t　seem　probable。　Van　Droi’s　anger　and　frustration　got　the　better　of　him　a　few
times；　and　he　vented　inside　the　turret　of　his　tank；　where　his　shouts　and　curses　were　drowned　out　by
the　rumble　of　the　engine。
Colonel　Stromm　made　a　difficult　decision　regarding　the　seriously　ill；　he　withheld　their　water　and
provisions。　There　was　nothing　to　be　gained　by　spending　scarce　resources　on　men　who　simply
weren’t　going　to　last　much　longer。　This；　of　course；　did　not　sit　well　with　friends　of　the　dying　men。
There　were　sharp　protestations　that　came　near　to　violence；　but　the　platoon　leaders　cracked　down
hard。
Van　Droi　didn’t　judge　Stromm　for　the　extremity　of　the　measure。　Stromm　had　given　him　a
chance　to　object；　but；　to　a　practical　man　like　van　Droi；　it　made　perfect；　if　unpleasantly　harsh；　sense。
Ultimately；　the　two　medics　resolv