Chapter Ninety-Eight: Encounter Battle

"Darkness descends upon Bartek II. Evil walks the land. May the light of the Imperium disperse the shadows, and may the Emperor strike down the vile and save the loyal."

Onboard the *Imperial Truth*, Wang Ming read the astropathic message. Judging by the contents, he could infer that the situation on Bartek II was dire. Yet, there was little to be done; the fleet was still at least a day away. Wang Ming comforted himself with the thought that one day should not make too much of a difference.

"We have received an astropathic transmission from Imperial reinforcements. We know their arrival is now only a matter of time."

General Hector stood upon the high platform of the Governor’s Palace, addressing the Planetary Defense Force (PDF) soldiers gathered in the plaza below. He shared the good news of the impending arrival of Imperial aid with all the defenders of Neller. Upon hearing the first bit of positive news in days, a thunderous cheer erupted from the ranks. Help was finally coming; it had not been easy.

However, this was no time for celebration. While reinforcements were on the way, the control of the starport on Bartek II remained contested. It was not in the hands of the Imperium, nor was it held by the Chaos cultists. To be precise, while the cultists had occupied the entrance to the starport, the authorization codes remained with the Planetary Governor. Without his consent, the cultists could not access the facility.

Upon learning of the reinforcements, the Governor and General Hector immediately drafted a plan to recapture the starport, hoping to secure it before the fleet arrived so that they might activate its facilities to receive the incoming forces. To execute this, General Hector mobilized every available unit, preparing to march toward Dinanli to join the 25th Infantry Regiment.

To transport five thousand child soldiers to the front lines at Dinanli, every functional vehicle in Neller was requisitioned—agricultural haulers, civilian cars, and even bicycles were pressed into service. The convoy, carrying five thousand souls, departed Neller and began its march along the highway.

The convoy was massive, yet it was armored by only a handful of Chimera armored transports that had recently arrived from Dinanli to escort them.

"Arger, look! Look! It’s a Chimera!"

In the cargo bed of an agricultural hauler at the front of the convoy, a young girl poked her head out, pointing excitedly at the Chimera ahead. She called out to the boy beside her, wriggling her body in an attempt to see over the edge. The ill-fitting flak armor she wore clattered against her other gear, creating a chaotic, metallic symphony. The boy stood up at her call, and soon, all the child soldiers in the bed were peering out, pointing and chatting with excitement. A veteran PDF soldier—one who had actually seen combat in recent months—watched the boys and girls with a faint, weary smile. Before being conscripted, these children had been nothing more than students in local schools, with little exposure to the machines of war.

As the veteran reached for a cigarette and fumbled for a light, a sudden explosion shattered the air. A wave of heat rolled over his head, followed by the terrified screams of the children.

The veteran spat out his unlit cigarette, grabbed his autogun, and vaulted from the transport to assess the situation. He looked ahead to see the lead Chimera reduced to a smoldering pile of scrap metal.

"Ambush! Disembark and form a defensive line!"

The veteran roared the order and jumped from the vehicle, knowing he had to coordinate these children. They scrambled after him, clutching their newly issued autoguns and seeking cover.

"Hurry! Check your weapons! Prepare for combat!"

As the children huddled behind him, he shouted instructions, urging them to disengage their safeties and prepare to fire. Hearing the voice of an experienced soldier gave them a semblance of stability, and they began to execute the training they had received. Soldiers from other vehicles followed suit, leaping out to face the sudden skirmish.

"The enemy has heavy weapons, or something else that blasphemes the Emperor," the veteran muttered to himself, watching the smoke rise from the wreckage. He looked toward the only remaining Chimera, which was desperately rotating its turret to locate the source of the fire.

But just as the turret moved, a standard-issue PDF rocket struck the Chimera’s side armor. The vehicle was destroyed instantly; its ammunition reserves detonated, blowing the turret into the air and vaporizing the crew within in a flash of intense heat.

Watching the destruction, the veteran felt a cold wave of despair. Those Chimeras had been their only significant armored support. However, the rocket fire had revealed the attackers' positions. Led by the veterans, the child soldiers opened fire. The air filled with the deafening roar of autogun rounds and the crashing of explosions.

Loyalists and cultists clashed along the highway. Some of the children, overwhelmed by fear, fired wildly and aimlessly until their officers barked orders, forcing them to regain control.

This was the first time these children of a civilized world had faced the reality of war. Before this, they had only fired their weapons at targets a few times, and rarely with any marksmanship to speak of.

Just as they focused their efforts on the cultists, a betrayal tore through their ranks. Several "veterans" suddenly ripped off their uniforms to reveal the marks of Chaos, turning their autoguns on the children standing nearby. Those who had been focused on the enemy were cut down by their own comrades.

This treachery was short-lived, however, as the remaining loyal veterans quickly turned their weapons on the turncoats, sending them to the Warp to face the masters they served.

The cultists were soon overwhelmed by the superior numbers of the child soldiers, but the cost was heavy. The road was littered with the bodies of children, their ill-fitting armor punctured by lethal holes.

"Collect the fallen. Take their gear. Gather the bodies together," the veteran ordered, his voice heavy. "We have no time for proper burials now. We will return for them after we win. They are loyal servants of the Imperium; their souls belong to the Golden Throne."

The children obeyed, clearing the bodies of their friends. They stripped the gear from the fallen and laid them in rows. As they moved the corpses, seeing the familiar faces and the eyes that had lost their light, many broke down in tears. This was their first encounter with death.

"Jenna."

Arger whispered the name, his voice trembling as he looked at the body of the girl. She had been his best friend, his companion since childhood. They had grown up on a ranch in Neller, dreaming of the future while looking out over the beautiful green pastures outside the city. They were supposed to have lived happy, peaceful lives together. Now, she was dead, and the boy could only weep over her cold remains.

Arger cradled her body, sobbing uncontrollably. The others saw his grief but left him be; everyone knew of their bond. People continued their grim task, piling weapons onto the trucks. Only when his tears had run dry and the veteran signaled the departure did Arger finally stand. He picked up the girl's body and placed it with the others, staring at her pale face and dull eyes for a long moment before walking toward the transport.

Arger gripped his autogun tightly. The innocence of the ranch boy was gone from his eyes, replaced by a hollow, cold flicker of vengeance. He looked at his weapon. He would avenge her.