Deployment

The Conscript laughed along with his friends as their dropship headed towards the city. For some reason, their Commisar glared at them and muttered something about 'young fools'. The Conscript didn't understand, and looked forward to proving his faith in his Emperor and worth to the Imperial Guard's righteous 3rd Makarian Brigadiers. Then, something slammed into the side of the ship, followed by more impacts.
The Conscript's world became a screaming ball of wind, his friends from basic training and earlier ripped out of the dropship when the Xenos' volley ripped its door from the hull. His chair began to be ripped from the wall, but the Commisar reached out and grabbed him by the arm, holding him in.

"Push the release!"
The Conscript mindlessly followed the Commisar's orders, and released himself from his chair, which tumbled out into the ruined city. The dropship crashed into an open space, and the Conscript lay stunned while the Commisar roused the remaining men to their feet.

"On your feet! Your Emperor is relying on you!"

The platoon had been sixty men strong, now only twenty remained from the disastrous crash. The Conscript found someone's lasgun lying on the ground, and he fumbled frantically with the power pack until he was sure the weapon was loaded. Flicking off the safety, he ran out into the open field and took stock of his surroundings. Black smoke swirled around him, making him choke and his eyes run. The smell of burning oil and flesh enveloped his senses, and over the screams of the dying he could hear the low rumble of other dropships descending. Looking to the sky, he saw a pair of Xenos aircraft destroy at least two more dropships before they even touched the ground. Through the smoke, he finally realized where he was – in the middle of a Church garden. The irony made him laugh.

The Commisar had roused all men capable of fighting, and the remnants of the 4th Conscript Platoon formed up.

"Clear the Church!"

The platoon stormed forwards as one, The Conscript shoved into the middle of the rough square, and poured through the double doors. Nobody. As the formation moved to break, he saw the Commisar's head jerk back. His hat fluttered to the floor next to him, and a small, perfect circle sat between his eyes. A thin trail of blood moved down his head, and the Conscript felt sick. One of his companions, one with more sense than him, screamed a warning that was drowned out by a sudden set of high-pitched screams that made the Conscript's ears hurt. Limbs and blood began to fly everywhere as athletic Xenos women in white armor butchered the remnants of his platoon, with those trying to resist being downed in a similar fashion to the Commisar by those hidden snipers.

The Conscript turned, raised his lasgun, and found himself staring one of the women in the face. He felt something warm and damp trail down his leg, and began to weep. His head soared through the air, and as he slipped away into death he saw the desecrated statue kneeling over the altar.

The Banshees raised their heads, let out a victory cry, and left the church for the Rangers to secure. The Dark Reapers descended from the bell tower, their objective achieved with three downed dropships. Now, to change positions and offer ground support.