The repetitive hammer of bolter fire was making a dreadful mess of the Chimeras on Tyrok Beach, shredding the roof armour and the bodies within. Burning tanks and assault craft lit the black sand as Lieutenant Dido’s Chimera hit the base of the scree slope and slewed to the side to protect the troops as they dismounted. The gunner and commander began to lay down withering fire from the turret-mounted autocannon and the nose-mounted heavy bolter.

Right above them, on the top of the headland was Fourth Redoubt. They could not see it, which was good, as the troops inside couldn’t see them either. But they knew it was there. The tracer shots and las-bolts gave its position away.

‘Right,’ Dido said. ‘Let’s blow these bastards to smoke!’

She ran out with her command squad in close support. Kristian and Raske carried flamers, Mohr and Pietsch had a pair of demo charges each, hanging from their belts.

The black sand of the beach gave way to a shale cliff. Dido led her troops up a dry creek that had carved a narrow cleft in the scree slope. They were so close she could almost taste it. This was what Second Platoon did. They piled in and took names.

Dido was halfway up when a fist punched her in the back.

She cursed, thinking it was one of the men behind her running into her, but then she found herself on the floor. She tried to get up, but there was no strength in her legs.

She started sliding back down the way she had come. She felt stupid. She imagined what Colour Sergeant Tyson would say. Dido, we’re supposed to be going forward!

She hit the bottom and rolled three times, coming to rest with her face in the sand.

‘Throne,’ she cursed, spitting grit from her mouth. She put her hands under her and pushed herself up.

Except she didn’t. She was still lying there in the dirt.

‘Dido!’ a voice said. It sounded like someone she knew, but she couldn’t tell. There was so much going on about her. The noise, the fire, her face in the sand.

Keep going, she signalled. ‘Take that damned pillbox out,’ she ordered, though no one heard her words.

Minka’s legs pumped as she powered up the steep slope. Raske lay at the top. Part of his face had been blown off. She grabbed the flamer from his hand and tossed it to Orugi who was right behind her.

There were a pair of foxholes. She had a brief glimpse of a traitor rifleman and then she felt the punch of a las-bolt as it hit her flak armour.

She was knocked back for a moment, but her armour saved her. She closed the gap with three strides and fired down into the foxhole, killing both men inside.