A lone truck drives through a long road carrying 3 guardsmen and a load of supplies. The terrain was a bomb shelled and war-torn countryside, with almost no life to be seen anywhere. Craters of varying sizes, broken trees and bones of long dead soldiers dot the landscape. Such was the war on Tranch, an unending war between mutants and the soldiers of the Imperium. As the mutants had no access to the void and their actions confined, this planet became the unofficial crucible of war for many conscripts companies. Those that survive, live to die in another war, those that do not survive would not even been remembered in statistics.

The driver is a logistics officer and the other 2 sent as escort. Normally, a supply run would involve much more than just a lone supply truck, it would involve a convoy along with escorts of troops. However, this was a special case, and it was said that someone with huge authority requested that the logistics officer herself deliver these crates of supply, of which she doesn't even know what it is. The officer's name is Plex, who was known to be quite the "expert" in explosives. She had reluctantly received her promotion after trying to "save" the former logistics officer when the remnants of his squad was got swarmed by the enemy by lobbing all her available frag grenades into the middle of combat. The enemy was torn of pieces, but then again, so was everyone else in vicinity. The only saving grace that prevented her from seeing the commissar's bolt pistol at the wrong end, was that she had killed the mutant's leader as well.

But now, she's only driving a truck through war-torn countryside, silently cursing her officers for making her run some delivery mission again. Every so often she would shout a warning to the other two, telling them to keep their eyes peeled for danger while avoiding the small deep craters that might trap the vehicle. Plex curses some more as the all-terrain vehicles were in repair, so all she had to make due with a road vehicle designed for rockcrete roads with 2 conscripts that may or may not be useful in case of danger. Like all conscripts, as she was, some time ago, are all trained en-mass aboard large void ships and put to the test on war-worlds like these to weed out the weak and incompetent. There was no way of telling whether these two were really useful unless it was tested. Of which was to come soon enough.

Just as Plex was about to think more of stuff to complain about, she didn't notice a small but deep crater in the dirt and promptly gets the vehicle trapped. With every step of the gas, it vehicle only sinks deeper.

"Frak" she thought, "You two, haul yer asses out here and help."

"Great, now all this disaster needs is an attack and we're all frakked…" she thought.

Then as if some form of self-fulfilling prophecy, it did happen. When all three of them got busy hauling the truck out of the crater, a group of wandering mutants, numbering to about ten, sprung forth and charged at them from all directions wielding all kinds of crude but effective clubs, knives, axes, or combination thereof.

"To arms!" Plex shouts to her crew. "Open up with everything you got!" as she aims her laspistol at the closest one and with a clean shot burns a hole through her target's head. The other two conscripts scramble back onto the truck to arm their lasguns, giving the mutants ample time to close in on the truck. The officer knew they were mere moments away from being overrun so she scrambles back into truck and opened the glove compartment, revealing several frag grenades, that she had smuggled out of the munitorum as logistics are never allowed to carry such destructive devices.

"Have I got a deal for you." she muttered to herself as she pulled the pin and flings it out the window on the left.

"Best fifteen gelts I've ever spent." as she pitches another grenade out the right.

The resulting explosions sends all of them flying, some for their lives, other in pieces as shrapnel tears them apart.

"Back to your holes and ditches, suckers. Pretty more of this where it came from!" She hollered at the escaped as she flung a third grenade, sending more of them flying, apart.

Pulling out a lasgun, she orders the conscripts to push the truck out while she keeps watch. Soon, they realize that it was too heavy. The cargo would have to be unloaded, then the truck pushed out and the cargo loaded back on again; a tedious and time consuming task in enemy territory and time was not on their side.

From a vantage point, the officer could see that more mutants were on the move and escape was less likely. Those that escaped only brought more of their kind.

"You two better hurry, we got more company." She calls to them while running back to the truck.

"Let me lighten your load a bit." she said in a sarcastically reassuring tone as she pulls out her personal backpack, revealing more grenades and fire bombs and began strapping the bombs to her belt for quick access.

"Maybe we should turn and run." suggested one of the conscripts.

"And maybe I should shove this thing up your ass." retorts Plex, holding up a grenade. "Run from duty and an officer will shoot you, run from me, and I'll grenade you. Now put your back into it or we die fighting."

At once the conscripts tried harder to move truck, but to no avail.

"Forget it, boys, let's just make this cool." She tells them as she pulls out her shotgun and as she spoke, one of the conscripts turned tails and fled but before he could get anywhere, his officer pumped a shell into his head, killing him instantly and spraying gore all over the two left.

"I wanna hear you shout "For the Emperor," like you've never shouted before young man." She told the other one, as clears the empty shell out of the chamber and reloads a fresh one in, with blood sprayed all over her gun and uniform but act as if nothing had happened and that blowing someone's head off was her everyday business.

"Han, han, hand me one of t-t-those, officer." requested remaining conscript with studders.

"Now, that's more like it!" replied Plex as she handed him a grenade.

The mutants would eventually reach the two outnumbered guardsmen but it would be with no small amount of casualties as once in close range, three grenades exploded around them, followed by volleys of lasgun fire and more frag grenade explosions and fire bombs. Plex was determined to use every last bomb in her bag before getting overrun and she had two very special ones for when that happens. Fortunately, before a large group of mutants even got to her, a few suddenly dropped dead as they were shot by autogun fire. Someone is secretly covering them. Plex didn't notice it until more dropped and both she and the conscript fought back against the truck and side by side in close quarters against the foe; the conscript using the butt of the lasgun in his last defense and Plex using her laspistol in close quarters. Even with the autogun covering them, more and more mutants assail the two and soon, the conscript got overwhelmed leaving the officer to fend for herself.

This time luck was back on the officer's side as in the distance, another person joined the fray, atop a horse and closed in on the truck to attack. Though his weapon of choice was much more different; while the horse trampled the mutants, the rider attacked them with his sword. He rode, slashing several mutants down with his first pass, then coming back for a second pass. He could be seen wearing broken parts of flak armor and still had a full face helmet that was still in tact. As the numbers thin, some of the mutants tried to flee, only to be cut down by the blade, or hoof. When none remain, the rider dismounted to inspect the mutants, putting some out of their misery.

Once the fight was over, Plex was able to get a better look at who this person is. More importantly, who caused the autogun fire. The first and foremost would be the helmeted fighter who seemed to wear ragged remains of a guardsman's uniform belonging to a regiment that was not of Plex's nor of one she knows of. His helmet covers the face, only showing his eyes and very little of his face. Plex could see the warrior's eyes behind his helmet's visor, staring at her with an unknown intention. In his right hand he held a sword, one that resemble those of feudal worlds, a little over one foot in length. He didn't seem to have a ranged weapon of sorts. Now, she knew that on planets such as these, guardsmen met in these types of circumstances are probably remnants of other regiments, runaways, traitors, lost, scavenging locals, or a combination thereof. With this knowledge, she points her laspistol at him.

"Identify yourself." she instructs him.

"Is this how the lady addresses her errant after he rescues her?" came the reply.

"How do I know you're human, remove your helmet."

"Surly, thoust know I bring not harm."

"I know that. I got the gun, you don't, so what's it going to be?"

At this the fighter mutters under his breath while he removes his helm, revealing a normal looking person, that Plex instantly knows could not be over twenty. "thou art such *****."

"I heard that!" came Plex's snarly remark.

"Are ye satisfied with mine appearance yet." inquires the person, now looking a little more agitated.

As they speak another person joins in from a distance, wielding what looks to be a machete and holding a trail of mutant heads tied to a rope. A cloak with a large hood covers her, with the colors similar to the earth. On her back slung an autogun. On closer inspection of the cloak, it was found that it was made of tanned scalps of mutants. Again, Plex tries inquiry with her laspistol.

"Show yourself." She demanded.

Taking off the cloak, the machete wielding figure turned out to be a woman, somewhat dirty with blood and dirt, but a human nevertheless. She replies to the inquiry.

"Is this how you pay me back for helping you?"

Putting back her laspistol, Plex replies "Just making sure, if I see a mutant, I kill them."

"If you're looking for another group like yours, they are not far, you just need to get past that ridge there, that is if you're looking for them." The cloaked replies.

"Why are you helping us?" asked Plex

"Those things attacked the last human settlement long ago, I am probably all that's left. I don't have much of a future left, only revenge."

To this, Plex replies. "Revenge will be plenty if you join me, at least you won't have to walk if we can get my vehicle out. What is your name errm… hunter…?"

"My name shall not be known, just call me Dame, as far as I can remember, I kill mutants because… they deserve to die. I help only because the enemy of my enemy can be called a friend."

To the sword wielding fighter, she ask: "What colors do you wear?"

The fighter fits his helm back on, while replying: "Armsman Varn, Acerage 130th, last of my patrol squadron."

Pointing at the executed conscript, Plex informs Varn: "That one there, even in death, is a disgrace to his regiment, take his armor, and you'll make more use of it, now that I have seen you fight. I'm going to need to enlist your help to complete my supply run. So I am going to need the help of your horse."

"And one more thing errant." Plex adds. "Someone needs to reteach you how to talk."