"Nervous?"

Jaune doesn't answer, sitting with his elbows crossed on his knees and his stare burning through the metal floor. He sighs, not saying anything but looking over to his right. Next to him sits a tall red haired woman, flak armor kept immaculately clean even after years of use. Her hair is tied up in a pony tail, trailing out of the back of her helmet.

"Come on, Jaune, no need to worry. We've done this a hundred times."

Jaune smiles, straightening up slightly as his teammate does her best to comfort him.

"Of course. It's just… No matter how many times we jump, it never gets any easier." He responds, feeling a slight pressure on his arm as a gloved hand gently finds a resting place.

Pyrrha smiles, watching the blond haired boy try his best to regain composure.

"If you say so."

"What, are you nervous or something?"

Jaune didn't answer, sitting with his head in his hands and his stare burning through the metal floor. The cabin reverberated as a spray of gunfire splattered against the metal underbelly, drowning everything out in a wash of white noise. Grinning, the brown haired man next to him slapped a hand on his shoulder, repeating the question.

"Come on, Jauney boy, no need to be scared. We've done this a hundred times."

Jaune sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumbs.

"Yeah. Yeah, we've done simulations before. But we weren't getting shot at back then." He responds, jumping as a rokkit slams into the armored hull, shaking the entire aircraft. "At least, they weren't actually trying to hit us."

Cardin laughs, tugging on the harness that keeps him tied to the wall.

"If you say so…"

The team was standing now, holding onto the metal bar that ran the length of the cabin. Slowly the assault ramp began to lower, a howling wind whipping through the metal room as the squad took in the full view of the assault. The battle was brutal, the landscape blown to rubble by repeated artillery blasts. Las shots flickered back and forth, occasionally supplemented by the loud bark of heavy bolter fire. Every now and then he could even see the bright flash of a lascannon narrowly missing the assault craft.

They'd been over the mission a dozen times, before and during the flight. All they had to do was jump waist deep in heretic territory and fight through the minions of chaos to eliminate the insurgent artillery so the Chimera tanks could charge through the no man's land unimpeded. Simple enough, command had an optimistic success chance at 12.33%.

To his left, a shorter red haired girl stood at the ready, one hand clutching the metal bar while the other held onto the longlas strapped to her chest. She glanced to her right, smiling at Jaune.

"Don't worry, sergeant. We're the best, remember?" Ruby grins, bumping an elbow against the back of the white haired girl standing to her front.

"Of course we are, Rubes." He grins, feeling the Valkyrie dip downwards as it approached the safest landing zone.

As the ship finished its arc and began to pull back up, the guardsmen stepped forward into the howling wind, thrown out into the air. Two at a time, disappearing into the void. Left foot, right foot, pause. Left foot, right foot, pause.

Pyrrha looks back at him one last time before leaping backwards into the air, smiling. Weiss jumps with her, both girls falling for a few seconds before their grav chutes kicked on. Jaune takes a deep breath before stepping out into the air, Ruby leaping soon after.

Jaune was standing now, holding on to the metal bar that ran the length of the cabin. Slowly the assault ramp began to lower, a howling wind whipping through the metal room as the squad took in the full view of the assault. Below them, beams of laser shots and crude orkish projectiles traded blows, illuminating the scene with a dull glow punctuated by explosions. As they zoomed over the battlefield and deeper into greenskin territory, the impacts on the gunship grew more frequent, and much more violent. It wasn't long until the entire ship was shuddering from anti aircraft fire, and Jaune fought to keep his balance as the pilot banks from side to side to avoid the volleys.

They'd been over the mission a dozen times, before and during the flight. All they had to do was jump waist deep in greenskin territory and fight through a horde of orks to plant a meltabomb on the Deff Dreads being repaired by the ork meks. Simple enough, command had estimated a positive result of eighty percent casualties and four Dreads destroyed. Of course they couldn't risk the Valkyries providing close air support, otherwise that figure would have been lowered by half.

He sighs, heart pounding in his chest. The assault craft shudders again, then begins to dive down as it approaches the projected landing zone.

As the ship finished its arc and began to pull back up, the guardsmen stepped forward into the howling wind, thrown out into the air. Two at a time, disappearing into the void. Left foot, right foot, pause. Left foot, right foot, pause. Left-

With a violent lurch, the Valkyrie is wrenched to the side. Jaune screams out from the surprise, holding onto the metal bar for dear life as the ship begins to spin around and around. In front of him, he watches Cardin get ripped from the cabin, hands scrambling desperately to cling to Jaune's boots before he disappears. Even over the sounds of the failing aircraft he can hear the cacophonous roar of the Lootas spraying their machine guns into the scrambled guardsmen.

It's over as quickly as it began, the world going black as the Valkyrie was yanked into the ground by the impossible ork weapons.

Jaune tumbles through the air once before his grav chute kicks on, halting his rotation and righting him. The gyro stabilizers rotate in their sockets to compensate for the inertia, glowing hot as the blue flames jet out of them. At the same time, his descent begins to smooth out as the anti gravity field powers on.

He glances around to locate the rest of his team, each of his comrades similarly reoriented and aiming their boots towards the bombed out ruin that provided the only durable cover within a hundred meters.

The air glows red as lasrifles open up below him, narrowly missing the dropping guardsman. He can hear the air fizzle and crack as the lasers leave vaporized trails, feel the air heat as the energy zips nearby.

A loud crack shakes through his entire body as he feels something slam against his chest. His left hand brushes against his chest to feel for the impact, his fingers running over the familiar lines of the plasfiber chest piece. On the left side he can feel a crater, just next to the holy Aquila adorning his armor. An autogun impact, something that if had been slightly closer to the center would have punched through his armor.

He doesn't get much time to dwell on his elongated life, the ground quickly growing underneath him as he descends. Already landed, Blake and Weiss unstrap their rifles and snap off a few shots before ducking into cover behind a blown out wall. Though it was never a particularly large building, it had been made even smaller by a direct impact from a Basilisk. The forward facing wall had been blown out completely, while the remains of the roof filled the crater positioned in the middle of the floor. The only part still standing was the back wall, a single window cut into the figure.

His boots hit hard, and he rolls forward to keep from blowing out his knees. Heavy stubbers and lasguns bark out as he scrambles forward to get into cover, the rest of the team keeping their heads down as they run forward as well. From the distance they landed at they're not particularly worried about a shot landing, but it pays to get into cover as quick as possible.

"Three stubber nests. Third floor, second, third, and fifth windows." Weiss relays, peeking her head out just enough to confirm her observation.

"Ruby, you're up." Jaune orders, trying to calm his breath before they move again.

Ruby grins, unstrapping her longlas as she clambers up a pile of rubble to take position, the end of her rifle poking out just enough to clear the debris. She takes a deep breath to steady herself, then lets off her first shot.

The bright red scar illuminates the battlefield, a perfect line drawn from the muzzle of her rifle to the skull of the heretic unfortunate enough to be in her sights. Skull fragments and grey matter explode out into the room behind him, and the corpse slumps down at the gun. The other cultists duck down immediately, more interested in their own survival than remanning the heavy stubber. A second flash cuts through the sky as the next gunner meets a similar fate.

"That should buy us some time," Jaune mutters, waiting for the third crack before looking over at the other team members. "Nora, Ren. Give us some cover."

"Way ahead of you!" The pink haired girl shouts back in response, the pair already propping up a mortar tube. Ren slides it back, then side to side, lining it up with the window.

"Distance?" The quiet guardsman asks, dialing the gauge in while his buddy readies the mortars.

Pyrrha looks up, holding a thumb out while she does the calculations in her head.

"500 meters, give or take." She responds with confidence, waiting for the next order.

Ren nods, clicking the gauge up until he's satisfied. He double checks that the arc will pass through the window, then nods to Nora.

"I love this part!" she laughs, dropping the bomb down the pipe. The whole squad can feel the impact in their chests as the ignition detonates, propelling the ordnance downrange. As soon as the smoke clears, Nora immediately drops another one down the chute.

After a few seconds of travel time, the mortars begin to land. Muffled explosions echo through the battlefield, beating to the rhythm of the war drums.

"Ooh, that was a perfect shot. Too bad you hit the wrong window." Ruby mentions, watching the barrage before she slides back down to the other team members.

"Nora, last shot before we move." Jaune commands, adjusting the grip on his own weapon. While Nora seems slightly disappointed, Ren simply nods and gets in position to retrieve the weapon.

The final shot fires out, signalling for the team to move. All eight guardsmen break from cover as it does, scrambling over rubble and across the devastated landscape as they rush towards the next stretch of cover.

Jaune opens his eyes. For the first few seconds he feels nothing, adrift in a confused sea where he tries to piece his life back together. He's in a black tunnel, a bright white light glowing at the end. He wants to move towards it, but his body won't listen. The light grows brighter before fading away, only to be replaced by a grey blob as his eyes begin to focus. The blob starts to take on shape before he realizes he's looking at the sky, an angry grey filled with fire.

There's something on top of him. Even with a helmet on he can tell it's Russel, someone else who must have gotten knocked out in the crash.

"You alright?" Jaune rasps out in a whisper, his throat dry and cracked. He moves his left shoulder and Russel slides off, or at least everything from the waist up.

"Guess not."

Every movement is an agony. Simply breathing causes stitches to rip up his sides. He can't feel his feet, and his left arm won't respond save for the slightest movement of his shoulder. Only his right arm seems to be intact, letting him reach out to slide a rifle closer to him, then reaches out to feel around for some sort of first aid kit, or at the least a field ration box containing water.

Finding nothing, he simply leans his head back and lets the darkness take over.

Not for long, though. For him it feels like only a second from the time he closed his eyes to when he first hears the banging.

His eyes crack open, slowly focusing on the war torn sky as he comes to his sense once more. A conspicuous banging, the noise is. Loud, and complemented by a rough growl that signified the presence of a greenskin. From the sounds of it, an opportunistic looter come to salvage some scrap to make a quick toof.

Jaune waits at the ready, shallow breaths caught in his throat. The growls come closer as the ork moves towards the assault ramp. Though normally tall enough to be able to peer down into the wreckage, the hunch backed posture prevents the xenos from spotting Jaune.

"Oi, 'o does 'e fink 'e is, da boss? Sendin' me out ta loot da oomie git jet." The greenskin grumbles to himself as he reaches up to climb into the Valkyrie. "Dis ain't my job, I'z missin all da good foights. 'E needs a good krumpin when-"

A red barrage brightens up the cabin as Jaune pulls the trigger of his lasgun. Since he knows his right hand is in working condition, he puts it to the test, firing shot after shot until the greenskin stops moving. It falls backwards out of the end of the Valkyrie, peppered with las burns.

Jaune lets out a sigh of relief as the threat is eliminated. While the presence of one ork usually meant there were more nearby, there didn't appear to be any more accompanying the lad. So for now, he could rest.

Again, his slumber is interrupted by a loud banging. Before Jaune can ready his rifle, something comes sliding down the floor and lands next to him.

"Help…" Jaune rasps out in his dry throat, looking over at the person to his side. He was obviously Imperial Guard, though he had an open faced helmet and a backpack. Ground forces.

The Guardsman doesn't respond, rummaging through the body parts to pick out unused energy cells for his lasgun. He shoves a handful of them into his flak armor, stuffing the armor plate with spare ammunition that wouldn't fit on his belt. The Guardsman leans over Jaune, yanking the rifle out of his hand and ejecting the magazine.

"Please… help me…" Jaune begs, turning to look at the scavenger.

The Guardsman stops and looks down at Jaune, studying the boy's eyes. After a few silent seconds he reaches down to grab something.

Jaune feels that something pressing against his temple. A laspisol, probably belonging to the sergeant of the squad that never made it off the Valkyrie.

Hiss.

"Looks like you're going to suffer for a bit longer." The Guardsman shrugs, dropping the broken laspistol on Jaune's chest before turning around to climb back out of the wreckage.

"No… don't leave me here… please…" Jaune whispers, right hand reaching out in a vain attempt to keep the other human from leaving.

The scavenger didn't respond, jumping out of the wrecked plane and disappearing into the unknown. Jaune wanted to cry, but his eyes were too dry for tears. Instead, he closed his eyes to wait for the sweet release of death.

Again he was awakened by a thunderous booming. The earth shook as another series of explosions shook the world. Though it could have been a mile away, the massive cannons of the Basilisks could still be felt, especially with one's head resting on a chunk of metal embeded in the ground.

He wanted to die. Anything to escape the pain. His legs were broken, his arms were disjointed, and he had several cracked ribs accompanying a painful concussion. Death had eluded him so far, and even now his body refused to die, the artillery barrages sending adrenaline pumping through his veins.

After what felt like an eternity of pain, another sound began to be replaced by the Basilisk's explosions. Heavy boots crushing through debris, making its way towards the crashed ship. Jaune couldn't tell what it was exactly, it didn't sound like the mechanical whine of the sentinel walkers.

A pair of glowing red eyes shines down at him. Terrified of what next awaits him, he raises a right hand to hide his face from the glowing orbs.

The Valkyrie shakes and Jaune can feel himself moving. Slowly he can feel the aircraft levelling out as it's pulled out of its crater and onto more flat ground. It's painful, and he tries to cry out as his ribs scrape together, though no sound can be heard.

The eyes duck down and move inside the cabin. The floor vibrates as the unknown thing steps forward, moving towards Jaune. His arm doesn't cooperate when he tries to grab the laspistol off his chest, and soon his vision is filled with a giant fist reaching to grab him.

Pure pain lances through Jaunes body as he's dragged out of the crashed ship. It isn't until he's in the light that he realizes what he's looking at. Enormous, clad in green armor with black pauldrons. The God Emperor's finest.

"Battle Brother Ardeo, I found another survivor," the Astartes says to the open air in a harsh metallic voice, "This one's in bad shape. Priority evacuation."

Jaune can only watch as the Space Marine sets Jaune down gently, a feat that he thought would be impossible for someone the size of an Astartes. The Marine kneels down and reaches behind him to retrieve a small canister. With precise ease, the giant forces Jaune's mouth open and upturns the canister, dripping water into the Guardsman's throat.

"Why?" Jaune asks with a raspy voice, reinvigorated by the liquid. "I'm not worthy of this."

"You aren't yet dead," the Marine says cryptically as he stands back up and stows the canister once more, "that means you have faith in the Emperor, and He has faith in you."

Jaune doesn't respond, unsure of how one would ever respond to that. He still couldn't process what had happened, that he was rescued by a Space Marine, a mythical legend that few would ever see in battle, let alone interact with one.

He didn't have much time to ponder, though, as he felt another wave of sleep washing over him as he waited for the medical Chimera to retrieve him.