Chapter Two: Duel

I now look around the Black Templar outpost. The place is littered with the corpses of thralls from the Raptor rampage. Looks like they did their job for once. I take a moment to get used to the surroundings.

The compound itself is nothing special. To the south is the mountain it is built into. While the other three sides are just 10 meter high walls, which we avoided perfectly. A poorly made thing compared to what their Imperial Fists brothers tend to make. Of course due to perspective if the Eaters of Worlds made this it would be deemed a legendary accomplishment.

After another moment, 9th Claw gets behind me as they start to form up.

“Happy hunting,” I say taking a moment to look behind them. “Try to keep the acolytes alive.”

I now race off into an unopened door. Runes on my display now show a map stolen by the Alpha Legion telling me where the generator room is. It is fairly deep inside the fort but it should mean nothing. Not like a little exercise has killed anyone.

I quickly use power armor fist to break the lock in the door causing the lock the break. Opening the door now I find myself against about eight thralls behind a small barricade. They are almost asking for death in the position they put themselves in.

Perfect

“Feast your eyes upon the true demigods of this realm. For the Night Lords have come!” I shout as I draw, Vetterschaft, my power sword. Shouldn’t be wasting ammunition on thralls, for now at least. The blade comes to life as the relic of the Imperial Fist Legion shows a red hue. 

Charging in now I break the barricade as the thralls just start to fire their lasguns at me. The first one is cut down from in a mere millisecond as my blade cut his head right off. Another two to my charge their bones shattering from the mere impact of my hit. After I cut in half the thrall I use my sword to pierce the heart of another one, his heart bursting as more blood touches the blade.

Four down four to go I think as another one’s head gets smashed as I slam my fist down. Brain matter and bone go everywhere now covering my power armor as blood fountains from the “wound.” Well, my slave, has some work cut out for her now it seems. 

Now the last three, which are… Running away, just great. Pulling out my Bolter Zuster now, I fire it three times causing each thrall’s chest to burst open as the bolt round hit them. The walls now are covered in body parts and blood as I go back to running. Checking the time I make sure I haven’t wasted too much. 15 seconds, too much time upon mere mortals damn it, I need to go faster to prevent any Astartes from going into the generator room. I have to only hope I do not find another blockage.

Five minutes pass now as I find myself nearing the generator room, the light on my runes now flashing blue telling me I am there. Looking at the door I find it sealed with me unable to open it. Guess we have to do it the old fashion way. 

{Requesting permission to blow the door to the generator room} I say though my vox as in an almost sarcastic tone.

{Permission granted, kill them all} I hear Ezrath say to me, the vox seem to muffle most of his voice that time.

With that, I grab four demo charges to blow up the door. Preparing each one I make ready to blow the door. I then start putting each one on the wall is a simple game to me as I hear the clicking sound saying they are charged. After placing the demo charges on the door, I run about 20 meters away and click the control setting them all off. 

Suddenly the door blows up causing it to fall on the ground as gas begins to fill up the room. The purple substance is fairly poisonous to mortals, but to an Astartes, it will only give a small pain in the lungs. If you add our helmets with its filtration system it is as if the gas is not there.

Walking in now I take a moment to get a good look of the room under the gas. To my left and right is two fairly large generators. These two must be pumping all the energy required to have the compound running. To my front lays the main control panel, exactly what I am looking for.

Going to the control panel I click on the small keyboard and suddenly the words, “password required” pops up. Remembering the password given to use from the Alpha Legion I quickly type it in. “Th3Emp3r0rPr013c7s” with that I am logged into the generator’s controls.  

I am going to be honest, we did not need to trade a dozen slaves for that password. I think anyone could have figured that out with one look upon the Black Templars. Even one of the uncreative, rageful followers of the Blood God would only need a few hours to figure the password out.

With that, I shut down all power in the complex quickly causing the lights to go out. “Now this is where the fun begins,” I say. Suddenly though I hear the sound of footsteps. To loud to be normal humans yet to quiet for Astartes…. Grinning under my helmet knowing the fact I have found a group of acolytes. 

I quickly now slide into the shadows covering my tracks waiting for the Squires of the Templars to appear. And just like that, I see three acolytes of the Black Templars walk into the room flashlights on their shotguns.

“We know you are here heretic, come out and face your end,” one of them said. I took a moment to look at the three. They are all Sons of Dorns by all means. Each one looked so close to their Primarch with only differences it seems is the age, eyes, and hair. It would truly sadden me to bring death to them. Lucky for me I don’t have too.

I wait for them to approach my position and when they came I jumped. Using my speakers in my armor i give out a deafening screech causing them to flinch. Activating my power sword now jump upon the closest one near me…


He was by far one of the easiest I have taken down in a long time. Using the moments of deafening sound I got close to the nearest Acolyte near me and using the bottom of my power I quickly knock him unconscious. The lad never even put up a fight I thought.

Sad

I now step towards the next one nearest to me who is just getting a sense of things. The young acolyte with a superhuman sense of, wait for I am about to get hot, quickly raises his shotgun to fire at me. He managed to only get his finger near the trigger before I knock it away causing the shotgun to slide to one of the generators. With that using my left hand I punch him knocking him unconscious as well.

Two down one to go, I thought as I turned to face him. Unlike all the other he dropped his shotgun and realized that there is no time to pick it up stood now with his gladius in hand. 

“FIGHT ME, TRAITOR!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. Clumsy he is but fearful he is not. 

“As you wish,” I reply. “Also good luck trying to win.” I then charge at him with Vetterschaft and he comes at me with his small in comparison gladius. I block his first hit when our blades met the ringing of it echoing throughout the room. Interesting, he does have more strength then a normal acolyte, the Black Templars must have never called this outpost in a long time, as if he is almost…

“You are the first aren’t you? The first of Astartes made on this planet, and you have spent all that time waiting for a call from your chapter. But all that waiting there was nothing, not even a simplest of transmissions. As if your chapter, no, the Imperium forgot.” I quickly knock his gladius from his hand “I trust you the 8th Legion is not like that. We do not forget brothers. We love our brothers. If only you were to join us” I simply say.

“I would never!” He then proceeds to spit on me.

Sighing I use my sword to knock him unconscious like the rest of his brothers. “What a pain, but he seems to have the most potential.” In collect the bodies of the three acolytes and piles them up to be collected later.

{I have found three acolytes and they are in the generator room waiting to be collected. Oh and where are the Black Templars?}

{This is 9th Claw Sergeant, we will go collect them later. As for the location of the Apothecary, he is in the shrine room with five of the acolytes. Although the location of the Chaplain is unknown.}

I then hear the sound of power armored footsteps 

{Don’t look for him} 


Turning around now to confront him I see the Black Templar walk towards me. I take a moment to look at him. With Crozius Arcanum and skull helm he would have struck fear into the hearts of all mortals. His armour is what you expect in a blood of Sigismund with a black paint and Cross of the Templars.
“Hello there blood kin of Sigismund and Son of Dorn.” I say to the Chaplain.
“Heretic scum, you do not have the right to speak to me only die!” The Templar Chaplain would reply raising his Crozius Arcanum at me.
“A right now? No, no, no, you have to understand I have a right.” I slowly inched towards the door now as he walks towards me. Easier to fight him in the halls where there is space then in this generator room where he has the advantage. “Speaking by itself is not a right for we all can speak to anyone, the question is does the other party respond? And you have decided to respond to me Chaplain of the Black Templars.”
I can tell under his skull helm he is disgusted and madden by my truth. “You not just come to our sacred place but to question ME! A true follower of the Emperor who WILL stay loyal to his grace!” The anger you can still is building now, he will pop soon.
“Well, yes. For I am Astartes from the heresy.” I am now half way towards the door. “Am one of the first to serve your lord in countless battles. I have even saw the Emperor before, not in dreams nor in some drug filled haze, but in physical form. He was truly the most beautifully flawed human I have ever seen.” I grim under my helmet now, this will get him pissed.
“FLAWED! FLAWED! HE, THE GOD EMPEROR OF MANKIND WAS PERFECT. WHAT YOU!!! YOU!!!! SAW WAS A FAKE! HE WOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN IMPERFECT.” The Chaplain screamed in rage.
“You want to prove it? Fight me.” I now draw Vetterschaft at the exit of the generator room. Now that brought the man over the edge if anything. He would know what sword this is for it is by all means a Relic of the Imperial Fist Legion. The sword even still has the symbol of the Fist used during the heresy.
“You damned traitor, liar and thief! You are the three worst things anyone can be!!!” The Chaplain then proceeds to charge at me.
As he charges everything almost seems to slow down. Always likes this in duels it seems, just time itself just loves to make every moment feel longer than before. This torture just is too real, for anyone who has dueled. Seeing your death come but you can only stand and watch.
The Chaplain now them runs at me and I quickly dodge his first swing of his Crozius Arcanum leading me outside of the generator room. First step done, piss him off so much that I have the chance to get the space I need to stay away from his Crozius Arcanum. Now step two, the longest one, go to kill him.
I then go into a running chase as the Chaplain races behind me. “GET BACK HERE YOU DAMNED TRAITOR!” He yelled at me.
“I rather not.” I reply now running up a staircase.
Many people do consider being the prey in a chase the worst of options, for it leaves them weak knowing that someone is always behind you. Although for me, I love it, for it gives me the most important thing that any free thinker can only dream of, choice. Without such an important factor this would be deemed by many an unsavory sort of position to be in. Of course I have done this to many times to think gift of choice is bad.
I now stop at the top of the staircase turning around to face him. Positioning my sword now to face him now I stand ready to face the Templar. The Chaplain would then to use the fill weight and force of Crozius Arcanum to swing out me. I knowing that even a meer touch could be fatal jump away using my advantage of height to avoid his swing fairly easily. After his swing I use Vetterschaft to swing pass his now exposed left arm and I manage to get wound upon the Chaplain. Although sadly for me, not anything deadly due to a quick move back on the Chaplain’s part.
Blood then started to drip from the arm of the Templar as he managed to steady himself. “First blood goes to the Night Lords, Templar.” I say, jumping back to keep up the running game I am having with him.
“It won’t matter for I will have a victory Traitor,” the Chaplain would reply. “This is a to the death duel no first blood.” His wound already stopped bleeding due to his Astartes physiology. “Now tell me how did you steal such a Relic from our past? It would be an honor to give it back.”
“Talkative now are we?” I walk backwards to avoid his swing again. “In an age generations before yours of course.”
“I mean *HOW* not when you Emperor Forsaken bastard.” He shouted.
“Hey now I am getting to that.” I use Vetterschaft to stab at him, but the Chaplain using his more younger body avoided the sword. “Now let me finish. First it was not stolen, for I have no clue how that rumour came from. This sword of your Legion was a gift during the heresy. Said to be forged by Vulkan himself, touched by the Emperor, blessed by Rogal Dorn and gifted to a captain long dead in the Imperial Fist Legion.” I would say. I then quickly move back from another swing of the Chaplain’s Crozius Arcanum the power maul this time just barely hitting my power armour. Better be more careful, cannot let something like that happen again.
I then run from the stairwell down a large hallway in which two Thralls tried to fire upon me. With a single swing of my blessed blade I slice the two in half tearing them apart only letting them get a single shot at me. Running over the bodies and pausing so I could challenge him.
“You would honestly think I believe such a thing! A gift of all things!? I know how your Legion wages war there is no honor in that!” The Chaplain shouted.
“Oh?” I block a weak swing from his Crozius Arcanum then ran again. “I would say differently. In those ancient long forgotten days the 8th Legion was one filled with honor and pride! We sacrificed so much for the Imperium that would make other Legions be almost shamed! We saved billions if not trillions from death by sacrificing the lives of the few.” I then swing to find him countering my power sword, the two power fields spark as they meet. “Now then back to the sword before I go on the a rant on who is right here.”

I wait for a reply but nothing.
I spoke again, “It was during the final days of the Great Crusade in a planet long forgotten in the books of history. We along side your brothers fought a war against the Orks. It was hard one and bloody costing the lives of many mortal and Astartes alike, but as man we managed to pull though fighting the Orks to their final fortress.”
I then noticed he paused. Not something i would notice in a duel but he did pause. It almost confused me but I decided to go on. “There we meet,” i then start running faster preventing the Chaplain to easily catch up to me. “The largest Ork warboss seen in the entire campaign, and we knew if we killed it the Ork horde would shatter. The plan was to kill him with am armoured fist but the Ork ran before we could get him.”
“Typical of Orks…. Always unexpected” the Chaplain said.
I then looked at him baffled. What? He…. what? I then realized I had slowed under the sheer shock. The Chaplain using this would then swing his Crozius Arcanum at me and I realising what is going on dodge it but I still received a partial hit on my side. Fuck! The pain wasn’t that bad but the hit still caused me to grind my teeth together due to me not being prepared for it. 

I then saw under my helmet he was going for another swing. Using the half second I was given I ran. Cannot let that happen again, god damn it if only his calm reply wasn’t so unexpected.
Taking a breath I tool in the air from the underground as I got my thought together. I should continue, cannot let him think I am at a position of weakness. “Also… Artillery as well would be risky do to us not knowing the position and the amount of anti-aircrafts weapon in the fortress preventing a reconnaissance. So we came up with an idea.” God why am I telling a story to this Chaplain. I then quickly turn around to meet him again with my wound quickly clotting up. Using the moment I catch my breath and our weapons once again meet with each power field flickering as they grind against each other.
“Let me guess now, you decided to do a drop pod assault.” The Chaplain would reply, the anger in his voice completely gone now.
“Aye, we would gather forces from two of the Emperor’s Legions to do a drop pod assault on the Ork fortress. It would be a bloody battle that would be waged for days on end. Although it would be glorious with the blood of Orks being spilled and flooding what can be declares streets of such a rubble.” I then after a few seconds would once again run to the exit of the underground.
“After a week of this battle the Imperial Army would finally break though and that is when the Ork warboss finally made an appearance to rally the vast horde. That was when I saw a captain of your old Legion, the Imperial Fists come and challenge it.” I then reach the surface and challenge the Chaplain.
“Looks like you have nowhere else to run Night Lord,” the Templar would say to me. “Now finish your story as I you breath your last.”
I laugh, “As you wish,” I then meet his Crozius Arcanum once again. “The duel would last hours it would seem as the Fist and the Ork would trade countless blows and during this time the war would still be wage throughout the battlefield with a seemly inability for anyone to touch these two as the fought. Then in the final moments the Captain would lose this same blade when the Ork cut his arm off. Kind of like right now in fact.” After he swings his Crozius Arcanum, I move to get on his side to cut off his right arm.
His right arm would then fall to the ground the sound of power armour dropping as blood poured from his wound. Then the Chaplain would drop his Crozius Arcanum as most of the weight was on his right side. The beautifully well crafted weapon would now be covered red as his blood fountained out.
“You would pay for that!”  The Chaplain would say ignoring the pain.
“Well not really since it looks like this duel is over, so let me finish please.” I walk over to the Chaplain as push him to his knees. “He would lose his blade and would be knocked to the ground his face staring into death itself with no fear. He would have died if I did not react in time throwing my Gladius into the eye of the Ork and grabbing the Fist’s Power Sword for my chainblade’s ran out of teeth day before. I would then while the Ork was blinded would behead the Ork Warboss causing mass infighting in the Ork Horde and victory for the Imperium. Afterwards both Mortal and Astartes would be there as I was gifted the Captain’s sword for ending the campaign and saving the Imperial Fist’s life.” I then took a breath as I finished.
“Now then I like to see the face of the Chaplain before I kill you. Do you wish for me to remove your helmet or yourself?” I ask
Without saying a word now the Chaplain would pull off his helmet with his left hand. “Happy now Night Lord?” He would question.
“Yes,” I said.
Taking a look at his features I would take note of how closely he looked to his blood kin. His grey hair was cut just like Rogal when I first met him. His face would almost be a mirror image of Sigismund even with the calmed look even with his arm still gushing out blood. Although what struck me deeper was his eyes. His blue eyes would give the same look to the Imperial Fist captain I would kill with his gift in the Imperial palace. Of course I would never say that outloud.
“Are you going to stare now or are you going to take off your helmet like a real man?” He the Chaplain demanded.
I took a long deep sigh and removed my helmet meeting his eyes with mine. I wonder what he thinks of me now? Maybe a traitor still? A man of respect, honor? What could he see in me now?
“Now then,” I look to see 5th and 9th Claw walking out of the outpost with prisoners, loot and the reason for this raid, geneseed. “Looks like we won now Chaplain of the Templars of Black.”
“Expected,” was his reply.
“Well any last words Loyalist?” I ask him.
“The Emperor has blessed our souls. As for you Night Lord, you can still redeem yourself. I recommend you do it.” He said.
“I will think about,” and then I beheaded the Chaplain.

Two Sides of a War (From my alt-history series)

Terror

I have always heard of the Legions and how they bring fear to the hearts of mortal men and woman. I also always thought that I would be one of the lucky few who would never have to face them in combat. I was wrong…

The screaming of artillery shells was the first step in how the Legions wage war. This would spread on a long line so you would never know when and where they are coming for you. And so the artillery rained in caused death upon our line. I have heard by stories that this could take days if not weeks before a major offensive lead by them would happen. This one would only last three hours, but those three were hell coming out from the depths to make us beg for forgiveness for our sins. I could hear screams coming from the recent replacements as they went on their knees to pray and cry. The more veteran of us knew what we’re coming after stories or first-hand experience. Then phase two started. Screaming endless screaming of the captured POWs could be heard throughout the line. These were unlucky enough to have been taken by the 2nd Legion. This went on for another day followed by the final artillery barrage. This would finally give way to the third phase, assault. Infantry would move in small squads against our machine guns. These though not from the Legions would be still no easy force to break. We would wound and kill dozens but that is of course when the next part would start. 

Suddenly the trench line exploded with the detonation of dozens of explosives right under our line. The Legions would also use engineers and workers from other units to dig deep under our line to set these off causing sinkholes to fill outline. Dozens of our lives soldiers were now buried under meters of dirt as they suffocated to death. I was one of the lucky few to avoid such a death due to me being so close to the front line, of course, that does not mean I will be safe for long. Suddenly fire can be heard from an stg20 and two men from my squad are killed. Only one force had stg20s, the 2nd Legion has come. That was when I broke. There would be some men would have stayed but I honestly just want to live not to die, or worse, be taken by the 2nd Legion. I took my rifle and fled back deeper into our line, and from my peripheral vision, I could see most of my squad had the same idea. Behind me, I could hear the roar of mg20s and stg20s as the 2nd Legion was slaughtering whoever decided to stay in the line. Brave bastards they are or just idiots who think they won’t die from a Legion assault. What remains of my squad reached our regiment’s trench line jumping in their tired from the hundred meters we had to cross. I tightened my grip around my AK12 as I looked from my left to my right. Safety….. But nothing is ever safe when you fight the Legions. Suddenly the sound of two stgs can be heard and grenades exploding near my position causing me to fall to the ground dropping my rifle a meter away from me. I wipe the blood away from my eyes to see everyone around me screaming out or dead

 To my right, a man was without an arm with his left leg torn. To my left what was left of a man lays. It seems I was “lucky” and avoided most of the blast. Now the final stage of a Legion assault, the cleanup. I see two Legionnaires jump down into my trench both with gas masks, I try to grab my rifle but it is too late with my chest feeling the weight of one of their boots landing straight on my rib cage. With the barrel of an stg is faced right at me. Please shot me, please, I do not want to suffer the fate of being captured, just let me die next to my brothers. The Legionnaires then talks in Czech most likely deciding our fates like what some Pagans would do. I notice one thing as they argue, the one with the rifle pointed tone seems to be female and the other male. Finally, the female Legionnaire puts her rifle on the ground to pull out a dagger from her belt. Then in Russian, she tells me, “Be lucky to serve the Legions mortal, your life will help us fuel the war.” She then cuts off my fingers two at a time leaving only my thumbs. This causes me to scream in pain. “Well assuming you survive of course.” She then cuts my thumbs off and force feeds me it. I feel the taste of my own flesh as I eat my own body parts. The two then leave me to bleed to death and all I can do is hope I die before the battle is over and the Legions come for my soul…

Assault

I held my stg20 the feeling of cold metal on my fingers. The true beauty of such a rifle. Oh does it give me pleasure? We are about to assault an enemy trench line guarded by the 104th Rifle Division and I for one do not expect them to make it out of this battle alive.

“Alžběta!”

I turn to see Rostislav Horák walking towards me in the trench. He fixes his helmet and grins a murders grin. “Are you ready for war once again my beloved?” He jokingly calls me.

“Of course, the taste of war the feeling of blood upon my skin, the smell of burnt flesh, and the cries of the dying truly feeds the greatest of desires in me.” I stand up now putting my stg20 on my back and I go to fix up my uniform cleaning off any dirt that might have got on it.

“Well the infantry should already be there so we should go off to war now,” Rostislav would say to me keeping his grin as he puts on his gas mask.

I smile back, unknown to me it was the smile of a murder. I then go to grab my gas mask from my belt and put it on fixing it up. We won’t be using any gas but well, it brings fear to the enemies if nothing else. We then go up the trenches and keep our heads low as we make the dash across no man’s land. The sound of automatic fire can be heard as the forward units clash vigorously against the wall which is the Communist trench lines. Quickly we get there with our semi machine hearts helping cover anything our natural hearts lack. 

Each step gets us closer to the enemy lines, oh how I cannot wait for our time to break open the enemy’s soul. Soon we lay about 50 meters to the enemy line us now being forced to crawl in order to protect ourselves from the sights of the enemy. 

“Three, two, one,” I hear Legionnaire Horák whisper, as suddenly the whole line explodes. Looks like the pioneers did their art.

“I spot a squad of Russians about 30 meters in front of us” I hear Rostislav then tell me. I prepare my stg20 to fire on them now the enemy now in my sights. I then switch off the safety to semi-auto and fire four rounds dropping two Russians. Switching to full auto now Rostislav and I stormed the forward trench to find it abandoned by the enemy.

“Great, they ran like cowards, not *true* Slavs,” I say. They should have fought and died here but no… Guess now we got to give them pain and suffering now. “Now let us go to the main trenches brother in arms.”

“Good, thought you got lazy for a moment,” I hear him say. Rolling my eyes then race to the next trench now only 50 meters away to see Soviet infantry jumping into the trench. My mouth watered at the sight of them. Mortal flesh, perfect to fill my own appetite. At around 10 meters we drop down and do standard Legion assault doctrine. Grabbing a model M34 grenade I throw one and Rostislav, another. In seconds we hear two explosions as the grenades toss shrapnel in the trenches. Looking at Rostislav, I see him nod his head as we head deeper into the trench weapons drawn.

A 40k Story Chapter One: Every Story Starts With An End (Incomplete Version)

A small fleet appears in an Imperial system, tearing the warp open as they break back into real space. They hail from the Night Lords Legion and are here to search for slaves and potential recruits to join their endless war. For only the greatest can serve in the Night Lords Legion.

In the fleet is seven ships, one Battle Barge, three Strike Cruisers, two Avenger class Grand Cruiser, and one Gladius Class Light Cruiser. Each one has the emblems of the Night Lords Legion, the 8th Legion, the terror legion, the one that brought death to billions upon billions in the galaxy and given fear countless more. 

The Battle Barge is known as the Sangzes Reiben, a ship built in the great ports of Jupiter in an age long gone. 

I sit in a corner far from all the slaves working in the hanger bay, after 10,000 years. We are still achieve nothing during the long war. Yes trillions are now dead and countless worlds have burned for the Chaos gods, but really nothing has been gained. Each one of us has lost basically everything in an attempt to fight this war. I look back upon that cursed 10,000. I have lost all my battle brother during that period, my homeworld was gone. My Primarch dead, and our legion shattered. Was it all worth it I still ask myself every single day? 

No, no I cannot doubt myself. I know for a fact this war and the heresy was worth it. The Emperor was going to kill us after we conquered the galaxy for him, just tossed away to be another footnote in history. The Night Lords would have been dead in every single way. Not even in the stories and myths of the Imperium just ashes in the wind. The worlds we conquered, the souls that had to suffer from us would have been for not when we are forgotten. 

I stop thinking about all of that and look around to see the figures of Astartes, servants, and slaves working around the hanger. The Thunderhawks being kept shined and the Stormbirds engines being prayed on keeping the corrupted machine spirits happy.

Looking at a Thunderhawk being cleaned I see a mutated mortal working on. He has two large horns coming out of his head, his arms seem to be buffed out and you could clearly see the vein and arteries with my enchanted Astartes version. Each one is just filled with blood, delicious blood. 

I go back to thinking of my old squad before I go on a killing rampage again, and I could only give myself a deep sigh. For those memories is all I have left from the Great Crusade and the years afterward. So little to hold on to, if only if only. 

I then get up leaving the hanger bay. As I walk down the corridors everything lays dark and only lights are from passing slaves from the dark hall I slowly walk through the battle barge to my quarters. Each step seems to last forever as time seems to stand still.

I look at a brother Astartes and nod to him. He can clearly be seen to be corrupted with large horns coming out of his shoulder blades ending up making a cracked heart. His bolter was given an almost reddish taint with it seemly having screaming souls trying to get out trapped inside of the bolter. I then look away to not be drawn to him and continue on my walk.

When I reach my quarters I sit there silent removing my helmet and lay it on my table. My jet black hair comes out and I do a quick fix to make sure none of it gets into my eyes. Slowly I sit in the center of the small room I call my quarters and start to meditate, thinking of what is to come. 

This will be the planet, this will be the time where I will have to find another member to join my Claw. I cannot believe it myself. It has been 5,000 years since my last brother died against the Aeldari.

Continue the meditation in my room for the next few hours. The silence giving me an almost peaceful feeling as the screams of the mortals I have killed echo in my head. So many innocents killed, so many lives taken. I keep this up until a knock could be heard. That could only be one person, my personal slave.

    “Come in,” I say then my servant Vesta, comes into the room. She is a 15-year-old girl, born from the bloodline of our destroyed homeworld. Nostramo, what a place that planet was.

“My lord” she does a curtsy.  Her black hair and pure black eyes seem to just fade perfectly in the background of the darkened ships. I hear her breathing as well as she slowly closes the door. I could almost sense the fear in her, even after all of these years she is still afraid of me. I shake my head in disapproval. 

    “Hello Vesta,” I say my voice echoes the small room.

    “It is time for the planetary assault master” I hear her quiet voice against my booming one.

“Fine, follow me.” I sigh and stand up and mag lock my helmet and grab my weapons with Vesta following behind me as I walk slowly to make sure she can keep up without needing to run. Just a small thing to make her life easier I say. As if it can be easier. This isn’t really the best of lives. Maybe I should just drop her off in a world we pass by in order to give her real life. I take more than a moment to think about this and find myself all of a sudden standing right in the middle of the path blocking a squad of cultist infantry. Shaking my head I push my way through the group to meet with Vesta who is on the other side.

Vesta looks at me with a curious face, “My lord you are distressed aren’t you?” She then tilts her head a little to show a hint of confusion, or is it wonderful? I honestly lost track of those emotions over the years. 

“Of course Vesta, when am I not? I have done so much wrong, please be specific.” I would say.

“About this mission, are you reflecting about your… friends?” Her reply was sweet but you can tell there was a little worry about me attacking her. I tend not to do that anymore but I can understand her feeling. I wasn’t always so, nice. 

    “Yes,” I told her. It was a half-truth if anything, I am always thinking about them, but that is not my main worry.

She nods her head in respect, “Do you wish to talk about it?” The young girl would say

“No, not this time, ”those words would say all that is needed to be said. 

“Alright my lord, thank you for answering my question my lord,” Vesta would say respectfully.

I slowly move my powered armored gauntlet to her head and I pat her like a dog. Giving an awkward smile she tries to act like it is alright, but you can see in her eyes she was in pain.

Lovely

Us two continue to walk our slow walk through the Battle Barge of the 8th. We pass by the normal sort of characters you find on a ship like this. Each one all normal once you get used to being around here. 

An example of this will be a mutated follower of Slaanesh we pass by. His arms are less flesh more metal now. As for his legs or leg? It is merged to make him look like a Naga, one of the half snake half human people. The chest section is now covered with scales with the navel being a place where tentacles come out. Although the face might be the most mutated with it just being a painful mess. With the ear on top of his head, the lack of a nose, two mouths, and eyes. Damn those eyes, that are both bee and human at the same time. Everyone blink just seems to make it switch.

From that point, my slave and I continue walking to reach the hanger bay. Always silence, it is almost to perfect for me sometimes. The quiet is something I do enjoy yes, but it is still meaningless to me. It just does not give me the feeling as if doing it with brothers. We would always have a little fun on our way to the dreadclaw, or any other mean of transportation from ship to whatever we decided to attack that day.

“I have another question master,” my slave then would break the silence. Her voice echoing down the hallways of the ship.

I do a low growl at her as if in anger, although really inside I am partly relieved that the silence has been broken. “What do you want slave?”

“Do you wish to find new recruits, my lord?” Her voice was fearful after hearing me growl. Almost fearing another one of my beatings. The terror in it pleases me to some level but also saddens me. She shouldn’t be scared of me. Vesta has been with me eight years now, and she even has a necklace telling this girl is my property! She should know that she is my first slave in am age.

Finally, after a long moment of pause, I say, “If they are strong yes. This is a loyalist recruiting world after all slave.”

“Thank you for answering again my lord,” the fear start die down in her voice. Good, for a moment I thought it was about to get worse as well.

Another five minutes pass and I take a large sigh. This is taking too long, “You walk slow slave.”

“Yes, I apologize, my lord,” she says looking at me. Damn those eyes, they are just. They remind me of something I just wish I knew what those eyes tell me.

I then after the moment passes groan, and pick Vesta up. Her weight being nothing to me as toss her for a moment to adjustment myself. Once I do I catch her and then carry my slave as a parent would do to a baby.

“Thank you for carrying me my lord,” she says to me.

“Like always Vesta,” I reply secretly doing a smile under my helmet. Now only if I could tell if that smile was real. They are almost never, but I hope that one was real.

Vesta looks down the hallway to see slaves and soldiers pass by many looking to see this odd picture. An Astartes carrying a mortal girl, always a sight to see. I then look down to see her face blush and an awkward smile comes out. “No matter how many times we do this I still don’t feel that this should be allowed, my lord”

“Well then maybe you should walk faster then, slave,” I say to her in a, what is that word? Playful? I am not sure.

After our “chat” I go to a run. With my slave trying to keep herself from getting sick and having another incident in the corridors of the Battle Barge. Now we are making real time.

I keep on this run until we reach near the hanger bay. The noise is the most obvious indicator of what is going on. From there I set down my slave on the floor her head still spinning from the ride she just had.

“Master, may I request a…” she falls as she tries to get up. “Master, may I request a warning before you do such an action?” She then tries to get up again this time making it and placing herself on a wall.

“No,” it is not as fun, I then add in my head.

My slave then finally manages to adjust herself and look at my helmet. She really does look like someone I know. Damn it, I need to stop thinking this. It is this all the time. My slave has been only with me 8 years out of 10,000. She has no rights and is nobody that I may know from before.
“Now let us get moving into the hanger bay slave,” I tell the girl. And I then go into the main part of the hanger bay, with Vesta behind me trying to keep up. With a look back I see her eyes wandering to all the surrounding. From the aircraft, to workers, to Astartes, the girl is always curious. Then I notice she pull out her necklace that tell that I claim her as my slave. It gives out a small shine as the it gives out a breath to the world. On the necklace is an emerald with the carving of a crying wolf.
Vesta stop after about halfway and waits for me behind one of the Thunderhawk gunships. From there I walk to where the rest of the 14th Company is lining up in the hanger bay. All waiting for Captain Ezrath to come and shot his ass off once again. Looking I quickly count everyone here as I wait in the back of the company. 70 Astartes, including me, oh how our numbers dropped over the last 10,000 years. Very few remain from the heresy now with many being a more recent inclusion into the 8th Legion.

After that, all I do is wait. We are lacking discipline anyway, there is no need for the strict protocols of any normal military anymore. For a few minutes, I am there many try to talk to me. All with some sort of goal, the main is, of course, asking me to join their Claw for I am the most skilled at the in the blade in the whole Warband. 

I cast away all request of joining their claw and attempts at duels to prove that they are better than me with simple hand gestures. One who tried though got fairly close to me so I had to do the classic armored punch to the face to get the Astartes out of the way. A rather pissed off Night Lord Claw Master now angrily stomped away. Great, now I am going to have to duel him.

    Just lovely

    After a few more minutes of this pain, I see a horn call out as Captain Ezrath of the 14th Company appears guarded by two power ax-wielding Astartes. Not the most graceful of weapons like my swords but it will be hard to deny the effectiveness of such weapons. His small group walks to the front of the mob, yes that is a good word, a mob of murders. 

    The man, if that word can be used like that, start to talk. Well, I say rant but you get the point. I like Ezrath and all, he was my Claw Leader before he became captain post heresy, but by the Dark Gods does he talk a lot. It is the ever classic, KILL, SLAUGHTER, BURN, CAPTURE, etc. Chaos worshipper’s usage of words is not amazing as you might know.

    Well while this all happened I decided to go through all data we managed to take from the Alpha Legion about this planet. I started to read the information that has been given to me. Hoorloth is the name, Feudal world population 20 million… The standard sort of planet really with most of the population on a single one of its many land masses. It is fairly easy to see why we are going searching for an easy target. 

    Next, I took a look at planetary defenses. Nothing, outside of the PDF and of course the recently built Black Templar outpost. Knowing my luck I will toss into the fighting there and somehow be expected to kill whatever small force lays there. Not like I couldn’t pull it off but killing untrained Astartes is just too easy. And I do not like going easy.

    I start to notice that Ezrath the loud mouth has finally stopped rambling and that the company started to scatter. With each claw going to find their way to Thunderhawks, Storm Eagles and what other sorts of troop transports. The cheering and talk of slaughter between brothers gave me a strange feeling in my chest. Sighing I was about to leave as well until I heard my name being called.

    “BROTHER SAMUARK, THE CLAWLESS, THE SWORDMASTER AND ONE OF MANY TITLES,” Ezrath shouted at me from about five meters away from me.

    “What do you want Captain Ezrath of the 14th Company of the Night Lords Legion,” I would reply back in a mocking way. 

  He seemed to have not noticed and continued talking. “I will put you with the Raptors of 6th Claw, and 9th Claw to take the Black Templar outpost. I trust you will help lead them to victory and slaughter!” For once he seemed to have dropped volume. 

“Sure, although I say just send me in and I can take care of all of it. I do not trust some over barring zealot over my skill at simply not being noticed.” I reply mocking the more “newer” Claws, although, by all means, the oldest of them is 5,000 years old at this point. Bloody 37th Millennium bastards. Trust me they have the easy life of raiding and slaughter.

    “Nonsense! They will help you in this mission since they will be providing you with the perfect distractions. And if you are worried about getting killed, I heard that the guardians are rather new to their job. “Recent” recruits to the Templars, easy to see how desperate the Empire is now eh?” He would say, also a rather low volume, must be using the mufflers in his helmet. Goes to show how important the mission is. The seizing of geneseed and the hunt for the acolytes of this outpost is too important to be over heard by eager to prove Astartes. 

    I nodded my head and then away now to feel Ezrath’s right power armored gauntlet touch my shoulder. “Final thing brother, you have to take one of the acolytes under you. You have to rebuild your claw now. I am not for one of the best swordsmen in the Legion to die without passing any of his skills. And this is an order, not a request Samuark, so understand what must be done.” 

    I was about to say something is decided not to and without even looking back I left to prepare for the fight. I had a moment to think about the thought. A brother, an Imperial Fist of all Legions. They were my cousins, by all means, even the heresy won’t change that. It just seems so strange still, I would rather not do this but I think I am trapped in a corner now. Never was ordered like this before, maybe with the Eye opening and times finally changing I should change as well.

    I realized I was most likely over thinking all of this. I then bump into Vesta causing her to hit her head on my power armor due to how fast I was going causing her to fall to the ground. I just look at her as she tries to get up. You know I should probably pick her up or something? Is that what I am supposed to do? I then decided yes I should pick her up. Though when I reached my hand all I did was punch her in the face since she already was up causing her to fall down….. That was not planned.

    “Ouch!” Vesta screamed in pain as she holds onto her nose which received most of the punch. “Why must you do this master?”

    Without even taking a moment I said what I always say to victims I torture. “Because I enjoy it.” …… Did I? Nevermind I must run with this mistake.

    Without saying anything she got herself up again and had a frightful sort of look. This is what I get I guess. I can never understand these mortals. So many emotions that seem to have so little meaning. I always hear emotions like happiness, excitement, envy, and love. Oh, love that one truly does disgust me. Love is meaningless, for only the ones who ever need such a thing are the ones who fell. The irony of it is that they should have been loved long before they have died. For only after death is people truly loved.  

After she gets back up I took a look at her again. “Vesta we will be here on the planet for a few days if not weeks and will be setting up a camp. I need you to get on one of the first landing ships the cultist is going to take and set up camp,” I say.

“Yes master,” She said still covering her nose making her voice muffled. 

I now walk away to the Stormbird where both 6th and 9th Claw are waiting for me. The 15 Astartes cheer in their standard war cries as they see me approach them. I hear things like, the clawless has come, Samuark Angst champion of the 14th has come! The standard, by all means, I have gotten used to this sort over the years. The youngers love me for some reason. I can never truly tell why.

Walking inside the Stormbird I hear the alarms go off saying that we have are now preparing to make planetfall. A planetary raid, which number is this again? Thousand? Ten thousand? Hundred thousand? I have lost count over the years. I then seat down on one of the many seats inside as the other two Claws slowly enter as well. 

Waiting for a few minutes as the tech priest makes a final pray, I listen to the sounds of the Stormbird. Inside you could, of course, hear the two claws. The loud chatter of blood, victims, and battle always make the young ones happy. I use to be like that as well. Although my old claw use to talk of honor, glory, and doing the right thing. 

Ironic

Ignoring the claws you could also hear the engine of the Stormbird. During the Crusade, we called this one, “Draining the Light.” Now, of course, we do not call it such a thing anymore. For names on these machines have slowly become pointless when they are slowly being mutated. I could already feel the chair being almost flesh, not the metal it was originally made out of. It would soon change into something else, something alive and daemonic. 

After spending more moments listening to the sounds around me I then hear the alarm inside the Stormbird ring. Ready for blood, ready for war. The engines then suddenly flare too life as the Stormbird takes off. A second was all it took for the beauty to go into the void and slowly make its way onto the planet, 

Now the most painful part of it all. Waiting. I took another moment to check my surroundings under my Mark IV Helmet. The sounds echo in my ears as I catch the chatter of the two claws. Well, chatter might be a hard word to use for the mindless screams and rants the two units ended up doing. Blood for the Blood God seemed to be the most common thing said for some reason. Shaking my head I decide to turn off all sound in my helmet preventing me from hearing the pointless rants. 

I really wish I could say it worked, all it did was block out half of the sounds coming from the Astartes. I wonder now if Ezrath only did this to annoy me? Why out of all the Claws I get a Tactical and Raptor Claw? Why not 5th Claw, they are a Havoc and Tactical lead by the same Clawmaster as in the days of the heresy. I would rather have them than any other one. Even the 10th a now Slaanesh worshipping Claw would be better than this. 

I do my best to ignore the mindless chatter until I hear the alarm going out again. The talking now stops as the Raptors of 6th Claw stand up as the door opens. First, each one readys their chainaxe, chainsword, or whatever else they are using as a melee ready. 

Next as always, their range weapons. The Raptors go by the process of checking their bolt pistols, plasma pistols or bolters, grabbing whatever ammo they can from the Stormbird. The careful procedure would make you think these are Loyalist and not the Traitors that they truly are. 

Third the most important of all, the jump packs. 6th Claw grabs the jump packs from inside storage compartments inside of the Stormbird each fitting them on one by one. These jump packs are all given a different look. From your basic horns to beautifully well-crafted pieces of art that must have taken weeks if not more to complete. 

Fourth, the seven Raptors lineup for the jump doing final checks to their gear. The words ready could be heard six times as the Clawmaster demands his men to prepare for the jump. Each of the sevens’ voices booming inside the small Stormbird. 

Finally, now you can hear the sergeant yell the orders to jump. I now watch as the Raptors jump in their twos. The first two almost gracefully jump as you can hear the sounds of their jump packs roar to life to adjust for air current. The next two do the same as the true perfection of their art is shown off. The same goes for the 5th and 6th Raptors of 6th Claw. Then you had the Sergeant, who of course made his over the top. He decided to walk back and slowly fall down the Stormbird letting gravity do its work.

I check my clock to see how much time it took them to do the whole process. Ten seconds, little slow but not too bad overall I would say. I have seen Loyalist taking twice as long, having to follow their ever so faithful “Codex Astartes” as if that would ever do them any good. Just an excuse for Guilliman to flex his power, not like I haven’t seen him do it before the heresy. And with his new Empire, I feel he will want to do another show of power over all. 

The alarm then goes again as I feel the Stormbird slow down for the landing. Standing up now I walk to the still open door, gripping one of the handlebars. I let my filters open as I feel the rich in oxygen air. Now, this is a planet I would want to stay for a while in. Not like that industrial hive from the 13th Black Crusade we had to burn down for the Warmaster. 

“AVE DOMINUS NOX!” I then shout at the top of my lungs as I the Stormbird comes to a sudden halt. “WAR FOR THE CHAOS GODS,” I jump out of Stormbird, landing upon the concrete of the small Black Templar outpost. So it begins, my hunt for another brother.

7th Panzer Division Order of Battle for Opersation Yellow

this will be the Battle of France since I am talking about this first. It of course has an HQ which has the 58. Motorcycle Platoon and 58. Mapping Detachment which is a motorized unit. The main body which was the 25th Panzer Regiment, which had two Panzer Battalions, Panzer Signals Platoon, Light Panzer Staff Platoon and a band. Yes you heard me right, the ever so famous 7th Panzer Division had a band in one of it’s core units. Two Infantry Regiments, the 7th Motorcycle Battalion (Which is the unit I am talking about when talking about their vanguard). The 37th Panzer Reconnaissance Battalion, which had a motorized Signal Platoon, two armoured car companies, something called a Heavy Company, I am going to guess stuff like heavy weapons, I honestly have no clue about this. And finally in the 37th Panzer Reconnaissance Battalion a supply unit. The 78th Artillery Regiment which of course was motorized, that unit would have shown it’s worth when crossing the river as we already went over that is for sure. The 78th Artillery Regiment would have signal platoon, a weather detachment, meteorologist basically if you want something for comparison, and of course two battalion of artillery. Next up is the 42nd Panzerabwehr Battalion, this where the stuff like the Flak 88s will most likely be in along with other anti air weapons, this will have a signals platoon, with two anti aircraft battalions and of course a unit of the ever so famous Flak 88s. Now we have the 83rd Signals Battalion which will be made up of a Telephone Company, Radio Company, and a Light Signals Supply Column. I for one had no idea a unit like this existed, I feel like someone is going to attack me over this, hopefully not. Finally on 7th Panzer Order of Battle for the campaign in France is the 58th Pioneer Battalion. This battalion will be made up of a mechanized company, (halftracks, ya this unit is going to be in the front line that is for sure), two motorized engineer companies, Brüko B, (So i am reading about this because i had no clue about this one to but this time I found info, this is for building bridges, huh), finally a  Light Pioneer Supply Column. The rest is stuff like supply units. Well then that is 7th Panzer Division the Ghost Division’s Order of Battle.

Warhammer 40k Character Bio: Vesta Koncende

Vesta Koncende

Age: 15

Homeworld: Void Born

Legion: Night Lords

Rank: Slave

Equipment: Vide (Lasgun) Krize (Dagger)

Appearance: Black hair down to her hips, pure black eyes, rounded ears, fanged teeth, rounded nose, and 5.7 feet (may change idk she is way taller than me)

Bio: Born on a cursed Night Lords Battle Barge under parents were forced to breed due to being pure Nostramons. Although on a few weeks after she was born an Astartes, Samuark Angst went on a killing rampage on the lower levels of the ship killing dozens of slaves. Right after he tore her parents limb from limb he finally stopped at her crying body. Him after seeing this and under an honor code decided in order to pay off his debt protect this child from the shadows. This worked well for the next few years and Vesta was raised by basically being passed by slave to slave in the lower levels. She grew up knowing nothing basically outside of what was in her little part of the world. Thanks to this she has a need to learn and explore the galaxy. Vesta would live like this, without seeing a single Astartes again until her 7th birthday in which in middle of celebration another Astartes came in butchering slaves. She was doomed to die until Samuark came to help repay his honor debt, coming in to save her last moment. Days would pass until Samuark came once again but this time for something else. Finding her in a corner still fearful of Astartes, he would get to eye level for her and take her. Like literally just take her. Let us just say Astartes are not good with people. For the next few weeks she will basically not listen to him, and would fight him at any chance. As the weeks went on though she would finally get close with him. After that he taught her how to be a proper slave of the Night Lords Legion, although better than most. Samuark planned for her to last her whole life and whatever he can do to extend said life. Vesta was taught everything about anything that the galaxy can offer up for her. Not just the basics of how to serve and Astartes but herself. As times went on she got use to the life of being a slave of Samuark Angst . It became normal and better than anything she could have gotten being a normal slave in the bottom decks of the ship. Of course now that she is 15 everything is changing all at once. With a new Astartes in 2nd Claw, more slaves, and many other things along with a feeling she just cannot figure out with Samuark. Who know what is going to happen?

Warhammer 40k Character Bio: Samuark Angst

Samuark Angst
Age: {REDACTED}
Homeworld: Nostramo

Legion: Night Lords

Rank: Sergeant

Equipment: Vetterschaft (Power Sword), Foyer (Gladius) Zuster (Bolter), Legataire (Bolt Pistol), others may be used

Appearance: Black hair all the way down to the shoulders, rounded ears, pointed nose, and black eyes.

Bio: Born on the destroyed world of Nostramo during the middle of Konrad’s reign of terror. He is a few of the Night Lords Legion to not come from such a terrible background and was into a son of nobles of Nostramo. When he was 10 Samuark was taken from his family and given his new name when becoming a Night Lord. Fighting in the Great Crusade he encountered many from all 18 (20) legions from that glorious time seeing many figures. Ranging from, Mortal, Astsrtes, Primarchs and even the Emperor of Mankind. One of the most important events will be during that time saved an Imperial Fist from and Ork Warboss killing the Ork in the action. This was received well and he was gifted a power sword so well crafted it is rumored Vulkan had a hand in it and to do this day he uses it. Once the Horus Heresy started, Samuark sided with his primarch Konrad Cruze. He will fight in many battles during the heresy that would concluded at the Battle of Terra. Which after the death of the Warmaster would flee with his brothers to the Eastern Fringes to the planet of Tsagualsa. Where Konrad was killed by the assassin M’Shen. He then, as a sergeant in the 14th Company would follow a small group of 500 Night Lords fleeing into the Eye to slowly rebuild and expand into what it is now. During this time he lost each and everyone of his squadmates, brothers in fact until during the 5th Black Crusade his last brother would be killed by an Aeldari Farseer….. He vows that he will never have another brother and doesn’t own a single slave due to his honor and finding that he doesn’t deserve such a privilege. His ideals are honor, brotherhood, and blood. Without these he believes he will fall from whatever grace he has left. Although he does have a flaw. Samuark will go into blood madden crazys and one of these changed everything. This Warband still haves many purebred Nostramons on board and they did their best to keep the blood of Nostramo strong. Samuark in a craze would kill two of these purebreds who have a female baby. That, as if fate decided, (or something else yet to be found?) stopped his craze. After realizing what he has done, and his honor couldn’t let him just kill the child, vowed to keep this baby alive. For the next few years he will carefully watch this child until she was seven. That was when one of his brothers would go with one of his blood crazes and would be only a few centimeters of death, would save this child by blocking hit while holding him off until his craze stops. Once that happened he decided that he, Samuark Angst would take this child as a Legion Slave. Once this happened his loneliness for the pass 5,000 has finally changed. He teaches his servant all his beliefs and trained her to be as useful as possible. From proper manners, honor, all forms of languages and many other things. Sadly for him, he sucks with people and cannot detect human emotion well. So that isn’t really the best for him. This would go on until eight years later he would take a Black Templar Acolyte as a Clawmate. He would get a sorcerer to make this acolyte loyal to the Night Lords by making him lose almost all his memories from his childhood and religious study from the Black Templars. Now everything is changing, the Clawless will finally have a Claw, it is only a matter of time.

7th Panzer Divison “Ghost Division” before Fall Gelb

This is just taken from my Histrocial Account LegionOfHistory, so pardon me for the transition.

The 2nd Light Division was founded on 10th of November 1938 in Thuringia Germany. It had about 85 tank (43 Panzer Ones, and 42 Panzer Twos) and would serve in the invasion of Poland. So let us talk about Light Division because you guys for some weird reason picked a unit with not a lot of history. How effective were these units? Well they were smaller than a standard Panzer Division, had less firepower due to that, and many other factors that really didn’t make them good, in fact I would say it would have be simpler if they just merged some of these units or just used regiments until the Germans could form them into Panzer units since they did that after the invasion of Poland might as well just start early. So they broke open Polish lines on the 1st September 1939, and just rolled over the Poland’s defences. Afterwards they would take part in the Battle of the Bzura. This battle would result in the shattering of the Polish army. Days later the 2nd Light Division would reach Warsaw and be recalled back to Germany for preparation for the invasion of France. Although in the middle of it on the 18th of October 1939 the unit would finally be disbanded. Seriously Light Divisions were not the best idea Germany had if you ask me. Those just won’t as effective as Panzer Divisions. So after being disbanded the 2nd Light Divisions would be reformed into the 7th Panzer Division. For anyone who was confused by this here is the reason why. Next time we will be talking about the 7th Panzer Division “Ghost Division.” Oh will this one be long and glorious. So for real, let us talk about the 7th Panzer Division. For total tanks before the invasion of France 7th Panzer has a total of 34 Panzer 1s, 68 Panzer 2s, 24 Panzer 4s, and 91 Panzer 38(t)s. After being reformed they would be assigned 2nd Army Corps but for the invasion of the west they would be transferred over to 15th Panzer Corps under General Hermann Hoth and they even got a new leader. So I guess we shall also talk about Erwin Rommel. Well, I guess the thought of this was: “Let us put an infantryman in charge of tanks! What could possibly go wrong?” From what we can see now is that this was the right choice for the unit. Rommel proved himself a worthy commander and the person for the job. He would study tanks and the way of war that goes with Panzers. Erwin Rommel will also train his men to work as a team, and fight together as brothers. Along with that he would also find that he would be followed by a team that works with propaganda, turns out that the 7th Panzer Division will be getting a lot of media attention. For the next couple months the division would be given training in all types of conditions, in the rain, in the snow, and in the night to just name a few. Some of this training would prove critical for the invasion to come. The ideas and that tactics that would be the centerpiece of all of this will be of course “lighting warfare” (Which was never really a thing it was something that came up later on, at the end of the day it was just based off the old tactics used beforehand) using combined arms and speed they will hopefully crush the British and French. Although during this whole time now one really planned for if this would actually work at all. If anything German high command expected to see a repeat of the Great War. Did that happen? Of course not! Well then next time we will be going through the invasion the part of the 7th Panzer Divisions story in France and Lowlands.