On my coordinates! (IG 40k)

[Redeye]

”Every man must die at some time. That time is decided solely by the Emperor.
And when that time comes, we must accept it with great pride. Do not fear, for
it is not the death that calls upon you, for it is the Immortal Emperor.
You have done your duty well Guardsmen. Now, let us go to Him.”

Major Morgan’s words lifted the spirits of his men, and with pride they stood up
backs straight and saluted. For the Major, for the Emperor.
Morgan raised vox-caster’s microphone.

“This is Major Morgan to 442nd Artillery. Our position is about to be overrun by
Chaos traitors. 442nd Artillery! Pierce the sky, Tear the ground open, let His wrath
fall from the heavens! On my coordinates!”

Like a distant war cry of a great army, a mighty roar filled the skies as the full batteries of the 442nd Artillery fired all of their earthshaker cannons at the same time.

It is written in the Imperial Guard doctrine that if an officer’s position is about to be overrun, he must immediately call an artillery strike on his position, using his own location as coordinates for the strike. Major Morgan did just that, proving that he had the faith and the willpower to sacrifice all that was needed to deliver Emperor’s judgement upon his foes. The faith and the willpower to sacrifice his men’s lives, his own life.

Morgan was saved by a miracle. Shielded by a fallen traitor terminator’s armour, he somehow lived the terrible force of the Imperial artillery. Now, he bears horrific scarves as proof of his resolve. He was awarded with the Medallion Crimson and the rank of Colonel. He was a hero, but he had not always been.
Alan Morgan was born in Mordian and was adopted by the military when he was 8 years old. He learned the hierarchy of the Imperial Guard at a very young age.

“You will serve those superior to you. You will fight alongside those equal to you. You are a mere child, lower than the lowest military rank. Thus, you will be inferior to everyone. Those who are inferior must obey the orders of those who are superior without question. Someday you will become an Imperial Guardsman. Then you will fight alongside those equal to you, the other guardsmen. You will obey the will of those superior to you, the officers. One day you may become an officer too, having the honor of commanding lower ranks of infantry. But whatever you will become, whatever your rank is, you are always inferior to one person. That person is the God-Emperor of Mankind. No one may ever stand by His side as equal. No one is ever superior to Him. We all are inferior to Him, and thus, must obey His will without doubt, without disagreeing thought.”

Once he asked why Mordian Iron Guard used bright parade uniforms while other regiments used camouflaged ones.

“Drill and discipline. With them are battles won. A well drilled soldier does not need to hide in the terrain for he is such a powerful weapon even by his own. A well disciplined soldier does not need to trust his cover for he trusts his superiors.
Drill and discipline. You need both to be victorious. Without the other, the other dies.”

Alan Morgan rose in the ranks by his faith and by his tactical skill. After two decades of fighting, he was horribly injured while defending Lycratia III from chaos attack. It was a hopeless battle, enemy overwhelming the Guard by their numbers. However, thanks to Morgan’s tactical thinking, the Guard was able to hold their line against the Chaos Space Marines. After days of frustration, the Warmaster leading the Chaos forces decided to send his best to the fray, attempting to break trought the Imperial lines. As the horde of traitor terminators advanced despite the large number of Guard heavy weapons, Morgan decided to wait the traitors to reach his position and then call artillery strike to the very same place. His heroic deed crushed the Chaos elite, resulting in Chaos withdrawal from the planet after days of unsuccessful battles. But the legend of Alan Morgan was not over, it had just begun.

After another two decades of active service in the Guard, Alan Morgan was a Marshal of the Mordian Iron Guard, veteran of campaigns against Chaos across the Imperium. Now he had been defending Imperial planet Hogus II from Chaos attacks for over three years. As a center of food production the fall of Hogus II would swiftly result in the fall of surrounding planets as well.

Morgan fought alongside his honor company in the frontline, keeping Chaos forces at bay with their unbreakable resolve. Another wave rushed in. One Chaos Space Marine was able to break trought the dense las-fire and immediately charged Morgan, the officer in charge. Along the way this wretched traitor shot Morgan’s bodyguard to pieces and killed another with a stab from a crude blade attached to his bolter. Morgan vaulted forward, crouched under traitor’s strike, and launched an uppercut with his powerfist, straight to the heretic’s face. “Hopeless. Our lines will be broken once more. The solar system will fall. Unless… Is this my fate? Is this the Emperor’s will?” Morgan was sad about his oncoming end, but was still utterly determined. He knew that this is the time. The Emperor demands his sacrifice and nothing less. Morgan stood up. “Bring me the vox!” A veteran guardsman carried squad’s vox-caster for Morgan. He lifted the microphone. “You know the drill. On my coordinates.”

[Rebs]

Gutaa gutaa