The doors of the Leman Russ opened, spewing black smoke and burning Guardsmen from the crew compartment. They rolled desperately in the dust while screaming in agony as the flames consumed them.

Leonid held on for dear life as bright spears of lascannon fire ripped through the armoured hulls of his Chimeras with ease. Vehicles exploded in quick succession, slewing from the line and belching thick plumes of smoke.

He was flung sideways as his driver threw the Chimera into a series of screeching turns in an effort to throw off the enemy gunners' aim. The Chimera crashed into the rear quarter of the burning tank and the roaring of its engine intensified as the frantic driver gunned the engine and attempted to barge the heavier tank out of his way. But the Leman Russ was wedged tight and immovable.

Leonid dropped into the Chimera's crew compartment and slammed the rear ramp release lever, yelling, 'Everybody out! Go! Go! Go!'

His command squad needed no prompting. To stay in the Chimera was to die. Leonid hustled his men down the ramp before following them into the confusion of the battle. He had barely cleared the ramp when a missile ripped through the side of the Chimera. With the rear ramp open, much of the force of the explosion was vented outwards, but still the tank was lifted into the air by the blast. Leonid staggered, feeling as though a giant fist had swatted him to the ground. He spat dirt, a terrific ringing in his ears. He turned to see Ellard, his sergeant, yelling at him, but he couldn't make out the words. The sergeant pointed towards the enemy trench line and Leonid nodded, hauling himself to his feet.

He saw Trooper Corde dragging a body, its sky blue jacket splattered red. He shouted, but realised he stood little chance of being heard over the roar of explosions and gunfire.

Confusion reigned supreme as he saw scores of tanks and Chimeras belching noxious black smoke. A hand grabbed his shoulder and he turned as Sergeant Ellard handed him his rifle. The sergeant had already fixed the bayonet for him and Leonid nodded his thanks.

Bodies lay everywhere. On tanks. On the ground. Blood, fire, noise and screams.

All he could smell was smoke, burning oil and flesh.

Another vehicle exploded and he dropped to the ground, losing his grip on his rifle as red hot fragments scythed overhead, pinging on the side of another tank.

Dim snatches of desperate shouts came to him. Shouted questions that made no sense. Calls for support, medics and extraction. Soldiers lay all around in the oil-slick dust firing their rifles at the trench line. Without conscious thought, he grabbed his rifle from the ground, shouldered it and began firing until the charge counter read empty.

He removed the empty power cell and slammed in a fresh one. It took him two attempts; his hands were shaking so much.

All around him, surviving tanks fired their main guns whilst their drivers desperately zigzagged in an attempt to evade the enemy fire. Some succeeded and began returning fire against the traitors. Those that did not were quickly isolated and blown apart.

Leonid slithered across to Sergeant Ellard, who handed him a vox-unit as he ripped off his helmet and put the handset to his mouth.

'Princeps Fierach? We need a fire mission now! Come in please! Where are you?'

The vox hissed and spat static at Leonid as he continued to call for help. 'Princeps Fierach, anybody, come in, damn it! Acknowledge please!'

Garbled voices and more static were his only reply, and he threw down the handset in disgust.

'Colonel!' screamed Ellard, 'What's happening? Where the hell's our Titan support?'

Leonid scooped up his helmet, pushed it on and said, 'Damned if I know, sergeant.'

Another explosion rocked the earth close by. 'Sound off!' Leonid shouted, 'Who's missing?'

Corde yelled, 'Commissar Pasken and Lieutenant Ballis are dead and Lonov is wounded. I doubt he'll make it.'

Leonid nodded stoically and flinched as another vehicle exploded nearby. The squad was in bad shape, their faces blackened and terrified. For many of them, it was their first real taste of hard combat and he knew that one of two emotions would win out here: fear or courage.

In the first heat of battle an infantryman would be plunged into a flash flood of emotions. Terror, anger, guilt and hate. All the feelings that boiled to the surface when confronted with the prospect of dying or killing another human being. In the right combination they would carry a man forwards to the enemy, as a fearsome, merciless killer. But equally they could send him fleeing in terror back to his own lines. Some men were born with the right combination, others needed it hammered into them.

It was his job to make sure he got the best out of his men and he knew that they were close to going either way. He'd have to push them to get the fires of anger burning in their hearts. To stay here would drain their courage to the point that not even the threat of a commissar would get them moving.

He scrambled to the edge of their shelter and ducked his head around the gutted Chimera, trying to get a feel for the situation.

By the Emperor, it was bad! The sky blazed red and black as scores of tanks burned fiercely and countless bodies littered the bloody ground. Heavy weapons fire was sporadic now as the drivers whose vehicles had escaped the initial slaughter took refuge behind their wrecked comrades. They were trapped, realised Leonid.

What the hell had happened to the Titans?

'Cycle the auto loaders!' yelled Princeps Fierach, 'and get those void shields back up!'

The Imperator Bellum was closing the gap between it and the Dies Irae, but it had taken a punishing barrage from the leviathan's hellstorm cannon. From a distance the massive barrels appeared to be turning at a leisurely tempo, but the rate of fire was deceptive and explosive shells had almost stripped them of their protective void shields in a single volley.

'Moderati Setanto, charge the plasma generators! Prepare to fire plasma cannon!'

'Yes, princeps!' replied the weapons officer.

Fierach knew that if they were to defeat this monster they had to quickly knock down the Dies Irae's shields or close with it and take it down in close quarter battle. Neither prospect promised to be easy.

Fierach saw the Honoris Causa rock under a volley of gunfire from the enemy Titan, the enormous machine reeling under the ferocious impacts. The Warlord staggered, one massive foot slamming down on the salient of the enemy trench system, crushing two bunkers and a score of men. One of the Titan's arms slammed into the ground, sending up a tall plume of dust, the other flailing wildly as Princeps Daekian fought for balance.

Fierach stepped forward to shield the Honoris Causa and raised his weapon arms as Moderati Setanto shouted, 'Plasma cannon fully charged, princeps!'

'I have you now!' snarled Fierach as he unleashed a torrent of white-hot plasma at the devil machine before him. The viewscreen darkened as the bolts struck the Dies Irae, its void shields flaring as they overloaded under the onslaught of the Imperator Helium's guns. It was still shielded, but the range was closing.

The Reavers of Battle Group Sword circled to Fierach's right, using their superior speed to flank the enemy Titan. A flurry of powerful laser blasts overloaded the void shields of the lead Reaver and even as its crew realised their danger, an incandescent pulse of energy slashed from the Dies Irae's plasma annihilator and hammered into the command bridge in the head section.

Fierach shouted a denial as he saw a huge explosion rip the head from the Reaver and topple the machine. Gracefully, the Reaver collapsed, its artificially generated muscle movements dying with its princeps. The machine's knees buckled and it smashed into the ground in a vast cloud of red ash. The remaining four Reavers scattered as Fierach shouted for more speed.