Decided to do a little improv writing during Business class when i finished all the work, plenty of swearing in it so as Phobos would say:

The swear-filter should have a field day!
I hope you like it.

Its too quiet.
For Seconda anyway, the only noise we heard was the roar of the Thunderhawk Transport that dropped us off. Now it was like a ghost town.
For a Forge World thats usually a very bad sign.
I glanced to my left, most of the guys in my platoon were young, as was i, i was only 17 years old, and i joined the Guard to protect my lord and Emperor.
But now i was shitting my pants. At least half of the guys in my platoon couldn't have been much over 18 years old themselves, we were just a bunch of wild teenagers that wanted to have a good time, not fight in bloodbaths.
My Squad Sergeant, Willis i think his name is, was idley smoking a cigarette, like there wasn't a thing to worry about. he's such an *****, if i had the choice i'd put my *****ing Lasgun to his head and blow him apart right now. but that's not how the 57th Lorrar Rangers work.
We're supposed to be an elite army that can drop in and blast the ***** out of everything, but now here we are after receiving a Vox-Transmission from an Admiral Ghost that The Guardsmen Legions were in need of great assistance. Now there was noting left, not even any dead bodies of the Guardsmen that were fighting here before.
"Where the *****ing hell is every ****?" I heard one of the Conscripts behind me mutter to his friends.
"***** knows!" came the reply.
I was seriously shitting my trousers now, if there was something capable of taking out about 4 entire Guard armies what chance would we have?
I think someone else was feeling the same way as the stench of fresh turd floated past my nostrils.
Sergeant Willis turned round and looked at Private Green at the end of our ranks.
"Green! have you crapped yourself?"
Private Green, the poor *****, looked down at his feet and muttered in the affirmative.
"You scruff!" bellowed Willis "Get some fresh trousers from your pack and get yourself cleaned up."
Green jogged off and stripped his trousers down when it happened.
A great roar filled the air as shells bore down on us.
"Holy *****! Run for cover!" screamed Willis, if there was any time i could have laughed at him it would have been then, he was as *****ing scared as we were and had just been hiding it.
Guardsmen scattered in all directions and poor Private Green was caught unawares in his half naked state as Chaos Night Lords surround us, as Green tried to run with his crap-covered trousers a Chaos marine grabbed him and ripped his lower jaw clean off his face.
"YOU WILL ALL DIE WORSHIPPERS OF THE FALSE EMPEROR!" he screamed as he threw the bloody jaw on the ground as Private Green stumbled away trying to stop the waterfall of blood pouring from his face.

"All men fire!" came a battle cry from about 600 yards ahead of where we'd disembarked.
At least 200 bodies popped out of the rubble of a Manufactorium and stood poised ready.
"CHAOS SCUM, THE EMPEROR WILL DESTROY YOU AND YOUR DARK LORDS AND BANISH YOU TO THE FAECES OF HELL!" screamed a tall figure on the top floor of what was left of the Manufactorium's wall, he was clutching a Storm Bolter and the men around him were all holding Meltaguns and Missile Launchers. A floor below him was at least 10 sqauds of men equipped with heavy Bolters and Autocannons.
"Thank the *****ing Emperor, we're saved!" came a call from behind me.
Thank the *****ing Emperor indeed, I had a feeling this battle would be a long way from finished before we were saved.