Anngreth stared at the corpse as her ragged band marched through yet another prefabricated steel tunnel in the underbelly. The body of the civilian had been savaged and shot far beyond reason. The man was on his back with his chest ripped open. His entrails and organs were sliced up in him, bullet holes riddled his body, and ugly bruises and dents marred his face. The brutality of the kill was something she expected to see on the battlefield not in a hive city, but she gave no sign to her men that she was deeply worried about their chances of survival. Still, she held up a hand to halt. They could spare little time, but every wretch, no matter how pitiful, deserved some peace if the living could afford it. She moved up to the body and closed the swollen eyelids over the terror stricken eyes. A bespectacled, minor functionary of the ecclesiarchy glanced furtively around, as if whatever did this might squeeze through the seems in the walls and attack, but relented and muttered a brief consecration of the man’s soul to the Emperor. For her part, she muttered her hopes that the Ancestors would guard the man in the afterlife. But as they continued past the corpse, it became clear there would not be enough time to afford peace to every body they passed.
Earlier, she had woken up not knowing that today would be the end of Valerion. She had been summoned from an ale induced sleep to lead men to quell a “riot” near Valerion’s reactor. The infiltration of the terrorists was too swift for anyone to understand. The few men she could pull up from the barracks were also wasted. Still, with a few grumbled curses and promises of patrol duty in the sewer district if they didn’t get their lazy asses up, she assembled fifteen men from the barracks and led them downwards. Then she lost five in an ambush. Undeterred, she continued deeper, unaware that the reactor had already been blown and she was wasting her time. Along the way, they found an engineering crew and some other hapless civies. Just when they reached the electric district, the order came through on her data pad in dreadfully simple terms: CITY REACTOR IS COMPROMISED. GENERAL RETREAT FROM VALERION ORDERED BY HIGH COMMAND. ALL UNITS REPORT TO LOCOMOTIVE DISTRICT AND BOARD INDOMITABLE SPIRIT. The smattering of shell shocked recruits didn’t object when she turned them around. She had hated the idea of retreat. It reeked of the past, of the failure of her regiment and the decline of her folk. But passing through the gore splattered prefab tunnels sobered her thoughts. There was only death in Valerion.
Her body began to steadily throb with a familiar pain as the sound of distant, muffled gunshots could suddenly be heard. The guns of her squad went up around her, but she held up a hand. Though they towered over her, all of them halted.
“Our first mission is to get the civilians onto the train”, she spoke authoritatively in an accent that sounded strange to them, but it had given her something of a mystic over the years(OOC Danish accent). They nodded mutely. A green recruit broke the silence:
“What can we expect, Lieutenant?”
“Fanatic slayers of men, private”, she answered immediately and confidently, slipping into her leader’s voice. “From what we’ve seen, they deserve no mercy. And they’ll get none from us. But if Valerion is going to fall from their cowardly sabotage, they’ll fall with it and be damned by the Emperor’s retribution.” At His name, they stiffened up as she expected. Everyone was intent on her. “But it won’t be worth a damn if all of us and these people go down with them. We retreat the city and the damned planet if it means doing our duty to the Emperor and sticking it to these loonies. Get the civilians on board the train as quickly as you can and fight only when necessary. The reactor will finish the job.” And with that, they moved forward with a new air of confidence. An aura of grim determination even came over the young apprentices of the engineers, who hefted their cheap, printed hand guns with intent. She hoped it would last them through the fight.
The sounds of chaos grew louder. They turned a corner, and then there it was. Where the door to the locomotive bay had been was jagged blast hole from which the battle could be seen through. Figures shot down at the immense, imperial train from the walkways high above it as a motley of Imperium men and women either shot back or ran. There was a split second of awe in the party, then they surged forward. She fluidly switched her plasma shotgun to slug fire as she lifted it and began firing. Her metal legs allowed her to fire and dash better than the others. They had almost made it when the fanatics seemed to finally register the new threat. A Lascannon barked and a hole was torn in their ranks. They barely faltered and kept on their mad dash; the train was their only safety. Two more of the bodies behind her went down by the time they got there. Throwing themselves through a hatch on the Train’s side, her group moaned as they found fleeting safety and stopped. But not her. She flew up a ladder and came to a window that offered a good angle on the lascannon. She yelled frantically as she fired into the cannon, heedless of her plasma shotgun’s rising heat and trusting the ancestors to keep it from exploding.
Earlier, she had woken up not knowing that today would be the end of Valerion. She had been summoned from an ale induced sleep to lead men to quell a “riot” near Valerion’s reactor. The infiltration of the terrorists was too swift for anyone to understand. The few men she could pull up from the barracks were also wasted. Still, with a few grumbled curses and promises of patrol duty in the sewer district if they didn’t get their lazy asses up, she assembled fifteen men from the barracks and led them downwards. Then she lost five in an ambush. Undeterred, she continued deeper, unaware that the reactor had already been blown and she was wasting her time. Along the way, they found an engineering crew and some other hapless civies. Just when they reached the electric district, the order came through on her data pad in dreadfully simple terms: CITY REACTOR IS COMPROMISED. GENERAL RETREAT FROM VALERION ORDERED BY HIGH COMMAND. ALL UNITS REPORT TO LOCOMOTIVE DISTRICT AND BOARD INDOMITABLE SPIRIT. The smattering of shell shocked recruits didn’t object when she turned them around. She had hated the idea of retreat. It reeked of the past, of the failure of her regiment and the decline of her folk. But passing through the gore splattered prefab tunnels sobered her thoughts. There was only death in Valerion.
Her body began to steadily throb with a familiar pain as the sound of distant, muffled gunshots could suddenly be heard. The guns of her squad went up around her, but she held up a hand. Though they towered over her, all of them halted.
“Our first mission is to get the civilians onto the train”, she spoke authoritatively in an accent that sounded strange to them, but it had given her something of a mystic over the years(OOC Danish accent). They nodded mutely. A green recruit broke the silence:
“What can we expect, Lieutenant?”
“Fanatic slayers of men, private”, she answered immediately and confidently, slipping into her leader’s voice. “From what we’ve seen, they deserve no mercy. And they’ll get none from us. But if Valerion is going to fall from their cowardly sabotage, they’ll fall with it and be damned by the Emperor’s retribution.” At His name, they stiffened up as she expected. Everyone was intent on her. “But it won’t be worth a damn if all of us and these people go down with them. We retreat the city and the damned planet if it means doing our duty to the Emperor and sticking it to these loonies. Get the civilians on board the train as quickly as you can and fight only when necessary. The reactor will finish the job.” And with that, they moved forward with a new air of confidence. An aura of grim determination even came over the young apprentices of the engineers, who hefted their cheap, printed hand guns with intent. She hoped it would last them through the fight.
The sounds of chaos grew louder. They turned a corner, and then there it was. Where the door to the locomotive bay had been was jagged blast hole from which the battle could be seen through. Figures shot down at the immense, imperial train from the walkways high above it as a motley of Imperium men and women either shot back or ran. There was a split second of awe in the party, then they surged forward. She fluidly switched her plasma shotgun to slug fire as she lifted it and began firing. Her metal legs allowed her to fire and dash better than the others. They had almost made it when the fanatics seemed to finally register the new threat. A Lascannon barked and a hole was torn in their ranks. They barely faltered and kept on their mad dash; the train was their only safety. Two more of the bodies behind her went down by the time they got there. Throwing themselves through a hatch on the Train’s side, her group moaned as they found fleeting safety and stopped. But not her. She flew up a ladder and came to a window that offered a good angle on the lascannon. She yelled frantically as she fired into the cannon, heedless of her plasma shotgun’s rising heat and trusting the ancestors to keep it from exploding.
