My walker is SUPERIOR!
"Get off the bloody comms, Ric, or I swear to the God-Emperor, I'll shoot you myself!"
The sound of bullets pattering off the armor of Kaarel's sentinel drowned out the beginning of Ricardo's reply.
… got carried away, sir, that's all!
They're deploying heavy weapons, One!
A large explosion rocked Salena as she sprinted across a wide boulevard, a rebel roadblock opening fire with what sounded like a heavy stubber.
So much for heavy armaments, Kaarel thought to himself.
"Just keep marking hostile positions on the auspex and keep calling things in. The first wave of infantry is a few clicks away, stand fast!"
As planes fought for dominance of the skies above, Kaarel wrenched his walker sideways, hunkering down slightly behind a rusting water-tank as the separatists opened fire from all fronts. His stomach lurched as the Sentinel slid across the slick pavement, coming to a stop swiftly and narrowly avoiding falling over entirely.
Gamma One, please respond, over.
Kaarel grimaced, checking his auspex quickly, keying in his mic. The gravelly voice of Sergeant Newell, the Regimental vox-officer, was all too familiar to Kaarel.
Gamma One, go, over.
Please advise on your current situation, One, over.
All walkers are deployed according to plan, sir. Encountered light resistance, incurred no losses. Hostile casualties high, over.
Roger that, One. First infantry units should be near you now- vox code is Alpha-Two Omicron-Five- provide close support, over.
Emperor Protects, command, out.
Another explosion rocked Salena and Kaarel manipulated the cockpit with the whirring of servo-gears to turn towards the supposedly approaching friendlies. Despite himself, Kaarel couldn't help but grin at the vibrant red uniforms and tall (slightly soggy) fur caps of Vostroyan Firstborns.
He lifted the top hatch of the Sentinel, poking his head out cautiously like a hunted grox, checking his surroundings. Almost immediately, a round bounced off of the top of Salena, barely missing him. He looked at the Vostroyans, who were forming up behind some rubble and firing volleys of las-fire, waving his hand wildly.
One guardsman looked up at him, and, catching the attention of his sergeant, looked at Kaarel in incredulity.
Emperor knows, Kaarel thought, This isn't the weirdest thing that's ever happened on the field.
His mind immediately went to a time when he had shared some fresh grox-meat with a group of Savlar Chem-Dogs in a trench, only to realize halfway through the meal that they were, in fact, eating in an enemy trench.
At length, a man who Kaarel assumed was a Lieutenant waved at Kaarel, gesturing towards the mangled remains of a vox-caster, and the wounded operator, behind him. Groaning in annoyance, Kaarel popped back down into Salena, lowering the legs so that the cockpit was closer to the ground. Grabbing his Las-Carbine and his helmet, he kicked open the side door, and, already dreading the downpour of both rain and heavy ordnance, sprinted across the street, praying to something that he wouldn't be hit.
At the last moment as he could clearly see the Vostroyans, a rebel heavy bolter opened up, blowing large chunks of pavement to bits behind him as he dove into an open doorway, knocking over a reloading guardsman.
The Vostroyan slammed him against the wall, cursing loudly, until the Lieutenant stopped in, stopping the man.
"Prekaritat!"
The Vostroyan grumbled in annoyance, sprinting to another window and opening up. Kaarel saluted tiredly, regarding the Vostroyan. He was a younger man, looking to be around his later twenties. His moustache was lighter in color, and was sagging from the freezing rain that was a near-constant presence on Highgate.
"Well met, letchek. What do you need?"
"Sir, I'm Sergeant Deroin of the Cadian 413th. I've just been informed that I'm to provide close support for you and your men!"
A smaller explosion, seemingly a mortar, exploded nearby, showering them with dirt and stone. Outside, near a burnt out groundcar, a team of Vostroyans manning a Heavy Stubber opened up, the staccato, deafening sound forcing Kaarel to wince in annoyance.
"What was that, sir?"
"I said, what weapons do you have on there?!"
"A Mark II Agrippina Autocannon, Sir! Capable of taking out anything short of a Leman Russ at around 3,000 meters!"
"Very good. Why don't you get that thing behind our lines here and I'll give you better instructions."
Kaarel glanced back at the street where a stream of multi-laser bolts seared through the pavement as it were nothing but a stack of fresh parchment. Grimacing, Kaarel looked at the Lieutenant.
"Sorry, sir, is there any chance I could get some covering fire?"
The Lieutenant smiled, then began bellowing orders.
After screaming instructions to his platoon, he nodded at Kaarel, holding up three fingers. Kaarel took a deep breath, psyching himself up and hoping to the Emperor that he wouldn't be stitched apart by bullets in a few moments.
"Tri...dva...odin!"
Grunting in primal fear, he sprinted across, almost tripping over an exposed promethium pipe as bullets cracked past his ear. He let out an admittedly feminine scream as sprinted towards Salena, and didn't stop until he slammed, hard, into the poster-covered wall.
He sat down on the wet sidewalk, panting heavily, and lifted his hand to thank the Vostroyans for their covering fusillade of las- and bolter fire.
I'd like to say that that was the last time I'd ever do that, he reflected, But odds are, it's not.
He grinned ferociously, inhaling the clear, slightly sulfur-tinted air, and climbed back into the cockpit.
This was what he lived for.
By the time the Vostroyans he was supporting got their vox in working order, the battle had been mostly finished. The intel that he and the other Sentinels had provided was instrumental in coordinating the overall assault.
Of course, Good Old Uncle Constans being who he was, the tactic of 'throwing guardsmen at the enemy until the enemy is all dead' was utilized heavily, and almost all of the regiments took heavy casualties.
As Kaarel dismounted the Sentinel carefully, his muscles aching from the battle, he smiled warmly at Luc Wanner, the head mechanic for Gamma Squadron.
"Looks like you got a bit cavalier with my Sentinel, Sergeant Deroin," he said, smirking.
Kaarel winced.
"Sorry Luc. Frakking rebels had a Salamander Recon Tank with a heavy bolter. They put a few dents in her, but I blew their piece-of-shit tank to bits."
"That's no excuse for a hotshot pilot like you, now is it?" he said, smiling.
Kaarel chuckled, lighting a lho-stick and slapping Luc on the shoulder pauldron, walking back towards the barracks section.
As he walked, enjoying the constant pitter-patter of the rain on his helmet, he took in the bustling camp. There never was quite anything like an Imperial Guard frontline camp, and it was always interesting to take in.
Other than the ring of trenches around the massive camp, this one in particular featured tall, ferrocrete walls with automated sentry turrets and parapets for soldiers to patrol. Every forty meters or so, tall bastions with anti-aircraft positions and teeming with weapon slits broke the monotonous gray wall.
As always, the fortifications were being manned by Death Korps. The corpse-men always liked their trenches and walls, for a reason that always escaped Kaarel.
He glanced at the array of tanks that stood silently to the right of him, smiling at the groups of guardsmen playing cards and smoking as mechanics and Tech-priests made repairs. Several muscle-bound Catachans chanted like cavemen as two of their crewmembers arm-wrestled across the turret of a Leman Russ Vanquisher.
Kaarel grinned to himself as he imagined the hulking Catachans trying to operate in a tank's cramped interior.
He ducked beneath a whirring Sentinel power-lifter just in time to walk straight into Commissar Carina Dreetzman, to his displeasure.
"Ahh, Sergeant Deroin. Fancy seeing you here."
Kaarel snapped into a stiff, parade-ground salute, letting the lho-stick fall from his now-cold lips.
"At ease, Sergeant."
Kaarel eased only slightly, his senses now wary of everything. Dreetzman, who had arrived during the regiment's last campaign on Zenia 33, had quickly earned a reputation as a no-nonsense, strict disciplinarian.
Initially, many of the men in the regiment- especially the footsloggers, as usual, had lusted after the Commissar, joking that her quest for order and discipline could be bought back in the Kasyrs for a few hundred credits. Her first execution of a mean-hearted but popular sergeant had put such rumors to rest, replacing sexual desire with pure hatred.
Kaarel himself never really had any problem with the Commissar himself. If anything, he respected her strength-of-will, but Commissars usually had a habit of disliking Sentinel pilots due to the nature of Sentinel operations- individual, isolated, and, usually, autonomous.
"Can I be of any service, ma'am?" Kaarel asked nervously.
The Commissar regarded him intensely, her hand straying by her inlaid-gold bolt pistol.
"Not yet, Sergeant. I merely wanted to commend you. A Lieutenant Vukan of the Vostroyan 311th conveyed to the Colonel that a Sergeant Kaarel Deroin helped his platoon greatly in the taking of the city. Word is that you've been put in for an Imperial Cross."
Kaarel smirked indiscernably.
"I'm flattered, Commissar, but I've never been one for medals. I'll have to convey my appreciation to Lieutenant Vukan."
She nodded, almost disappointed that he didn't try to defy her or anything.
"See that you do, Sergeant. Carry on."
Saluting again, Kaarel waited until the fair-haired Commissar left his field of vision, then walked towards the 413th's section of tents, letting out a long breath of relief.
As he ducked into the camo-green tent, relieved to be out of the freezing rain, he chuckled to himself, lighting another lho-stick and smiling at the others.
"What took you so long, Sarge?" Ric asked, looking up from his copy of the Primer.
"Frakking Commissar Dreetzman cornered me, tried to get me to slip up."
There was a scattering of laughs around the tent.
Nicolaus Einhardt, a pilot with Delta Squad, who shared Gamma's barracks-tent, sat up in his cot, setting a data-slate by his side.
"Ah, the enchanting Commissar Dreetzman. Emperor knows that i'd like to…"
"For frak's sake, Einhardt, stow it. No one needs to hear how much of a pervert you are," Anna said, smirking.
"Oh, shut up, Renzen. You're just upset that no one in fifty light years around would want to bed you."
The tent went dead silent, and Kaarel frowned, standing up and glaring at Einhardt. The Delta pilot noticed and stood, cracking his neck.
"You have a problem with that, Sarge? You want to stick up for your Gamma comrades, or are you too much of a coward to do anything about it?"
Simon Gustavus, the other present member of Delta, got up, walking towards Einhardt.
"Nicolaus, don't be a frakking idiot- just apologize and walk away."
"Shut the hell up, Simon. You have no part in this."
The pilot, cowed, stood back as the two men squared off.
Kaarel positioned himself in front of Einhardt, glaring at the cocky, arrogant man in pure disdain.
"Just walk away, Einhardt. You don't want this."
"Oh, what? You're going to pull rank on me and get Dreetzman in on this? Don't make me laugh, coward."
"If I'm a coward, Einhardt, you're something much worse."
The bald, badly scarred man laughed raucously.
"You know, I heard about you when you were in the Whiteshields. I'll bet your family didn't even take up arms when the Enemy landed on the homeworld. I'll bet they ran away like the cowards they are."
Kaarel punched him square in the jaw, kicking off the fight. He ducked beneath Einhardt's clumsy blow, punching the man in the midriff with his other free fist, sending the other man staggering backwards. Roaring in anger, Einhardt bull-rushed him, catching Kaarel in the stomach with his surprisingly hard head, taking the fight to the rough wooden floor.
Lifting his arms, Kaarel blocked a flurry of punches with his forearms, kneeing the other soldier in the stomach, hard.
Gaining the upper hand, Kaarel flipped him over, and, in a smooth, fluid motion, locked his legs around the other man's neck, choking him slowly
The man tried, futilely, to resist, but after several agonizing seconds, he slackened, weakening from a lack of oxygen.
By the time that had happened, he was already being pulled off of the other man by his squadmates and being roughly pushed outside.
"Thanks, Anna. I was afraid I was going to kill him."
The cold, clipped tone of Commissar Dreetzman's voice made Kaarel's blood run cold.
"I'm impressed by your sense of honor, Sergeant Deroin, but I'm afraid that won't exactly save you in military court."
The last thing he saw before he fell unconcious from a savage blow to his head was the unmistakeable boots of the regimental Commissariat Officers, covered in the polluted, gray mud of Highgate.
The engines of the two jetbikes hummed softly in the background as the two slender figures conversed, isolated in the small, already-secure courtyard far from human eyes.
"The readings are… unmistakable."
"You are sure?"
"There's no doubt. The followers of Yngir are close. When they will arrive, I cannot say, only that it is soon."
"You have done well, Iseris. Now, we must allow the mon-keigh will play their part."
"If I may be so bold, Farseer, but why them? They are blunt and reckless. Hardly a weapon to wield against the Kaelis-Ra?"
The Farseer, one who had seen much more conflict and death at the hands of the humans than most of her kind, smiled slightly, putting her slender, tapered helm on once more. Her mind, as it often did as of late, went back to the hellish red wastelands of Essel-Ir-Talith, known to the humans as Kaurava III, where her brave soldiers had been cut down by the hapless mon-keigh Guardsmen.
As the treads of their cursed tanks had ground her valiant comrades into the dust, they had blundered blindly into the horror that lay hidden beneath the surface.
She pushed the torment from her mind. It did her no good.
"I detest the mon-keigh, Ranger, but I detest the Yngir much, much more. Blunt they may be, but they will occupy our enemy long enough for us to strike the fatal blow."
Hey all,
So, So sorry about the long delay. A combination of Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month in November), final exams, and pure, unadulterated laziness prevented me from writing at all for the last while. Also sorry that this one was so short- I do have another in the works that should go up relatively soon.
Also, sorry for the typical Guard drama- I just couldn't help it :)
Feel free to leave constructive criticism and/or comments in the review section!
-IGdude117