Reporting from the Front Lines
A Warhammer 40,000 Fan Fiction by Jerrod Fortner
"Darlene could you apply a little more powder to my nose? Oh, and John, where is that combat helmet I asked for? I can't go out there without taking care of this precious head of hair, now can I? Let's hurry people, those cameras roll in ten minutes! For the Emperor's sake, where is my water? Am I the only one who works around here?"
Johannes Volker smiled at himself in the mirror, marveling at his set of pearly white teeth. His hair was combed to perfection, and his makeup girl was applying the last bit of powder to his flawlessly straight nose. He was the pride and joy of broadcasting station delta, their man on the scene. This was his first battle report though, and for all his talk and bossy ways, he was nervous.
"Darlene, once again, a fantastic job."
Darlene, a buxom blonde with aqua blue eyes, smiled and blushed until her faced matched her cherry red lipstick.
"Thanks Mr. Volker. You know, once you finish this report, maybe we could go and grab some caffeine from the Rations tent?" She flashed him a sultry grin and giggled, then turned away, swishing her ample buttocks and leaving Johannes with his mouth ajar.
"Mr. Volker sir, if you're ready, we need to get out to the filming area."
The voice of Dirk the cameraman brought Johannes back to reality, and he stood and cleared his throat before replying, "Of course, let's get going."
As they made their way out, Johannes grabbed his helmet and flak vest before stepping outside. He quickly donned the equipment and made his way to the front lines, where he met with several guardsmen and shook their hands. All of them were fans, and he smiled as he realized the fame he would be getting for all this.
They'll make me an anchor before too long. I'm so sick of doing all this field journalism. Emperor's blood, I'm a damned celebrity!
He cleared his throat as Dirk quickly attached a vox-bead on the collar of his shirt, and then he tested it. Dirk flashed him a thumbs up and said, "Alright, Mr. Volker, we're all set. We're gonna be live in ten nine eight…"
Johannes emptied his mind of everything but the report as Dirk counted down the seconds. He inhaled deeply as Dirk held up three fingers, released at two and inhaled again at one. Then he was live.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Johannes Volker reporting to you live from the front lines of the planet Harikas. Behind me are the mighty warriors and vehicles of the Fifth Harikas Hessians. Already there have been reports of fighting in the outlying regions of the main hive city, Casses Hive. We are currently just outside the city, and you can hear the sound of cannon fire in the distance as the green skinned enemy draws closer."
Johannes ducked down as a Basilisk less than a hundred feet away fired its massive cannon. He saw the crew loading another shell, and he quickly focused his attention back on the camera.
"Apparently the enemy is much closer than anticipated. That sound was a Basilisk mortar tank, a very powerful weapon, one of the true symbols of the Emperor's might."
Las fire from behind Johannes made him turn around and he felt genuine fear.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the green skins are within range of the basic troopers' weapons. This situation is very bad, I can hear the sounds of the enemy's machinery coming, and it is my opinion that I should get out of here before-"
Before Johannes could finish, a Hell Hound rolled up and unleashed a great tongue of flame that illuminated the frontlines. Johannes gasped as he turned around and saw thousands of hulking, bestial monstrosities climbing over concrete dividers and lowering themselves into the trenches. He could hear their animal roars of joy and rage, mixed in with the dying screams of Hessian Guardsmen and the bellowing shouts of Commissars rallying their troops. Johannes felt something warm and wet running down his leg, and for a split second, he thought he had been shot. He looked down to check on himself, but noticed it was merely his own urine, which now puddled around his commandeered combat boots.
He swallowed what little spit he had left and said into the camera, "Reporting from the front lines, this has been Johannes Volker. Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen."
Johannes turned around and began running back to the news tent, Dirk struggling to keep up, weighted down with equipment as he was. Johannes smiled when he saw the tent, and he doubled his efforts to reach it. Fifty feet away from the tent, he tripped and fell headfirst into the ground, turned into mud by the recent rains. He stood and wiped the mud from his eyes, then saw Dirk's hand extended to help him up. He stood and smiled at Dirk. From somewhere in the corner of his mind, he remembered something from his time among the troopers of the Fifth Hessians: always stay down. This dimly registered as he heard a loud crack, and then a bullet slammed into his combat helmet, knocking him lifelessly to the ground.