Live fire exercise.
Live body exercise.
Krieg as not a world easily assaulted. This didn't stop heretics from trying. One particular band of traitors had attacked Krieg not a month before. They had been soundly defeated, but they still persisted on the surface. Outsiders might say it was because they were deceptive, persistent. Fools might say the Korps couldn't catch them. All lies.
They lived because Krieg allowed them to.
Training was no substitute for the real thing.
He was standing on the blasted area of what used to be an habitation block. Krieg had been all but destroyed all those years ago, yet some relics of a bygone era had remained.
Krieg had found a way to survive.
He heard a noise, like that of a person trying to be stealthy, but not doing a very good job. He turned, very slowly, his eyes seeing everything, his ears reacting to even the smallest noise. Thats when he saw him, coming from around a corner, all attempts at subtlety gone.
He was bare chested, his lower body covered in rags. A twisted mask with bright blue lights covered his face and as he charged he raised a twisted rusted axe like weapon, screaming "BLOOD FOR THE BLOO-"
TZZZZHHK!
The mask was blasted to pieces and the heretics crumpled to the ground, seared flesh and exposed, burned bone welded to metal his reward. The Krieger lowered his lasgun., staring for a moment at the twitching body. Is this what the Ruinous Powers did? Making you cut yourself, mutilate your body, shout blasphemous sayings and run, half nude, running into a radioactive wasteland? How did they even survive on the surface? The masks they wore might help, but...it must be part of their Heresy.
He could not understand. Was it because he was Womb-Born Was it something only Naturals understood?
Was that the reason for her actions?
Her father had been the replacement for the former Lord General. It was a temporary situation, held only until the former Lord was finished purging the Seswenna system that was so close to Krieg, and so vital to the sector. It had been a year now and it was rumored that the new Lord General would perhaps become permanent. It was uncomfortable, outsiders ruling Krieg. But they would adapt.
The thought that she was corrupted was not a pleasing one. It had to be something else.
But what?
What could it possi-
"Raggghh!"
He turned at the last moment to be knocked to the ground by a hand as big as his face-mask. Another of the heretics, this one bigger, far more powerful, covered in scars and blood...and backed up by five more.
It was a shame really.
The big heretic tried swiping at him. If it had connected it would have carved open his midsection. But it did not connect, meeting only air as he leaped back, firing three shots right into the heretic face. The heretic let loose a horrid scream before falling to the ground. His allies did not pause, letting out a war cry and charging toward the Krieger. He turned and ran, putting just enough distance between them before turning yet again, falling to the ground and aiming. Two shots put one down, one shot, more precise, put another down. The last three, far warier now, began to surround him. Slobber dripped from their mouths as their bodies shook, mouths turned either to sneers or muttering maledictions to their "gods'.
At the end of his lasgun was a bayonet. He wondered idly if he would have to use it.
TZZZK! TZZZZZK! TZZZZZZK!
All bodies dropped to the ground as lasbolts came from nowhere. They died slowly, twitching and desperately trying to crawl away.
Confused, the Krieger searched for his benefactor.
It was her.
She came toward him, clad as he was, carrying a similar lasgun. "I'm sorry, did I still your kills?" Her voice was distorted by the face-mask.
He didn't answer, instead, he stared at her for a very, very, very long time. She stood before him, her head cocked in that peculiar way.
Finally, he moved to one of the moaning heretics and plunged his bayonet through his skull.
"I know you can speak. Surely you have something to say?"
He moved to the next one, placing his boot on the man's chest before removing his throat with the bayonet.
"The strong, silent type. Usually I like that, but it seems that's the only kind of male on this planet. Don't you Kriegers ever smile? Or laugh? Or...I don't know...show emotion?"
He moved to the last one, firing a shot that burned away the mans skull, before looking quizzically at her. Then he raised his lasgun at her and fired.