Lt. Amaric Jenkins was a young, lean healthy man in his early twenties. Unlike the others with him who had signed on for glory and honor, he was conscripted but willing to do his part, even if it meant he would die. He was around 5"9 with short forward cropped hair and a clean shaven face. His eyes were a steely blue that stood out under his goggles. His carapace armor may have been thick, bulky and durable, but it was designed to protect against small arms fire, not bolt rifles and volcano cannons. He stood in a firing line with probably a good five thousand men and women. They may not have the genetic enhancements and high-tech weaponry like the Custodian Guard or the Adeptus Astarets, but they possessed the same amount of courage and steel will to win the fight. On his left he was flanked by a beautiful Sargent, she had dirty blond hair and heavily tanned skin. She had eyes that were like brown diamonds and teeth that could blind a man in the dark. She had strong, smooth legs and a slender frame with a pretty good bust to boot. She was squinting through her smoke streaked goggles as they waited for the traitor army units that were to pass through the gates. She had been the replacement for his sisters husband, a man who he had promised to keep safe. His sister held no resentment against him, blaming only Horus and the Gods, but he disagreed. Her name was Kaitlin Lyons, and at only 20 years old she was ready to bring hell down upon the bastards who had burned her own home planet. At first the two of them didn't pay much attention to each other, but when he saved her life from a burning tank that nearly cooked her alive the two of them slowly began to develop not just a friendship, but a sense of camaraderie, knowing that they always had someone to fall back on when the shit hit the fan. A person they could trust to stick by them no what came their way, no matter how much shit the galaxy seemed to throw at them they always kept their chin up and their gun loaded. But over the years Amaric slowly began to feel a bit closer to her, as if he loved her. He figured that even if she did feel the same way about him, he still couldn't embrace it. Being close to someone like that in their line of work could destroy them both. One on the inside and the other on the outside. On his right was one of the jitteriest, most talkative, most friendly people you would ever meet; Pvt. Aris Fletcher. Most people for a first impression figured this life wasn't for someone like him. WRONG. When they had fought against a battalion of rebel soldiers, he hadn't just proved himself, he had distinguished himself.
"Wait for it, wait for it" said a lieutenant colonel as he walked up and down the firing line they had set up.
"Till the day we die huh?" Kaitlin said, breaking the silence.
"Till the day we die" he said as they fist bumped.
"And Aris, remember, fire at anything that isn't imperial" he said.
"Awww, kill joy" he replied jokingly.
The three of them would have laughed but the traitors killed the moment by blasting the door down.
"Fire, fire, open fire!" an officer screamed as gunfire streaked through the air from both sides.
Droves after droves of the traitors were killed, with the occasional loyalist dying. The three of them fired round after round into the mass of pushing bodies. Right now they were struggling to get it, only about four or five of them able to squeeze through the hole they had just blown in the door.
Already Amaric had claimed eight lives with his rifle, slowly strafing it left to right. Kaitlin stood next to him, firing three round bursts into the pushing horde of human bodies. One of them actually got lucky enough to push past the fire and attempted to tackle Aris. The man was holding his chain sword up high just as Fletcher drove his fist into the mans lower abdomen, forcing every shred of air out of his lungs before curb stomping him on the back of the head.
They could already tell this would be a long fire fight.