Chapter XVII:
The Meat Grinder
Rüstkammer Base, Wolfsland, Federal Republic of Giad, April 25th SY 2149
Captain Parris readjusted the collar of his uniform as he left the barracks, meeting the Kasrkins of his command squad as well as members of Centaur, Manticore and Spartan squads. His violet eyes glanced at the perfectly aligned formations of Cadians; they were ready for their new assignment.
Standing in front of them at attention were the 400 Vargus volunteers for the newly founded 1st Grenadiers Regiment. The Vargus were the former warrior-class tribals found mostly in the old Giadian Empire and were often levied as mercenaries ever since. Described by the local Giadians as "savage killers" and "beastmen", these auxiliary warriors were outcasts of the Federacy; they weren't granted citizenship and couldn't be enrolled as officers in the military or hold a job in the government. Which was a shame in his mind.
Indeed, the Vargus, heavily steeped in their warrior culture, made the perfect soldiers; strong, aggressive, ruthless and more importantly, a desire to die a glorious death. If it wasn't for their insubordinate and reckless attitude, they would've been an integral part of the Astra Militarum. They reminded him of the Catachan Jungle Fighters; fearsome, rowdy, rebellious but by the Throne were they excellent at their job.
A few days ago, General Farestein has approved the Federacy's proposal of creating an elite corps of soldiers for the PDF, trained to Astra Militarum standards. The objective was to create an unorthodox and light infantry unit that could be rapidly deployed alongside Imperial Guard units or behind enemy lines to conduct deep reconnaissance missions.
And thus, the Kasrkins of First Company were tasked with training the Vargus to their high standards. To be trained as proper Grenadiers of the Imperial Guard.
"Battalion! At ease!" Parris bellowed from across the parade square. A satisfying stomp of combat boots echoed in reply.
"I am Captain Parris and I'll be your commanding officer for the next eight weeks of this training. General Farestein has granted you lot the opportunity to be part of the elite shock unit, to become Grenadiers. To be a Grenadier is to give up your lives and dedicate your heart and soul to the Imperium. To become a bulwark against the heretics, the mutants and the xenos. It is to become the hammer and shield of the Emperor and to crush His enemies with extreme prejudice. It is to die standing and hold the line with the corpses of your foes under your bloody feet." He paused momentarily, letting the words weigh in their minds.
"But before you can become one of the Emperor's loyal soldier, you must earn the title of Grenadier. The next eight weeks will be Hel for all of you. From this moment now, your ranks are meaningless. Your names, non-existent. Your lives, worthless. You are the numbers that is etched on your shirts and the words that will come out of your filthy sewers are "Yes sir". Is that clear?"
"Yes sir!" The Vargus roared in unison.
"Good. Then I'll be leaving you all to the mercy of my Kasrkins. They will be your first contacts and are tasked with breaking you down and building you up to be worthy enough for the Emperor. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!"
"We shall bloody see." He rigidly turned to his Cadians and gave a curt salute, "Gentlemen, break them." He ordered simply.
The Kasrkins sprung to their feet, each one barking out orders as they shepherded the recruits out of the parade square and lead them for a 20-kilometre run with their combat rucksacks. Lieutenants and Sergeants took the lead and rear of the formations while the lower ranked Kasrkins flanked from the sides, making sure that no recruit fell.
Katra was running alongside a tight group of tall Vargus recruits. There were men and women, each and every one of them were a tall mass of muscles. They were not unfamiliar with physical training or combat; they were all veterans. The Vargus recruits have already been forged by the fires of war, they have fought the Legion for several years… and demanded more by applying to the Grenadier battalion.
She spotted one Vargus, a tall man with iron-coloured hair and eyes, grinning as they jogged across the Giadian plains.
"Something funny, recruit 76?" She asked rhetorically as she caught up to his right side.
"No, sir!" He replied though his grin didn't vanish.
"Then why are you grinning, recruit?"
"We're enjoying this, sir!" He replied frankly, "We love a hard and rigorous training, sir! We're happy to finally step up above the rest and kick some ass, sir!" His enthusiasm was shared with the other recruits, a devilish smile etched on their faces.
Truth be told, they were eager to prove their worth once more and to be back into the thick of battle, this time with better gear and deep into enemy territory. Katra couldn't help but grin back; they were already warriors, and she feels that all of them would make fine Grenadiers.
First Ward, Northern Front, Republic of San Magnolia
Suffocating billows of black smoke scattered across the abandoned city while raging fires ravaged through the streets and buildings. San Magnolians and Eighty-Six Processors desperately held the Northern Front. The Legion has launched a surprise attack with overwhelming force, rolling through the layered defensive fortifications and clawing its way dangerously close to the Republic's second largest city and primary industrial zone: Charité.
The heavy howitzers from the Gran Mur roared mightily, smashing through the unending wave of Legion while Cadians of the 605th Regiment hastily launched a counter-offensive. San Magnolian infantry companies either lost morale and fled or were completely obliterated. A few tank squadrons remained but it was up to the Eighty-Six squadrons of the Northern Front to hold the line.
Sledgehammer Squadron was tasked with defending one of the three main bridges that linked one half of the city to the Gran Mur and eventually Charité. A few brave Albas set up improvised barricades and fire positions. Anti-tank teams got on the available high grounds and anxiously waited for the enemy.
The Juggernauts of Sledgehammer Squadron laid low on the roofs and in spider holes to spring their ambush, letting a platoon of Mastiff tanks be exposed as bait. Frantic and panicked reports rushed through the Para-Raid as Black Bird left his Resonance open. He grimaced and held tightly onto his control sticks. The yammering and yelling of San Magnolian troops annoyed and distracted him from hearing the voices of the Damned. He clicked his tongue; he mulled over if he should just cut his comms and use his eyes instead to detect the enemy's whereabouts.
He perked up at the cockpit's LCD screens as formations of Thunderbolts and Vendettas soared just over them, engaging the enemy ground troops with tempered fury and steely resolve. Good thing that they had competent air support, he thought bitterly, for he had already lost faith in the Albas to actually stand their ground when shit hits the fan.
"Contact." Antylope reported stoically through the Resonance, "About a battalion size. Mostly Ameise and Grauwolf. About two dozen Löwe in their ranks."
"Black Bird," The emotionless voice of their Handler echoed through the Para-Raid, "Hold the bridge at all costs. Death Korps reinforcements are on their way. ETA unknown."
"Copy that, Handler-7." Black Bird responded coldly.
The Mastiffs opened with their first salvo, smashing through the ranks of Ameise and Grauwolf as they funnelled through the narrow street to the bridge. The Legion swiftly replied in kind, the Löwe's barrage decimated the Republic tanks before they could even relocate. The anti-tank teams fired from their vantage points, successfully eliminating five enemy tanks. Grauwolves climbed up the buildings and vaulted on the rooftops, their high-frequency blades cut through the Alba ranks, massacring the fleeing men and leaving behind a path of entrails and eviscerated corpses.
"They are getting torn to shreds out there, Black Bird," His second-in-command notified, a hint of mortification could be heard in his voice.
"To all platoons, wait until they get into our kill zone." Black Bird ordered stoically, trying to ignore the cries of pleas and agony of the slaughtered San Magnolians.
Some soldiers have started to flee once the last surviving tanks were obliterated, running across the bridge for safety. Few were shot down by their commanding officers as they desperately tried to maintain their resolves. A platoon of infantrymen held their ground, made up mostly of hardened veterans. They took cover behind makeshift sandbag walls and barricades and let loose a barrage of bullets and anti-tank shells.
The Legion have entered their kill zone, Black Bird waited patiently until their Löwes were also in. As soon as the last enemy tank passed his Juggernaut, he sprung the ambush. Almost immediately and taking the enemy by surprise, Sledgehammer squadron opened fire from their concealed positions within the ruins and roofs. The first salvo was devastating, all Löwes were destroyed and most of the Scout-types fled, skittering away to a better position.
"The enemy is fleeing, send out skirmishers to hunt them down!" Handler-7 commanded eagerly.
"Handler-7, I strongly advise against that order, we have zero intel on what's waiting for us." Black Bird said.
"Black Bird, we need to seize the initiative and turn this disaster around! Antylope, deploy your platoon and hunt those Ameise down!"
Black Bird clicked his tongue, their Handler is getting ahead of himself and is going to cause more harm than good.
"Antylope, stay put. I'll go with Red Sparrow and Sleipnir." He instructed firmly, "To all platoons, spread and relocate. Enemy artillery might've already zeroed our current positions."
"Roger!" They complied unanimously, ignoring their Handler's incessant shouting.
"Hey! I'm your commanding officer! Obey my-"
Black Bird cut the Resonance with Handler-7, "Incompetent prick. Alright, let's move out."
Sergeant Voss ducked behind cover as bullets viciously whizzed over his head. His platoon commander laid dying a few feet away behind him, gasping hoarsely for air and writhing erratically, the gunshot wound in his throat was clogged with streams of blood. Another soldier fell, clutching his exploded shoulder and yelling in pain, the heavy machine gun went silent.
"Someone get on that HMG right fucking now!" Voss hollered harshly. He spotted a young soldier covering his ears in a curled position and rocking back and forth. He grabbed the man and forcefully shove him against the sandbag wall, "Fire your weapon, private!"
The heavy machine gun roared again, spewing out armour-piercing rounds into the sea of Legion machines. The platoon was barely at half strength, most of the command structure was either dead or bleeding out, leaving Voss as the only commander in this narrow street. They only had two heavy machine guns and a functioning mortar to keep the enemy at bay but on the very verge of a total rout.
He stood back up and shouldered his rifle, laying down accurate shots and eliminating a few Ameise by himself.
"Hold your ground! In the name of the Immortal Emperor, we die standing!"
"Hoorah!" Some of the braver soldiers cried in reply.
"Incoming mines!" The platoon's medic shouted in panic.
Self-propelled mines launched themselves into the hailstorm of bullets, dropping like flies but continued with their suicidal charge, closing rapidly with the San Magnolians. Voss rapidly switched to his sidearm as he ran out of magazines for his battle rifle. He nervously glanced to his sides, he could see the panic and worry in their eyes. His throat was dry, his resolve shaken. He tried to put up a brave face and keep his men in the fight, but he was too much of a coward in this moment. What was the point anyways? To give the artillery a second or two? Was it worth it?
Before he could muster any courage, the mobile mines have reached the sandbag wall and vaulted the barricades, trampling the shocked San Magnolians.
"Mommamommamomma…" The drones echoed hauntingly.
The line collapsed. Most of the Republic's infantry companies fled towards the bridges, much to the dismay of their commanding officers. Only a few Juggernaut squadrons and pockets of Alba infantry squads held their ground.
The Legion relentlessly poured through the ruined city, even a handful of Dinosaurias started to emerge from their territory. Imperial Navy flyers were decimated and forced to retreat, overwhelmed by the incoming fire from the ground forces.
Black Bird gritted his teeth as Sleipnir fell in combat. The young woman took a tank shell through the cockpit, instantly vaporizing herself and her Juggernaut. He saw the massive heavy tanks in the distance. The gigantic walkers simply walked through the buildings, levelling everything in their path.
"Black Bird! Fall back! The battle is lost!" Handler-7 urged him distraughtly.
"We can't, Handler-7!" He protested passionately, "If we fall back now, the whole line collapses."
"The line has collapse, Black Bird!"
"What?"
"The right wing is in shambles and the left wing have retreated past the bridge. You and your squadron are the only forward unit at this point. You are going to be encircled!"
Black Bird couldn't believe his ears. They can't let the Legion go further towards Charité. They mustn't. Located between this ruin and Charité is one of the Republic's internment camps, filled with over two thousand Eighty-Six, most are barely over fifteen years old. Thousands of children that have just begun Juggernaut training and were basically the last line of defence for the Gran Mur.
"Black Bird! Regroup with the rest of the squadron and fall back!" His commanding officer ordered sternly.
"Antylope, how are you holding up at the bridge?" He asked suddenly, pulling away his Juggernaut with Red Sparrow tailing just beside him.
"Pretty rough but we can hold long enough. What's your plan?"
"We're going to deny the enemy our bridge. I'm going to set charges around the middle part and blow it sky high." He informed coldly.
"What? Are you fucking nuts?!" Red Sparrow asked incredulously.
"Do you have a better plan?" He challenged firmly. He was met with conceded silence.
"Damn it, Black Bird! If you are disobeying my order, I'll have you shot for treason and insubordination!"
"Sure thing. Meet me in the battlefield if you ever have the guts to execute me." Black Bird shot back before he cut himself off the Resonance a second time, "He's really starting to get on my nerves…"
Taking the high ground, he and Red Sparrow raced back towards the centre bridge, Skorpions and Dinosaurias opened fire in their general direction, trying to zero in on the nimble and small Juggernauts. Buildings exploded violently, crashing down and blasting thick clouds of dust and smoke. Black Bird narrowly dodges a direct hit from Löwe's tank shell. He travelled through the raging battlefield; he noticed that the Legion has already begun their harvest. The Ameises didn't waste any time to collect the brains of dead San Magnolians and recovering smoking husks of fallen drones. Not even the barely wounded were spared. He took a quick glance at a legless soldier being dragged away. The bloodied Alba screamed for help, trying to crawl away, before he was silenced by a Jaëger's blade.
"Black Bird!" Antylope's worried yelling spurred him back to reality, "We're getting pinned down over here! Would be nice if the artillery was actually accurate!"
"Roger that, we're forty seconds out." He answered hastily, "Wild Coyote and Magpie, cross the bridge and try to contact the garrison unit and coordinate with them. Red Sparrow, get whatever Scavengers we have left and regroup them at the bridge."
He gasped suddenly and abruptly veered his Juggernaut to the side, missing the Grauwolf's high-frequency blades by a hair's breadth. The Juggernaut jolted and skidded across the rooftop and falling into the street below with a resounding crash.
"Black Bird!"
The Processor groaned; his head throbbed painfully. He could feel a warm liquid streaming down the right side of his face. He also felt discomfort on his left ribcage, probably broke a few ribs in the crash. Despite the damages, he was surprised to still be alive. So much for the aluminium coffin. The Juggernaut whined and groaned loudly as it tries to stand back up but to no avail.
Black Bird could see through the LCD screens the incoming wave of Ameise and Grauwolf drones making their way towards him. He defiantly discharged a single 57mm high explosive shell into the enemy ranks, destroying two Grauwolves. He emptied his secondary machine guns, scything down their ranks, but nothing stopped their ranks. He quickly grabbed his sidearm and pulled on the slide, chambering a round.
"Come on, you bastards. I'm waiting for you." He growled viciously.
As an Ameise closed the gap, it halted in its tracks and tilted to the side, as if something else caught its attention. Amid explosions and fierce firefights, the sounds of hooves beating against concrete could be heard.
Galloping at incredible speeds, the Death Riders of Krieg burst through the wreckages and ruins of the city and crashed with the hatred foe in an instant. Pure violent fury was unleashed as they thundered into the abominable machines; their explosive tipped lances blowing the Ameises to bits. The fearless frenzied horses trampled Jaëgers beneath their hooves. The riders effortlessly fired las-rounds with the grace of a true marksman. Sabres cleaved through Grauwolves. Melta charges shattered Löwes' legs.
While the cavalry pummelled the enemy line, long columns of Leman Russ tanks rolled through the streets, annihilating everything in their paths. In a few minutes the tide has turned, and the moment was won.
Two hours later, the Death Korps of Krieg and Cadian reinforcements managed to counter and forced the Legion to retreat. Fresh San Magnolian troops poured into the ravaged war-torn city while deserters and coward officers were gathered and summarily executed, their cold corpses unceremoniously thrown into the river. Black Bird regrouped with the rest of his squadron, waiting tiredly for the Scavengers to recover his Juggernaut.
Soot and grime covered the faces and battered uniforms of the Processors. Although they've only suffered two KIAs in their squadron, the battle's intensity took most of their energy.
The Eighty-Six pilots looked up when they heard hooves trotting by them. The fearless Death Riders have just returned from a scouting mission. Their once shiny cuirasses were covered with ash, blood and cuts. Some of the mutated horses limped, evident by the streams of blood that poured out of deep gashes or gaping gunshot wounds.
One of the Krieg cavalrymen halted and lifelessly stared down at the two dozen or so teenagers in front of him.
"Who's in command here?" A cold muffled voice asked.
Black Bird quietly stood up and stared back at the Korpsman, "Lieutenant Juzo Nakano, Sledgehammer squadron…"
The Guardsman gave the young man a respectful salute, "Ridemaster KT-94216-P, 15th Company." He introduced himself cordially, "Who is your commanding officer?"
"Uh… we don't know," Black Bird answered frankly, "We just know him by Handler-7."
"Acknowledged. It is this Ridemaster's duty to inform you, lieutenant, that your commanding officer will be reported to the Commissars for cowardice and will be executed. In the meantime, your squadron will be placed under direct command of the Death Korps. Do you comply?"
A bit taken out of hand, Nakano scratched his head and opted to play safely, "Uh, yes, sir."
The ridemaster seemed satisfied with his answer, "Marshal Arnem would like to brief you on your next mission."
Palace Blancneige, Liberté et Égalité
Commissar Darius's frown deepened when the apprehended Alba officers were brought out to the palace's inner courtyard and lined up. Facing the San Magnolians was a firing squad of Guardsmen, standing rigidly at attention with their lasguns presented. He took three steps forwards and faced the crowd of Alba soldiers gathered around the courtyard.
"These officers were found guilty of sedition, cowardice, desertion and incompetence. Let it be known that the Astra Militarum will deliver swift judgement upon the traitors and heretics that dared to defile and spit at the Imperium!" Darius hollered strictly.
"To those who have been found lacking in faith and duty, your sentence is worst than death for you do not deserve the luxury and privilege of mercy! No! Your cold corpses will serve the Imperium as Servitors, and your families imprisoned for labour work!"
Some of the sentenced officers started to cry or pray erratically, others dropped on their knees and pitifully begged to the Guardsmen.
"Shoulder arm!" Darius shouted as he raised his right hand out. The firing squad executed his command rigidly, shouldering their lasguns.
"Aim!"
"Please! Have mercy!"
"This is bullshit! This isn't justice!"
"This is a mistake! I've only done my duty!"
"FIRE!"
The distinct crack of lasguns echoed ominously in the courtyard. The Cadian shock troopers didn't miss their targets, aiming for centre mass. Geysers of blood shot out of the sentenced Alba officers. One man ducked, the top half of his skull flashed into a pink mist and brain matter. Blood splashed at the foot of the marble statue of San Magnolia, the patron saint of the Republic. The bodies slumped in their pools of blood, their gaping and cauterized wounds sizzling and smoking.
Medics and Tech-priests walked towards the corpses and checked for vitals. They were then carried unceremoniously on a handcart to undergo the gruesome transformation to become the mindless and decaying Servitors.
Lena watched the execution with dread and uneasiness. Although she didn't sympathize with those officers, she still felt that the Imperial Guard's sanctions were ruthless and inhumane. She took in a deep breath and continued her way to Henrietta's office, trying to ignore the haunting expression on those men's faces.
They deserve it - she tried to reason with herself – it is a necessary sacrifice.
First Ward, Northern Front, Republic of San Magnolia
Nakano arrived in the command bunker with raspy breaths. The other officers and squadron leaders were already present and gathered around a large wooden table, with Death Marshal Arnem hunching over the tactical map. The Krieg officer perked up slowly, the soulless black lenses of his gas mask pierced menacingly through Nakano's soul, sending a cold shiver down his spine. Despite knowing that there is a man behind the protective apparatus, he felt like he was facing a creature of darkness and death.
"You're five minutes late, lieutenant Nakano." Arnem stated, his tone levelled but filled with tempered anger.
"Forgive me, I lost my way out of the aid station…" Nakano explained hastily, "… it won't happen again, sir." He said after a few agonizing seconds of silence.
"Good," Arnem nodded quietly.
The Death Marshal straightened his back, easily towering over the other officers in the spartan and narrow bunker. Even the Krieg Commissar stood two heads beneath him, and he was wearing the peaked cap.
"As you may have seen, the Legion has found a weak link in our defences. They are growing more aggressive and bolder every day, exploiting any weaknesses in our lines. We cannot allow ourselves to give up more ground. This country's primary and only manufactorum zone is threatened. If this city falls, then Charité falls. Meaning that we lose our tanks, our ammunitions, our food."
He turned to Nakano before continuing, "Thanks to your quick thinking and strong resolve, you've managed to stall the enemy long enough for us to arrive. However, the damages have already been done. The enemy are at our gates, and it is only a matter of time before they breach the Gran Mur and invade Charité."
"Do we have any estimates when the Legion will launch their large-scale offensive?" An Alba colonel asked curiously.
"The Adeptus Mechanicus have calculated that the enemy might launch their offensive sooner than anticipated. It is a matter of weeks or in the following month or two." Arnem answered coldly.
"Haven't we managed to locate any of their mobile factories?" Captain Christensen of Steel Halberd squadron asked, "We could at least hit those and stall their production rates."
"Negative," The Death Marshel replied, "It seemed that the Legion has entrenched their factories deep in their territory. That also means that reinforcements will take longer to arrive, but their production goes on unimpeded."
"Can't the Navy just orbital strike them? I mean they have the firepower to destroy half of the continent, no?" The Alba colonel inquired derisively.
The Krieg Commissar's head snapped in the colonel's direction, "The Navy can't and won't afford to waste precious ammunitions blindly. Their firepower should've been use in another world, where there is strategic value... unlike your world."
"What did you say, son of a bitch?" The San Magnolian barked angrily. He took a menacing step forward but immediately stopped and paled when the Death Marshal placed himself between him and the Commissar, his laspitol already unholstered.
"If I were you, colonel, I would keep my mouth shut towards a Commissar of the Astra Militarum."
"M-my apologies, Death Marshal and Commissar." The officer bowed.
Christensen crossed his arms with a smug grin, "Prick." He whispered.
Nakano was in disbelief. Despite every mishap and fuck ups the San Magnolians have done, the colonel dared to act arrogantly. The Eighty-Six noticed how the Krieg Korpsmen present in the bunker have shadowed every Alba officer present in the room, ready to strike in case one of them acted out of line.
"We will destroy the right flank bridge, effective immediately," Arnem resumed with the mission briefing, "This will force a third of the Legion force to relocate, giving us some time, maybe a day or two. The centre and left flank bridges will be rigged and ready to be destroyed if the enemy crossed the channel. We must eliminate their superior numbers advantage."
"What about Cadian tanks? Would we receive support from them?" Nakano asked.
The Death Marshal shook his head grimly, "They are repurposed for the counter-offensive and the defence of the capital city. From now on, our orders stand: hold the line and die."
The briefing continued for an hour long as they covered every possible scenario and detail for the upcoming days. It took Nakano another half hour before he would find his squadron again, establishing a makeshift barracks out of one of the least destroyed buildings they could find. Their Juggernauts have been fully restocked and refuelled thanks to their assigned Scavenger units.
Nakano entered the spacious and ransacked dining room that belonged to a restaurant of a bygone era. His squadron mates lounged about as they waited for his return. Four of them were playing a game of poker at a table, gambling with bottle caps they've accumulated over the previous months. Two were chatting lively at the bar stand, glass of water in their hands. His second-in-command, Antylope, lied peacefully on the lounge's couch from the adjacent room. Some took a seat and read quietly while others did whatever they can to kill the time, carving on the walls with their combat knives or pensively staring at old and faded paintings.
"Ah, there's our fearless leader!" Red Sparrow announced to the squadron, gathering everyone's attention, except Antylope, who was sleeping soundly. "So, what's the news? Are we getting relieved? Or a new and competent Handler?"
Nakano shook his head, "No new Handler for us. We're under direct command of the Death Korps. And we can also kiss our relief force goodbye." He said dourly. "For the next couple of days, we'll be fighting, eating and sleeping here until we get relieved."
"By whom?"
"Either another squadron or a Republic tank squadron."
"Great! So, we're basically staying here until our deaths." Magpie concluded ironically.
"The order stands. Be grateful that the Imperials are staying with us and are taking the vanguard. We're assigned as the last defence for the bridge. So, make yourselves comfortable and get some chow." He ordered sombrely, walking back out to the Scavengers to fetch his rucksack and sleeping bag, "And start getting use to this place, it'll be our home for a week or two."
First Ward, the Eastern Front, Republic of San Magnolia, April 28th SY 2149
The devastating impacts from the Earthshaker cannons and Thudd guns rattled his bones through the trench. Pajk and his squad weaved through the contested trench, lost by the San Magnolian infantrymen. Though the main attack force of the Legion has been repelled, there were still pockets of stiff resistance scattered throughout the frontline. Jaëger drones roamed the trenches, hunting down tired Alba soldiers and Krieg Guardsmen alike.
For two hours straight, the Grenadier squad has fought off three separate Jaëger attack, fighting in narrow and muddy galleries, often resulting in brutal and bloody hand-to-hand combat. The squad started with twenty men, they were hacked down to only nine and most were gravely wounded. Grenadier Pajk wasn't spared; he had several lacerating cuts to his legs and arms, a gunshot wound to his right thigh, a throbbing headache and a broken rib or two. His Carapace armour defended well from the Jaëgers' sharp swords, but it didn't protect just as well from blunt force traumas.
Their Watchmaster was in worse shape than the entire squad. He took several gunshot wounds, lacerating cuts, a shrapnel logged in his left shoulder, a broken leg and burns over half of his body. How he was alive, Pajk didn't know. Perhaps it was a mixture of grit, grim resolve and all the morphine and combat stimulants they pumped in his veins after he was knocked out by a mortar shell. The senior Korpsman was visibly pissed off that they kept him alive in his current state.
Sporadic rifle barks and panic-stricken yells echoed at the upcoming right turn in the trench. It was soon followed by high velocity buzzsaw sounds from the Jaëgers' submachine guns. The Grenadiers halted abruptly and knelt down as two San Magnolians ran towards their directions. Fear was written on their mud covered faces as they ran towards the tightly grouped Grenadiers with their backs turned to the incoming kill team of Jaëgers.
The abhorrent bipedal machines were covered from head-to-toe in dried and fresh bloodstains, their optical sensors, that resembled eyes, glowed gleefully at the fresh pack of victims presented before them.
"Open fire!" The Watchmaster shouted angrily.
The Grenadiers let loose a barrage of hot-shot las-bolts into the gallery, indiscriminately scything down Alba and machine. More machines were taking cover in the nearby passageway. A hand grenade was tossed overhead and plummeting towards them. A Grenadier behind Pajk caught the grenade mid-air and kindly returned it to the sender. A satisfying flash of explosion confirmed that the package was delivered.
The leading Korpsmen pushed hard and fast and jumped into the turn, only to find a pile of Alba and Jaëger carcasses, confirming that the gallery was back in Imperial Guard control. They continued to clear the trench, eliminating two or four Legion infantry units along the way until they've reached their primary objective: pillbox L-44-2.
The rockcrete fortification housed two heavy Bolters in its gun ports and has gone silent for quite some time. Latest Vox-comm announced that a platoon of Albas retook the pillbox, but they have also gone silent a few minutes later.
The Grenadier squad reached the fortification's steel door. The heavy slab whined loudly as it was pulled open, two Grenadiers flooded the interior with their flashlights. The air was stiff with fumes and decay, evident by the eviscerated and dismembered corpses of Krieg Guardsmen and San Magnolian soldiers.
The heavy infantrymen poured through the entrance, their hot-shot lasguns as they scanned for any potential threat. They finally reached the main chamber that housed the two heavy weapons.
"Secure them." The Watchmaster ordered.
The others continued to clear out the pillbox. An explosion suddenly rang out, the blast violently shook the rockcrete structure. Smoke and soot rolled into the room; the Grenadiers dazed by the blast. Then gunshots howled.
"Contact!"
The Krieg Guardsmen swiftly recovered and opened fire at the wave of Jaëgers that poured from the other side of pillbox. The agile killing machines dashed and vaulted great distances, rapidly closing the gap and forcing the Grenadiers to fight in melee.
His weapon was kicked out of his hands, and he was pounced to the ground. Pajk crossed his arms and blocked the machine's strike. He pushed the blade away from his face and punched it across the white porcelain head, cracking it. With a tired groan, he used all his might and energy to shove the Legion drone off him and grabbed his trench club, smashing its head. Sparks, wires and shards of circuitry spat out.
Pajk looked around his surroundings, exhaustion and his wounds were slowing him down, his movements sluggish, his reflexes longer. He saw his fellow Korpsmen fighting for their lives, exchanging blows with the deadly Legion drones. Were it not for their carapace armour, they would've all perished in seconds.
The Watchmaster swung his chainsword across a Jaëger's midsection, the teeth chewed through the enemy with ease and brutality. He kicked the bottom half away and placed three las-bolts in the back of another Jaëger with his Heavy Laspistol. A third sprung towards him, deftly evading the Watchmaster's chainsword and thrusting its sword into his ribcage. The senior Korpsman groaned in pain. He let got his sidearm and forcefully grabbed the abomination by its neck, trying to squeeze the light and fragile frame with pure hatred and zeal. The Jaëger struck again, stabbing his ribcage savagely, coating itself in his blood.
Pajk pulled himself up and charged at the drone. He clumsily threw himself at it, the two stumbling around. The Jaëger's optical sensor flashed brightly, as if to express its anger and frustration at him. It got on all fours and leapt towards him. He narrowly dodged it by rolling to his side and quickly but steadily got to his feet. He barely managed to block the drone's upper strike with his trench club. It mercilessly struck at him, fervently trying to break his resolve to block its every move. It swiftly changed its pattern and went for a horizontal slash. He expertly stepped back and drove his foot into its right knee, shattering the joint. It pathetically collapsed on the ground. Without hesitation, the head was crushed under his heavy sole.
The brutal melee was shortly over, only four out of the nine remaining Grenadiers survived, and Pajk was now the most senior member of the squad. They were all battered, exhausted and gravely wounded, yet they all stared intently at him, waiting to obey his commands.
He looked around confusedly and stopped at the Watchmaster's cold corpse. He hesitantly retrieved the chainsword, the grenades and laspistol. He activated his vox-beads and coldly reported:
"Pillbox L-44-2 secured. Proceeding to arm heavy weapons and engage any hostiles. Out."
Shiden released a tired sigh as she sat deeper into her seat. She grabbed a ration tube food from her cockpit's storage compartment. As she poked the straw in, she unzipped her uniform to allow her plump chest to breathe.
"Excellent work everyone." The gentle bell-like voice of Major Milizé spoke through her Para-Raid, bringing a faint smile to the Colorata, "We've suffered zero casualties, and you've saved a lot of lives out there. You've earned your rest."
"Don't give all the credits to us, your Majesty!" Shiden retorted, "We wouldn't survive without your tactical genius!"
"U-um… t-thank you, S-Shiden…" Her smile grew wider at the Major's fluster and embarrassment. By God she was just too easy and cute to tease with.
"Jeez, get a room you two already!" Mika complained.
"W-w-what?! T-that is s-so inappropriate, Mika!" Lena sputtered, becoming a fumbling mess by the second.
As the rest of the squadron teased their Handler, Shiden couldn't help but cover her wide toothy grin and tears of joy.
She didn't deny it! I still have a shot!
Her attention was drawn away from the light-hearted conversation as she spotted the large formations of Thunderbolts and Marauders in the night sky, conducting their usual bombing runs. The sky immediately lit up with flak fire and tracer rounds as the Imperial Navy's flyers reached enemy territory. The pilots bravely stormed through hellfire and unleashed unrestrained destruction upon the Legion masses. Tall walls of fire and black smoke washed over the forests and hills across no man's land, exterminating everything in their path.
Shiden solemnly stared at the chaotic destruction that waged across the San Magnolian countryside. Everything the Imperium touched was immediately turned to ash, expertly extinguishing any lifeform that wasn't human. She appreciated their help, sincerely, but she started to doubt if her world would ever recover once the Legion was eliminated. How would they regrow crops and feed themselves if the land became a barren wasteland.
On that depressing note, she joined the rest of her squadron as they began the trek back to their base to catch some much-needed rest.
Rüstkammer Base, Federal Republic of Giad, June 4th SY 2149
Shin reunited with the only surviving members of Spearhead Squadron: Raiden, Theo, Anju and Kurena. After completing basic officer training three months ago, the Processors of Spearhead Squadron were transferred to the 1028th Trial Unit under the direct command of Lieutenant Colonel Grethe Wenzel. The Eighty-Six survivors have tirelessly tested and pushed to the limits Wenzel's new project: the XM2 Reginleif.
This experimental third-generation Feldreß was greatly inspired by M1A4 Juggernaut, using Shin's wrecked Undertaker as a model. Designed with high-mobility and manoeuvrability in mind, the war machine was much smaller, lighter but more agile than the sluggish and slow M4A3 Vánagandr of the Federacy.
The Reginleif's main cannon was upgraded to an 88mm smoothbore gun, but it can be modified with either a 30mm autocannon, multiple-launch rocket pads or an 88mm howitzer artillery gun depending on the pilot's fighting style and role. Its armour was also upgraded, able to withstand direct hits from 12.7mm rounds and high-velocity shrapnel. Despite the added weight from the improved armour and larger calibre guns, the Reginleif was faster and nimbler than the skeletal Juggernaut, all thanks to an upgraded propulsion system. It also boasted a myriad of safety features, increasing the pilot's survival.
However, the Reginleif was also a double-edged sword. Its insane mobility and agility proved to be difficult, even deadly, for the average Giadian pilot, and with its comparatively light armour, it left no room for error. Each movement, each action, each pause counted for the pilot's survival. It was temporarily deployed to the frontlines, where it got an abysmal operational history and gained infamy among Giadian troops… expect with the Federacy's auxiliary units. In the right hands and skills, the Reginleif was able to change the tide of battle.
He took a seat in the small meeting room and waited for Wenzel to show up for their weekly review of the Reginleif's performance. The Giadian officer finally arrived and hastily greeted the group. She handed each member a computer tablet that allowed them to input their opinions and suggestions to improve the experimental war machine.
"First of all," Wenzel began, "I want to thank all of you for the support missions you've been doing. You've saved untold thousands of lives out there. And I must say, the Reginleif is working wonders with you guys. So, what do you think, Lieutenant Nouzen? Do you like them?" She asked with a wide and curious grin, her eyes flashed eagerly and with anticipation for his praises.
Shin let out a tired sigh and nonchalantly stared at the Giadian officer. "If you're asking about the Juggernauts…"
"Reginleifs." She corrected him dryly.
"Juggernauts." He repeated.
"Reginleifs!"
"Juggernauts."
Wenzel sensed that he won't budge, firmly maintaining in calling her pet projects Juggernauts. "Fine…" She conceded reluctantly. "So?"
"They're still aluminium coffins, slightly better than the ones we had in the Republic."
"Heh? … that… that's all?" Wenzel asked incredulously, baffled at Shin's blunt and minimal input, "What about you guys?" She turned to the other Processors.
"Did she not know?" Kurena whispered to Anju.
"Those things were only designed for mobility, not safety." Theo explained.
"They're responsible for the deaths of several Processors." Anju stated.
"We're still alive because we're experienced and probably lucky." Raiden clarified.
"All right, all right, stop right there." The colonel demanded in exasperation, "They're slightly better than my designs made me seriously doubt the sanity of the idiot who made them. Did they fail engineering school?"
"It was all we were given." Shin affirmed.
"I see…"
Grethe was visibly upset. She thought that she improved on the archaic design and really believed in increasing the pilot's chances of survival and enhancing their fighting capabilities. Instead, it was just a meagre upgrade and a few touch ups.
"They're not bad. I don't think." Shin offered plainly as a praise, thinking it would help the colonel's mood. "Though they do require a certain sort of Processor. I appreciate their speed. They're fast, but also very precise. And highly mobile despite the added weight."
"Couldn't you just have said that from the start?" Wenzel asked with irritation. She rested her forehead in one hand, rubbing the fatigue out of her eyes, "I guess that you're all more comfortable with piloting those Feldreß than the Vánagandr? And I can also guess that nothing I will say to convince otherwise wouldn't change your minds?"
The Eighty-Six stared in silence as their answer.
She grinned sadly, "I'm very much against the idea of sending child soldiers to the frontlines but the Cadians and our troops on the field have spoken highly of you. Thank you for your honest opinion, lieutenants. I'll make sure to send out another round of upgrades. Look forward to it." She said confidently.
Theo yawned.
They were out of the meeting room and were allowed a ten-minute break outside to catch some fresh air. They all hanged out just outside the hangar that housed the XM2 Reginleifs and quietly rested against its wall. Teams of black armoured heavy infantrymen secured and patrolled around the sensitive site, barring to all and any personnel that dared to venture too close to Wenzel's facilities.
Although the Eighty-Six have already gone into combat with the experimental Feldreß, project Reginleif was still secretive, only deployed far from the Maginot Line and where there weren't many actions. Rumours have spread among the common soldier, but no one knew about the specifics, the pilots or the combat capabilities. Fortunately for Wenzel and the Eighty-Six, something caught the attention of the troops. A new unit trained to the standards of Cadian shock troopers, funded with the best equipment the Federacy can offer and made up only of strong willed, determined and daring volunteers: the 1st Grenadiers Regiment.
The Processors watched with awe and curiosity as Federacy cargo planes soared past the airfield and rows of green canopies deployed in the air.
"That's so cool!" Kurena exclaimed with stars in her eyes, "I want to do that!"
"Yeah, no." Theo replied bluntly, "Not very fond of the whole jumping out of a plane schtick."
"I dunno. I could be fun." Anju said with small smile, admiring the soldiers' courage. "Although just once… more than that and I might freak out."
"Hehe, same here," Raiden agreed and extended his legs out to stretch out the numbness he felt when seating in the cramped and small lawn chair, "These guys are either nuts or have balls of steel… or maybe both."
He slightly turned his head to Shin, "Got any intel on them?"
The Reaper hesitated before nodding, "Not much. I just know that there are only Vargus volunteers in that unit. Just like the ones that are part of this trial unit."
Raiden crossed his arms and stared back at the floating parachutes, now touching the grassy field just outside the airstrip. "I guess they'll be permanently attached to us. Like a support unit?"
"That's what I've heard." Shin replied bluntly.
"Hey! Lieutenants!" A woman's voice stirred their attention away, "Break's over. The colonel's waitin' for you."
She wore the Federacy's khaki mechanic uniform. A rather short woman compared to her team of mechanics, sergeant Justine Hino has a short-temper and wasn't afraid to speak her mind out. Which was probably why she was assigned to Wenzel's unit as chief mechanic of the maintenance crew despite being promoted two months ago.
The Eighty-Six quietly obliged, not wanting to anger the woman that was responsible for their war machines' wellbeing. Especially Shin, who was more respectful and more docile towards sergeant Hino than to Aldrecht.
"Oh, and lieutenant Nouzen?" Hino inquired as she stared at the boy, "Can you please ease up on using the high-frequency blades? These things ain't cheap and they're a pain in the ass to install. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am." Nouzen nodded obediently, eager to return to the meeting rather than take a chance with the woman's wrath. That was mistake he won't repeat twice.
Wolfsland, the Western Front, Federal Republic of Giad, June 12th SY 2149
The Chimera halted with a screech. Captain Lenck pushed open the turret's hatch door and peeked her head out, scanning the battlefield with her magnoculars. The Legion have managed to pierce through the Giadian line and are pushing hard through the sector, with the regiment's headquarters on the verge of collapse. Already half of the fortified village, that garrisoned the 27th Infantry Regiment, was under enemy control. Vánagandr companies from adjacent sectors tried to stall the enemy advance but were also overwhelmed and pinned down by Skorpion barrages.
"This is a fucking mess!" Lenck groaned in frustration, "Mortars and AT teams disembark here. The rest of you follow me. We're securing and holding crossroad Gold-3. I want Heavy Bolters and Lascannons on elevated overwatch positions if possible. We'll stop the enemy there."
The rest of the company moved out. Upon reaching their sector, each Chimera dropped off their infantry squad. Heavy weapons squads hastily set up in buildings and on the road, stacking up sandbags and improvised barricades. Squads of Guardsmen secured flanking alleyways and hab blocks.
"Here they come!"
"Open fire! Strike them down for the God-Emperor!" Lenck bellowed sternly.
The crossroad was immediately illuminated by red streaks of lasguns and Lascannons. Heavy Bolters hollered mightily, each devastating Bolt round hit its mark and cracked the Legion drones' armour. The first enemy wave was swiftly destroyed and a second came. But something felt odd; the autonomous machines were using squad-level formations.
Taking the full brunt of the Guardsmen's unrelenting barrage were the Löwes, shielding their smaller comrades while providing suppressive fire as they progress through the street. Ameises and Jaëgers returned fire underneath the walking tanks while the Grauwolves split off into smaller groups and searched for any flanking routes or climbed on top of buildings to provide indirect fire support. The Legion was rapidly adapting to the Imperial Guard's combined arms tactics and squad-level initiatives.
"Lascannons, take out those tanks ASAP!" Lenck shouted into her vox-headset.
She ducked behind cover as a Chimera exploded violently near her. A flash of searing heat washed over her while shrapnel flew dangerously by her. A Guardsman numbly fell on top of her. She gasped and shoved him aside, only to realise that he was deceased. A piece of the destroyed Chimera was lodged in his skull.
"Grau-uh something – damn it!" The Colour Sergeant swore, "Crawlers on the bleedin' roofs, ten o'clock!"
The Heavy Bolter team rapidly reacquired their new targets and let loose short burst of Bolter fire, pummelling the lithe Grauwolves to shattered pieces. The pair of Cadians were swiftly dealt with by a direct hit from a Löwe's high-explosive shell. The mortars smashed through the Legion's ranks, but it wasn't enough to slow them down. The remaining Löwes halted in their advance and prioritised to eliminating heavy weapons platforms and Chimeras. The Ameises and Jaëgers surged forward, overwhelming the company of Cadian shock troopers.
"Fix bayonets! Stand and die protocol!"
Lenck wiped out her Bolt pistol and chainsword. Her heavy pistol jumped strongly with each shot fired, hitting her targets in close range. Each incoming Jaëger was dispatched with a deftly slash and pushed the eviscerated scrap metal aside, holding her ground as she destroyed every foe that came towards her, blatantly ignoring the flying bullets around her.
To her sides, she saw her Guardsmen dying one at a time, either hit by a bullet or skewered by a Jaëger. The odds were against them, but she and her Guardsmen will not falter in the face of the enemy. They'll just need to hold long enough until the Giadians regroup and counterattack. Just a bit longer. Just a bit more. If only she had more time.
Two Jaëgers charged her. She blew one to pieces with her Bolt pistol before the weapon was kicked out of her hand by the second. She blocked the incoming downward strike and revved her chainsword, chewing through the Jaëger's blade. It drove its knee into her guts. She doubled over and accidentally let go of her melee weapon. The chainsword continued to rev hungrily and cleaved through the drone's torso.
It staggered back weakly, looking down at the destructive wound. Lenck drew her combat knife and tackled her opponent to the ground. She viciously stabbed through its head, neutralizing its processor.
"Piece of shit…" She spat angrily, "Form up! Regroup in the Emperor's name! Cadia stands!"
"Cadia stands!" Roared her company.
Emboldened by their company commander, the Cadians pushed back, steadily retaking their defensive line. But the Löwes were still a major threat, providing cover fire for the third enemy wave.
Their secondary heavy stubbers scythed through the Cadians, leaving trails of disembowelled Guardsmen and scattered corpses. All remaining heavy weapons teams were killed and a few handfuls of Chimeras stood between the Legion and the town's HQ.
She quickly grabbed her weapons back and led the shock troopers by the front. She faced the incoming enemy wave and spotted one of the Löwes aiming directly at her. Looks like her time was up. She scowled with resolved determination and burning zeal. She welcomed her death and was ready to be greeted to the Eternal Gates. Maybe she would finally reunite with her husband.
An explosion detonated. The Löwe stumbled and crudely crashed into a building and Ameise below it. Lenck looked around with a puzzled expression and caught a glimpse of a long and white silhouette vaulting over buildings at incredible speeds. It gracefully slid on the ground and slashed the legs of two Löwes, immobilizing them before it jumped on their turrets and used them as a vantage point.
"What in Creed's swagger?" A Guardsman voiced her exact thought.
They were staring at another war machine, familiar yet extremely different. It was a quadrupedal Feldreß, cover in bone-white coloured armour. It had a back mounted large calibre cannon, pile drivers on each of its thick legs and two large sharp blades. On the machine's canopy bore a personal mark: a headless skeletal knight holding a shovel.
"Captain Nouzen…?" Lenck whispered in disbelief.
More of the unidentified war machines jumped into the fray, dispatching the enemy wave with ease and expert coordination. They danced around their preys, unleashing accurate fire and deadly strikes in close ranges. Without saying a word, they soon departed to another sector, leaving behind piles of scrap metal and smoking husks.
The Guardsmen stood motionless, dumbfounded by the spectacle in front of them. Colour Sergeant Friedsburg cautiously approached Lenck, glancing at the crossroad before looking back at her.
"Who the fuck were they?"
Shin hopped down from Undertaker. After the successful counterattack, the Giadians were able to plug the holes in the Maginot Line. The 1028th Trial Unit was deployed to the frontline and gone through a baptism by fire with remarkable results. Zero fatalities, two wounded and a heavily damaged XM2 Reginleif.
He ran a hand through his sweaty mess of jet-black hair and stretched his back. He stood just outside the 27th Infantry Regiment's headquarters. The other Eighty-Six were also instructed to join him while the Nordlicht Squadron, made up mostly of Vargus volunteers, were assigned to the rear to secure a supply line.
Nouzen searched through his cockpit and grabbed his field ration. He prepared his evening meal at the HQ's courtyard while he waited for the rest of his squadron. Weary Giadian soldiers looked either with curiosity or amusement at the lone Processor casually heating up his meal amidst the distant cacophony of artillery barrages and hectic firefights.
His Para-Raid earpiece beeped to life.
"Two minutes out." Raiden reported dutifully.
"Copy. I'm in the courtyard." He replied nonchalantly and soon realized with he just said, "You can't really miss me. There's only one Juggernaut out here."
"Yeah… We've already figured that out, Shin. Who do you take us for, dude?" Theo retorted incredulously.
"Anyways, about those Cadians… did any of you managed to figure out which company they were from?" Raiden asked curiously.
"Second Company," Shin replied while pouring himself a cup of instant coffee, "I spotted Captain Lenck amongst them."
"I thought I saw her as well," Anju confirmed.
"Good to see that they are still kickin'!" Kurena commented with a grin.
The Pyrope pilot shifted his head to the HQ's entrance gates as he heard the familiar rumbles of the Reginleif's engines approaching his position. He retrieved his well heated meal, ripped the retort pouch and dug a plastic spoon into the mush of grinded meat and vegetables. The group of Eighty-Six pilots reunited around the small fire as they heated their Federacy issued field rations.
"Are you the boys and gals that saved our asses back there?" A gravely voice boomed behind them.
Startled, expect Shin, they spurred around and stared curiously at a Giadian officer. He wore the standard steel-coloured panzer jacket dress uniform with a dark green sash across his chest to denote his rank.
"Colonel Reynal, commanding the 27th Infantry Regiment." He introduced to them cordially as he walked towards Nouzen. He extended his right hand out. "I reckon you're the squadron leader. What's your name and unit, son?"
Shin hesitated for a second before he firmly grabbed the older man's hand, "Second Lieutenant Shinei Nouzen, 1028th Trial Unit."
"Trial Unit? Wait… isn't that Wenzel's unit?" Reynal asked with wide baffled eyes. They all nodded in unison. "Well, I'll be damned," He turned to observe the XM2s that occupied his courtyard. He noticed the nose arts on the war machines and then looked back at the pilots, noting their surprising young age.
"You have my thanks, Lieutenant Nouzen. If you need anything, warm chow, beds or hot showers, don't hesitate to holler. Carry on." He said and walked back to the headquarters.
Shin glanced back at the others and shrugged indifferently. Fido arrived shortly after with other Scavenger units and a team of mechanics for the squadron's quick field repairs, rearmament and refuelling.
First Ward, Eastern Front, Republic of San Magnolia, June 15th SY 2149
The whistle blew deafeningly. Officers barked at them sternly to go over the top. Beyond the wire and into no man's land. The soldiers let out their bold battle cry as they charged through the contaminated battlefield. Sergeant Lutz Kosowski breathed heavily as he trudged through the man-made marsh land and moon-like craters, being mindful as to not slip and fall into the mud or crushing a decomposing corpse.
The soldiers of the 91st Infantry Regiment led the assault to recapture the first trench line, lost to the Legion a week ago. They were flanked by the Death Korps' 17th and 18th infantry companies on the left and the Seventh Tank Regiment on the right. The regiment's LAV-30 IFVs spearheaded the assault, stirring the Legion from their short slumber and kicked the hornet's nest.
The Legion responded in kind, with brutal and cold efficiency.
An apocalyptic deluge of shells and bullets swept across no man's land. Vehicles burst into flames, whole sections of earth levelled, men torn to shreds or vaporized into red mists. The enemy sent in their light armour and infantry, halting the humans in the kill zone and delay their advance. The two forces clashed violently. Artillery shells made no distinction between friend or foe. Bodies piled up while streams of blood and oil filled the massive craters.
Lutz skewered the Jaëger drone. He kicked it off and put two rounds in its head. Krieg guardsmen and Republic soldiers were mixed in, entire companies got lost in the maelstrom of battle, but they all went in the same direction: the enemy trench line.
Following a group of Korpsmen, Lutz sprinted across the hellish battlefield, miraculously evading flying bullets and shrieking shells. There was barely a ten-metre gap between him and the forward trench when a mortar smashed in the middle of the Death Korps squad. They were flung away, some lost their limbs while others had their guts wide open.
The Republic soldier got to his feet, dazed but overall, still alive and kicking. He hastily grabbed his mud-covered rifle and crawled to his objective. He spotted a wounded Krieger, helplessly clutching at his stumped right leg. He crouched up and made his way to the wounded. He almost fainted at the sight. The right leg was blown off right above the knee, revealing the bone sticking out and veins profusely pumping out blood. Half of his body was also covered in dark stains of blood, probably hit by multiple shrapnel. He grabbed his own tourniquet and quickly wrapped it at the root of his right leg. With some hesitation and panic, he tightly pulled on the strap.
The wounded Korpsman let out a pained scream that caught Lutz off guard. He recognized a feminine voice. Snapping back from his trance, he grabbed the stick and turned, further tightened the tourniquet. The Korpsman, or rather Korpswoman, cried out in agony, slamming her right fist against the mud to endure the pain. Once he secured the stick, his hands went under the guardswoman's armpits and heaved her up. He pulled the wounded soldier towards the trench and carefully pushed her in. Unfortunately, she hit her stump on the fire step causing more pain and foreign cuss words escaping her mouth.
"fuckfuckfuck, I'm so sorry!" He said concernedly while he checked for other wounds.
More guardsmen and soldiers poured into the trench, securing the many bunkers and choking galleries. A group of four Republic soldiers jumped down next to him, noticing the wounded Krieg guardswoman.
"Hey! I need one of you to help me carry her and get a medic!"
"Sergeant…"
"Come on! Double time!" Lutz urged them sternly.
"Sergeant, she's dead." One of them said grimly.
He turned to the guardswoman and realised too late that the Krieger has succumbed to her wounds. Dark bloodstains pooled on her torso, tainting her dark brown trench coat. One of the Albas knelt down and examined the wounds.
"She must've lost too much blood." He deduced flatly.
"Are you a medic?" Lutz challenged sceptically.
"No, but I've seen enough of our young boys getting torn to shred to tell how long they'll last. And she won't make it even if we carried her back to an aid station." The soldier, a corporal, answered frankly.
The soldiers stood around the body in silence, waiting for sergeant Kosowski to issue an order. The corporal, maybe caught with his inner thoughts, started to reach for the Korpswoman's gas mask.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Lutz asked incredulously.
"Have you ever seen a Krieger without his mask?" Lutz shook his head in response, "Neither do I. Gonna take a peek. Besides, she's already dead, no?"
The others didn't protest either. They all leaned in over the body, morbidly curious to see the naked face of the stoic Krieg guardsman. The corporal gingerly unclipped the helmet and lifted the gas mask off. They all gasped in surprise.
"She's… she's just a fucking a kid…" One of the soldiers commented.
The Krieger was a teenager, no older than 16 or 17. She had pallid skin with gaunt features due to a lack of sunlight exposure. She had chestnut messy brown hair, cut just at neck level, tied hastily in a bow. Her pale emerald eyes stared lifelessly at the ground with a faint and forlorn smile.
"A pretty thing," The corporal grabbed her cheeks and inspected her features more closely, "Too bad she's dead."
"That's enough!" Lutz forcefully pulled him away from the cadaver, "Have some decency and respect for her!" He reprimanded sternly.
"Like she and her kind have for us? Do they show respect for our dead?" The senior enlisted soldier raised his voice, challenging the sergeant.
"Now's not the fucking time, Andrei," One of the privates spoke up, "Come on, before a Commissar sees us and blam us all."
Quietly, the San Magnolian soldiers regrouped with their respective platoons, clearing the rest of the trench line. Kosowski made sure that the Korpswoman's helmet and gas mask were secured to her head before leaving.
Though the Death Korps and the San Magnolians have successfully captured the trench line, they would soon abandon it four hours later, pushed back and soundly beaten by a massive Legion counterattack. Their dead were irrecoverable, forever damned and harvested by the enemy.