Hey-ho, hope there's fans of warhammer 40k or atleast warhammer out there, if not then don't worry there is a basic description and explanation for a few things and ya don't need to be a fan of the world to like the story. It's approx. 6000words and centres around the story of a lieutenant of an Imperial guard regiment, that suffers from mental break downs and is faced with a difficult challenge.
Overall I wanted to introduce myself, going to be a full scale author soon and I love writing, roleplaying and discussing things. To get an idea of my writing I chose this story I tried using for a competition (Didn't work out) Either way I'm good at writing fight scenes and character development, but my writing is pretty hard to understand at times and some things in my plot ideas can be flawed. Overall enjoy the story to those who read it.
Thirty minutes had passed since the war council had begun for the eighty-fourth Whosville regiment otherwise known as the Museville regiment. It was held in secrecy from the other Imperial guard regiments, as Major-politician Oskarus had foresaw those who would become turn in a matter of days and perhaps weeks and needed somewhere for the Museville to share their own knowledge and battle plans. They held it in one of the abandoned homes of the evacuated city for military operations and had been sliding fingers across the map pointing at locations and debating about battle plans.
“So are you saying that you desire for our eighth company to advance on here Major-Politician?” Asked one of the company commanders wanting the regimental commander to repeat.
Oskarus almost seemed blended in his surroundings at how the officers kept their respectable distances from him and the way he almost never moved and his face hidden from his steel plated mask. “Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s when Colonel Vikitun will have defected and will try to blindside us by ordering his company to be removed from the front, being that at that time command surveillance will be least active, from there our forces will deploy just in time to surprise attack our enemy.”
“I see.” Responded the officer, not that he suspected Oskarus was wrong, but disliked how unorthodox the strategy was and that they didn’t bring this up to anyone else. Trying to futilely hide his distaste though, the officer lifted his chest out and announced. “Very well Major-Politician, it shall be done.”
“Good we have two days for this operation to be underway, you are all dismissed.” Instructed Oskarus peacefully.
As the officers went out to carry out their orders to their regiments, Lieutenant Zerakun Sebathon, but known as ‘Zerk’ for short, was behind the queue of exiting officers, a part of the eighth company, he was halted before he could close the door behind him. “Could I have private moment with you Lieutenant Zerk if you do not mind?” Requested Oskarus politely.
For a moment Zerk paused, questioning in his own thoughts what Oskarus would want with him. Wanting to see if it was Oskarus, Zerk glanced his auspex scanner that was attached to his right eye. Soon as he acknowledged it was him, Zerk stood to his full height, which was only above average Imperial height and holding his guardsmen blue Cadian helmet curled under his armpit, which in turn revealed Zerk’s greasy dark blonde hair.
“Yes Military Major-Politician Oskarus.” Zerk addressed Oskarus by his full rank.
“This will not be a very pleasant battle, in fact because that we’ll be trying to move into a position that will have been undefended for more than five minutes and the heretic army will be advancing that is expecting there to be no enemies, the expected collusion will be devastating and I am afraid we will lose much memorable men in the aftermath.”
“Indeed.” Nodded Zerk trying to follow what Oskarus was wanting.
Taking a few steps around the table map, Oskarus had pulled up left hand from behind himself and placed it on one of the locations. “It is fair to warn you that the traitor Astartes will send a fragment of their force here.” And then waited for Zerk to approach and see. “Once they realise they have been countered, but ineffectively, they will send a detachment of their own force to attempt to breakthrough our lines, which in turn will collapse the rest of our company and lead to the defeat of this campaign, I have specifically sent Commissar Jake there to make sure he holds it, but he will need you to help him.”
Looking down at the map, it was a fine place to appear. The fact that the traitor Astartes would slighter through a straight, narrow street and would make them only visible to a minimal sized platoon and by the way, exits and entries came out from sewers and connected alleyways, they could spring themselves before the defenders could warn anyone. Also if they pierced through the defenders, they could lance through the rest of the Imperial guard company that would be fighting to get into position. Understanding the full assets of it now, Zerk bowed. “Yes Major-Politician, it will be done.”
At 1830 no more than twelve hours until the counter-operation begun and the Museville regiment eighth company on their second last meals for today. Away from the group however, Zerk had took the time to walk over to a gravestone site he had seen while passing this place. It was an isolated thing on top of grass hill that was well carved and had the markings of the Emperor, probably meaning this person buried that had been buried use to be a part of the Eccelesiarchy or by chance a member of the Inquisition.
Either way Zerk did precisely care and wasn’t here to care. Something in his mind rattled from seeing the grave stone now in front of him and awakened memories inside his head. He recalled they day his Father had grew ill, a high-classed politician, who had gained much of his power through noble inheritance. At first Zerk’s Father swore he would recover quickly and at only the age of twelve Zerk believed him, but after two months after it proved wrong.
The fact that his Father was incorrect about his chances of survival had caused him to ignore signing any wills. This led to an old fashion political and bureaucratic take over by rivals and former allies of the Sebathon family, especially since the successor was no more than twelve and the Sebathon’s former power had been ripped apart and vacuumed aside just like that.
Luckily not all had been lost. Zerk’s Mother’s side of the family was as well of noble birth and had managed to retain its status in the leeching storm, but his Mother only being a female successor of her own family had little power to give. It was just enough though to keep him in a fancy, but small home and give him the somewhat needs he deserved and taught the educations he could get to become a proper Whosville politician.
Nonetheless when Zerk was at the appropriate age of fifteen to take charge, he was stuck with what he had. Owning but small-time craft shops and a handful of thugs that formed gangs to defend what power he had. It was enough though for what Zerk needed to live on and keep himself off the streets. However this only led to brutal power struggles on the street to keep his power being sucked up just like three years ago, from other desperate nobles or merchants needing to expand their district that involved much treachery and blood.
The way his corrupt town government was formed and structured, didn’t make it any easier and only showed that the strong and ambitious could survive. It was the same way for the rest of Whosville, but that’s how politics normally worked. However as Zerk began to lose hope for his home world, the politician Oskarus had appeared.
It had been five years since Zerk struggled to assert authority of his own, but once Oskarus had returned from the campaign- Jarrick IV, he forefilled promises which most politicians did not normally do. He reformed entire cities, removing those who were corrupted and forefilling new laws which weak people could live under. In a chain event, thanks to his own allies that had assisted Oskarus, their new gain power shed onto Zerk due to percentage shares and what not and Zerk had used to evaluate his status from what it once been.
Feeling so grateful for Oskarus’ existence, Zerk had signed up into his Museville regiment, which had led him into many fierce campaigns. Though Zerk could feel the unease of this upcoming battle and felt that his debt to Oskarus would be fully repaid during it. But he couldn’t help the burden he was undergoing now, how he was still struggling take his Father’s place.
“Why Father.” Whispered Zerk finally speaking. “Why did you leave so early with me carrying such burden?”
There was nothing but a familiar cold silence from the headstone. Like all noble politicians that held such heavy tasks, Zerk’s father couldn’t lift a smile for him or properly congrat him in his work, being so tired from his duties. Taking it the wrong way though, Zerk had fallen onto his hands and knees with his head tucked away from the tomb stone, unable to stand proud.
“I know I was growing up like a spoiled brat while you were alive.” And then slamming his right hand into the ground, Zerk yanked his head back to the gravestone yelling “But I’ve changed since, I learned what it means to carry your herald and I’ve managed to get the Sebathon bring back onto its two feet, what must I do now!”
Regardless that Zerk had given such pleads to it, it remained frozen cold only mimicking what Zerk’s father was once like, or atleast what Zerk saw it doing. Feeling the madden rush at how Zerk wasn’t getting through to it, he begun to give a deep snarling glare that was beginning to change Zerk inside. Getting back up onto his feet, Zerk looked down at the gravestone and spoke harshly.
“Very well Father, I guess I’ll just have to rely upon myself again.” And like that Zerk turned away from the tombstone and walked off.
Next day at 0545, forty-five minutes before the Museville eighth company would engage the chaos forces, the Whosville guardsmen went about their work under the improvised barracks they were designated in, loading up weapons and securing flak armour. The officers went about calling last minute drill inspections to assure his lot look the finest.
In the former warehouse building, where Zerk’s platoon was stored, the commissar Jake or preferably called as Commissar Ratling was having a difficult time as usual. Even though he had one of the highest authorities among any others in the Museville regiment, he was still not treated with the respect he felt he deserved. Mainly because of his dark height and the way he built made him look remarkably a ratling, although he was pure human.
There was a little idea how Ratling became a Commissar, he had all the proof and identification, but he didn’t have the stature or cruel face to intimidate his subordinates. The only methods that Commissar Ratling did have was the old fashion way to simply execute anyone who got out of line and the fact that he came with an insensitive whining.
“Hurry up, why aren’t you moving fast enough!” Yelled Commissar Ratling. While he shouted his commands, one of the squad sergeants- Gif, walked pass and gave a grinning slap on the back of Commissar Ratling’s head, causing his hat to tip over his face. When the short Commissar recovered his position and looking for who did that. “Sergeant Gif, I expect a sincere apology this moment.”
A bit embarrassed he was being yelled at like that, the sergeant continued to snigger over to his other squad mates who were busy cleaning their weapons. The familiar strong dislike Commissar Ratling had for everyone who had that smile made him want to blast the worm’s head off, but from past experiences from doing so made the Commissar look for other ways to take care of people like him.
“Sergeant Gif, listen to your superior officer immediately and apologize!” Snapped a more assertive voice.
Making his presence known throughout the entire room, Lieutenant Zerk marched up with a hard-locked glance at the sergeant. Behind Zerk was his scarred Platoon standard bearer, standing mighty with the flagged pole in his grip, unwrapped yet until the battle. The standard bearer was known as Huskar, one of Zerk’s former gang leaders, which had suffered a deep scar from the upper right corner of his face, down into his right eye socket and out again, then under his nose to his upper left side of his lip. He gained the scar and cut out eye when he had been captured and tortured from a rival faction until he had been ransomed over.
Growing a scene of wandering eyes around him and having the unwanted attention of Huskar who was known for dealing with bothersome guardsmen like him, sergeant Gif’s smirk began to cave into all the tension around him and choked a bit as he struggled to find the right words to counter this. But knowing his child antics couldn’t save him from this, sergeant Gif spluttered to the commissar. “Apologies sir.”
Making two loud clicks forward with his feet, Zerk gave a stern mad look at Gif. “What sergeant!”
Unable to handle any more pressure, especially with Zerk reminding him that he dealt with bothersome guardsmen too. “Apologies Commissar Ratling!”
“Good and you better now act like you just did now when we arrive on the battlefield!” Ordered Zerk.
Without probably replying, the sergeant turned about and scattered off back to his men. Now that he was done with him, Zerk turned about to the Commissar who was agonisingly fixing the wacked bruise to his cap. “I am sorry to Commissar; sergeant Gif has a few issue problems-.”
“I had it under control Lieutenant Zerk!” Interrupted Commissar Ratling barking. “I do not need you to assert my authority!”
It was unsurprising the Commissar Ratling was acting this way thought Zerk. He never liked the fact that he was a Commissar that could be challenged and was easily made a foul out of by the entire regiment because of his appearance. Nonetheless Commissar Ratling could hold his own against the lot, still being able to overcome bad behaviour, but Zerk didn’t have time for the Commissar to be arguing with his men, they only had fifteen minutes.
Still Zerk needed an explanation. “Yes, I could see that, but I’m needing you to start drilling the men, the operation is soon about to begin.”
“We’ve got time to spare Zerk and the men still aren’t fully equipped yet.” Groaned Commissar Ratling placing his cap back onto his head.
“Sorry, I’m a bit anxious, Oskarus explained to me about the situation and how critical it is.”
“Well you best put those feelings aside, with roughly only thirty men to hold a block full of repulsive chaos, you’ll have to be sharp for it.” Adviced Commissar Ratling and then brushing pass Zerk.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Responded Zerk taking the time to think about that.
0630 the mission begins. The abandoned position had been a still standing city, due to the fact that the enemy had little artillery. There were still traces of scars and blasted walls, but what really made the place look like a battlefield were the sandbags walls and foxholes and the litters of bodies scattered everywhere.
Once again though, another fierce battle had unveiled amongst the streets. Among them, chaos cultists, consisting of mainly ragged and ravening lunatics that all carried some form of mutation, varying from the discolourment of skin and the sliding tentacle that either replaced a limb or extend from somewhere around their body and wielded not so much as an improvised weapons or/and las weapon.
Making up for the ill-equipped ranks were recent traitors who had lost faith in the Emperor and believed that the Ruinous power showed more evidence to be on their side. With their armour painted or mysteriously changed colours of purple or blue and most of their equipment scarred or mould to berrid of their sign of allegiance to the Emperor.
This mad force of begotten soldiers had advanced in an encroaching pace when their former adversaries had fallen back due to their company commander turned traitor. But as they were getting into reach of the fortifications they thought they would reach without any hostility, the Museville’s eighth company had appeared charging through the streets opening up with gunfire.
Out in the opening and caught off guard, many of the chaos worshippers had been lashed back by the unexpected appearance of the imperial guard. Still with high moral, huge numbers and having covered a lot of distance already, the mad rush of traitors pushed forward and fired with what ranged-weapons they had.
The battle had then gone off into a straightforward close-combat where the chaos incursion pressed against the imperial guard lines trying to retake walls and foxholes. Amongst them was Lieutenant Zerk, whose lines were being led by Commissar Ratling in a fanatical frenzy. If there was one kind of people that the commissar wasn’t going to accept mocking about his body-built, it was the enemies of the Emperor.
Using his power sword to full effect, Commissar Ratling had cut a bloody swathe over the enemies that had already managed to climb over, with the infantry squads armed with bayonets following his lead. A small distances behind, Lieutenant Zerk had kept surveying the scene in front of him and wanting to conserve strength for the forthcoming chaos space marines Oskarus had warned would show and the fact so that he could get incoming messages from his vox-casters and keep up words of encouragement and orders.
Fighting against the piles of dreaded mobs wasn’t too hard for the Commissar to carve apart. Their mutations proved to be nothing but ornaments on the bodies and were so lightly armed and skilled that it surprised Ratling that these scum thought numbers would be enough to defy the Emperor.
Just after the chaos cultists had been pressed back and the infantry squads had managed to hit against the sandbag wall with las rifles at the ready, but before they could an a group of traitor guardsmen had suddenly snapped shots before they could. The outbursts of shots had caused the squads to hide behind the sandbags and cancel on opening fire, but no casualties were received thanks to the well place cover.
Once traitors started needing to reload, the loyalists clambered over the sandbags with rifles ready and when the sergeants told their squads “Fire!” A crackling fusillade of unleashed shots hit back into the traitors sprawling a hand-full of them into the ground and staggering many more.
With the loyalists holding behind reasonable cover, the traitors began to try and do the same, sheltering behind bodies of fallen comrades or going behind alley corners, but wasn’t effective enough. Not just because of the ill suited cover, but at how the traitors all organisation traits and the fact their weapons were not as supplied as what they use to be.
Watching from behind, Zerk could see the traitors going trying to seek shelter and nodded to his heavy weapons team, which then hurried forward up to the bunker. They would have been early deployed, but because Zerk was trying a saviour some strength for the chaos space marines, he wanted to assure the crew survived when they did arrive.
However now having their chance, the infantry squads made room for the heavy weapons team to have some room and go up against. The weapons carrier toggled the missile launcher under his shoulder and rested the head of it on the sandbags and aimed. The ammo carrier then carefully placed a frag rocket into the back of the barrel and closed up behind it. Now ready to fire, the weapons carrier squeezed the trigger and open fired.
The rocket twirled across the battlefield and struck into an alley corner exploding against the brick wall structure, blowing rubble and traitors off their feet. Even though the weapon failed to take any traitor’s lives, they realised how outmatched they were with the enemy’s firepower, positions and the enraged short commissar they had and begun to disperse.
Seeing the traitors fall back, a cheer was brought up by the defending infantry squad and proud they had held the line somewhat easily, shooting after the chaos cultists with las fire and insults. When they were too lost in glory, none of them heeded when Commissar Ratling called out. “Look out!”
A barrage of explosive rapid fire hit into the Whosville infantry squad and more than half of them were knocked back with chunks of armour and flesh torn from them and splattered into the ground like piles of butchered meat. Some shots had just missed, but Commissar Ratling had shifted his weight into barrelling against some of the guardsmen to get down.
Once the torrent of fire had halted for the moment, the guardsmen could not believe the level of damage it had caused. Zerk and his platoon were even caught off guard, even with the lieutenant’s auspex. The range it was fired from could have only been made up by the accuracy and the heavy rounds they shot out.
Making a brief check of casualty count, Commissar Ratling had noted that both infantry squads had been halved strength all together and both sergeants had been obliterated. There was even the savouring view of sergeant Gif lying dead, a shot had hit against his shoulder and ripped out half his chest and neck. The Emperor indeed didn’t take pity on those who disrespected those who asserted his authority.
Once the casualty count had been confirmed, Commissar Ratling then gently peered his head over the sandbags to spot the enemy. They approached the Whosville lines patiently, taking each step at a time with ponderous foot-thuds bring fear in their wake, bolters were held at their hips ready to slaughter more and the mere fact at how their helmet’s faces were shaped showed they had no emotions or any selfish regret in their lives.
Giving a displeased snarl at the accursed scum, Commissar Ratling could plain see it was the chaos space marines known as the Thousand sons. Unable to stand the sight of them, Commissar Ratling cried out slashing his sword towards them. “Fire!” There was no response though and Commissar Ratling looked down at the squad returning ‘you meaning us?’ looks. Outraged at their response, Ratling tried again, but dragging one of them off his backside and yelling “Fire I said!”
Feeling the anger of the Commissar at them, the squad infantry heaved the arms and rifles over the sandbags and started giving a fusillade of shots into the enemy. However the fire was proving quite ineffective, not just because of the long range they were at, but their power armour was able to easily deflect the shots aside and didn’t cause the chaos to be budged back even the slightest.
When the blue, golden robbed chaos space marines got closer into the hail of fire and the las shots were becoming more frequent, their squad leader, otherwise known as an aspiring whose helmet face was painted completely, raised his staff above him. Purple crackling energy formed around the staff at first, but soon the energy enlarged and was now swimming and dancing around the chaos space marines who ignored the kinetic lightening dance displayed around them.
Lasfire continued to be fire at the pondering metal giants, but their shots were seared when got caught by one of the energy storm spinning, that only half their lasfire were hitting against the space marines armour, but this was proving no use now. Feeling how grim this was getting by the minute, Commissar Ratling gritted his teeth to control himself and then snapped to the men. “What’s the missile launch team doing!”
The Commissar had failed to notice that the weapons carrier had been hit back by the early firepower that had smashed against the sandbag he was behind and his shoulder had been bruised as a result. The team then agreed to switch places, but it was proving difficult for the ex-fire carrier to fit in a krak missile they had planned for the chaos space marines.
Finally loading it up, the ex-ammo carrier squeezed the trigger. The missile swirled out from its chamber and went zooming directly at the chaos space marines. However with the barrier still up, the psychic energy lashed out at the missile and caused it to explode already before it could do any real damage near the chaos space marines.
Thinking the imperial guards had a long enough go at trying to penetrate them and already covering half their distance since their arrival, the thousand sons open up with a second volley. Without any real warning from the Chaos space marines movement however, another quarter of the guardsmen number were brushed off before they could get down.
Even though the so-called lucky ones who had survived due to their more responsive nerves were becoming overwhelmed at such odds they were facing. The enemies bolt ammunition had actually flown through their barrier unaffected. Panic spread about the small remaining ranks and some tried to run for it, but even though the Commissar’s arm reach was short his bolt pistol wasn’t and added two to the casualties showing there was no way out of this.
With only about six men, plus the heavy weapons team and himself to hold off a squad of six traitor Astartes, Commissar Ratling was beginning to falter that the enemy. But then appearing beside him behind the sandbag wall, Zerk had hissed to the Commissar. “Ratling, from what my auspex can tell me, that accursed field of theirs doesn’t affect artificial life forms that come into contact with it, so what me and my retinue are going to try and do is go along side the buildings and try and spring on the chaos flanks-.”
“You can’t!” Barked Commissar Ratling cutting the Lieutenant off. “These are traitor Astartes, they won’t give you any chance.”
“Perhaps.” Gulped Zerk trying to admit it. “But it’s only so we can stand a fighting chance by taking out the one giving them that field, soon as we take him out or atleast that staff by my guessing, we’ll be able to atleast use the missile launcher to some affect.”
There was truth to what Zerk said, if Zerk could atleast take out the aspiring and then take out another chaos Astarte with a krak missile that will have taken down to hard ass tin cans, which would give some overall effect. “Fine!” Caved in Commissar Ratling. “But atleast let me come with you.”
“No, you’re the only one holding the lines!” Opposed Zerk. “You’re the only one here from keeping the men falling apart, after all if we die; who’s to make sure it’s not in vein?”
The only respond that Commissar could give back to that was a deep growl. But rather than wait for a proper agreement, Zerk leapt off to where his men were waiting with backs against the wall of the building they agreed they would enter through. At his disposal there was Zerk’s command vox caster, two bodyguards and Huskar who were ready to do this suicidal task.
When Zeron had met back up, he made a quick nod to them eager to get this over with. Nodding in return, one of his bodyguards shoulder rammed against the house door flinging it open and the five rushed through. They entered what use to be a small corridor room that the team hastily raced through up to the other end.
There had been signs of an indoor skirmish, probably an early attempt from the cultists who tried to get pass the first company that had denied them by sneaking through the urban homes. Still though not taking too much time to observe how fancy this place had been, they had reach up to the next door and quickly clicked it open. They had entered a bathroom, which had a window for them to exit out of.
Calculating they didn’t have long until the Thousand sons passed, the guardsmen hastily forced open the window have failing to realise the reason it was locked was because of a latch. Climbing through one by one they then entered the alley way they estimated the chaos space marines would pass through and indeed they were right.
Zerk’s command platoon could see the full spray of shots across the street, but knew the chaos space marines would be passing soon. “Are you sure we’ll be able to get through that field of theirs?” Questioned Huskar only just now.
“No not really, but the reason I suspect the psychic field only harm hostile projectiles is because the incoming speed and heat, due to how I saw the psychic energy grow more intense on my auspex before the krak missile hit into it.” Confessed Zerk. “But we have to try; shoting hasn’t been working for us so far now has it, but get the frags ready.”
Just as though they were on cue, the Chaos space marines pondered down the street towards the Imperial guard line, unnoticeably showing their flank to Zerk’s command platoon. It was hard to see Zerk’s main target as the aspiring was follow closely by his retinue who tightly packed around him in a semi-circle like formation. However Zerk didn’t want to lose the opportunity he had in front of him. “Now!”
Un-pouching their grenades, the guardsmen chucked their frags into the side of the chaos space marines. It seemed as though the chaos expected their psychic shield to protect them, but Zerk had been right about his theory. The psychic energy failed to detect the hostility that Zerk described and the grenade passed through unscathed and thumped against the thousand sons’ armour and caused a shrapnel explosion.
Dashing in fast before the smoke cleared, Zerk had held out his right hand wielding a bolt pistol that fired at close range at the side of a chaos space marine’s helmet. This time the field failed to detect the threat being that Zerk was underneath it and the traitor’s head was blasted clean off by such ferocious power.
The rest of Zerk’s command locked up with the other Thousand sons, that left the two commanders to go at it.
When the smoke began to clear up more, Zerk could see with both his eyes the chaos aspiring slowly craning his head towards him and Zerk knew he was just being an annoyance to him at the minute. Not caring though how the fell being thought of him at the moment, the chainsword whirled to life in his grasp and Zerk rushed forward to challenge him.
At first Zerk didn’t think the Tzeentch champion was going to react, but pulling his right arm out from all the smoke, he aimed out his bolt pistol and fired. There was no way to dodge the shoots and so Zerk was hit three times. Once in the in his side causing him to stumble back, a second in the shoulder that forced Zerk to drop his weapons and zap his nerves and then a third in the cheek that caused the Lieutenant to fumble back into the ground.
While their leader had fallen, the other retinue continued trying to fight back against the fallen Astartes, but the club of their gun’s butts and the stab of their bayonets proved futile against the chaos power armour. One by one the imperial guard were being brought down the smashes of the thousand son’s supreme strength or point blank fire.
Huskar had even attempted lancing his standard out with a mighty warcry at one of the traitor space marines hoping the Emperor to guide it through him. Unhearing the prayer though, the flag pole only thudded against the hated Astarte and barely tapped it back. At first the chaos space marine attempted to snatch the flag pole, but Huskar had managed to keep holding onto it, so what the chaos space marine did instead was lift up his bolter instead and discharge his ammo against the stubborn Imperial guard.
When the last of Zerk’s command had been torn apart by bolt fire, Zerk was beginning to actually get up miraculously soon as he realised he was alive. The shot at his left shoulder and stomach had luckily been absorbed enough by his flak armour before being penetrated through and probably by the Emperor’s mercy, though most his nerves had been damaged and could feel plenty of pain and nausea. As for the head shot, the bullet had instead tore through his helmets cheek and only grazed his own flesh.
Not putting the miracle to waste though, the lieutenant noticed the aspiring knew he was still alive and titled his golden helmet as he was amused at how he was trying to keep fighting. Showing that he wasn’t only trying though, Zerk had flickered his remaining strength with his working right arm to grasped his bolt pistol that wasn’t too far from him. While Zerk fell to his side, he aimed out his pistol and prayed to the Emperor firing the magazine up at the Aspiring.
Before the Thousand son could react even with his enhanced body, he was unable to avoid the bullet that went spinning and speared right against his staff. In an instance the psychic generator was completely blown apart and the Thousand son aspiring was almost knocked back from the explosion it caused against him.
Just when the chaos space marines were about to make Zerk pay for that, the Whosville guardsmen reacted before they could and had fired the krak missile they had prepared. This time, with no barrier to defend them, the missile torpedoed into one of the vulnerable Chaos space marines, blowing up the golden blue warrior to bits.
When the aspiring was distracted again, Zerk had used the time to call up more strength and cry out. “The Emperor’s will shall be done!” And Zerk hefted his biting chainsword onto the right side of the sorcerer’s collarbone that started tearing into his armour, after dropping his bolter for it. Even with such little strength left Zerk was managing to cut through into the Thousand son’s armour until he began to gut through into his flesh.
Actually feeling the terror of fear as the mortal was gushing his blood out and ripping his enhance bones, the aspiring attempted to grasp Zerk off him with what strength he had of his own. Seeing the arm about to reach for him, Zerk yelled. “And shall not be denied!” Slamming his shoulder against back of the blade knocking the two off their feet and piling into the ground.
The chaos space marine’s armour and ribcage then split open like a lobster being ripped open by hands as the chainsword began to redouble its effects. After five seconds Zerk had relaxed when he realised the chainsaw was no longer working after cutting through all that hard steel and meat and that the Aspiring was now utterly dead.
Rolling off the Aspiring’s carcass and falling onto his back, Zerk had spotted another krak missile fly above his head and probably took out another chaos space marine. There were the yelling sounds of orders as Commissar Ratling were most likely ordering to charge now with only two chaos space marines left, sure his power sword could take out the them.
Feeling now his debt to Oskarus had been paid and the victory won here, Zerk felt able to smile and whisper out. “Sorry I didn’t do it on my own Father, but the Emperor does protect.” And like that Zerk closed his eyes.
About to fall into a deep sleep he was suddenly shook by his shoulders. “Don’t die on us Lieutenant!”
Giving out a wild ouch! Zerk could see it was Commissar Ratling rattling him. “I wasn’t planning on it!”
Seeing he was in pain which meant he was going to live, the Commissar stood up knelt upstraight, a bit embarrassed, but was streaked in blood showing he had took care of the traitors. “Well rest easy then Lieutenant, Major-Politician will need a brief?”
“Alright.” Responded Zerk smiling a bit more again and then completely fading out.