Another story post here, this is the first few parts of a background fluff kind of story i was doing for my IG army years ago, i have posted this on Wip (as conclave) and Deviantart (as Melsaphim) like all my other works. I hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it,
Feyer swore. The ramshackle plasteel wall shuddered against his back as he crouched against it, bullets creating small dent on the inside face of the wall as they slammed against the outer facing. Chips of Plasteel flew through the air as more and more shots peppered the wall. Feyer heard the tell tale thud of a sniper rifle firing and dropped to his left instantly. Slamming hard into the floor beneath him, as a hole appeared in the Plasteel wall where the high powered projectile fired by the sniper rifle had sheared through the simple sheeting. He swore again. Looking around for a weapon he noticed an autogun laying a few feet away from him. The weapon appeared abandoned and Feyer thought for a moment that maybe it was out of ammo, but he soon dismissed that idea. Only a few centimetres away from the gun lay the trooper Feyer guessed it had once belonged to. Not that he had any use for it anymore. The trooper lay flat on the floor, a pool of blood staining the floor beneath him crimson as it flowed from his body. A large crater in the chest of the trooper assured Feyer he was dead. A bolter detonation within the ribcage was a messy way to die but at least it was quick and simple. Unlike a las-shot. Feyer had seen one of his squad shot through the chest with a las-rifle days before. The searing hot shot instantly cauterising the wound. The trooper had fallen, a gaping hole shorn straight threw his lung. 3 hours later he had died.
Feyer moved slowly, afraid to attract attention from the sniper that had shot at him moments before. Crouching over the body of the fallen trooper Feyer quickly made an aquila with his fingers before grabbing the rifle and ducking back into cover. There was no time to properly mourn the losses of fallen comrades. The simple gesture would was all Feyer could spare. Feyer ducked back behind the wall as another hail of shots caused the plasteel to shake alarmingly as rounds impacted against the plasteel. Gripping the autogun in his hands Feyer noticed the gun seemed wet under his fingers. Moving the weapon into the light he noticed that the stock and grip were covered in blood. The crimson stain now duplicated upon his hands. For a moment revulsion swallowed Feyer and threatened to make him drop the weapon in disgust. But then his mind re-asserted itself and he gripped the weapon once more. He waited until the shots against the wall stopped. The enemy were no doubt moving closer to his lines. Advancing forwards as those troopers behind the walls had their head down. Feyer was just about to stand and fire over the wall when another hail of rounds impacted against it. Feyer swore again.
"Alright sarge, I thought you could do with a hand down here." Feyer spun. Startled by the sudden appearance of one of his squad. Sila had her ever present grin with her, though Feyer couldn't see how any of this was amusing. Feyer wondered if the trooper actually enjoyed war and bloodshed, or if she simply found everything in life amusing. He would have to ask her sometime.
"They sure are tricky bastards aren't they" Feyer looked down to the whole where the sniper rifle shot had torn through the plasteel wall. Missing him by mere inches and nearly ending his life. Another shot echoed as it connected with the wall behind Feyer and he flinched as a crater appeared next to him. He wished they had had more time to build proper defences but the wall had been put up in a couple of hours, where as a ceramite one would have taken days if not weeks. The wall had provided cover though. And had prevent shots from breaching it. Except for the sniper rounds of course. Sila dropped heavily against him and Feyer noticed the bulk of a heavy weapon slung over her shoulder. Sila noticed Feyer looking at the weapon and patted it as if it were a pet:
"Like i said sarge. I thought you could use a little help down here" Sila's grin spread from one side of her face to the other as she shifted the weapon off her shoulder and placed it across her knees in front of her. Feyer smiled as well:
"And what help is a Grenade Launcher going to be without any ammunition to use with it" He asked. Noticing the empty cartridge on the weapon and the lack of any grenades attached to Sila's body. Sila just smiled as always and Feyer began to imagine if she had totally lost her mind.
"I think I can help you out there sarge." Feyer nearly jumped out of his skin as Hawkin appeared beside him. The trooper noticed the reaction of his sergeant and laughed. Feyer looked coldly at the trooper. He didn’t find it amusing. Hawkins sat next to Feyer, shifting a belt of grenades that hung around his chest so he could rest his back against the wall. Hawkins suddenly jumped as shots impacted against the wall causing it to shake violently against his back. Feyer looked at the bewildered look on Hawkin's face and Didn’t try to hide his amusement at the troopers obvious discomfort.
"I don’t know about them out there killing me" Said Feyer a grin appearing on his face. "But you two emperor lover Frakkers certainly will". Feyer suddenly turned sombre. His gaze drifting to the body of the fallen troopers around him. Now was not the time to joke around. The had a war to win.
Feyer motioned to Hawkin who unstrapped the grenades from around his chest and handed them to his sergeant. Feyer grabbed the offered grenades. A belt holding about 16 of the small explosives. Each one capable of tearing through a plasteel wall or a rank of troopers. Feyer silently thanked the emperor that the enemy didn't have any. Or his job would have been a lot messier. And most probably shorter. Feyer handed the belt to Sila who was still smiling as she began loading the grenades, one at a time, into the cartridge of the launcher resting on her knees. Humming a simple tune as she did so. Silas clipped the cartridge into place as she placed the half empty belt onto the floor beside her. slowly hefting the weapon in her hands she smiled broadly. A look of pure delight on her face as she looked at Feyer:
"Lets send those bloody heretics right back to whatever hell hole they were spawned from." She spat as she stood. And began firing over the wall into the enemy lines. The click of the cartridge as it spun around and the whine of the grenades as they flew filling the air around them. Hawkin slapped Feyer on the shoulder and stood to join Sila. The definitive kick of his bolter joining the cacophony of noise from Sila's grenades. Feyer couldn't see any point in wasting time. And jumped to his feet also firing his autogun as he did so.
The enemy hadn't been expecting any kind of resistance and as Feyer stood he could see bodies being flung through the air as the grenades went off. A series of explosions tore through the cover the enemy were hiding behind. Plumes of rock and dirt sprouting into the air as the explosive rounds detonated amongst them. Feyer continued firing. The thud of his autogun joining the other weapons as they fired. Sila had dropped her grenade launcher now. The cartridge spent and not wanting to waste time reloading. She had drawn her las pistol and was firing well placed shots into the enemy. Feyer smiled as he fired....
Feyer’s smile soon fled his face. The bodies. The bodies of those he was shooting at. They weren’t the bodies of chaos cultists like he had been led to believe he was facing by high command. They were his men. His own troopers were being torn asunder by his own fire. Feyer watched in horror as he began to recognise the troopers he and his two guardsmen were firing at. Trooper Grell, one of Feyer’s old squad from 5th platoon was lifted up from the ground and flung backwards as one of the grenades fired by Sila ruptured the rock he had been sheltering behind. His corpse was soon punctured by two more hits as Sila finished the job her grenades had begun.
Then trooper Hock, trooper Higgins. Both stood and were duly torn down in a shower of fire from Hawkins. Hawkins let out a whoop of joy at the kill turning to face Feyer with a huge smile on his face. Feyer stood in mute horror. He couldn’t believe it. His own men slaughtering each other and relishing in the joys of a kill. Didn’t they know those kills were of their own troopers. Men and women that they’d only been dining with and playing cards with the night before.
“Stop firing! Stop frakking firing you Gaks!” Feyer dropped back down behind the plasteel wall and grabbed Sila by her flak jacket till she fell down beside him in the dirt. She turned her ever present smile hidden under layers of dirt and blood, only a thin white line of teeth showing its presence.
“What the Gak for sir if you don’t at all mind me asking.” Sila’s ever persisting cockiness showed through even in the heat of battle and Feyer marvelled at the fact. Here sat a young girl, No more than twenty years if he had to guess, in the middle of fighting for her life and she could still manage to be cocky to her superiors. Then again Feyer supposed. That’s why he liked her. But he didn’t have time for anything like that now.
“’Cos we’re shooting our own. That’s 2nd platoon down there.” Feyer turned as Hawkin fell in beside the two of them. “Those two so called cultist you just shot down Hawkins, were Hock and Higgins. So wipe that frakking smile of your face. You just killed our own men you Gak!” Feyer spat the last words at Hawkin and the trooper soon turned solemn.
“But sir.” Begged Hawkin. “They were firing at us first. They took us by surprise remember!” Hawkin motioned his hand around the camp they were sat on the outskirts of. Burning buildings and ammo canisters punctuated the littered bodies that lay broken upon the floor. The dirt turned a crimson stain from the blood of guardsmen slaughtered where they stood. “They blew out the gate and came marching in.” Hawkin now pointed at the ruined gate that had once allowed entrance into the camp. Nothing more than a ruined husk now that the enemy concussion charges had blown a hole through it. A rapid defence from the guardsmen within had thrown the attackers back from the camp and into the ruined wasteland beyond. Feyer had only just woken when the attack had begun and had soon found himself at the plasteel wall surrounding the camp.
“But they’re our men. I swear that’s 2nd platoon down there!” Feyer shook as he tried to justify what he had seen. High command had told them it was chaos cultists attacking the camp. A small faction of ruinous heretics from a nearby village. But he had seen imperial guardsmen. They were the ones firing upon the camp. And the sniper that had fired at him moments before. No chaos cultists would have a sniper rifle at hand. It must be second platoon. That would explain the suddenness of the attack. The ease with which they tore through the camp’s defences. The timing. It all made sense now. This was not a bunch of chaos heretics they were facing. But a highly trained platoon of imperial guardsmen. But why…………
The reasons never managed to form in Feyer’s mind. Shots resumed against the plasteel wall behind Feyer, Sila and Hawkin as the enemy recovered from their assault. A stub round punched through the wall next to Sila and shards of shrapnel from the blast tore through her left arm. Screaming she stood, Her ever present smile replaced by anger as she fired shot after shot back at the enemy, paying no attention to the shots whizzing around her head as she stood there in the open.
Feyer fell to the ground as more shots tore through the wall behind him. One cut through his shoulder, the wound cauterising instantly with the heat of a las shot. A second shot tore through the meat of his right thigh dropping him even further into the trench as he scrambled to cover the wound. Unlike the first shot this one had been fired from a stub gun and the wound hadn’t cauterised on contact. Blood poured from his leg as Feyer struggled in vain to cut of the blood flow with gauss strips from his belt pouches.
Sila dropped her face exploding from repeated stub rounds. Blood and viscera covered Hawkin as he scrambled to find cover from the withering fire. Cowering like a trapped animal behind several overturned fuel cans he huddled, whimpering as blood dripped off of him. None of it his own.
“Get away from those fuel tanks you Gak!” screamed Feyer but it was too late fro Hawkin to hear. A las round struck the rear of the exposed tanks as Hawkin turned to look at Feyer. The tanks exploded in a rush of liquid promethium. The flames instantly swallowing Hawkin as he sat. Feyer looked away. Hawkins ran screaming from the inferno into the enemy. His flak armour melting off him as the temperature of the flames rose to considerable levels. A las shot punctured his chest and dropped him yards from where the enemy stood. A howl of delight followed by the sounds of more fire as the cultists fired shot after shot into the still burning remains of Hawkin, echoed across the camp. Feyer shuddered as the sounds tore through him.
Then another sound. A closer sound. Boots thundering across the ground. Feyer turned and looked up as one of the cultists appeared atop the plasteel wall. Finally Feyer had a chance to see the enemy up close, and he had been right. The uniform of an imperial guardsmen hung form the cultists body. The markings of 2nd platoon hastily covered up with chaotic runes that made feyer sick to his stomach to gaze at. The armour had been covered in red, whether it was paint or blood Feyer couldn’t tell, and he didn’t want to find out. The fatigues underneath were worn and tattered, holes showing pale flesh underneath. But more nauseating than all this was the face. No longer a human face but a ruin of scars and tattoos. Feyer could no more recognise the former trooper before him than he would have been able to recognise Sila after the mess of her death.
But Feyer didn’t have enough time to try and recognise the cultist before him. With a primal scream it leapt at him. Pulling an elongated knife from the recesses of its belt and slashing it violently in the air before him. Feyer ducked the blade, taking a cut along the length of his arm as he fell to the floor once more. Lifting himself up from the floor Feyer drove his own blade, hastily drawn from his own belt, into the stomach of the cultist. The heretical guardsmen stopped and looked down at the long silver knife stuck in his gut and smiled.
Feyer lifted with all his strength and threw the cultist backwards into the bottom of the plasteel wall behind him. Shattering supports and tearing through the wall itself. The cultist continued to roll across the ground into the enemy who were charging up the hill behind him. Feyer was about to stand when the plasteel wall itself began to fall inwards on top of him. Diving into the trench he landed hard as the wall crashed atop of him. Boots came thundering across the ground and over the wall totally oblivious to the body beneath it. All went black as Feyer passed out from his wounds………..
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