The Commissars stomach rebels just as much as everyone elses - however his dignity as a Commissar of his majesty won't allow his body such a response - and an iron will overrides the reflex after a moment that feels like an eternity. He spends the rest of the bumpy ride gritting his teeth and gripping the next stanchion with an iron grip - literally - to keep himself from showing any signs of discomfort.
As the ramp finally clamps down it takes a few moments for Yetas heart rate to return to normal and his stomach to settle. By the time he has himself under control and is ready to reign in the Troopers Father Bolus has already done so - shaming the Commissar if he was anything but a Priest, proxy to his divine majesties will.
So he just makes his presence known by setting the glow of his augmetic eye to full burn, letting a red light sweep the stil dark inside of the downed lander and funnels their order into a military formation
"Front row crouching position! Second row fire support! Front row moves to the next cover then provides fire support for the second row! Your best chance to survive is the gun in your hand! Make it count! Tactical Advance!"
And with that the Lander will hopefully slowly empty out to let the Commissar get a proper sight of the enemy he intends to crush.
The reaction of the troopers to the shouted prayer-commands of the priest in their midst is near instantaneous and most satisfying.
Within moments, squads have assembled in neat clusters and march out after the Chimeras in ordered rows - despite several troopers going down to random ricochets.
The volume of gun reports outside increases rapidly as half a dozen Chimera APC open up with their guns and the first squads of guardsman add their firepower as well.
Someone had the idea of popping smoke grenades, several handful judging from the thick of the billowing smoke.
Soon enough, the troop compartment is pretty much empty and your turn comes at last.
Sgt. Anderson gives the signal to move out and talks over the squad combead:
"Aaaalright, lads, lazy-time's up.
Forward observers report two fortified positions atop two hills.
One to the north and one to the east of our position.
Nasty place to come down, right into their crossfire.
Hill-N01, as we now call the northern position, has sizeable AA batteries.
Those frakkers probably are at fault for our hard landing.
We've got word from the Captain.
He wants us to get rid of those AA batteries and any traitor on that hilltop.
Hill-E01 is going to be our secondary target - albeit a thorny one.
We've got to cross half a click of shelled out wasteland to the foot of Hill-N01, then a nasty 200 meter walk up a steep hill.
That ain't gonna be pretty but we need to be with the front ranks to blast a hole through their defenses."
While the Sgt. is still relaying your orders, you take your first steps onto the blasted soil of yet another war torn world.
It smells like ash, sulfur and fyciline.
The ground is a dark grey and littered with chunks of black stone varying in size from pepple to boulder, making you think of the volcano islands back home.
The ash waste goes on for as far as you can see (which isn't far with all the smoke and dust in the air) and the only landmarks in sight are two low hilltops.
Atop both sit the ugly but familiar shapes of prefab bunkers and low watchtowers.
Stroboscopic muzzle flashes highlight gun nests firing at the lander - and by extension you!
From one of the two hilltops rise up long lines of tracer fire into the purple-grey sky, the trademark sign of busy AA batteries.
Sizzle's mind and eyes immediately and reflexively scan for any machine gun nests and the structure of those watch towers to see if he can't make their walk a little nicer with a preliminary rocket.
But the dust and smoke are just too much from here.
Sir, I have a frag in the tube. If I can get to a cleaner line of fire I might be able to take out one of those watch towers or something else at your discression, sir! Sizzle reports.
"Keep it there, Trooper.
Chances for a frag to penetrate a bunker are too low.
But it could come in handy once we are close enough to charge.
A nice big blast of hot shrapnel is a good incentive to keep ones head low for a bit.
Everyone: get behind cover of that Chimera, go-go-go!"
Sizzle nods and sprints to cover on order.
"Standing by to light up the life of the enemy sarge. After all, the credo says "Burn the heretic" eh?"
Asbjörn winks at Anderson as he hoist is flamer.
"And if you need more firepower, me and my fellow breacher are ready to oblige."
When they're together in cover again, Sizzle informs the Sarge, If you can think of a creative use for them I have a Scatter and a Minefield Type here too Oh, and I got three Kracks, not just one.
Anderson gravely nods at Asbjörns remark.
"From the looks of it, we will need both."
Hella grins evilly and responds with a cocky tone:
"So the father preaches.
But, you would have to be quick on your stocky legs to get to them before Berta", she caresses her stubber meaningfully, " and I turn them to Alminger cheese."
Alm is a mountainous region in the northern hemisphere of Serenus known for its grox cheese - which has lots and lots of holes in it.
At Sizzles remark, the Sgt. actually winces and smirks.
"Remind me to abhor the habit of sticking around the general vicinity of any of you breachers."
Then turns serious.
"I say load a krak now.
A can opener opening followed by a frag for the main menu sounds like a proper chance to disable one of those bunkers - once we find you a good spot to line up the shots."
Slowly, the squadron gets into motion.
The armored chimeras in a rotated L-formation and acting as shields against the fire from both hills, with the infantry advancing squad wise in between.
The ground is treacherous and more than once you see troopers stumble over loose rocks.
For the first half of the way the tactic works decently well.
The small arms brought to bear against your formation being unable to cause danger to the thick armor of the APCs.
Which reduces the fire you take to the occasional stray ricochet bullet.
Sizzle smiles and swaps out his payload with practiced ease. On your word, Sarge!
Bolus falls into place at the right hand of the Commissar as they move out, keeping an eye on any laggard soldier that might need another berating. The Emperor demanded eternal vigilance!
Bolus does indeed notice a troopers visibly sticking closer to the chimeras than everyone else and seems quite far apart from any other squad nearby.
The trooper has a very youthful appearance and a undignified mixture of ex-breakfast and blood splattered over the front of his uniform.
The Troops are well in hand of the Sergeant. For now. Better to keep an eye on those he can't while leading from the front.
Thus the Commissar strides confidently and upright at the back of the squad - keeping an eye on everyone and the situation with the best weapons known to the imperium at his command: The iconic bolt pistol, his own strength and most importantly the Father, holy man and viscous fighter in his own right.
However seeing the upcomming terrain of dead treestumps to the left and muddy ground to the right he shifts to the left side and keeps an eye on the trees - ready to countercharge any enemy that might hide there.
They are heretical scum but to be pushed back into the mud from an ambush here is such a basic defensive tactic. No good comes from leaving the opportunity.
Soon enough though - way too soon for comfort - the enemy has repositioned its heavier weapons.
Mortar shells start falling, first quite off target but quickly getting closer.
The low *DUT-DUT-DUT* of heavy autocannons mix in with the faster sound of stubbers and the produced impacts leave major impact marks on the armor of various chimeras.
White trails announce rockets being fired against the chimeras.
One of the lead vehicles shakes under a triple impact then stops and the crew is rushing out seconds before the tank detonates.
Your combeads click multiple times - a sign that someone is using an overwrite code to send on multiple channels at once.
"Split up!
Three groups.
Prong attack.
Stick to the chimera closest to you.
Drivers: execute pattern Terra-Phi-Alpha.
Emprah protects!"
That was undoubtedly the voice of Cpt. Knutr.
Near instantaneous, the chimera next to you veers to the right.
A long salvo of mortar fire approaches the column from dead ahead but clearly the enemy overestimated your speed and the salvo falls short.
After you left the main force, you take considerably less fire and make good progress, when suddenly a deafening warcry rises over the dim of battle and a mob of thirty or so humanoid figures appear on the lower end of the hill slope and charge towards your small formation.
All of them brandish wicked looking melee weapons ranging from clubs to chainaxes and some appear to be carrying lances with huge tips.
How they came within 50 meter without being spotted remains a mystery for the time being.
Sizzle, being both a man fresh from fighting orks and a man who likes to solve his problems from a distance, has his lasgun up and firing in less than a second. He's on full auto, but not overcharged.
Deftly controlled shots jump out at at chest height with lethal accuracy.
Following his brothers example, Asbjörn also switches to the lasgun for now. The enemy were too far away for either flamer or plasma anyway.
Before battle is joined Bolus snorts and breaks formation just for a moment
He claps the young trooper on the shoulder. Cowardice will NOT be forgiven by the Emperor, however he upon the throne allows us to redeem ourselves. March alongside me and I will teach you hymns that will buttress your spirit and make you a worthy soldier under his gaze.
Bolus did not remember being young, but giving and correction was a part of his nature. Only to a point however, his grip tightened.
If you do not, then you will find me to be far more terrible than any foe you are likely to face on the battlefield.
Once the fighting starts Bolus moves to cover and readies his flamer to shoot a crossfire of flame on the madmen with Asbjorn, as soon as they come into range.
Yeta notices the Father leave his side and checks his destination. Seeing the trooper he nods in appreciation - but staying behind the group on the left side, leaving a free field of fire but ready to step in.
As the horde of heretics come into view the sides of his lips twitch. Once. They are late. Even more cowardly than expected.
He addresses the Troops.
"Enemies to the left! Keep moving as commanded until your Sergeant tells you otherwise! But be ready for the word!"
*** Talking to a survivor ***
Recognition dawn in the eyes of the trooper and he visibly struggles to get a grasp on himself.
"They ... they're all gone, father.
My ... my entire squad.
They were ... just erased by ...
... by that defense laser beam.
Gone, without a chance to pray or prepare.
Gone, without leaving bodies to bury and consecrate.
Simply ... gone..."
*** Shoot the heretic! ***
Keeping in formation and moving, while shooting is not an easy task and a many shots go awry, but many more find the tightly packed enemy.
The multilaser atop the chimera open up on the enemy but the salvo is horribly off target as the tank rumbles over the uneven terrain.
The Breacherbrothers are having a good'ol time though, Sizzle especially, and score half a dozen hits - plus change.
Several targets go down, but many more press on, some despite horrible burn marks in their upper bodies.
The onrush continues, fully ignoring the pinning fire thrown at them.
30 meter.
20-some enemies remaining.
Their appearance starts to register in your brains.
They all are massive men with bulging muscles and complete madness written all over their faces.
Spittle and sickly red foam drip from their mouths and some bear the stigma of mutation openly: a horn, a third eye, a pincer-tipped tail, some with scales.
Anderson shouts over the sound of las fire, clearly worried about the speed of the enemies approach.
"Halt - fire for effect!
Prepare for the odd straggler reaching the line.
Fix bayonets!"
"Come on short stuff, let's see you do that again!
These a@!*+!!s can shed their own damn blood, 'cause they aren't getting ours!"
"Hey short stuff, something is off with your gun, you may not want to fire it again right now."
Sizzle fixes his bayonette. You think now is a time not to fire?
The bayonette slams home with a click. He takes a quick snap shot at the onrushing horde.
His shot is good! The bolt sears into one of the many legs coming at them.
By the Throne they're closing fast!
"Meh, just saying, us breachers always have other options.
Besides, losing an arm because your gun wasn't in the mood isn't much fun, almost happened to me already, remember?"
This time it is Asbjörn who manages a near-perfect salvo and downs two, hitting two more who keep coming despite the wounds.
Sizzle manages to remove the kneecap from one enemy, disabling him for good (someone has to finish him eventually though).
**Before the shooting**
If they had time Bolus would have had a good long sit down with the trooper but as they don't Bolus grabs him by the shoulder and looks him straight in the eye for but a moment.
To Die in the Name of the Emperor is the Greatest of consecrations. With their lives they bought You and I the chance to tread on the assaulted soil of His world, So we may bring it back to his Light. Will you Sully their Sacrifice with Cowardice, Or Honour them with the Bravery you have been given the opportunity to show? Your squad are already at the right hand of the Master of Mankind, looking down upon you. Do Not Let them Find you wanting. Come with Me and Fire as I Fire. Bring the Emperor's vengeance on the murderers of your squad.
**Shooting**
Seeing the horrific perversions of humanity hurtling towards them Bolus' lips peel back into a sneer.
Spurn Chaos with the holiest of flame! Spurn Chaos with the wrath of the God EmPEROR!
He sprays as many as possible from his line of fire as soon as they come into range but in the chaos most of the spray ends up missing.
*** Bolus' Recruiting Spree Continues ***
The eyes of the young man regain focus and his back stiffens visibly.
"Aye, father, thy will be done.
Command those unworthy hands of mine for the glory of HE on Terra."
He offers you his lasgun with both hands, while kneeling in front of you.
Bolus graps the gun firmly with one hand before returning it to him and then rasing him up by his shoulders. For the Emperor, and for your squad. Come and fire as I fire. Bring their wrath and vengeance and return unto them a hundred fold what they dared to do to us.
**Follower get!**
> 18
With the mob coming ever closer, the small formation opens fire with renewed fury. The blazing stakkato from the Chimeras multilaser cuts a smoking path through the ranks of the lunatics, removing three of their number from existence.
Hella has finally planted her heavy stubber against the Chimera and opens up, cheesing two of the hulks.
Anderson misses a shot from his laspistol and raises the whirring chainsword in a defiant gesture.
The Commissar is shooting more for show than effect but the newest squad addition (under Bolus' personal care), who goes by the name of 'Thommaz', scores a neat headshot against a brightly burning hulk, finishing the priests work quickly.
Anatoly seems too occupied readying his close combat protocols than to score proper kills from afar and misses with a trio of lasbolts.
When all is said and shot, a full double handful of crazed targets remain on their feet, some of them wounded some as of yet unharmed.
Despite the horrific losses, the lunatics continue their wild charge, their warcries getting louder with every step until you can positively feel your eyeballs reverberate to their growling.
Anderson shouts the pretty obvious warning:
"Here they come, prepare for the charge!"
And indeed the charge comes.
At least partially.
Three of the enemies number easily outrun their peers on heavy hooved feet that crush the volcanic stone underneath to dust, the remaining mob has still some ten meters before reaching the group.
The first has one of those long lances with the massive tips and rushes straight towards the Chimera, obviously dead-set on piercing the armored vehicle. The lance strike the massive target and a powerful explosion provides ample explanation why the lancetip was so huge: it had an impact charge tapped to the front. The multilaser stops its heavy fire - at least momentarily.
The second, wielding a chainaxe with both heavily muscled hands, has picked out the widely visible uniform of a Commissar and charges Yeta. The swing is not particularly precise but neither is the Commissar known for a nimble fighter keen to defend himself, so the strikes hit the Commissar's left (augmentic) leg, right at the mechanical knee joint, causing sparks, cable and metal pieces to fly .
The third one, a blood-stained bearded fellow wearing nothing but a club with rusty nails, seems to have singled out the formations commander and rushes Anderson, but the Sergeant is able to deflect the descending club with his chainsword with practiced ease.
"Well, looks like they are coming to greet us, let's return the warm welcome shall we?"
Letting his lasgung hang from it's strap, Asbjörn once more brings out the flamer.
with practiced hands, he adjust the nozzle to the wide setting, and with an almost crazed grin he pulls the trigger.
"To coin a phrase, ahem, BURN HERETIC!"
Sizzle is kneeling not far from the commissar and follows the charging monster all the way in, but the last thing he wants to do is shoot the commissar. Besides, the guy has a power fist. He'll be fine.
He quickly re-aims for the incoming horde and unleashes a burst of full auto again.
His shots aren't quite as accurate this time, but they still punch like hurled bricks.
The Commissar snarls as the giant chainsword clashes against his leg, tearing through armor and even the thick metal of the augmentic. It leaves a sparking 'scar' in the metal and if that wasn't enough the leg buckles under the Commissar, sending him to the ground.
Only for a moment thought as he rises again - gritting his teeth and using every ounce of his will to make it seem causal, like the monstrous blow was just an anoyance rather than anything serious.
And then the Commissar sends out his energy sheathed power fist in a crushing blow.
The brute with the chainaxe very nearly brings his massive weapon around in time to parry the Commissars strike.
But there are no second winners in a fight and the steel fist, wrapped in a crackling disruption field, passes just underneath the axe's guard and hits the elbow joint. Cooked blood flies and the heretic goes down, lethal energies causing spasms throughout his body.
From the other side of the Chimera, Anderson can be heard fighting 'his' enemy, slicing off an offending arm in a spray of blood.
The onrushing horde is met with disciplined fires from Sizzle (wounding three but dropping none) and pretty ill-aimed salvos from Hella, Sergey, Gustav and Bolus' pet-project - and finally a veritable stream of promethium from two flamers working in a crossfire.
Overlapping cones of burning promethium incinerate the rushing mob, killing off the majority (all who where wounded before), leaving only two burning madmen to finish their rush.
Number four to reach the line is coming for Sizzle. It is one of the scaly guys and wields two wickedly serrated knives in three-fingered hands. The knife cuts come horrible fast and in the time it took Sizzle to block one, he was already stabbed two more times.
Number five is going for the close-packed Sergey and Gustav, slashing left and right with taloned hands. The two troopers jump out of harms way in opposite directions, letting the brute pass through between them in surprise.
The hoofed guy with the spear meanwhile has sniffed out Hella firing away with her stubber at the closing mob and brings down the shattered remains of the blasting lance at the squads third most important morale booster. The polearm crashes hard on the beauties head and she slumbs to the ground - whether dead or merely stunned is to be seen.
Sizzle grunts though clenched teeth. Fire burns from his wounds,
but this trooper just came from fighting Orks. He knows an all out attack when he sees one. I've had worse. Bring it on stabby!
He leaves his lasgun on full auto and rakes the barrel up his target, attempting to stab him with the baonette WHILE his gun is firing! The flurry of shots stich their way toward the monster's mutated head as the polished bayonette glimts in reflected las fire!
A brutal scream rips itself from Sizzle's throat as he attempts to remove this beast's head by any means possible!
"Bastard!"
Seeing his little brother getting stabbed awakened Asbjörn's protective instincts.
Sadly, he was somewhat ill equipped to do something about it at the moment.
Using the flamer had been tactically sound, but it also meant he didn't have a bayoneted weapon ready.
So once again he switched weapons, back to the trusty old las gun and slotted his bayonet home.
Sizzle wasn't going to fall so easily, and in a moment he'd get backup.
The Commissar looks in disgust at the hulk of a man pooled at his feet.
"Someone give this mess a few stabs to make sure it doesn't get up."
He then turns to the next guy - the one one who just stabbed Sizzle. And leans
all his might into the attack.
"That's the spirit trooper. Now hold him down like youre life depends on it. becauseit does."
The commissar's voice cuts through Sizzle's pain like a plasma torch through through tin foil. He lunges at the monster, remembering to let go of the trigger this time, and tries to force it toward the power-fisted manifestation of Big E's implacable wrath.
but the awkwardness of the swing coupled with his wounds and this burning fury behind his eyes that wasn't there just a second ago makes the attack... less than successful.
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With Yetas vague orders(or is it just a threat?) coupled with Sizzles bad luck in executing them the nudge actually takes the berserk man away form Yetas swing - but not even close to far away for Yetas fist to miss. The fist is aimed dead center on the man and the swing disregards any defensive move someone in a fight would usually want to make.
The fist resounds with a satisfying CRUNCH and the discharging energy course through the berserk man - making his eyes roll back in their sockets even if it is just for an instant. The Commissar however is not satissfied with the feel of that hit - the man just injured one of the guard, not to mention his very heretical existence is an affront to the Commissars sense of piety. And so he lets the rightous rage boil and uses the rebound of the savage hit to gain enough distance to once more hammer the fist into the man.
And so he does. With a vengeance. Hitting the man dead center the fist burries into his back for a centimeter before unleasing the powerfield with a thunderous CLAP. The impact crushes flesh and bones with a sound like stepping on a long dead leaf and then launches the man straight away from the Commissar - embedding him into the side of the Chimera. The stickyness of his own blood keeps him pinned to it for a moment before he starts sliding down and into the mud.
"Looks like a confirmed kill to me sir. Power first might lack subtlety, but not efficiency."
Bolus lets his flamer down by his side, and with an exhortation of anger and wrath draws his chainsword and moves towards the one engaged with Gustav and Sergey.
The rear of the formation dispatches two of the attackers in quick succession, one of the fallen humans ending as a bloody smear on the Chimeras hull, the other is getting cleanly beheaded by Bolus - as far as beheading by chainsword can be described as 'clean' that is.
The forward portion does find their respective opponents much harder to dispatch.
Anderson still has not dispatched his foe with any finality, despite landing several hits and the obscene amount of blood his enemy has already lost.
Gustav and Sergey seem to struggle with their enemies defense and are yet to land a blow.
Gustav has already got a bleeding gash on his left thigh for his efforts though.
The spear wielding bastard (#1) laughs a horrible, bone chilling laugh as his compatriot is smeared over the APC by the Commissars blow and points his broken lance at the red sash.
"RAAAH!!!
VLAD THE IMPALER CHALLENGE YOU!
KHORNE DEMANDS YOUR SKULL FOR THE SKULL THRONE!"
A swirling red mist of warp energy rises around the mutant - and the Commissar!
You find it nearly impossible to draw a bead on the challenger, trying as you might, or so much as approach them for that matter.
Your eyes water, your hands start trembling horribly and your heart pound like crazy as you try.
You feel compelled to leave the two fighting it out between themselves and either wait for the winner (to challenge him next) or find other prey to killmurderviolatepunishcleavehackapart.
Sizzle hears the sounds of battle on the other side of the chimera and charges the burning cultist, suddenly joining the melee with Gustav and Sergey!
Bolus recognizes the foul machinations of chaos. Incensed the priest pushes through it to do the opposite of what it intends.
He brings his chainsword around in a surprisingly effective sweep aimed at the mutant's right leg.
Tearing so take the second, which is a RF, also +2 damage since he seems unarmored.
"A heretic has no right to request a duel! Men! Father! With me!"
The Commissar answers the challenge - in a way. He knows nothing of the warpy compulsion drawing his men away and so orders his men to end the heretical worm, while taking the lead as is expected of him. He charges the brute, sending his energy loaded fist towards the other mans head.
Those voices...nobody else seems to hear them.
Got to finish this fight quick so I can mention it to the father and commissar!
The only one who seemed in real need at the moment was the Sergeant, and since Asbjörn had a nice unobstructed view of the enemy, he decided to charge him.
And so the duel becomes a melee fight between three fighters.
But by the Emperor, that hoofed mutant is quick!
In one fluid motion he leads Bolus swing astray and also manages to force the Commissars power punch out of harms way!
Its return strike with the other end of the spear, ending in wicked hook, misses the Commissars hat by a few centimeter and so does its downswing at Bolus.
"RAAAHH!
IMPERIAL DOGS, NOT A SINGLE SHRED OF HONOUR IN ANY OF YOU!
MAY A JUGGERNAUT USE YOUR SKULL FOR FUN!"
While the not-duel commences, Asbjörn places his bayonet firmly in the back of the Sergeants opponent - giving the older man just the opening he needed.
With a spray of blood and matter, Sgt. Anderson removes the head from the mutants shoulders and offers a short nod to Asbjörn.
"Well done, Trooper.
Now let's wrap things up fast and be gone.
We're sitting ducks here and ..."
He is cut short by the sudden scream and gurgle of Gustav.
The trooper is looking down at his chest - or rather the gaping hole in it.
Then he falls down, eyes going blank.
Above the fallen trooper the claw-handed mutant stands triumphant, one claw holding a clump of meat to the sky.
With a shock of recognition you realize it is presenting Gustav's heart to the dark heavens, before ...
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"
... he is biting into the organ!
Blood-red mist starts to swirl around the mutant who is casually catching the thrust of the bayonet-tipped lasgun from the enraged Sergey and rips the weapon out of the second troopers hand.