<< IDENTITY CONFIRMED, MAGOS. PREPARE FOR TACTICAL INLOAD BY MY MODERATII. >>
A single second passes, then a massive data packet is coming through,. momentarily overwhelming your receive buffers and, following complete reception, take a whole 5.97 seconds to decrypt no less than 6 different encryption layers of increasing complexity.
The camera viewpoint sweeps up and out from the chimaera, taking on a titan's-eye view of the battlefield, as filtered through the sensorium of the Grim Hunter.
Friendly units were well-defined, with noospheric data available as needed. The enemy existed within the fog of war. Some units were well plotted according to direct visual or hard augur returns. Others were more diffuse, extrapolations based on factors such as the exchange of fire, battle intelligence and last known location.
The view pulled swiftly back to the racing chimaeras, yet some of the god-machine's perception remained overlaid, cutting through war's fog at a local level and providing clarity to the mere mortals bound on supporting the titan's advance.
"The titan Grim Hunter acknowledges our presence," Duct reported at length, "And we are cleared to provide support. I recommend maintaining a distance of a hundred metres and watching the god-machine's flank. Alternatively, we could provide close support from within the perimeter of the void shields, but the manoeuvres required to keep us moving in the face of obstacles within that perimeter would be difficult to maintain over any length of time."
"The advance goes well, I believe, but be wary. Damage to the titan's augur array means it is more vulnerable to ambush than is optimal. We may have little warning of an attack."
Back in the camp of the regiment, "Deaf Joe" gives the (loud) order to one of the Basilisk crew to fire.
Loading in an earth-shaker shell, adjusting the coordinate just a little, the shell leaves the cannon followed by the traditional cry of "Shatter their sky!".
The shell flies high, piercing the clouds as it reaches the highest point of it's arc.
For a moment it seems to hang in the air, peaceful, silent, calm...
And then it begins it's descent again.
Once more it breaches the clouds, picking up speed, an instrument of destruction.
Below, a mighty figure strides forward, it's massive frame clad in ancient power armour.
It's voice echoes inside the ceramite helmet, an inhuman roar of rage and glee at the prospect of the slaughter of the corpse emperors weaklings.
The weak cultist are galvanised by the presence of such an engine of destruction and surge forward again.
Throwing it's head back, the great figure once more roars, only now, halfway through giving voice to it's rage, the cry gives way to a surprised, strangled wheeze as it spots the shell, seemingly aimed perfectly at it's head.
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Cormaegs eyes snaps open and he blinks in confusion.
After a moment, he realises he is on the floor.
Had he been a younger and more impulsive man, he might have attempted to get up right away, but age does lend itself to a certain cautious wisdom.
Instead he slowly and methodically begin to wiggle his toes and fingers, testing that his limbs obey his command.
Since everything seems to be working, he looks up and spots Leni.
While she is clearly holding him, she doesn't seem to be focusing her attention on him at the moment.
That's good, it means that he cannot be in immediate danger at the moment.
So, he takes a moment to try and discern what is going on around him.
The camera switches to Leni, who barely noticably tilts her head up and to the right, thinking. Then after a few moments she activates her vox bead: "We'll provide support from outside the void shields. Are you sure 100m is the correct distance thought? Our weapons lose most of their effectiveness that far out. So we have to get closer before we can actually respond to anything if we hang back that far."
"One hundred metres is a sensible distance for providing support," Duct responded, "At 97.5114 metres from the void shield boundary, there is a significant drop-off for close-misses of ordnance aimed at the titan. We can close the range quickly if a threat presents itself."
A montage starts.
The trio of dirt spattered Chimeras in the center as they rumble and grind their way through the muddy, blasted, pockmarked area.
We see Leni, frantically working with "Lost" over the nav slate and calling course corrections, trying to keep the Chimeras as close as possible to the methodically advancing Titan - not an easy task given the stupendous amount of trenchworks, deep craters, tank traps and long furrows.
We see Thud'dr getting back topside, popping the hatch again to take a proper look-around. And several series of long bursts with the heavy stubber into enemy trenches as they rumble by.
We see Dreamer pop a grenade from the fixed-forward weapon of the Chimera into the rear of a bunker they pass by, already stomped upon by the Titan. This stops the occasional small arms fire coming from within it at last.
We see Vect, sitting motionless and seemingly completely inactive, with only his augmentic eyes blinking rapidly. Then suddenly, he yells a warning: "Incoming barrage - Prepare!". A snap-cut later, we hear him speak up again: "Titan main weapon discharge imminent - lock all hatches now!"
We see Grox, working the hard-mounted lasgun methodically like only a Stormtrooper can, sending short burst of lasfire out over and into the trenches, suppressing and punishing any attempts to retaliate.
We see Cormaeg, finally coming around and getting back into the game, readjusting his bearings and taking in the current tactical situation. He makes sure to switch the internal vox of the passenger compartment to the platoon vox, thus ensuring that Vect's warnings are heard by everyone in real time.
We see, from the massively armored head of the Titan, the zig-zacking tiny, toy-like forms of the three imperial APCs, keeping at a rough 8 o'clock position, about a hundred meters from the powerful, striding godmachine. Its voids constantly aflame with impacts, ranging from puny slug rounds from inconsequential small arms, to man-portable missiles and tank shells all the way up to heavy battlecannon and artillery shells. But nothing stops its ponderous, measured advance. Bunkers fold under its massive feet. Trenches and tunnels collapse under its colossal weight.
We see, a dark tunnel with tightly packed, dark figures. All are armed.
We see them grouped around a large spiked metal ball object with a handhold on each side - each held in the huge hands of a bloated, mutated figure, who needs to bend low to fit its bulk in the tight tunnel.
We see dirt and grit fall from the tunnel ceiling in regular intervals to the shaking of the ground. To rhythmic, titanic footfalls.
We see a cybernetic construct resembling a long segmented centipede skitter along the ceiling.
We see it fiddle with the spied metal object using tiny, multi-segmented mechadendrites.
We see a sickly green glow flashing up on one of its surfaces.
We follow the skittering centipede-construct as it rushes along the tunnel ceiling.
We see it perform the same ministrations to half a dozen more spiked metal objects.
We see it fall from the ceiling as the earth shaking footfall of something massive is making the underground tremble and collapse.
We see half a dozen places where the ground is collapsing and dirt covered figures emerging from the collapse.
We see them gather, first in two's and three's then in squad strength, then more and more, with large mutants joining them, dragging massive spiked objects between them.
We see those groups charge towards the very close, towering form of a godmachine - all groups already within its void shields.
We see the close proximity small arms fire from the Titan's turrets starting to rain down on the burrowers.
We see them being too many, too close to stop all of them from reaching its feet.
We follow one pair of lumbering brutes as they carry their spiked load with grunts and animistic bellows.
We see one of the brutes getting hit by a long burst of heavy bolter fire.
We see it collapse, barely a dozen steps from where the Titan's feet just crashed down.
We see the second brute drag on, despite missing an arm and half its chest.
We see it struggle for five more meters.
We see the spiky metal ball flash in sickly green light. Once. Twice. Thrice.
We see the spiky metal ball disintegrate into nothing but blinding sick-yellow-green light.
We see the void shields of the Titan to flicker and stutter.
We see the titans armament to stop firing.
We see the light from the view slids from its god-like face, turn from gold, to a dull red with a tinge of the same sickly yellow-green.
We see one raised, Titanic feet slam down much heavier, less controlled than before, bringing the Titan down into a half kneeling position.
We follow a large group of dirt-covered infantry as they slidder and crawl out of half collapsed tunnels and advance towards the struggling godmachine.
We hear them chanting in tongues not meant for human tongues nor ears.
We hear whiplashes.
We see the form of a towering, armor-clad monstrosity herding the dirt-covered infantry before him with a whip made of bone and spiked intestines.
There is aLOT of static ... and some faint whispering...
You are some 100m behind the titan in a 8 o'clock position.
The large infantry formation has come out to the Titan's 10 o'clock, inside the void shield perimeter and roughly 30m off.
The void shield of the Titan is flickering, making shooting at the enemy infantry assault from your position in risk of splattering against the Titan's void.
We'll handle this as a status of the enemy:
"shielded-3"
Duct was hunched and shivering, looking for all the world like somebody abruptly in need of a cup of hot grox soup and a nice lie-down. Diagnostic icons flared angrily in his vision as his systems sought to fight off the infection.
Nevertheless, he managed to grate out his own viewpoint, "At them! Let those who would defile a god-machine perish at the hands of infantry support!"
From up top, the constant rust of heavy scrubber fire suddenly stops. A single cultist from the group of twenty Thud had been turning into Emperor-Blessed Chunky Salsa remained, surrounded by the ankle deep soup of his fellows. That one man grinds, clearly blessed by his profane masters. Thud immediately rips the empty ammo can from the weapon and chucks it at the defiant heretic. His face has just long enough to register surprise before the metal ammo can splits it in two.
Thud bellows his laughter and slams another can in place. He swims his weapon towards the cultists assaulting the God Machine and opens up!
Leni takes a quick look and - for once - doesn't need to think hard what to do there. Her eyes light up and her mouth forms a crooked, sorta grim looking grin. Her hands reach for the vox bead send button:
"This is it, this is why we kept close to the god machine! Full speed, target is an intercept angle where we reach those frakkers before they reach the god machine! Everyone else: shoot them to pieces. If they aren't gone by the time we reach them we'll slam our babies into them! The god machine MUST be protected."
The vox bead switches off, and one last murmor from Leni can be heard: "otherwise... who will protect US in the middle of the enemy lines?"
Lenis quick little pep talk over the vox doesn't sound very impressive in the ears of the others considering her plan is to engange - and possibly ram into - an infantery formation which just brough a frigging titan low. But her plans are followed nonetheless, bringing them closer and reducing the void shielding getting in the way of their shooting
Getting closer does not seem to be a problem either. The infantery seems so focused on their mission they don't even notice the chimeras coming for them
A very long rattling burst of stubber fire from the living turret is mowing down the frontmost ranks of the infantry assault on the struggling Titan. As we see the front of the wave falter and fall, we see Leni's scribbling data slate entries and the entry reading TTTT (with a translucent, incorporeal footnote reading: "tango time to target") actually go up by several seconds... and above the second number labeled TTI (with another handy incorporeal note reading "time to intersect").
But we also see the ammo belt rattling through Thud'dr's heavy stubber suddenly fly off and away into no-man's-land, as the last of its bullets is being fired and the gun clicking dry a couple times before falling silent. We see Thud'dr instinctively grasping for the next box only to discover that it is not where he expected it to be!
Unless anyone else wants to have a go, I'll next deal with Leni's second move, which will move the scene ahead, through the voids and into very close range with the enemy.
Churning through the muddy no-man's-land, three chimeras rapidly approach the struck Titan. Gunfire is coming from all forward facing weapons, striking the wave of infantry which is swarming towards the fallen god, like an army of ants would smarm towards a fallen human.
But with a decisive intercept course and a unrelenting onslaught of a highly motivated Ogryn-Turret decimating the foremost - three determines pieces of battlefield float some interpose themselves between the hurting Godmachine and another, even larger wave of enemy infantry.
While we observe the desperate rush of both the horde of chaos and the chimeras, both seeking to get into position first, we hear the typical crackle of vox as the lead fighting vehicle with a stylized pearl stenciled to its rear ramp is starting to gain a noticeable lead.
<< Eltee for Pearl: what's the plan when we get there? Close formation or dispersed line? Dismount or rem-ZRRRRRRTR >>
The moment the leading chimera passed through the iridescent, flickering void shield of the Titan, the vox connection momentarily fizzles.
The heavy static continues to frizz and buzz until the command chimera too crosses the protective boundary, with heavy shelling starting to hit the upper shield.
<< ZZZZZRT-ts the rules of engagement, Sir?!Sgt. Stone on repeat: what are the rules of engagement, Sir?! Sgt. Stone on repeat ...>>
Cormaeg, tired of essentially playing possum, decides to resume command for now.
Rising steadily to his feet, despite the comfortable position fo being cradled be Leni, he takes the vox to give a few short orders.
"This is Lt MacCammon. For now, the order is close formation, we will strike together, like the emperor's own fist.
For now, we will NOT dismount.
Arrow formation, Peal already have the lead, so we will offer support from the flanks."
He then takes a few moments to repeat the orders until he gets confirmations.
<< Copy that, we're slowing a tad. >>
Piglet and the command-medevac chimera rapidly close ranks with the leading pearl as it is slowing down notably.
The enemies obviously do not intend to slow down and, in the brief moment the Imperials took to form back up, coalesced into another charge towards the Titan. Their formation does look a bit suspicious, with a large number of infantry facing directly towards you, and a smaller, somewhat detached, closely packed group behind and going for a direct path towards the Titan.
]
As he was not being immediately called upon to fight, Duct focused on purging his systems of the scrap code. Quite aside from the benefits to himself, any information uncovered in the doing might be applicable in freeing Grim Hunter from its malign influence.
Leni is a bit startled when Cormaeg unexpectedly gets back up. "Easy hun. I didn't think you'd be back in shape for a few more minutes. Don't rush or it'll affect you later"
Cormaeg favours Leni with a boyish grin, seemingly taking at least twenty years of his face through sheer mischievousness alone.
"Don't worry, you don't get to be my age without learning to listen to your body from time to time.
I'm no Thud, but I'm a lot tougher than I look.
...
And I do look plenty though as it is, even if I do say so myself."
After a moment, he does relent and takes a seat despite his previous boast.
"You also don't get to be my age without learning to listen to the women in your life."
Clearly not realizing that she had her combead flipped on, the entire squad hears the whispered words of Libia "Lovely" as she leans over to her heavy weapon companion John "Doe" saying:
"Man those two... Still don't know whether to be jealous, anxious or happy about them being... Wait why do you wave like that...? Oh."
Then the combead is flicked off and some cheeks are blushing.
Into the awkward silence, we hear "Patchy" ask in a voice dripping with annoyance:
"Ey, Lovely, if you have time to comment on the latest daily soap episode, you certainly have the time to better secure your ammo boxes. One just bumped against my kitbag!"
"What? Nah, those aren't mine. I always mark fresh ones with white tape and I haven't used any yet."
Cormaegs expression remains completely neutral, but inwardly, he can't help but chuckle just a little bit.
Camp gossip, so it starts...
Thud is confused. His ammo can is gone. It was right here! He checks his pockets. Not there. His other arm. Not there. He thinks about checking his crack, (people always talked about pulling things out of there) but there wasn't enough space to reach. The crew never knows how close it came to true horror.
Then he hears a rattle and the crew mention a can! Oi! Gimmie! he bellows.
The words of the Ogryn are met by a few confused moments of silence, then Lovely, Doe and Dippsy all slide out of their harnesses and scramble around, looking for the missing ammo.
"Got it!", shouts Dipsy, at the same time as:
"Here!", Lovely remarks.
The two look at each other, then Doe is grabbing for his combead, with a concerned look on his face:
"How many boxes are you missing, Thuddy?"
In the turmoil, no one notices as Vect momentarily goes silent, even his bionic eyes dimming and then fading for a split second.
Via squadron link, Sgt. Stone is reporting:
<< "Contacts getting closer. There are tank traps to our one and eleven and looks like another trench dead ahead.
We had unconfirmed movement around the titan's leg a moment ago, too. Repeat: possible, unconfirmed movement around the titan.
Unless we change course, we will directly push into that big infantry charge coming from our 10.
If that is the intention, I'd recommend changing to a collision course to bring hull-mounted weapons to bear.">>
The voice of "Lil'Un" (the Ogryn handler from second squad) is chiming in:
<<"If we're that close, can we let the biggies outta the box? It's getting harder to keep them by the minute!>>"
"How many boxes are you missing, Thuddy?"
Thud takes one look at the flood of targets in front of him and responds, Just gimmie!
He snatched the first one that comes in to reach and rapidly (for him) loads. Soon the chimera starts vibrating again and brass casings cascade out the side of his weapon!
The cam switches to Leni, cheeks still a little flushed but the grin says she probably equally enjoys making them jelous even if it wasn't intentional. The grin becomes serious thought with Sgt Stones report coming in. A quick glance at Cormaeg tells her she needs to make this call.
She takes a quick peak outside, even if it means stealing sight from their driver for a moment. Then you can almost see the gears ticking in her head
"Change course by 20 degrees to bring hull mounted weapons to bear on biggest concentration. At 20 meters out from them change course back by 5 degrees so we will punch through the thinnest part of the enemy formation. Lil'un you're cleared to let the big guys out. You're not cleared to lose them thought. Take good care of them.
Also: first one out on the other side takes a look at that unconfirmed contact at the leg. Stone, that means you unless things go very wrong."
In the background of Leni's orders is a constant roar of stabber fire and Thud shouting glorious imprecations against his targets interspersed with poorly worded curses and cackling laughter.
With a deafening roar, all three chimera engines are kicked into ramming speed, their drivers deliberately straining their machines while whispering short prayers for the machine spirits underneath their breaths.
The view slides back through the command vehicle.
We see Cormaeg and Leni grabbing for handholds to steady themselves for impact - one hand each unintentionally finding purchase on the very same grip.
We see Dreamer thumping out a quick series of grenades from the hull-mounted launcher.
Sliding back into the passenger compartment, we hear the long bursts of stubber fire from above, as well as a steady plinck-plonk of many ejected metal shell casings falling down the "turret" and roll about.
We see Grox and Dippsy at the fixed rearward lasguns as fast as they would go.
We see the two heavy weapon teams going through another round of gear checks.
Then we fade out of the Chimera and the view quickly rises up and pans down, giving us a suddenly perfectly silent bird-eye view over the battlefield, just as the lead chimera with the stenciled on pearl is bowling over the first, tiny figure.
The three blocky shapes of the APCs are surrounded by flashing gunfire and dying infantry.
In the most critical of moments, right in the thicket of the enemy wave, Piglet's assault ramp clank down and three figures, two very bulky and one which is only looking "little" in comparison, are jumping out and stat their bloody work on the enemy. Their squad mates make the best of the brief moment, sending out a missile and a stark-bright ball of plasma in addition to the tiny flashes of several lasguns.
This sends a ripple through the enemy formation allowing Piglet to pick up speed again, shrugging of two enemy troopers who jumped on board.
Only moments later, the leading vehicle is out of the thick already and angles off towards the Titan, picking up speed as it goes.
We quickly slide back into the driver's compartment of the medevac as Leni, Cormaeg, "Speaker" and "Lost" try to get their bearings and assess the new situation. From the looks of it, your charge managed to comprehensively disrupt and scatter the big infantry blob. The gunner of Piglet reports a great number of fleeing troopers. On the other hand, Sgt. Rem'Shir reports that the Ogryns are still heavily engaged with what appears to be the hardened core of the enemy.
Then, right into the middle of it all, first reports from Pearl comes in:
"<< Seems like the Titan is dispersing their own infantry. We see a bunch of their foot soldiers and Screamer thinks he also saw some higher ranking Magi on the move and waoh!
...
Sir, they just fired at us. I think a warning shot, but a damn close one at that!>>"
Warning shot or no, Duct reflected, rattling sabres at one's own side was sub-optimal behaviour. Using his noospheric link, he took a moment to highlight the squadron's 'friendly' tags, adding his own credentials for emphasis.
This done, Duct turned his attention to the smaller cluster of infantry and how they fit into the enemy's blasphemous titan-hating schemes. There was additional skullduggery at play here, he was sure. In the absence of servo-skull reconnaissance, he cracked the rear hatch, falling back on his trusty mk iii eyeballs and a feed from his weapon scope.
For a short while, a screen-within-screen view shows Duct's servo-skull gliding forlornly across the battlefield. Landmarks from the squadron's wild ride show that it is on their trail, though hopelessly far behind.
Inside the crew compartment of the medevac, a recently rebooted magos is recoiling heavily after trying to reach out via the noosphere. He looks like someone who just put some appendage into boiling oil or icy waters.
The noosphere outside of the Chimera and especially around the Titan is in a state of open digital warfare. The thrice cursed Phage is battling, gnawing and tearing at the defensive ablative walls surrounding the physical boundaries of the Godmachine just like the void shields that protect it's physical shell. And just like the void shield, the flamming walls are failing too.
Even a simple data package containing IFF data is enough to draw very unwanted attention and a sliver of Phague is whipping your way, attempting to once again infiltrate your systems!
Thud'dr find himself struggling with deciding in targets. Should he target the clumb of enemies around his kindred Ogryns, which might risk hitting them in the process. Or he could mow down some of the fleeing enemy. Or target the group dead ahead, which make good use of a long row of tank traps for cover.
Meanwhile, the commanders need to consider what's next.
Thud sends a burst at the cowering cowards behind the tank traps, then yells down, AYAA ELTEE! DEM BROS GET TA PLAY! CAN I PLAY TOO!?
Leni is - as always - seen on the Vox, immeditley answering Perls report:
"Are you sure that's the Titans personel? Remember: The enemy is mechanicum and somewhat resemble our tech priests. If they send a high ranking tech priest into the Titan we're in trouble!"
Duct spoke up, voice crackling even more than would usually be expected from a tech-priest, and clearly under considerable strain, "The enemy's line of attack is more direct. Those squads are attempting to deliver some manner of weapon to the God-Machine. They must be our priority." Duct extended a twitching arm to point squarely at the smaller infantry group steadily advancing through the tank traps.
"For all that the noosphere is in confusion and disarray, the enemy would still be hard-pressed to imitate loyal tech-priests." Though perhaps Duct under-estimated just how similar different groups of the technologically-augmented could look to the uninitiated.
<< They wear red robes, have shiny legs and shot at us with those fancy blue zappy guns.
I guess they're them Skitters or whatever they're called.
And it was only one burst.
As we stopped, they stopped shooting. >>
We quickly snap-cut to Thud'dr sending another half-box downrange towards the enemy advance party around the tank traps.
For a brief moment, the group hunkers down, then there is shouting to be heard and they all rise again as a man and weather the storm.
Over the distance it is difficult to tell but there are half-visible figures going down in the hail of fire.
We bullet-travel along with a stubber round, richochet off one of the steel-bars of the tank trap and imapct against the swolen flesh of one of the mutant dragging a spike-covered metal sphere the size of an Ogryn's chest. It draws blood and a yell but a crackling whip from an unseen source is harassing its back and it continues to heave and push the massively heavy object forward with its kindred.
A masked and armored warrior hustles past the brute, leans against the tank trap and rests a long-barrelled lasgun with a complex scope against the solid surface, aiming at the distant blocky shape of a chimera with a bulky shape sticking out the top hatch.
For a brief moment, we clearly see the front of the scope. It looks like an eight pointed star with a leering skull and cog symbol in the middle of it. One of its eye socket is glowing in a mechanical red light, the other with a horrid green-yellow-brown shimmer.
We see misting breaths coming in quick intervals from behind the grotesque, leering face mask of the soldier, then it suddenly halts for a brief moments
Then the longlas cracks, emitting a super-charged beam of light is sent against Thud'dr's head.
We follow the beam as the world around it slows. The beam flashes across the relatively narrow gap to its target in the blink of an eye. Just before it hits, reacting faster than thought, Thud's holy implants emit a pulse of sanctified energy, countering the fell and corrupted influence on the shot's aim. The shot refracts ever so slightly and catches Thud's polished, shiny Bon'e'ead implants at an acute angle. The polished sheen reflects the shot instead of absorbing it. The needle of concentrated death leaves only a carbonized streak in its wake.
Thud's head doesn't even rock back. Instead, he turns, Stubber still chewing up the infantry, and locks his eyes on the origin point of the shot. He is hurt. Not physically, but emotionally. The coward didn't even have the guts to stand up! He feels his innate rage boil; His voice becomes a rumbling threat, ElTee? They be tryin' ta snip me! Can I get out now?
Having punched clean through the main enemy formation, 2nd platoon (or rather their COs) finds themselves in a state of indecisiveness.
Many objectives are available all around them and the overall tactical situation in a highly confusing state.
But then, the urging analysis of their Adeptus Mechanics liaison combined with the squad's Ogryn asking for permission to engage the sniper providing covering fire for the enemy assault group proves as a tie breaker. A quick, non-verbial exchange between Lieutenant and Sergeant later and the orders echo through the squadrons com-beads:
<< Converge on the small enemy formation, dead ahead from the lead vehicle. Tank traps in place, no vehicle charge - Repeat: tank traps ahead. Thud'dr: engage directly. Infantry elements dismount and engage the enemy from Chimera cover. Keep within immediate reboarding distance of your transports. >>
The cam doesn't change but just as Cormaegs order finishes the combeads of Leni's squad crackle to live
"You heard the man, we'll park in front of the tank traps and get out to shoot heretics. Anyone who likes to get in nice and close gets up front to ready to counter charge, everyone else lays down a hail of fire"
The Chimera doesn't have to go far, the tank traps are almost in front of them already but what they do is a 180 turn before the rear hatch clanks open - allowing the squad to get out without exposing themselves towards the other hertics and more importantly the sniper that tried to turn Thuds head into a las-candle.
Leni is first out shouting "You know the drill - firing line with melee support. Faster faster faster today the enemy shoots back!" the same way sergeants hurried their troops for the last 40000 years. The firing line snaps into place in the center, with the melee troops to the sides, ready to counter charge - giving the gunners just that little bit more peace of mind to turn into killer aim.
Thud does not exit the back of the Chimera. It would take far to long to squeeze through there. Instead, he places one hand on the roof of the Chimera and hauls himself up and over the side. With his other hand he snatches his shield from its place strapped to the inside wall. His boots hit dirt and the ground shudders. He takes up position on the right flank of the line. His Evicerator, quiet at the moment, still gleams threateningly in the choked light of battle. He spots the sniper nest and looks to Leni, begging with his eyes to be set loose.
Duct wasted little time in descending from the chimera, positioning himself to the flank, axe lit and crackling in one hand. His other arm rose to bring his integrated lasrifle into line. Duct sighted in on those elements screening the weapon, awaiting the volley so as to fire for maximum effect.