Mutated Chosen Chaos Marine
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Lars poked his lasgun out through the entrance and fired off three quick shots before being scared back inside by stray bolter fire. "Damn traitors," he grumbled, shoving a new ammo pack in the rifle. "Sarge, what are we gonna do?"
For the past ten or so minutes, this though had crossed the mind of every Private huddled inside the foxhole, though Lars was the first to voice it. He was the closest to Sergeant Avis and as such he could get away with saying statements that might be judged as 'moral damaging' or 'heretical' and as such were liable ground to execute him. The foxhole was unusual in that it was located at a slanted angle on a steep hill, giving it more depth and room inside but also meaning that it was harder to enter or leave. Suddenly, a frag missile exploded violently, shaking the Earth and loosening the foundations of the improvisate shelter; dust and grit rained down on the besieged soldiers. The entire squad broke out coughing and sneezing.
"Here's--ahhakc!--what we-we-we're gonna do!" stammered Avis. "We're gonna--ahaggck!" For a handful of seconds he was forced to cease speaking as he hacked monstrously. "We-we're gonna wait---uhhigh!---wait it out! We're gonna wait it out. They only have so much ammunition."
"This... erm, what's word? ....isn't going to hold much longer," said Cyne, a tall, ugly man with a crooked nose and bald head. Shane interjected, "Foxhole." "Yeah, this foxhole isn't stable. We can all see that."
"It'll hold," vehemently said Avis. "The Emperor protects." Another explosion rocked the ground again, pouring even more dust. A rock dislodged itself from the ceiling and landed painfully on Lars' foot, causing him to cry out in pain and shirk back. "Aaaach! Ahaagk! Okay---uhhik!---okay! The Emperor helps those who help themselves. Shane, Aelius, Sarkth and Domitan, I want you to lead the charge into the enemy! Felix, Lars, Cyne and me will offer cover fire." At first no one dared move a muscle, but the veteran Sergeant easily broke the silence by drawing his holy bolter pistol. "Move!"
Shane crawled up to opening, pausing as the first beam of sunlight hit him. Finally he stuck his head out. Almost immediately his neck snapped back and, mere microseconds later, his head exploded, showering all nearby soldiers with gore. His headless corpse tumbled back inside the foxhole, landing squarely on Domitan and pinning him under his gory bulk. The whole squad pitched in, prying the corpse off of him and heaving it out the entrance. A good dozen more bolts pierced into Shane before the Traitor Legionnaires finally realized he was dead.
"Avis," Sarkth said. "Look at what happened. You can't expect us to go out there."
"Oh yes, I can and will." Avis fixed his bolter pistol on the soldier and hissed, "MOVE."
Inspired by the holy bolter pistol, his demeanor immediately changed. Sarkth charged out at full speed, screaming, "FOR THE EMPEROR!" Aelius and Domitan, followed close behind him, struggling to keep pace. "DIE HERETICS! DIE HER-AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" The roar of an autocannon could be heard. "Aaaah! gak! gak! Aelius, come on!" The soldiers were interrupted by a deafening explosion. This was followed by an extremely tense silence.
"I think they're dead," slowly said Cyne. He repeated it with emphasis. "I think they're dead."
"Gee, we got ourselves a real Obiwan Sherlock Clousseau here," Felix spat. "Great work Inquisitor, another case solved."
"Shut up," ordered Avis. "Unless you have something that'll help alleviate our current situation Felix, shut up."
A spherical piece of metal suddenly flew in through the entrance and landed in the center of all the men. Upon closer examination, its origin became obvious. "GRENADE!" shouted Cyne, cowering in the corner of the foxhole. "GRENADE! DUCK!"
Lars hid his face in his hands, because he couldn't quite think of anything else. Avis, with his years of duty and combat reflexes, knew better and instead wrapped his flak jacket around his head. Felix scrambled for the exit. A third explosion jolted the earth, dumping more dust than any of the previous ones. The exit was sealed shut by a large mound of earth.
"Was---aaagghk! aaahhgk!---was th-th-that it?" Felix asked timidly.
"No you stupid gak!" Lars exclaimed just before sneezing profusely. "AaaaaCHOOO! Aggh, damn dust. We'd be dead. That was an explosion on the outside of the foxhole. Wait... why aren't we dead?"
Avis cautiously picked up the grenade and examined it. "This is a timed grenade," he said, as he carefully lifted up a piece of mechanics and peered inside the explosive. "The idiot who threw this thing accidentally put the timer on five minutes instead of five seconds. I thought these damn Legionnaires were supposed to be veterans of a thousand wars or something."
"Can you disarm it?"
"Who the Throne do you think I am, Ciaphas Cain? It'd probably do more harm than good if I tried to disarm it."
"It'll kill us all," said Lars sadly. "Throne, we're all dead."
"No we aren't," Cyne replied. "We aren't even close to dead."
"Shut the feth up Cyne. You don't exactly have the best ideas you know."
"You shut up! All someone needs to do is throw them self on top of it and absorb the blast. I saw it in one of the Space Marine Holo-shorts they play on those big hive screens."
Everyone just stared at each other, the entire squad contemplating the implications of Cyne's suggestion. Only one of them had to die. And each and every one of them was sure that it would be someone else. After all, they were all loyal servants of the God Emperor, surely someone would be willing to sacrifice himself for the good of the Imperium. As the Emperor had said, 'The Imperium is built on the graves of martyrs.'
"Alright," said Avis. "Lars, you've always been a devoted soldier. Go throw yourself on the grenade. Try to cover it as best as you can."
"This is how you reward my years of service? You should do it! You're the Sergeant! You have an obligation to the squad!"
"As my inferior, you have an obligation to me! Stop whining soldier and fulfill your duty to your squad, your regiment, your planet, the Imperium and the God Emperor."
"Felix should do it," grumbled Cyne. "All he does is whine and insult people."
"He's got a point you know," agreed Lars. "Felix is a jerk."
"Feth you! Maybe it's because of gak like this that I'm a jerk! Every though of that?"
"You know," Cyne said. "A dead body would work just as well as a live one."
Everyone simultaneously drew their weapons as quickly as possible. Avis shoved his bolt pistol into Lars' forehead while holding his combat knife to Felix's neck. Surprisingly enough, the gentle Cyne hovered a combat shotgun in front of Avis' face. Lars fixed his lasgun on Felix's heart. Felix himself put his combat knife on Cyne's throat. The entire squad stood deadly still, staring at the weapons. They were all equally liable to die and were all still convinced that someone else would die, now save the pessimistic Felix who was struggling to think of badass last words that could be engraved on a statue of him somewhere.
And then the grenade went off, killing them all.
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Eldar 
-5000 points 
