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Made in us
Discriminating Deathmark Assassin

This is a short story that I hope you guys enjoy, tell me what you think!

Sergeant Iant would never get used to the journey from space to a new planet's surface. Despite the Ad Mechs changing the ship's gravity well in advance of planetfall and their training, it did not help with his nausea. The smirk on Clara's face irritated him as she was fully aware of his discomfort and enjoyed seeing her Sergeant show signs of weakness, which is the exact opposite of their training. Back home on Exper, they were trained to be more machine than human. They would soon get a chance to see a race that had accomplished Exper's goal.

Clara is a different breed. The smirk she had displayed a few hours earlier was on display once more as the scent of angry Orks was in the air! She took delight in the opportunity to fire her meltagun once more. I wish I had more like her, Iant thought as he saw one of his recruits hiding. "What are you doing? We are Experions; we do not hide; we kill!" Iant yelled as he kicked the new guy who was not participating in the battle but seemingly cowering from the oncoming fire.

Before the recruit could move, he locked eyes with a Commissar. The Commissar yelled, "If this one must die to push the rest of you, SO BE IT!" he then put a bolt pistol shot into the new guy's head. The blood of the young recruit splashed onto Iant's face. Everything slowed down as Iant felt the warm blood rolling slowly off his cheek. Lasgun fire interrupted the silence as every guardsman within earshot range of the Commissar's bolt pistol recognized that sound. A Commissar's bolt pistol shot was as intimidating as an Ork's war cry. It also was an ultimatum, fight, or die! Everyone who was taking cover decided to fight in unison.

The influx of new las fire pushed the Orks backward. Iant did not understand; why they were attempting to make a base on an Ork planet! Why was a base necessary? If the goal was for Ork population control, wouldn't orbital bombardment be enough? The Imperial Navy did make some attacks, but it was not enough. It was as if they were afraid to break something. If it were up to Iant, Exterminatus would be his first, second, and last recommendation. Every Ork on this planet will soon be heading towards this base in hopes of combat and loot! Iant did not mind dying, but this was not the death he wanted. A death worthy of being mentioned in the Halls of Exper was his dream, and passing on this planet would not suffice. He yanked the lasgun from the recruit's lifeless body, and he joined the 232th Experion regiment attack.

An hour of none stop combat seemed like an eternity to Sergeant Iant. The tech-priest servitors were doing a great job of keeping them well equipped but a horrible job of keeping them informed. Were we making a dent, is the base operational, do we have reinforcements on the way? Usually, the Platoon Leader would keep us up to date, but perhaps even he was kept in the dark about this battle's mission objectives. Iant wondered how long the Tech-Priest thought that the regiment could hold this position before fatigue started to sink in. We are not like their little mechanical puppets.

During the midst of reloading his las-pistol, a servitor attempted to say his name, "Sergeant Iant." The voice was barely comprehensible; it was as if the servitor hadn't spoken in years. When Iant laid eyes on him, he was sympathetic towards the creature; it had given up everything, including its voice, to become a machine. A loud explosion approximately fifty yards north of him reminded him of the task at hand; sympathy was not needed in war. The 232th Experion Regiment was being bombarded with artillery. "What do you want, walking metal? I have a squad that needs me."

"Accuracy has been judged." The servitor said as he held out a plasma pistol. "What does that mean?" Iant asked, frustration mounting as he could hear soldiers screaming as the artillery's effectiveness was starting to become a problem. Looking at the machine, he realized there would be no explanation or even a facial reaction. The servitor was following its protocol, the only thing it was capable of doing.

"Accuracy has been judged." The servitor repeated as he moved closer to Iant. Iant wondered who was judging him when he caught the eye of an Ork that was around the size of a sentinel! It was laughing at the oncoming lasgun's fire as he breached the first barricade. Iant didn't have time to think, "Give me the damn gun." he said as he aimed his new pistol, and mere seconds later, the Ork was dead!

"Sergeant, Sergeant Iant General Aleair is asking for you," Neoa who had a vox, said while running towards Iant. Iant quickly rushed to Neoa side, expecting to receive updates. "Sergeant Iant able and wiling General." he said, happy to hear from the General.

"You are now the Platoon Commander of the 5th Platoon; you are going to hold that position for a little while longer!" the General said. Before he could respond, the General was no longer on the vox. He had received a promotion, but before he could truly recognize the achievement, other squad Sergeants started to call asking for orders. It was time for Iant to see if all those books he had read on being a Commander were worth it?

"Seven Minutes." the servitor said with the same irritating mechanical voice complicating Iant's first decision as a Captain. Seven minutes till reinforcements or seven minutes till death was imminent, it did not matter. His orders were to hold that position, and according to this servitor, something was going to happen in seven minutes.

"Squad five tell the heavy weapon squads to focus on the breach near squad three, squad three and four make a tactical retreat towards squad two. Clara move the special weapon teams towards squad two. I want to see those damn Orks burn, for Exper's Glory!" not bad; he thought for his first order, then there was a bright light, and everything went dark!

This message was edited 5 times. Last update was at 2020/09/26 19:46:56

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