[MOD]
Decrepit Dakkanaut
Cozy cockpit of an Archer ARC-5S
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Written as the introduction to a custom Kill-team campaign document that's being run at the FLGS right now. I decided to base the protagonist regiment on the Van Diemen's World Devils from Victoria Miniatures range, except for the redshirt, who is Praetorian.
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*SNAP*
We all froze at the sound, not daring to move. I felt myself holding my breath for five, ten, fifteen seconds, before slowly exhaling. All the while I kept my eye on the distant form of Murke, our point man, watching as he slowly unclenched his raised fist, finally giving the signal to advance again. Praise the Emperor, we weren’t spotted, yet.
I glance over my shoulder, scowling at the source of the noise. The snap of a dry twig might not seem like much, but when you’re in as deep as us, it’s a sound much like that of an explosion that could very well mean the difference between getting caught in an ambush or living to see another day. The man responsible for the noise, private Stevens of the 25th Praetorian Rifles, was pale and sweating profusely, he seemed to have caught on to what he did.
You useless, bloody spanker..
We continued our cautious advance for another tense five minutes before Murke called for a halt once more, this time motioning for the Sarge to join him up front. As he did so Sarge motioned the rest of us to take a knee and keep an eye out. We spread out, taking up positions that covered our flanks as we were trained to. I took special care to keep an eye on our spot of bad luck, making sure he wouldn’t make a noise again. That idiot, that fool, that sod all waste of a gakker. He noticed my oh-so friendly glare and opened his mouth, but thankfully caught himself just before he made another mistake. Just to be sure that he kept mum I less than politely motion for him to remain quiet, I didn’t come this far to die because some idiot felt the need to apologize right now. If this kept up and it came down to it, I’d have to see to him myself. Accidents happen see? It wouldn’t be the first time an observer seconded to our regiment has met an ignoble end in the greens. Why did they keep sending us Praetorians anyway? Those idiots refused to wear something a bit more sensible, like us Devils, we wore tans and greens when in the jungle, not bright red like ensign arsehole here.
Suddenly I was pulled from my dark thoughts as I felt a warm breath on my cheek and despite knowing the source I flinched, going for a blade on instinct. Standing next to me, well within my prized personal space was Kate, one of our specialists, with her sister Jo as always not far behind. She grinned as she always did, flashing that Cheshire grin of hers, trying to defuse the situation and pass it off as nothing more than a harmless joke, except that her eyes said something completely different. They were as always, dead serious. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: They weren’t like us normal folk, they only lived for the fight and to kill, nothing else mattered to them. I knew they were trouble ever since they got transferred into my squad. Girls born and raised in the deepest of our jungles? Now, we’re all bushmen and women, don’t get me wrong, I suppose it’s part of being a Van Diemen’s World inhabitant I suppose. But those girls? Murderers at work. That’s the best way to describe the Holmes sisters in all honesty. They were good with a gun, but Emperor’s balls, even better with a knife and the soft throat of some unsuspecting sentry. Not half bad to look at either. Just, you know, a shame about those murderous tendencies.
With my attention back on the situation she quietly moved up towards the front of our column, her sister in tow, moving with the sort of quiet grace you’d expect from a lethal predator from back home. I see them having a quiet conversation with Sarge, before they simply vanish. Watching them at work was a bit like a magic show I suppose, one moment they’re there, the next, gone. Vanished into the greens and the undergrowth like they were part of the jungle all along. Like I said, not normal like us. They’re the last thing you’ll never see coming, or hear either for that matter, before they slice your throat from cheek to cheek, watching you slowly gurgle your last, probably smiling all the time. Made me glad they’re on our side. I’d hate having to try and hunt those two down. Made me shudder just to think of it, scary stuff right there eh.
We kept our guard up for several more nerve wracking minutes until the sisters returned, their blades slick with blood and that eerie Cheshire grin plastered all over their faces. At their return Sarge beckoned me over, map in hand, it was time for the final stage of our operation. He leaned in close, his voice a hoarse whisper in my ear as he tapped locations marked on his map.
‘Sentries have been taken care of, take your squad and flank them from here. Remember, target is in the centre of the shanty, shoot to kill if you get a chance. Wait for my signal. Now go.’
Sarge slunk off to his own element, while I quickly stalked over to the remainder of my own fire team with the sisters in tow. I quickly motioned them to follow me. Not far from our insertion point we took a knee where in quick, hushed tones I gave them a rough idea of what we would be up against and how to best get it over with. My own element was made up of good, decent soldiers: The Holmes sisters, Ned, our weapons specialist cradling a grenade launcher and Jesse, a tall and if I were to be poetic in my description of her, a fine Amazonian warrior.
‘Let’s do this,’ Jesse, our support gunner, growled as she gave the barrels of her assault cannon a twist, cocking it. I chuckled, we all did, it was her way of letting us know she was ready. Call it a pre-engagement ritual, we all had those. Her butch macho tendencies aside, she was a good kid, one of the best and by the Emperor, I was glad to have her in my squad as a gunner. Of course, not that I could do without any of my own squad.
The five of us.. No wait, six of us.. The idiot Stevens was sadly also a part of my element, made our way over to the location marked on the map. We were at the edge of a clearing, hidden away in the brush and undergrowth, across from us the shanty town, a trio of traitors patrolling its perimeter, unaware that several of their number were already slain and that they would soon be joining them. My squad calmly and quietly lined up their shots, all we had to do now was wait for the signal.
‘What’s the signal anyway?’ Stevens hissed. He seemed on edge, nervous, eager to get it over with. Or perhaps he wanted to impress us? The toy soldier sought to impress us Devils? Adorable. Laughable more like it.
‘Knowing good old Sarge..’ I ventured, a split second later a large explosion ripping through the other side of the shanty town, a nice black cloud rising up over the buildings. Looks like he rigged the promethium dump to blow. Sarge never was subtle when it was go-time. Plus he knew that a signal had to be simple, obvious and to the point.
And right then, right there, two people did something really, really stupid. The first idiot was Stevens, who at the sound of the explosion burst from cover and charged headlong towards the enemy. Ever seen a kid, wearing a bright red uniform with blue trousers and a big pointy helmet, scream as loudly as he could while he ran towards the enemy, drawing all attention to himself like a beautiful distraction? Pretty frakking stupid I know.
‘For the Emperor! Chaaaaaaaaa-’ I believe those were his last words, before well..
Ever seen a kid get stitched by three automatics at the same time? Not a pretty sight, let me tell you that. He was dead before he hit the ground though. Dumb gak. At least we were rid of that nuisance, it saved me the hassle of doing it myself.
Wait, I mentioned two idiots right? Well, much to my shame, I was the second one, as I shot to my feet and vainly tried to keep the kid alive, but utterly failing at it. As he went down I dove behind his body, finding that while in life he was a waste of flesh and blood, in death he at least made for a good impromptu piece of cover. It may not have sounded heroic, but the body of Stevens prolonged my own life by a few precious seconds.
However, I was pinned down and the donkey-cave responsible was already dead. I always knew I’d die doing what I did best, but Emperor please? Not like this! Not for him!
That’s when the assault cannon and grenade launcher opened up, it was like a chorus of angels sang out, shredding the traitors with that fusillade of fire. Daring a glance over my shoulder I saw Jesse standing there, tall, fierce, proud, out in the open, not giving a single damn about the enemy tracers whipping around her. She simply stood there, assault cannon braced, grimacing as she gave off another burst of fire, giving me the breather I needed to get moving.
‘Tired already?’ Jesse shouted at me, her voice full of well-deserved mockery. To be fair, I had that one more than coming.
‘Screw you!’ I oh so eloquently hollered back as I shot to my feet, making the best of the covering fire she provided by charging forward. I homed in on one of the shanty buildings, which was again, not the best of ideas, but not everybody is blessed with keeping a cool head under fire. I admit, I panic under fire sometimes.
So, I simply crashed through the open door, which as my horrible luck would have it, had a traitor waiting for me, though thankfully, he was as surprised as I was.
Now, a cool guy would go for his knife and throw himself into a neat little choreographed fighting move, maybe say something badass as the bad guy bled to death. I knew the sisters had a knack for that, them both being cold-blooded knife wielding killers and pretty good in the one-liner department as well. Me? I’m not cool. Besides, cool guys usually ended up dead real fast in our line of work.
However, I did hold a degree in the school of hard knocks and I’ve learned long ago to fight dirty.
I used the butt of my shotgun, not even bothering to try and bring it round the proper way and waste my time trying to line up a shot, connecting it nicely to the face of my opponent. As he stumbled under the impact I threw myself against him, a knee to the groin, bowling him over. I may have screamed a lot as I punched and kicked him a fair few times before managing to draw my pistol and putting a few rounds in his body, point-blank range. Like I said, I’m not cool, but I’m not dead either.
Just as I was about to take stock of the situation, maybe, you know, try and catch my sodding breath, the other door was kicked open and two more traitors ran in, about to rush me with these wicked looking excuses for knives. Then, in the blink of the eye, they turned into a fine red mist as the assault cannon opened up, really close to me, drowning out all the noise, not to mention giving me a nice case of tinnitus. That ringing sensation stuck with me for the rest of the day, I’d be upset, but you can’t blame a girl for saving your life, again.
As Jesse advanced on the shanty town proper, I recovered my weapon and joined the rest of my element as we continued our assault, the next ten or so minutes devolved into a hectic, brutal slaughter that saw us go from hut to hut, obliterate any and all remaining opposition. Somewhere along the way we found the target, the so-called “Voice of Truth” or some fancy title like that, but he turned into pink mist just like everybody else when confronted by an assault cannon.
When the fight was over we regrouped with Sarge and his team, finding that nobody had bought the barn today. Well, nobody I cared about anyway, remembering the Praetorian now rotting in the clearing. I made my report to Sarge.
‘Sustained one KIA, enemy has been crushed, the primary target has been killed until it died.’
‘Excellent. Who bought it?’
‘Stevens,’ I replied, without even a hint of remorse. I hoped command took a hint now and didn’t send us another crimson clad idiot to keep tabs on us. When would they learn?
‘Shame about the kid,’ Sarge remarked. I gave him a look that questioned the sincerity of his reply. He simply smirked, chomped down on a fat cigar and lit it, puffing it for a moment, then gave us his best gak eating grin.
‘I love it when a plan comes together Joe!’
By the Emperor, I couldn’t agree more, I loved this job, we all did.
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