Duty and other precious things
Four vehicles weaved down the rough concrete roads of North Cirset. Ever since the Guild began using vehicles to transport goods to and from the uphive, it had become necessary to construct at least decent roads for them to travel on. Most of the settlements at least had a few main roadways built, especially along the most oft travelled routes. Typically this convoy would've travelled via Atro City, Scumtown and Sludge Harbour or Martyr Town, Reliance and Plosper. Of course, they were carrying particularly valuable cargo and Lady Thebe had decided they should travel an unorthodox route.
Bringing up the tail end of the convoy was a regular Enforcer patrol car, a regular sight in the underhive which caused scummers and ne'er-do-wells to shrink back into the holes they crawled out of. Rickmund was driving, the solemn sniper intently focused on the road. Next to him sat Karla, who was cleaning her meltagun. It was more a habit than out of necessity - all enforcers kept their equipment in top condition anyway.
Sitting in the open on the back of the enforcer pickup, Kenny and Johnson were exchanging banter. The former was a young lad but tall for his age, who had lied on his application form when he joined the PDF before going AWOL as part of captain Roth's platoon. The latter was a grizzled medic who spent as much time as he could enjoying life, seeing as it was his occupation to kill people and stick the guts back in his friends when they got shot by gang scum.
The central vehicle - an armoured truck - carried the precious cargo within. Troopers Hicks and Munro sat in the front cabin, sharing a lho stick.
In front was a combat jeep. Lightly armoured but fast, with a large multilaser mounted on the back. A large, muscled man named Marco stood with a tight grip on the pintle-mounted gun, his eyes scanning every person they passed by for sign of a threat. Corporal Jenkins was driving with sergeant Miriam riding shotgun.
At the front was Elyse on her bike, scouting ahead of the convoy.
***
"Man, I cannot wait to get back to Gelttown. It's been a long couple of days dealing with those snide uphivers," Kenny remarked, idly rubbing the back of his head. "The looks they give us really piss me off, like we're scum. We're in the guard for Emperor's sake!"
"We
were in the guard. Past tense. Now we're Guild Enforcers, genius," Johnson corrected with a smirk. Kenny was always getting confused when he was riled up, so he decided to quickly change the topic. "Besides, I didn't mind the looks I was getting off those two girls near that magnate's house in the merchant sector. Turns out they were his daughters, and that they like men in uniform."
"How the hell did you find that out? You know the magnate looks down on us, the rich bastard, the magnate's private guard never let me speak to anyone, especially not pretty girls," he muttered dejectedly.
Johnson chuckled, rubbing his left hand. The knuckles were bruised and still ached from where they'd been introduced to someone's jaw. "I have my ways, little man. Trust me, those girls were interested in a lot more than just talking."
Kenny looked very puzzled for a few moments and Johnson watched with amusement as the cogs turned in his head and his face lit up with laughter, before giving the medic a congratulatory punch on the arm.
"Funny thing is, I don't remember their faces. Boy do those uphive girls know how to get some strong amasec! But let me tell you Kens, that's a night I'll never forget."
***
Rickmund sighed as she overheard Johnson's boasting. Still, he was one of the better medics in the force and he'd rather have him rooting around in his guts than some local mad doc. The man was all sunshine and happiness on the outside, but Rickmund had walked him back from the Golden Gelt drunk out of his mind and sobbing about how he remembered the face of every single comrade he'd failed to save. They'd all heard him scream in the night. The man was haunted by the dead.
Karla shared a glance with him. She smiled. "I know what you're thinking, Rick."
"Maybe I should report a rogue psyker to the Adeptus Arbites," he replied dryly. She laughed.
"You're thinking about how you'd much rather be on street patrol breaking up fights and putting a shot through ganger's at four hundred meters with that long-las of yours."
"No, that's what you're thinking," he said. "But your eyes were never good enough to hit anything more than ten feet away from you. That's why they gave you that glorified microwave shotgun."
"Oh Rickmund, you'll hurt my feelings if you aren't careful," she replied sarcastically as she continued cleaning her meltagun. The two of them went way back. She started to reminisce about the old days again. They'd been in the PDF special weapons division for ten years before they met the cap and split.
She almost missed the regimented lifestyle, but it had been so very dull. While things made a lot of sense in those days, at least down here she could put her training to good use, make some solid thrones and maybe do a bit of good.
Rickmund, being the very epitome of the deadpan sniper stereotype that the regular grunts had always joked about, doing stoic impressions of him behind his back, had just unquestioningly followed her when she said she was leaving. Why? Because she was the only woman who had ever melted his ice cold heart and he loved her for that.
It was their little secret. The others never even suspected disagreeable Rickmund was capable of anything more than exceptional indifference. The man was cold, unfriendly even, except when she was with him. This one time, she'd even seen him smile. But that was one war story the rest of the squad refused to believe.
"When we get back tonight, what do you say we-" she started.
"Yes," he answered, his voice soft with no trace of its usual gruffness.
"That's one of the things I love about you Rick. You'd follow me to the grave and back just to see me smile, you big softy!" She teased.
He sighed. "I guess I'd better go and kill Hivepounder with my bare fists. I've got a reputation to maintain."
"And with one precise strike, the mighty Karla cuts down the legendary ego shield of sniper Rickmund!" She mock narrated. "Without it, his masculinity reserves are compromised and oh - what's this? He had a secret weapon this whole time: an emotion! Yes, that's it, actual emotion. With it he retaliates, sweeping Karla off her feet. Who would've thought?!" She gasped.
"After I kill Hivepounder, I think I'll go tickle Jaeger Ravion and win the Gladiator Pit championship just to be on the safe side," Rickmund nodded with certainty.
"...Or we could just steal some of Munro's amasec, borrow a patrol car for the night, drive to the edge of town and fuck like there's no tomorrow."
"That works too."
***
Hicks exhaled, precariously taking one hand off the wheel to take the lho stick out of his mouth and pass it back to Munro.
"I've got to give it to you man, that's some good stuff," he said. "Where'd you say you got it again?"
"Just some joint run by a few gangers in one of the local settlements, they sell them pretty cheap all things considered. That's my last one though, so make the most of it. And keep your damn eyes on the road."
"Relax will ya? It's fine, we're nearly at the tunnel anyway. Next is Farville which is pretty direct and before you know it we're back in the barracks enjoying some drinks. That reminds me, have you got any in?"
"Nah, I'm not sure where they all go. Every time we get back from a run, about half of it goes missing and we finish off the rest. After we get our pay tomorrow, I'm thinking of taking what I've saved and buying a small place in Gelttown and starting up my business. Get out of the enforcer work once and for all, y'know? The grog they sell in the Golden Gelt is alright but it still tastes like grox piss next to my brew.”
"It's true, you've got some Emperor-given talent when it comes to making that stuff. I think you should go for it man, you could really make a name for yourself down here," Hicks encouraged, sparing a moment to take the lho stick back off his best friend. "If you ever need a second pair of hands or some security, you know where to find me."
Munro almost laughed. "What, you think I'm going to leave my little bro behind? Hell if we put our savings together we could really start something, maybe get one or two of the others involved and then start up our own drinking hole in one of the settlements."
Hicks gave him a sideways glance. "You know I'm three years older than you."
"Yeah, but yer still my little bro. Now pass that lho back."
***
"Four months of convoy duty," Marco complained. "Sarge, you've gotta have a word with the captain after this, get our unit rotated to patrol or guard duty again. We need a rest."
"But would you really prefer they send out greens on the convoy runs? With Grimm gone the Guild needs veterans on the job now more than ever," Corporal Jenkins pointed out.
"Tell you what Jenkins, when you get promoted to sergeant you can lead your own squad up and down the hive all year long if you want, but we need a break. We've earned it a hundred times over risking our lives for the Guild's fancy trinkets."
"Would you rather have a bunch of greens out here running convoys, getting themselves killed? I've never lost a man on a run and that's why the captain has kept us on this assignment for so long. He knows we're the best," Miriam countered.
"Everyone needs a rest sarge, we're not space marines," Marco exclaimed. "As much as I love seeing all the different types of shit hole the underhive has to offer and turning scummers who fancy themselves big highwaymen into fleshy chunks with a multilaser, I think I speak for everyone else when I say it'd be good to do something different for a change. I want to spend a bit of time with my kid, y'know? Besides, like you say boss, a lot of the other enforcers aren't used to convoy runs, not like we are. They need the experience."
"I hate to admit it, but I agree with meathead back there," Jenkins concurred.
"Hey, who are you calling meathe-"
"Stow it you two," Miriam barked, silencing the pair of them. "We're heading into the tunnel. Nearly home boys, we'll discuss it then."
"Yes sir!" Jenkins snapped off a curt salute and she nearly cursed him then and there for taking his hand off the wheel while moving. Marco rolled his eyes. They all knew Jenkins was a born and bred career soldier, a real suck up. Many wondered why he'd even defected, but those who knew him half-well were aware that despite his failings, he had always been loyal and on numerous occasions he'd seen him willingly risk his own neck for his colleagues. For that, he had Marco's respect.
***
Elyse raced down the tunnel, the dim overhead lighting casting a faint golden hue. She loved the tunnels, they were the only place she could go this fast. A buzzing in her ear snapped her attention back to her job.
"Kzzrk--outrider, this is lead, what's your status? Over." It was the sergeant.
"Tunnel clear-no wait, there's someone up ahead. Just looks like another ratskin vagrant," she reported. "Seems smart enough to stick to the walls so I doubt you'll have any delays, over."
"Roger that outrider, keep us informed."
Left alone with her thoughts, she raced onwards. She relished the speed. Being a scout in the PDF was the most superfluous position available on an inhospitable planet made of ice where no one could leave the city. But her old COs had said she was too reckless and irresponsible to be a part of a normal unit. Hell, it was a no-brainer when Roth was asking for people to jump ship to live in the underhive as mercs. It was a good life, if a bit less sanitary. And here, she could do what she did best. Live fast and free.
The tunnel was almost at an end and she looked forward to getting through Farville as quickly as possible. The Long Walk, as the direct tunnel from Farville to Gelttown was known, was her favourite place in the world. She practised there in her free time, so that one day she could use her pay to buy a fast racer from Valorum and compete in the Cirset death races.
For a moment her mind wandered. As the end of the tunnel approached, she imagined crossing the finish line and being greeted by the cheers of hundreds of whooping fans and Lady Thebe bestowing the first place prize on her. It was glorious.
When she actually passed through the tunnel mouth, or rather when her bike did, her reverie was broken. A metal wire was pulled up at the last second that caught her right in the chest and she was thrown from her bike, her mind barely registering what happened as she hit the ground with a gasp.
Rolling over she tried to pick herself up, reaching for the shotgun on her back. The unseen attacker revealed himself, running from just off to the side of the tunnel's mouth. He sent a powerful kick right into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She began to raise her shotgun but a second man appeared next to the first and wrestled it out of her grasp while pointing a large bolt pistol down at her. The last thing Elyse saw was a crackling shock maul swinging towards her head.
***
"Outrider, come in, over," Miriam said into her comm-bead. She waited a few seconds and then spoke again, frowning;"Outrider, I repeat come in, do you copy? Over."
"Something wrong sir?" Jenkins asked as they passed the Ratskin that Elyse had mentioned.
"I don't like it," Miriam answered. "She should have reported in by now."
She spoke into the comm-bead again. "This is lead. Hicks, Rickmund, hold back. There may be trouble ahead, be prepared for anything. We're going to take a look."
"Copy that lead, lock n load."
A few minutes later, they reached the end of the tunnel and continued up the virtually deserted road ahead. Something wasn't right, Miriam thought. Farville was well known for its recluse inhabitants but even at this time of day there should have been more people about.
They rounded a corner as they cautiously advanced. However, they were forced to slow to a halt half way down. Someone had blocked the way with a makeshift barricade across the road. Miriam looked around at the surrounding buildings, before her eyes widened with realisation.
"Oh shit - this is a kill box," she thought aloud. Behind her, Marco already had his multilaser primed and ready to fire at a moment's notice.
"Lead, this is Hicks, we're clearing the tunnel now, over." No sooner had the message come through the comms, there was an explosion back down the road they'd come and Miriam feared the worst.
"Turn this thing around!" Miriam shouted. A second later a las bolt hit the front of the jeep.
"Sniper, 11 O'clock!" Marco bellowed as he swivelled his heavy weapon and raked the rooftop with laser fire.
From the building on the opposite side of the street, the heavy thumps of an autocannon and the deafening rattle of a heavy bolter formed a melody. Marco didn't even see what hit him, and his shredded body was blown clear of the jeep.
In front of them a grenade exploded just shy of their vehicle, even as more weapons joined the melody. A couple of plasma bolts hit the road next to Miriam, with the final one scathing her shoulder and burning away the armour there. She groaned in pain as she pulled her laspistol from its holster. Jenkins flung the steering wheel around and the nimble jeep did a swift 180 degrees turn. From nearby windows at ground-level, several figures added to the fusillade.
Bolt shells and bullets whistled past their heads or were stopped by the jeep's ablative armour. A bright object tumbled through the air and hit their windshield - a firebomb. Burning alcohol splashed over Jenkins' right side and he screamed as his skin burned, desperately trying to put himself out. Miriam returned fire with her pistol but to no avail as the vehicle veered out of control to the right. Jenkins managed to slam his foot down on the break pedal just in time to avoid careening into a building.
The corporal had barely managed to put out the flames on his arm when a shotgun shell tore through his thigh and he screamed in pain. A high-powered laser shot grazed past his head from behind, singeing the side of his helmet and burning a hole through the bullet-proof wind-shield. For a brief second Miriam's military mind acknowledged the fact that it must have been a hellgun, not surprised that they were that heavily armed after the heavy weaponry levelled against Marco mere moments before.
She scarcely had time to register the impact of a shotgun shell deflected by her flak armour before another hellgun laser blasted through her midriff armour and she cursed, pushing the strained Jenkins off the side of the jeep before crawling out after him. She gritted her teeth through the pain and fell out beside him as a flurry of shots tore up the seat she had occupied a second ago.
"We're... we're really in the shit sarge.." Jenkins gasped, his left arm smoldering and his armour blackened. His leg was a bloody mess but a quick glance confirmed the shot had missed any major arteries.
"Ten-four corporal.. don't you die on me you bastard," Miriam hissed through her gritted teeth as she put pressure on her own wound. The Emperor smiled on her she thought, realizing that had either of the two gunners that hit her aimed a bit more to one side, she'd be dead. Her shoulder hurt like hell from plasma burns and her side was in agony, but at least laser weapons cauterized on impact. Clasping a hand around the hilt of her chainsword, she prepared to fight to her last breath.
***
"Lead, this is Hicks, we're clearing the tunnel now, over," he said. Then it happened. His senses were overwhelmed with noise and the two of them jumped in their seats. Hicks instinctively slammed his foot down on the accelerator and the armoured truck trundled down the street as quickly as it could.
"Are we hit? Are we fucking hit?!" Hicks shouted.
Munro looked out through the dark-tinted window. He watched as the mouth of the tunnel collapsed and most of the road around it was now a smoking crater. His heart skipped a beat until the patrol car appeared in sight once again, over-taking them.
"We're fine, everyone's fine I think - high yield explosives back there, m-must have had a delayed fuse or something. Tunnel's gone," he said quickly, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"What d'you mean it's gone?!" Hicks exclaimed. "How can it just be--"
He was cut off when the voice of Karla filled their ears, barely audible over the ringing from the shell shock.
"Sarge is in trouble, defensive formation where the road turns," she ordered. As the faster car went past, Munro watched in horror as Kenny was shot in the back from an unseen shooter. Johnson immediately reached for his medkit to tend to the wound.
Munro was at a loss for words. Instead, he just grabbed his lasgun and slammed in a fresh power pack.
The car came to a halt at the end of the road, providing good cover as its passengers disembarked and took cover behind it. The squad began exchanging fire with targets further up the street and well aware that they had been shot at from hidden enemies near the tunnel, Hicks manoeuvred the truck so his door was facing the way they had come. The pair clambered out through the passenger side and each one hastily took up a position at either end of the truck, rifles at the ready.
With the chatter of weapons becoming omnipresent behind them, Munro glanced around the side of the truck and spotted a pair of figures cautiously moving up the street, sticking to what little cover was available. He relayed this information to Hicks via hand signal and then counted to three with his fingers. The pair stepped half out of cover and raised their lasguns. A second was all they needed to draw a bead on the hostiles and they began shooting at them.
***
Karla leapt out of the car, followed a moment later by Rickmund who grabbed his long-las on the way out. Kenny and Johnson leapt over the side of the pickup's bed and took cover. Taking in their surroundings, they had a good amount of cover, but she realised that an alley directly next to the car led right into their formation. She positioned herself in a crouch next to it and prepared her meltagun. Anyone who came down that alleyway would have to go through her.
Rickmund looked through his scope, assessing the situation. "One body near that barricade, can't tell who it is. Movement behind the jeep - somebody's alive. Sniper on top of the building on the left," he reported. The crosshair found its mark just as the other man took a shot toward them. Rickmund pulled the trigger and the target slumped out of view.
"Bastard nearly hit me," Karla observed, looking at the scorched patch on the ground a meter in front of her.
"Heavy weapons!" Rickmund called. They ducked down just as heavy bolter rounds and autocannon shells filled the air around them, many hitting the car or chipping chunks out of the road.
He waited for a pause in the barrage and then raised his rifle again, quickly aiming at where he suspected the heavy gunners were. The tracer fire was now pummelling the unmoving jeep, reaffirming his own assessment that there were survivors holed up there. Sighting a large man leaning out of a window with an autocannon, his finger curled around the trigger and he fired again. He could've sworn he hit and had to do a double take. The broad-shouldered assailant was still up. Rickmund took a moment to examine him through the scope. He was dressed in typical ganger garb and was wearing a mask over his face.
Nearby, Johnson and Kenny took aim at the second gunner, the snap-crack of their lasguns firing in unison a reassuring sound. Rickmund observed through his scope as the second figure was hit and slumped against a wall.
"Got 'im," Johnson confirmed.
Karla listened carefully during the brief pause in gunfire. She counted at least three footsteps around the corner of the alleyway. She quickly brought her weapon up and a second later a glowering man with a glowing plasma gun rounded the corner. She didn't even have to think, she just pulled the trigger and a silent beam superheated the very molecules of the air, causing a faint whistling sound that most people mistook as coming from the meltagun itself. From her crouch, she hit the man in his leg, burning away flesh and causing him to fall face first onto the floor with a thud. She cursed, wishing she'd aimed higher as two more men came into view, weapons raised.
A few meters away Rickmund spared a glance at Hicks and Munro who continued blasting at some approaching hostiles that he couldn't spot. As he looked back he spotted a new threat too late. A figure appeared in an alleyway a little further down the road and raised a plasma gun, unleashing a deadly bolt towards him. He ducked instinctively, a move that undoubtedly saved his life, but the top of his helmet melted away and he suspected he now had less hair than he had started with that morning. He cursed himself for his lack of vigilance.
***
The heavy weapons that had annihilated Marco opened up once again and Miriam risked a glance over the jeep. She spied the rest of her squad, creating a solid defensive square, using their vehicles as cover. The heavy weapons' fire strafed across the street and vehicles and Miriam offered a silent prayer to the Emperor that her soldiers were smart enough to keep their heads down.
Apparently she was spotted and the attackers refocused their bombardment towards her position. The jeep groaned as a tyre was burst and the driver's compartment was torn to pieces. Her gaze snapped back around when Jenkins screamed again. The lower part of his right foot was missing, hit by a stray bolt round. He was breathing heavily and looked at her, not knowing what to do.
"Hang in there trooper," she said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Yes.. sir.." he groaned.
Knowing she could do nothing for him right now, she pulled out her chainsword. The heavy weapons fire stopped, replaced only by the snap-crack of lasguns. Using the serrated sword to prop herself up, she forced herself to run towards a nearby alleyway about ten meters up the road.
It was better than sitting there waiting to bleed out, and judging by how many hostiles had been shooting them up earlier compared to the fact that only those two gunners who were no doubt being suppressed or put down, that meant the rest were on the move. They'd be flanking up these alleys, she guessed. After all, that's what she'd do if she were them.
As she entered the alley, a single autocannon retort accompanied a chunk of wall crumbling near her and she kept running. She heard the tell-tale sounds of a small arms and screams further up the street. Time was of the essence and she kept going, blocking out the pain.
She neared the turn-in to another alley and paused against the wall. Glancing around the corner, she counted half a dozen gangers rushing the entrenched enforcers. A snap-crack made her look up, where she saw the sniper who'd sprung the ambush leaning over the top of the building, trying to hit her. The last shot had gone wide and she didn't give him another chance. Rounding the corner, she stayed close to the wall as she charged towards the enemy.
***
"Get a fucking.. grip.." Jenkins panted, as he watched the sarge run off towards an alley. A shot nearly hit her and he cursed. He couldn't just sit here like a useless sack of shit. His lasgun lay next to him and he grabbed it with his non-burnt hand. Swinging himself around onto his knees he raised his rifle one-handed and opened up on full-auto towards the window where the autocannon was perched.
His hail of shots probably didn't hit - he could barely tell with his vision going hazy from pain - but he had that bastard pinned. If he could buy the sarge some time then that was enough. In the corner of his eye he saw another ganger with a shotgun approaching from the same building. After double checking his suppressing fire had kept the heavy gunner down, he grabbed onto the side of the jeep with his burned hand and pulled himself upright.
"We.. are the Imperial Guard," he shouted, as the ganger sprinted towards him.
"...AND WE DIE STANDING."
His features a contorted mix of pain and determination, he pulled down hard on the trigger. The power-pack beeped empty. He looked down at his weapon in confusion, realising in his dazed state he must have emptied the whole clip a moment ago. When he looked up again, the ganger had just leapt onto the back of the jeep and pointed the shotgun one-handed at Jenkins' head.
"You ain't wrong mate," the ganger said. There was a bang, and Jenkins' head was evacuated onto the wall behind him.
***
The two coming from the tunnel were close now and had thus far avoided all attempts to put them down, despite a constant stream of fire from Marco and Hicks.
"Incoming!" Hicks shouted as he dived to the floor. A grenade clanked onto the hood of the truck before exploding, sending shrapnel flying overhead. A chunk sliced his cheek and he cursed, his ears ringing. He was vaguely aware of a second grenade exploding but it was not close, presumably it had bounced off the side of the truck.
As he picked himself up, Hicks took a moment to look around. Half a dozen gangers were rushing them from a nearby alley and they were at risk of being overrun. Lasers, shells, bolts and plasma enveloped the area. The gangers were as uncoordinated with their shooting as they were unrelenting.
Rickmund took a number of hits but his well-maintained armour protected him from harm. Grunting, the sniper shot back several times, keeping the attackers at bay for a few more seconds as they tried to avoid being hit.
Munro raised his weapon and with a single well-placed shot he dropped the man who'd shot at Rickmund with a plasma gun and had just taken out a laspistol to try and finish the job.
Johnson turned to attack but a bullet hit his hand and he cried out and his aim jerked upwards, causing his fire to be ineffective.
Karla unleashed the power of her meltagun again as the two gangers rushed towards her. One caught the blast in the arm, clothes and flesh burning away. The second raised a plasma pistol and the shot went right over her head. A second later she heard Kenny scream. She had no time to check if he was okay as a bolt shell blew up in front of her and she fell back in surprise, her armour taking the brunt of the impact, leaving it mangled.
Johnson saw it too. Kens had been providing supporting fire one moment, and the next his entire upper torso was vaporised. What was left collapsed. Seething, he swore by the aquila that he'd make the bastards pay for that.
Pulling herself up, Karla barely had time to raise her meltagun above her to block a swing from a snarling chainsword. The large man who'd shot Kenny continued to take slow, lurching swings at her with it, which she dodged or turned aside. One strike caught her shoulder, shredding the armour there and scraping off skin. She recoiled in pain, her foot connecting with something familiar. Reaching down she picked it up, her hand firmly wrapped around Kenny's shock maul. With renewed determination she lunged towards her opponent. Taking him by surprise, she smacked him twice with the electro-club, but to her dismay the large man didn't succumb.
It was chaotic. The gangers were in amongst them. Hicks and Munro had been forced back to back, each one willing to die for the other... they just hadn't intended for it to be today.
"We'll make it man, we'll be big damn heroes," Hicks shouted as the two grenadiers rushed them.
One with a knife and bolt pistol slashed out at Munro who blocked with his rifle, holding it in two hands like a club.
Hicks prepared to fend off a man wielding a shock maul and he swung out with his lasgun but the ganger was fast, darting out of the way before bringing his weapon down in an over-head two-handed blow. It struck on the top of Hicks' head, smashing through the helmet and caving in his skull.
A pair of gangers fired from the hip inaccurately, missing Rickmund by a yard. He shot again but missed, unused to engaging his opponents with his long-las in such close quarters. Another ran past him and tried to decapitate the nearby Johnson with a sword, but he batted it aside with his rifle and then used the momentum to crack the side of her head open with the rifle's stock.
"That was for Kenny you whore," he spat.
Munro's concentration was broken when he saw out of the corner of his eye that his brother had crumpled, blood gushing from his head.
"You scum, I'll fucking kill you!" He screamed, swinging his impromptu club in wide arcs. The ganger with the shock maul who murdered Hicks stepped forward. Three hits came. The first deflected his clumsy, enraged attack, the second smashed the gun out of his hands and the third knocked him down to one knee. His first opponent seized the opportunity and plunged the knife deep into his stomach. Munro fell back, his eyes fixed on where his brother lay with chunks of his brain scattered across the floor. Defenceless, the gangers continued to bludgeon and stab him until he wasn't even recognisable as human.
Johnson raised his lasgun with his one usable hand and tried to kill a pair of gangers climbing over the enforcer car to get to him. He was too slow and they opened up, and he felt three bullets embed themselves in his flak armour. A high-power laser punched through it with ease however and he felt his lung puncture, fully aware of his dire state. He dropped to one knee but wouldn't allow himself to succumb to pain. He thought of Kenny. The lad had deserved so much more from this life.
Whirling round, Rickmund raised his rifle and blew a hole through the man with a hellgun who'd just shot Johnson. He grimaced, knowing he'd left himself exposed to the hostiles behind him. A second later searing plasma arced into his back and he collapsed face-down, groaning in agony as his skin bubbled away and his flak armour turned to boiling liquid that ran over his shoulders.
***
Sergeant Miriam dashed out of the alleyway and she heard a lasbolt from that damnable sniper whistle past her head. She was nearly amidst the gangers when a splutter of autocannon shells cracked the ground around her, with one catching the back of her foot and tripping her face-first into the road. She felt two teeth get knocked loose in her mouth and she spat them out as she hauled herself back up. If she stayed still she was dead. Glancing towards the road block, she saw a pair of gangers heading towards her, with both the sniper and heavy gunner preparing to ravage her.
Closing in on where the final stand was being made, Miriam knew this was a desperate fight. It had descended into a brawl, with gangers and enforcers fighting hand-to-hand or blasting each other at point-blank range.
She saw two of them beating an enforcer to a bloody pulp, and she'd watched as a bloodied ganger got to his feet, shot Rickmund with a plasma gun before standing over his body and shooting Johnson in the back with a laspistol.
A dull thud reverberated in her head as the sniper took another shot which was stopped by her helmet. Her pace did not slow, chainsword revved up. With a single ferocious strike she cut the specialist down and shouldered him out of the way. In front was another ganger, with a weapon raised to deliver a kill shot. They were both equally surprised when Rickmund got to one knee and pulled out his sidearm, pulling the trigger repeatedly. One snap shot hit the ganger in the arm and he yelped before turning to flee for his life. Apparently being murdered by a zombie was not on his agenda for the day.
Miriam dived into cover behind the car next to Rickmund and muttered thanks to him as a hail of autocannon shells obliterated the spot she'd occupied moments ago. The grizzled sniper looked down at Johnson who lay next to them clutching his torso in a futile attempt to stop blood gushing from his wounds. Further ahead, his beloved Karla was engaged in a vicious fight with a man more than twice her size who haphazardly swung a chainsword in wide arcs. Two more gangers charged towards her and his face twisted into an expression of fear for her safety.
He took a step towards her but was forced back down as a score of lasers scorched across the top of the car and he swore, glancing down the street to where one of the gangers had gotten on the jeep's multilaser. Two gangers rushed towards him but Miriam stepped in front. He spared a moment to watch her. She was deadly with her weapon of choice but he could see plain as day she was wounded and her reaction speed as slowing. He couldn't move for fear of being cut down by the multilaser and he couldn't get a clear shot past Miriam either.
The large man was growing more clumsy and Karla took advantage of his unfamiliarity with the brutal chainsword he wielded. With one strike she broke in the back of his knee, dropping him, then pummelled him in the face with the top of the mace and he toppled backwards. With a final hammering blow to the torso, the electrical charge simmering across his body took its toll and he collapsed, twitching on the ground.
Her victory was short lived as two more enemies charged towards her, forcing her back against a wall. The first ducked below several wide swings of her shock maul and scraped a knife across her armour, before punching her squarely in the face. Still reeling from the blow, her eyes opened wide in terror as a woman with blood leaking from the side of her head came at her in a flurry of blades.
Karla weakly swung out with the shock maul but the agile swordswoman ducked under the blow and then sliced her hand off with a sword. She screamed, now defenceless. All she could do was raise her arms as the blades bit into her over and over and over again before the ganger spun, plunging her sword deep into her chest with the momentum piercing straight through her armour. She choked, coughing up blood. Her killer stared into her eyes with a smile, before wrenching the blade free.
Rickmund looked on helplessly as his sergeant hacked into one ganger only for the other one to pummel her with a shock maul. This one had her on the back foot and she was tiring. He turned his head to look back at Karla and his mouth fell agape. A woman stood over her corpse, a sword dripping with Karla's blood. Rickmund didn't scream. He didn't cry out in rage. He didn't even flinch. A single tear welled in his eye, then trickled down his cheek. The brutal melee around him went out of focus. Nothing else mattered any more.
Standing, he looked up at the artificial lighting at the top of the dome. “To the grave and back,” he whispered. A dozen autocannon shells ripped into him a moment later and he fell down next to Johnson, covered in his own blood. The medic watched in horror as the dour sniper spluttered and died, before trying to rise to his feet. The pain in his chest was too severe and he fell down again, moaning in overwhelming agony.
Miriam felt her body trying to collapse, but she couldn't allow herself to succumb to the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness. Swing, thrust, parry, counter. Swing, thrust, turn aside, slice. She summoned up her deepest reserve of strength and prepared to unleash it on her last opponent. Then another one appeared to the right – she couldn't fend them both off.
Desperately attempting to change her strike into a parry, her reaction was too slow and a shock maul smashed into her hand and she dropped her chainsword. She ducked under a savage blow from the first man which caught her helmet and tore it off. The second came in again, wielding two mauls like some kind of berserker. Off-balance and disarmed, she began backing up but tripped over the body of Rickmund, falling against the side of the enforcer car. The dual-wielder brought his mauls down three times; the first cracking her armour and the next two, a double attack, smashing through it. The two weapons slammed into her chest simultaneously with the force of a freight train, crushing her torso against the car. Doubling over, she dropped to her knees and tasted the hot metallic tang of blood as it started dripping out of her mouth.
Sergeant Miriam had never lost anyone under her command, until today. They were all dead. She had failed them, but they had not failed her. They died doing their duty, to the last breath. Looking upwards she stared into the blank masks of her two executioners.
“Get on with it,” she sneered, more blood trickling out of her mouth. The first one reached down, picked up Rickmund's discarded laspistol and put it against her forehead. The barrel was still warm. She closed her eyes, and thought of the Emperor. Then nothing.
***
