Nine. Nine. Acceptable losses. The Kommandos will maim more than nine if they are left alive. 780 will tend to the wounded later--if there was...
The shots were not true, but it matters naught in the end. The Emperor's light will prevail over the foul xenos, and the filth of their ichor...
Time passes in a blur when one's hands were not bloody. 780 would be a rare sight to Squad Gamma until the for war returned. Drills. Drills....
Inhuman. Filth. @Keidivh “Fetch the Commissar.” 780 orders as Savan approaches. A custom. Regulation. 780’s ridged frame would be a stark...
Strength in numbers. An extra set of helping hands. A boon from the God-Emperor. The voice came, dry, muffled, from under a war-weary skull mask,...
A sharp salute. A nearly invisible nod of thanks. 780 is dismissed. There is work to do. For the next several hours the Quartermaster disappears,...
Always. Always. Always work to do A quartermaster’s job is never completed. Every moment another soldier falls. His equipment destined for a...
Barron's hands fidgeted nervously across the familiar machinations of his chainsword as he sat, scrunched in his seat. A preferable ritual than...
Dedication, if nothing else. Commendable. Barron momentarily finds himself trapped by his own strategy as the axe unexpectedly swings back his...
No grace. No thought. No chance. Pathetic. No flinch from Barron as the scout shifts his weight backward in an instant, tended muscles exploding...
Ah, Aridan. One of the brothers Barron had hoped to spar with, he must admit. The scout held his fellow Zeussinite in high regard: With their...
The days dripped drearily by. Each day brought nought but exhaustion and suffering. There were mutters. Jeers. Simmering discontentment gnawing at...
Not. Enough. Prayer. The pain tears it’s way up Barron’s back and for a second, the world glows white hot with agony. How does Tiro do it? Is...
“That may be ill-advised, Sarge,” Barron mumbles to himself as the jaws of death race his way, its iron teach gnawing and chomping the earth...
This… In all honesty, this was all just a tad more complicated than Barron expected. He stared at the array of buttons and controls on front of...
My, what a conundrum. His fellow scouts could definitely use the extra hands, that much was undeniable. They were but scouts in the midst of a...
Even as the crowd swarmed around him, The scout felt no panic. No, the feeling that had filled Barron now was pride, a sense of macabre...
Barron was about to scramble off the ground and charge the remaining heavy gun servitor, but between both Garrick and Tiro it seemed like the...
"Brother," The chainsword in Barron's hand ceased its rumbling for an instant as called out after Tiro, more so out of principle than anything...
A nod, and Barron was hot on Tiro's trail, bobbing in and out of view as the fabric of his cloak shifted with each step. Though there seemed to be...
