Heartbreak117

  Croug, with most of my body protected by my carapace shield, I hum a barely audible tune as I wait for the metallic steps to approach. Behind me, Weiss is brag her srifle against the wall with half of her body hidden in a recess. Sergeant Johnson is a bit behio my right, using what seems to be the remains of a makeshift barricade as a cover. Other members of my Ptoon are also setting up positions in some dead-end crew quarters, either to poke out and ehe enemy or are on standby for when a member o reload. Other than that, ohird of the Special on Squad is positioned in a small hallway. They form a makeshift barricade using some furniture from the crew quarters to set up a fighting position there. Afterward, they set up the heavy stubber they're carrying down on a bipod, thus log dowire hallway.

  Simir to how we Guards have made the front area into a hasty kill zohe Samanders uu'shan also form an overpping field of fire to protect our rear. Meanwhile, Mama's and Tsavorae's Sisters of Battle are tasked with sh up our fnks and to reinforce either of the Guards or the Space Marines, if the situation calls for it. Given that there are only seds left before the first unknoear down my corridor, I think erformed quite well in f a defensive position. As for why we don't just send someoo be an aggressive scout, doing so would be the height of foolishness. We have her the floor pns for the Battlestar nor an accurate intelligence package on whoever or whatever is still roaming these decks. Speaking of which...

  As expected, the first active things to e into view are no humans, but mere facsimiles of one of the most widespread bipeds in this grimdark gaxy. Much like the broken-down husks that were their patriots, these kers in front of us seem to be barely ging to life. Their e exterior is marred with battle damage, negligence, and whatever the things that are floating in the air. Everything about them seems unnatural and mismatched like they're made to to a singur puzzle, yet each uses pieces of different quality to do so. One ker has a cracked mono-eye visor as on its head, yet its arms seem remarkably intact. Another one has scorched and cracked armor ptes everywhere, saved for its torso which remains in near pristine dition. Pulling on my wealth of knowledge, both gifted and learned, I hazard an assumption that the surviving kers ibalized disabled or deactivated ones for parts. It's unknown for how long the Pegasus has been cast adrift, but it must be quite some time for the humao be dried husks and the kers to mutite themselves. I still feel like we're missing something, but the mystery will have to be solved on another occasiht now, the kers have just leveled their gun-equipped arms at us.

  "tact!" I shout as I align the ser dot of my spistol on the head of the ker with the cracked visor.

  All at once, multiple ser beams cut down the first rows of kers as most of the 3rd Ptoon and I ehe enemy piling down our front. While the kers' armor may prove to be effective, somewhat, against ials .45 Ad 9 mm Parabellum, they stand no ce against a shower of sers. In a show of mastery, and partly enhanced by my Battle Meditation skill, nearly all the s shots made by 3rd Ptoons are either headshots or ter-mass shots. It's nigh impossible to miss in such a fined corridor, and for the first time in a long time, 3rd Ptoon enjoys a 100% hit rate, at least for a short while. When the lumbering kers are cut down by more than a dozen, they wise up and spool up their ons in advance. Whenever a new ker rounds their er, they do so with both guns bzing. At first, the kers only mao squeeze their triggers for half a sed befoing down. However, as more and more kers e out of the woodwork, the density of fire is driven to an unfortable level. Their kiic ons stantly unleash a withering hail of lead that forces some of my peers to abandon their positions altogether. This, as one easily surmise, brings about a noticeable redu in firepower.

  "By the Emperor!" Weiss pins as she tucks her full body behind the recess in the wall. Bullets of unknown caliber strike where she's hiding, causing some fragmentations to bounce harmlessly against my gear. "Don't they ever run out of ammo!?"

  I chuckle as bullets strike my Bck Steel in futility, my full body is hidden out of view thanks to the shield and my small body size. "Maybe they're ag out on a pict-series or something. One never o reload on the s."

  Weiss looks at me as if I had grown a sed head by joking while actively in the line of fire. On my part, being fired is but auesday, and that recaf Mama gave me to hit the spot just enough for me to be in the mood for mayhem.

  A bullet strikes a bit too close for fort at Weiss' position wheries to blind fire her srifle, causio pin. "Argh, dang it! They're getting a bit too close for fort."

  I lightly reply. "Eh~, don't worry. It's either Mama will e to bail us out or Johnson decides that he has had enough."

  "Yeah, well, I really have had enough, girl!" Johnson barks out a ugh, shouting behind our position. "Scorpin, my boy! Light 'em up with the noob tube! The rest of you, suppressive fire!"

  I smirk while sparing Weiss a gnce. "You heard the boss, full-auto all the way!"

  "FROM CADIA WITH LOVE, BABY~!"

  The kers, stepping over the carcasses of their fallen and still holding dowriggers, are suddenly assaulted by the melting curtain of red light. The Guards of 3rd Ptoon don't eveo aim their srifles, they only o poke their ons out of their hidy-holes and fire. Our enemy have jammed themselves to the point that their corpses are interfering with their mobility, making the robots sitting ducks and prime pigs. In the blink of ahe walls of lead that have been suppressing our position colpse. This allows one of the Specialists in 3rd Ptoon, Scorpin, to reveal herself from her cover, pointing her drum-fed grenade uncher de. With three resounding thumps, she sends three 57 mm frag gre a dense formation of kers by the corridor interse. Barely a sed ter, three secutive bsts decimate the kers' position. The culminated shockushes a dust and debris rushing down the length of the corridor.

  "Holy Terra!" Weiss screams while shielding her helmet from the rolling dust cloud. "Ein, you ok!?"

  The Rookie turns to my position, only to see that I have disappeared from where I once was. With haste, Weiss ss the corridor, only to see that the kers are also attag positions held by Space Marines and Sisters of Battle. However, I am with her of them. In fact, I am now rushing ahead like a battering ram.

  "The Emperor protects..." Muttering a soft prayer with a small smile, I dash through the dust cloud.

  Immediately, I e to see a damaged ker beh my feet. Without stopping my momentum, I stomp hard on its neck joint, crushing its critical servos and separating its head from the rest of the half-melted body. Like a professional football pyer, I use my leg to juggle the decapacitated head once before kig it with force slightly to my left. The flying head accelerates and accurately bashes another ker, crag its visor as the rest of the body crashes backward. With my trusty spistol in my right hand, I finish off the downed enemy with a precise shot through its ned head.

  The uping interse has kers standing both left and right and seemingly out of view. Yet, I mao still make out their general postures and locations by using a bination of my instind the water vapor in the air. The tter, in particur, is a very creative application of my Abyss Totem Stigma. That said, I pat myself on the back ter. Now is the time to burst some e heads in.

  Running forward till the very end, I pull the pin of a frag greached to my vest using my left hand. Instead of throwing the explosive right off the bat, I let my caffeinated veins take the lead and cook the hot potato. As the batch of kers starts moving to fill in the space left behind by their fallehren in the corridor, I lower my ter of gravity and slide the st stretch of the way. The kers, thinking that whoever is running at them is up at their level i, mistakenly align their gun arms in the wrong elevation. Nobody expects a small Guardswoman to e sliding their way with a shield.

  Before the two kers correct the alig of their guns, I bring up my spistol and swiftly shoot the two of them in the heads, the right one first then the left one. Before the two ker's corpses even colpse, I use the momentum geed from the turning of my body to toss my well-cooked frag grenade down to the left hallway. There, a fresh batch of kers are f ranks to move and attack my unit. Smming Bck Steel, my trusty shield down on the floor, my shield pointi, I stop my slide and e to a crouch. Trusting my shield to cover the whole of my body ining fire from the left, I raise my spistol to swiftly elimihe remaining threats to the right. I barely squeeze out three more pistol kills, when the grehrew exploded, taking with it around a Squad of kers. Not even looking at the aftermath of the explosion, I finish draining the rest of the energy pa my spistol to kill off the st of the kers to my right. Pressing the magazine release button, I flick the drained energy pack out of my pistol.

  I am uo reload the spistol in time when footsteps of rumblials rapidly approach my left fnk. From the er of my eyes, I see a ker's metallic fist ing down to strike me. Ag on ingrained instinct, I use Bck Steel to parry the blow away. Using my left leg as a pivot, I sweep out with my right and knock the damaged ker off its feet. Not letting it catch a breather, I rise up before moving to sm my trusty carapace shield down on its torso. The fory blow caves the robot's chest in, causing critical damage that disables its upper limbs. Seeing that it only move its head now, I calmly reload my spistol with one hand, using a spare energy pay battle belt. As the ker moves its red optical sensor to look at me, I point the business end of my on at its head.

  "In a way, I am doing you a favor..." I then mouth the st word to the robot, not g whether it see my lips movement or not.

  '.'

  I squeeze the trigger, melting a hole through the visor of the st ker in this part of the ship. I have no idea how many of them are still left, but this won't be the st of them. I hope the other team won't enter any loss in an e with these kers.

  Rising to my full height, I e to see the full effey Blitz. I 't help but whistle. "Now, that's a lotta damage~!"

  I turn to look back at where the rest of my unit is, only to stht where I am when I e face to face with Chapter Master Tu'shan's power armor. Before I even say or do anything, Tu'shan brings out one of his fists, only to form it into a universal gesture of goodwill.

  A freaking thumbs up.

  Then, Mama appears from behind Tu'shan's eclipsing form, g with her armored hands.

  "As expected of my daughter, giving you recaf lendid idea."

  It doesn't have to be said that I hear Weiss' groan all the way over here.

  Heartbreak117