Description
"The tower loomed over them all, a rickety structure of steel and wire shooting skywards like a needle, weakly shining against the brown and blackened overcast. Though the sky wasn’t what Trooper Waterford was focusing in. Instead he along with his fellow soldiers were transfixed upon the enemy lines ahead that surged towards them. Las and stubber fire shot overhead in a blistering criss cross of colour. Behind them their mortar platoon frantically lobbed their shells into the enemy waves in crumpeting blasts of fire and shrapnel. Shuddering, Waterford staggered to his feet and followed the line of the trench along to the firing parapet. There, his fellow Zameeni stood, weapon resting on the orange/brown clay that they had piled around their defences. “I got power packs!” He yelled, jiggling the haversack that hung from his neck. Helmeted heads turned and grubby fingers reached out to snatch the rectangular packs out his hands and his bag to be slapped into lasrifles. “Thank The Emperor” muttered one of his sergeants, his features hidden, like all his fellow soldiers by a rasping environmental mask, against the irritated and chemical laced dirt. “I was starting to run low” “Have the traitors moved any further?” He asked anxiously, peering over the battered and scorched parapet. “They’re pushing. It’s mainly cultists and milita. Someone set up autocannons and stubbers at the tower base and it’s got us pretty much pinned” There was the sound of a rocket being launched, that made Waterford wince. “Just great” he moaned before pressing on. Above the trenches he could see the solid shape of a Chimera, blasting away with its multilaser in a stream of red light. Bullets deflected off its chassis in a spray of lights and sparks, unable to penetrate.
He continued to stagger on, the muddy floor sucking at his boots, before stopping as he heard a sizzle of flesh A man holding a rocket launcher stood behind him, his face hidden behind a mask. His chest glowed as flames licked at his uniform around the hissing hole in his breast. Waterford stared, his eyes wide behind the lenses of his mask, as the man gasped before collapsing to the dirt. He stood there, locked in placed before he heard a loud, female voice piercing through the din. “Hold the line Zameeni!” Bellowed a figure in black, waving a bolt pistol above her head. “Keep the bastards down in the dirt!” Waterford watched her, rallying the troopers around her as they unleashed a fresh volley of their searing bolts onto the incoming enemy, bellowing war cries and encouragement to own another. The trooper felt the urge to fight back swell inside him, as he turned and ran back towards the supply trucks. More ammunition would be needed."
mini-story written by :
the Zameeni by:
www.deviantart.com/arafridi200…
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800 M.41 Boreale System, Southern Scianth. The Zameeni 10th pushes beyond Imperial controlled landing zone designated "Grena." They would be supported in their operations but that support would prove inadequate over the course of the battle. While the Zameeni fight alone, the other elements of the Crusade force fought in what would be known as the first battle of the Maw.
Boreale Crusade is by
more Scianth info here
www.deviantart.com/lordcarmi/a…