Chapter 3: Desperate Situation, Astounding Revelation(R-18 gore)

Author: Black_Evil

Chapter 3: Desperate Situation, Astounding Revelation.

———-(First Person POV)———-

"Guardsman! Affix bayonets! Affix bayonets!"

The shout thundered across trench lines, chilling every guardsman within the vicinity to foresee their immediate demise. After all, none of the previous charges had done anything except waste guardsmen's lives.

"We are going to charge? Again?! Fuck! The last charge didn't even make a dent! Motherfucker! " Merrick, the newly graduated cadet with a baby face in our squad couldn't help himself from cursing. He was a 'new recruit' in every sense of the word, his uniform mostly clean and free of fellow guardsman splattered guts, his liveliness, and a bit of rebellious nature that ensures a guardsman recruit death rate of 2/5 from their commissar.

"Shush! You idiot! If the Commissars hear even a peep of audacity they'll make Emperor-damned SURE you never see the sun again!" Gordon back on my left side hissed at the poor recruit. Gordon was in charge of squad fire support, and he was the most experienced of us in the squad, and by experience—I, of course, meant him having lived through one battle and two skirmishes with the bluies.

This was already a great feat since those bastards' insane aim ensured that anyone who survived a firefight with them was an Emperor-blessed.

"Merrick, keep your head down! Eyes straight! And remember! Once you're out on the field. DO. NOT. STOP. RUNNING!" Laurey who had already affixed his bayonet turned to Merrick giving him a warning for his and everyone else's sake. Laurey was our squad marksman, and Emperor's most devout in the squad. Most of us wondered why he didn't just become a commissar with how often he'd scold the squad.

"Capt'an…." Merrick turned to me, the last bit of resistance fading as he found no support amongst his squad. Who could blame them? Their recruit days ended the first time they saw death grab them by the balls and play roulette with it.

I could only give a down nod, with silent prayer bated in my breath; I readied myself mentally for the horrors I would experience.

———(3rd person POV)———- (Trigger Warning: Gore and depiction of cruelty)

The guardsman prepared, with thousands of them affixing bayonets in a minute; a testament to their disciplined spirit as the Emperor's most courageous shield.

They who were regular men and women–armed with only paper-thin flak armor and a weapon so primitive, that it was called a 'flashlight' by many of their enemies– would charge the horrors of the world, fueled with passion, hatred, love, and faith in the Emperor and all that was Mankind's right to dominance in the galaxy.

Fury brewing in their hearts, they waited with bated breath–anxiety and adrenaline at this point had become synonymous–for the commissars' command to charge up the trench and meet the enemy face to face.

The guardsman knew that many of them would die, that blood spilled was a sacrifice necessary for victory, for humanity's dominance, for the Emperor's glory–and most dearly, for peace. If they sacrificed themselves today, tomorrow might be a different day for those they left behind on Europa VI.

As they prepared themselves, the all too distinct 'whistle of death' blew from the commissar's mouth, sealing the thousands and thousands of guardsman's fate to either die or attain victory; for retreat was never thought of in the first place.

—WHISTLE!—

"W-WAAAAHH!"

"For the Emperor!"

"DIE XENO SCUM!"

Numerous war cries rang throughout the lines, men and women ran forward to the jaws of all-consuming death. Dozens upon dozens fell dead or wounded within the first few seconds of combat–if you could call a one-sided massacre combat–and many more soon followed.

–BOOM–

Artillery shots whizzed by— friendly and foe– the imperium was never reputed for its weapon accuracy or maintenance, so friendly fire wasn't uncommon. The booms and blasts were deafening the guardsman's war cries and ears.

—Drrrrghhh—

Where Man charged, Machine followed; rows and rows of Leman Russ-type tanks and a few bane blades charged alongside their human comrades.

Metal tracks and hoof prints covered the ground with a cacophonous biting sound; like furious rain pouring down, drumming against the ground.

The imperium-led faction was as if a bee hive had been disturbed and a swarm had descended; buzzing with murderous intent even if the consequence was death.

—WOOOOSH—

Fighters and planes above the sky blocked out the sun; reigning the emperor's fury upon His foes. Laying payloads upon payloads of ordnance upon the Xenos forces.

—Crack!—

The battlefield was filled with the sounds of cracking, with bolts of lasgun and railgun exchanging fire; a single hit caused utter evisceration to any target it hit.

Men screamed bloody as their guts poured out, their eyes turned to jelly, and bones turned to dust, pain, and agony galore; their friends and brothers could do nothing but pray for their swift death.

Some kind samaritans even took upon the sacred duty to deliver the emperor's mercy upon the wounded; lassing them in the head before moving on to keep charging. This was a mercy many guardsmen felt gratitude for, as they were suffering fates worse than instant death.

All anyone could do at this moment was pray that the emperor was watching, that He would take mercy upon those souls and show them the kindness they'd never experienced while being part of the living.

—Hell!

A nameless guardsman thought as they bled out from a railgun shot obliterating their lower half. No amount of morphine or drugs could save them now.

—Glory!

A fanatic laughed, weaving past dead comrades as they sprinted across the open field; they desired nothing but the Emperor's embrace, willing to do anything.

—Family!

A guardsman born of a merchant remembered; their family living in the hive city behind them. If they failed to stop the Xenos, who knows what would happen to them?

Despite all the chaos and confusion, in the grim darkness of the 41st Millennium, no matter your race, age, faith, or motivation; you were all equal, as there was only… war.

—————————————————

—————————

"How is it that a mere contingent of these 'Tau' Xenos is holding off our advances?! We have spent 13.5 million guardsmen but only gained meager results!"

The Lord-General Militant who was responsible for the star system's astra militarum barked rabidly at the generals present through his vox caster.

They were having a meeting concerning the situation on Europa VI, the sixth planet in the star system.

"Because of your INCOMPETENCE, I will soon breach the supply contract with the Mechanicus! Can any of you afford such a blunder?! The only good thing about this backward—TURD of a solar system was that it had rare mineral resources!" The Lord Militant foamed at the mouth through the vox; with venomous spite and disdain aimed at all the generals present. If he was there in person, the generals were sure they'd be physically beaten as well as verbally.

Amongst the generals seated on the semi-circle table, General Aliza, in particular, had a hardened face, with growing tension flickering between her sharp angular face, and quiet rage brewing in her amethyst eyes. She looked both fierce and stone-hearted as if daring any to look into her smoldering gaze.

—Why?

Because Hive City Kraken II was the main point of contact—the bulwark—against the encroaching Xenos. All blame could—would—be placed against her if she showed failure. Not to mention the unsaid fact that the bloated mass of flesh and sycophant of a Lord General Militant found her as his favorite eye candy and would demand her to recompense him with a 'bedding contract' if she didn't prove up to the task.

The only things stopping him from doing so would be the fact that he was recently appointed to his position and that his political clout didn't quite reach this far from Terra.

Taking a deep breath, General Aliza calmed her nerves, taking a sip of water from her standard-issued canteen. She had to remove her glowering thoughts, or else she feared she would not be able to hold in the rage—speaking in such a tone would immediately sentence her to a life of servitude as a pleasure maid.

"My 'dear' General, if you would allow me to speak!" Aliza affectionately addressed the High-General with a wince, calling him 'dear' and placated the man-child to listen instead of nitpick and continue nagging. It was from long and frustrating conversations with the Lord General that she gathered such wisdom.

Still, it was disgusting for her to say, especially in front of her peers.

"The Xenos scum are quite resolved to stay, despite our best efforts—we simply cannot force them out with what we currently have in our possession! We beseech the honorable, magnanimous, and affectionate Lord Militant for him to bless us with the Emperor's gifts. So that we may continue in our crusade!" Aliza said so with such fervor that it seemed as if she genuinely believed what she said; even the other generals who had more experience with her couldn't help being fooled.

"So you want reinforcements?! But why should I?! Besides—I've been getting bored in this backward system and desire to go back to Terra!" Despite being a bit pig-headed, the Lord Militant was intelligent enough to pick up what Aliza requested. But he saw no rhyme or reason as to why he should accept her request; after all, was using up the favors his family had given him really worth it to save a solar system's worth of profits?

His family as one of the High Lords of Terra easily owned multiple rich and powerful solar systems; he had no worries of being poor. He could easily return to Terra and live a long life of 300 years in peace and abundance.

The concern for the billions of people in that solar system and the countless lives across the imperium who depended on it to provide them with what they desperately needed had never even crossed the Lord Militant's mind; as he had no pity or sympathy for those of lower castes. They were no different from servitors to him.

Aliza felt a rise of panic in her chest, she knew she was running out of options—but she soon calmed down; she still had a card to play. A card she knew would instantly grant her everything she desired from the Lord Militant. It was going to be dangerous, and could possibly get her killed—or worse—if things didn't work as planned; the card was a double-edged sword she was saving for a rainy day.

That rainy day was today it seemed.

But first, she needed to throw the hook.

"My 'dear' Lord,"

Aliza beckoned with a mysterious smile and a voice of temptation, schemes cooking and brewing in her head. She knew she HAD to convince him to reinforce her, otherwise with the recent failures of her Imperial guard; the other generals would pounce on her the moment they saw weakness. She had a card, but having the Lord Militant's attention focused on her at this tense moment was dangerous nonetheless, but who said that nothing in this world was without danger? And who said that nothing was dangerous without an equally rewarding opportunity?

"Speak woman! What is it?!" The Lord Militant gave her a flimsy opportunity.

He bit the hook.

—Now the line.

"Throughout the war, we have observed the Xenos behavior…. How they have moved from location to location in small parties, with the only noticeable traces of their presence being frantically dug holes and excavations, with some other pieces of evidence. We believe they were searching for something." Aliza spoke slowly and methodically, making sure to pave the tension in the room by making eye contact with the generals present.

"What is it that they're looking for?! Don't waste my time woman!" The Lord Militant was ready to flip a table feeling like he had been deceived.

—Finally, sinker.

"S…T...C," Aliza spoke each letter with a savoring taste, as if the wonderful feeling would disappear the moment she hurried.

"We believe they are looking for an STC my 'dear' general."

—Hook

—Line

—Sinker

The whole room seemed to have been hit with a stun grenade.

—————————————-

Notes: I know some of you might want the story to go back to the protagonist, but lemme cook the plot and background first. This being a 40K fan-fiction means there's going to be 2-5 different things going on at the same time and some of them will intersect to form bigger plot lines. I am trying to make this a multi-dimensional story with strong OC characters alongside cannon characters (I believe it's kind of lazy to rely completely on pre-made characters, since that takes away a lot of the fun of developing characters for yourself, since you can just read a wiki to instantly understand the character). Aliza is just one of many to come. But don't worry, OCs won't overshadow cannon characters and vice versa; I still plan on fully utilizing the rich and developed characters of 40K.

I also tried making a imperial guard fight scene, I am gonna have to try improving on that somehow. I will probably try a first person POV to help.

I am a super ambitious writer, so wish me luck because I am probably trying to go beyond what my current limits as a newbie writer are.

Now all that's off the chest, I was able to finish this chapter pretty quickly since I had 1/3 of it already done.

I am not at my house right now, so my editing was choppy (I am using a phone) so I'll fix some things later and if I don't please point it out to me!

Have a damn good day!