Chapter 51: Rallying point

I was out of breath when we finally stopped moving, and my heart felt like it was fit to burst. My nerves had been pushed to the brink, and my body was not happy about it. Even now, in the relative calm, I couldn't bring myself to relax. Half the platoon was still embroiled in a fight behind us, I had to remind myself. The Cadian's made sure to secure our position before asking Andermark for orders. It seemed he was now the de facto leader. What an ironic twist of fate.

"Vox, get me the vox," he said, waving Christef over. Christef was coated in sweat and blood, but he obliged. He made it three steps before his head exploded, and everyone screamed.

"SNIPER, GET DOWN!" Andermark yelled. Everyone ducked, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement in the rubble. It was the sniper, the same one I'd hit earlier. They were still alive. Damn it, I hadn't killed them, and now they'd gotten someone else!

"Where the hell are they?" Portford sword, clutching his chainsword. Andermark peered around him, but couldn't place them.

"Down there, in the rubble, by the one on the right with the fire on top," I said, pointing. Andermark looked in that direction.

"Are you sure?"

A sniper shot fired from the rubble and took a Cadian's head off. Andermark nodded.
"I think you're right," he said slowly. He raised his plasma pistol, but winced when he burnt his hands. He looked at the gun and shrugged.

"Best not," he murmured. Portford, several metres behind us, yelled out for the sniper to show themselves. We all waited to see what happened, and shrugged when a few seconds of silence passed. It was worth the effort.

Another sniper shot was fired from another rubble pile, this time narrowly missing the loud mouthed sergeant. He laughed as the shot sailed past his head.

"Ha! Close one!" He guffawed. His men laughed with him, even though the sniper had already killed one of them. Were all Cadian's utterly insane?

Where was that goddamn sniper? How were they moving around without being seen? Were there multiple?

In the strained silence, we could hear the sounds of the battle down the street. Around the corner, half our platoon was battling for their lives against their own ambush. The only thing between us and them was one lousy sniper.

I saw Ratfinch crawling forward, his own sniper in hand, looking for the enemy. Andermark went to throw a grenade, then huffed when he realised he had none left. This was ridiculous. There had to be at least thirty of us, surely one of us could see where they were?

"You lot, get into those stores and flank them," Andermark said, pointing to Prassus, Egeers and I, who were all crouched behind the same slab of concrete. We nodded. The sniper shouldn't be able to see us here, so if we were quick, we'd make it to the stores without them getting the chance to hit us.

We ran for the storefront, expecting at any moment to be hit by a sniper round, but none came. We ran into the store and crouched behind the wall, guns raised, panning the room. It looked like a children's toy store, filled with stuffed animals, toy car, train and planes, and cartoony action figures. Prassus and Egeers looked around at their surroundings like they were in some alien world. We were, of course, but they seemed more shocked by the amount of toys there were around them.
"What is this place?" Egeers asked, picking up a stuffed cartoon…thing. It looked like a bear…or a panda, but it was bright blue and pink.

"Toy store?" I said.

"A store…that sells only toys? Rich pricks," Prassus spat. Egeers nodded.

"Come on, we can't stay here, we have to keep moving," I said, and they nodded. We crept forward and darted from this store to the next. This one had a caved in roof, and barely any hint of what it was before. It looked like it might have sold kitchenware. That, or this is where the rebels had been camped out, judging by all the saucepans and cook pots lying around. Egeers picked up some packets of berries and stuff them down his shirt. I told him he probably shouldn't eat them, but he just shrugged.

"If I can't eat them, I'll just trade them," he said.
"Trade them for what?" Prassus hissed.

"Better food," Egeers shrugged.

Shaking my head, I kept moving forwards. There was another sniper shot, followed by a volley of lasfire. There was some scrambling in the ruins outside the shop as someone moved about. I held up my hand to get them to stop.

"Shhh," I whispered softly, finger on my lips. The others stopped and listened. There was some more scrambling, and then suddenly a figure in black and grey camo crept into the store. That was them, the sniper!

I squeezed my rifles trigger, and took the sniper down with a single shot to the chest. They collapsed to the ground with a rather high-pitched shriek. Almost too high pitched…

"Nice work," Prassus said.

"WE GOT THEM!" Egeers yelled.

But I wasn't listening. Slowly approaching the body, I rolled them over with my boot, then knelt down and yanked off their headgear. Soft, auburn hair fell over their face. The sniper was a woman, and she was still alive.

"Imperial…dogs," she wheezed. I blinked. So, I really could understand everyone, because she definitely wasn't speaking gothic.

"They're still alive?" Prassus said, joining me. Egeers frowned and aimed his gun at her, but I held him back.

"I want to see what she has to say," I told him. Egeers glared at me.

"She's a heretic, don't listen to her, just kill her," he said.

"I'm…not…a heretic," she hissed, looking at us with burning hatred. "You are…traitors to humanity."

Now she was speaking low gothic. I had no idea how I could tell, since it all sounded like English to me, but I just could. The others growled and went to shoot her, but I held them back again.

"What are you doing? We should kill her, she's a heretic!" Prassus said, wrenching his gun away.

"We should interrogate her, first," I said. I wasn't comfortable in just executing people. Now that the battle was over, it suddenly seemed wrong to just kill her, even though the hole I'd blown through her torso would probably do that anyway. Killing someone when they were at our mercy…and a woman, no less, it seemed…wrong. Distasteful, to say the least. Evil, in my opinion.

"You…are just puppets. Kids…told to fight…who they want. The Imperium…is…for slaves," she coughed, trying to cover her wound. I felt a pang of guilt. She was clearly no older than any of us. In fact, she might even be younger. She might have killed several people, but what else was she meant to do? Her world was under attack, of course she'd fight back against the invaders..

But her language troubled me. I'd been wanting to know who our enemy was, what motivated them, why they were fighting against us, for some time now. I wanted to know if these were just ordinary rebels, or something…worse. The way she was talking made me feel like I was uncomfortably close to finding the answer.

"You rejected the Imperium. Surely you knew this would happen?" I said, crouching down beside her. She looked at me with a look of absolute loathing. I tried not to let it bother me, but it did. I don't know why I felt that way, after all, in her eyes, I was the same as all the others, an invader from another world. I felt the need that I had to explain it all to her, that this was all one big misunderstanding, that I had wanted no part in this and that I didn't really hate her, but I held my tongue.

"No, you…abandoned…us," she hissed. "The Imperium…abandoned…us…"

"She's speaking lies. The Imperium never abandons anyone. Let me kill her, her wretched lies offend me," Egeers growled, but this time Prassus was the one who stopped him.

"Let her speak. I want to hear the depths of her delusions," he said. The sniper coughed, and tried to smile, but could only wince in pain.

"I'll…tell you…nothing. The Imperium…abandons us. Only…only He…only He remains," she whispered. I realised she was dying right before my eyes, and I was to blame.

"He? Who is he? Your heathen god?" Egeers sneered. The sniper shook her head.

"Our god…is your god. The Emperor," she wheezed, "and…he…he will hate you for what you have done today."

That was too much for Egeers to handle. He dropped his gun, ducked under Prassus's arms and drew his knife. Before I could stop him he'd slit her throat, cutting it open in one swift slash. Red arterial blood sprayed everywhere, hot, warm blood splashing across my face. I recoiled in disgust and alarm, looking at Egeers like he'd gone made. He stood over her body and spat on her dying face. The sniper died with her face contorted in shock.

"What the hell was that for?" I hissed. "Why did you do that?"

"She was a heretic. It's what she deserved," Egeers said, wiping the blood off his knife. Prassus stared at him for a second, then nodded.

"Yeah…yeah, he's right," he said after a moment, as if coming to terms with it, "he's right."

He most definitely was not, but I wasn't about to start a row, not here. Besides, I was the one who shot her, it was because of me she didn't die on the spot…but still…that was so violent. And unnecessary.

A handful of Cadian's came into the store behind us, then smiled and laughed when they saw we'd got the sniper. They nodded and cheered us on, clapping us on the back for a job well done, and Prassus and Egeers smiled and basked in the praise. I just stood there numbly, staring at the dead body, watching the blood seep from the wound in her neck, dull to the praise being heaped on me.

"Not a fan of death, eh?" Andermark said suddenly, and I blinked. I didn't realise he was standing next to me. I shook my head.

"I don't think anyone is," I said.

"No one normal is, let me tell you that," he said, pulling one of his cigars from his pocket and lighting it. He puffed out a huge cloud of smoke before continuing.

"I've lost six people from my squad today. You've lost three. Four and seven makes eleven, a good number for a squad, so from now on you lot and my lot are the same, yeah? I'm your sergeant now, at least until we can get someone official to set things straight."

"I…sir, yes, sir," I said. Andermark grunted.

"Right, well, I don't know much about your squad, so I'll have you give me the rundown sometime later. Right now, we've got to go get the rest of our platoon out of this mess. Can't sit around here and wait for them to come to us, yeah?"

"Sir, yes, sir," I said. Andermark slapped me on the shoulder and told me to get the squad together. We were moving off to rescue the others immediately.

"So…he's our new sergeant?" Prassus said. I nodded.

"He seems like a good man," Egeers said. I didn't say anything to that.

The rest of the squad took it well, more or less. There was some confusion as we were now working with four people we barely knew. Ziya, Harrot, Adat and Jahan. We'd trained with them before, of course, but we barely knew each other, at least compared to how well the squad knew each other. But we had no time to get acquainted, as Andermark, and the rest of the squads assembled, were going back into the streets to lend a hand to the rest of the platoon, leaving behind only a handful of trusted men and women to guard our position and keep an eye on our rear, in case any more rebels tried to take us on.

Walking past the burning wrecks of the Chimera, I realised how blasted apart they were, and how close we'd come to a grisly, fiery death. Andermark was careful to steer us clear of the place where Alexei's and Burtrus' bodies where, which I was silently thankful of. Desmond's ruined body was hauled out of the way by one of the Cadian's, who dumped it irreverently in a heap with a pile of burnt bodies from one of the Chimera. Andermark kept us moving the whole time. Now was not the time to pay respects, he said. That'd come later. Heading into the buildings, the sounds of the battle intensified. The Cadian's had rearmed themselves with grenades scavenged from the rebels and were ready to take the next set of enemies on.

There were flashes of ruby light, the bright red glare of laser fire, followed by the snapping bursts of machine guns and regular ballistic weapons. We were getting close now, we could even hear the shouts from the fight and feel the ground shake from the explosions.

Then we saw the first rebels, running between buildings, trying to encircle the beleaguered soldiers. We saw them before they saw us, which meant for the first time, we had the element of surprise on our hands. The assembled squads butchered them where they stood, slicing them apart with ribbons of coordinated laser fire. The rebels were gunned down on the spot before they realised that they were the ones being flanked now. A shout went up from the building across the street, and suddenly we were the ones under attack, but rather then being thrown into disarray, we were ready for them. Or rather, the Cadian's were. Turning to face the enemy, they returned fire, shooting the rebels as they hid in their building, cutting them down whenever they peaked out, taking them out the moment they dared show their face. When the Practican squads joined in a few moments later the rebels quickly found themselves overwhelmed and torn apart.

"Ha! That's proper firepower, that is," Portford chuckled. Andermark nodded, and was going to order us to advance when the vox crackled into life. Someone was coughing over the channel, but it wasn't hard to recognise that voice.

"This…this is the lieutenant. We're in the clear down here. Just waiting on you guys up top. I repeat, my position is clear," he said, before breaking down into a coughing fit.

"Ugh, if those sentinels are still up there, I'm going to be very annoyed," he snapped. Andermark grinned.

"Ladies and gentlemen…the game is still on," he smirked, his oh so familiar grin returning to his face.