[spoiler]This one's a bit long. If you prefer shorter ones, just say so, and I'll keep that in mind. Also, was somewhat afraid it would be too long to post. Probably a bad sign, but oh well.[/spoiler]
"Thank you video games," I chuckled under my breath, lightly tossing the flash in my hand to get a feel for the weight. I took a deep breath to ready myself. "You know what to do: take your time, aim well, don't panic. You panic, you're screwed. Make every shot count."
In a sudden moment of clarity, I realized that lasbolts were much easier to track than bullets. Oh well, too late to back out now.
[i]Show time[/i], I thought, pulling the pin in the flash while holding the spoon. Eyeing the distance, I took a moment to calculate my throw - math nerd, remember? - then let it fly.
Bingo.
I ducked back around the corner as the cultist stirred at the grenade hitting the floor - and then, with a bang, the screaming began. Nothing human should have been able to make those noises.
Then again, they weren't really human anymore, were they?
Shoving the half-second of thoughts away, I came around the corner in a crouch, my body still halfway behind it, before I stared firing. Blackburn had already started firing - one cultist was dead, and another joined it as I took aim and fired.
The first shot rammed home in my target's torso, staggering but not quite enough to kill. A second shot fixed that problem nicely.
Before too long, the ones on the edge were dead, either with smoking holes in their chests or lying in growing pools of blood. Of course, by now, the ones closest to the flash had recovered, and what did you know, they spotted me almost immediately.
One of them rushed me with a crude knife, while the other three had nothing but their bare hands - or were simply in such a frenzy that they forgot they had any. Of course, Stabby took priority, and went down with a lasbolt and a few bullets. Then, I heard a sound that scared me far more than the cultists alone.
"I'm out!" Shouted Blackburn.
Shit. Looks like I was on my own.
First one, I got lucky: the shot cored his head, and he fell with a thump. The second one, however, just kept coming, even after five shots, finally falling on the sixth.
By then, however, the last one was already on me, and tackled me to the ground. I just barely managed to get my lasrifle between the two of us, and managed to hold him at away as the fücker ignore his hands completely and tried to bite me like a dog.
"Could use some help over here!" I shouted over the animalistic snarls of my attacker.
English
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Blackburn pulled the trigger but found his ammunition was dry, he slung his rifle and threw a knife into the cultist. He reloaded and turned his attention to two oncoming cultists. Two well placed shots ended that endeavor, and he ran over and pulled the cultist off of you. [spoiler]nah the longer the better here, I'm just having trouble writing atm[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Alrighty then. This one's a bit brutal, but it is 40k, so, yeah. Also, combat.[/spoiler] I took a moment to catch my breath, before quickly rising to my feet. Blackburn had the cultist in a chokehold, but it was repeatedly elbowing him to free itself. Not on my watch. Pulling out my bayonet, I rushed over, plunging it into the fücker's chest. "Send me a postcard," I said, twisting the knife and shoving it deeper, not letting go until I was sure it was dead. Then I pulled back, and Blackburn dropped it like a sack of potatoes. Crouching down, I wiped the blood of my bayonet on its rags, before standing back up and sheathing it. "Thanks for the save, there." I said as I walked over to my lasrifle.
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[spoiler]thats not that dark, not compared to other people here, wait till ful posts something.[/spoiler] "It's what I'm here for. Help me check these guys for Intel, there's a reason they're here we need to know what that is and who sent them." Blackburn began to pilfer the dead cultists, looking through pockets and pouches. One of the nice things about cultists is you didn't find letters to family or pictures. One of the disappointing things is, you had to be careful what you took. Never knew if some object had unfortunate curses or diseases. The marine pulled out some folded papers and flipped through them.
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I started to follow his lead, looking over another of the cultists. "Anything interesting?"
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"Yeah, got something here. Papers, rather official orders from some chaos higher up, they're looking for something."
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I looked over to Blackburn, stopping my own search. "Well, whatever it is, it can't be good for our health. Can you tell what they're looking for?"
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"No, just references to [i]IT[/i], whatever that means. We should report this in asap, I don't like the way this is playing out." The marine rose and looked around before motioning to follow.
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I nodded, standing up. "Let's just hope that we find "it" before they do."
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"I doubt we do. It might be a weapon, but most probably is some kind of artifact or object that pulses with chaos energy and the like."
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"And of course this magical McGuffin just happens to spit out signals on all the usual bands of crazy. Typical," I said as I shook my head. "Well, we aren't going to find out more just standing around. Let's get moving."
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The marine was already moving forward.
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I followed after him, moving alongside and matching his pace as I took up the same routine as before: scan every angle imaginable, and when that was done, scan them again.
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The marine stopped, most likely to check his HUD and their course. The momentary pause ending just as soon as it began, the man setting off again. "We're getting close."
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I nodded silently, still scanning. No need to preemptively relax and get killed for it. That would just suck, plain and simple.
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The marine led the way, as they continued the area started to show signs of life. People were in the shadows, but they posed no harm. These were the outcast, those who wouldn't or couldn't stay in the general quarters. There were a few dead bodies that littered the halls, evidence of crime and lack of policing.
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It was good that Blackburn stopped me when he did, or else I might have blown the poor bastard to hell. When he did, though, I realized what I was looking at: the slums. A moment later, the full implication hit me: the Corporal had made it sound like there were only a few humans around, but if there were slums, then there were a great many more than that. At that, I relaxed - not completely, mind you, but enough that I wasn't as tense as a cable. There still might be some idiot thinking he could take us both on.
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The marine seemed to inspire a little fear and awe in the populace, they all kept their distance, or a few waved, those he's helped likely. But the worried looks out numbered the friendly ones. They soon arrived at the gate and a guardsman stopped them at the checkpoint. "Halt! Identify yourself." "Damn it stephanos, it's me. Lower your weapon." The guardsman did so. "Another one eh? This one gonna get thrown back out?" "That's up to him."
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I have Blackburn a look. "Your rescues don't have the best behavior record, do they?"
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"Some don't, I don't discriminate on who I help. If they need it, I provide it. It's up to them to survive in general quarters."
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I shook my head at that. "Well, I don't plan on following their example anytime soon, so don't worry."
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"I didn't take you for the type to cause problems. Come on, he'll let us in." The guardsman searched them half heartedly and let them enter the general quarters. It was sparsely populated and almost as run down as outside. The only difference was the presence of the imperium.
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I whistled as I saw the Imperial Aquila. "Never thought I'd look at that and take it seriously."
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"Well, this is where I leave you. I've got to report in to my superiors, the local taverns have rooms, they don't charge for food or drink either. Various jobs need doing around town so you can earn money."
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"Superiors?" I asked. I paused in thought. "Any chance they're looking for new recruits?"
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"It's possible. We're low on man power as it is."