Pity The Guardsman (Male Reader x Warhammer 40K)

Chapter 2- Homefront (Part 2)

Sooo........I know it took forever for me to publish this chapter, I've been busy with work and this whole virus shit wasn't making it any easier so I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. And if you don't then tell me why and I'll do my best to work on my mistakes.

Segmentum Ultima
Panzer, Agricultural World
Manas's Southern Wall, 1st Trench Line Y/N's POV

"These heretics. These traitorous scum have come to Panzer uninvited!" The commanding voice of Colonel Scipio came booming through the voxcaster on my back, practically shaking my out of my boots as I stepped on the firing step of the trench. "But they have come to die! Impaled on our bayonets and butchered before our wall of guns that stands between them and the people of Panzer!"

The Colonel's words lingered in my ears as I glanced to my right and then my left, seeing my brothers and sisters in arms on either side, lasguns in hand, ready for the coming fight. This was our first battle as a regiment, with the enemy before us, and our loved ones behind, and with this in mind I had hoped to finally stand shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the men, but once again I was denied. Jacub was on my left as Solis my right. They were my squad mates and all three of us and known each other since we were young, and yet both of them had put ten feet between themselves and me. I should have used to this.....they all treated me like this, some more than others, but everyone, everyone I've ever meet had always said something was off about me. But they could never figure out what, and neither could I.

This wasn't the place nor time to think about my own problems and after shaking my thoughts aside I pulled the stock of my lasgun into my shoulder and started down the hill that the city was built upon. Stared down at the rows upon row of tall crops that covered most of the planet, once our very source of life and prosperity, and now the enemy hid amongst them. We knew they were there, we could vaguely see humanoid figures shuffle amongst the vegetation, and they knew we knew, but had done nothing, idly standing there at the very edge of our perimeter.

And I mean nothing, no massed charges even with numbers on their side, no small probes to gauged the strength out our lines or where we were stretched thin. Nothing.

So here we stood in hastily dug trenches, nothing but sandbags and mud as our fortifications. No concrete bunkers, no heavy guns, not a single mine laid, no barbed wire. Nothing but flesh and determination in between the enemy and our loved ones, our homes.

Loved ones. For a second I let my mind wonder a second time, and I though of my parents who I had buried two years ago after sickness took them. Leaving my alone, my younger brother being taken away by a stranger black ship when we were children. Than I though of Merrill, who was maybe seven years old, I can never remember. Two weeks ago I was on patrol, making my way down one of the many streets of the city when she came running up to me with a big grin on her face and a flower in her hand. I remember taking the flower, thanking her and tucked into into a small space in between my flak vest and my shirt.

I tapped the front of my armor where the flower still was. I remember the sweet sound of laughter as the children played on the streets. For her, for every last man and woman in Manas. Not one heretic, not one traitor will pass me. Not as long as the Lord gives me strength.

"Look!" A voice cried out, breaking the silence like the sun at dawn, and we all watched as a single red flair rose skyward. Steadily rising as it was joined by a second flair, then a third and a fourth. I blinked and the sky was full of them, no doubt surrounding the city on all sides just as heretic's did. Just as the first flair began to flicker out I watched as a wave of men suddenly rushed forward and began to charge up the hill, some brandished lasguns while others had what looked like autoguns and there were even a few who had melee weapons, axes, shovels and swords.

What I didn't understand was why they weren't charging us in mass to use their numbers to their full advantage. What the hell was their plan? Did they have one? They were halfway up the hill when I grabbed the microphone of my voxcaster that was strapped to my chest right above my heart, and held the button as I sent a message to command. "This is 1st Squad. They've begun their attack on the southern wall!" I didn't need to specify what regiment, since Panzer only ever had one at a time.

"Open fire!" Sergeant Rugen screamed, a shot form her rifle firing off and mixing with the first volley to form a wall of red. As it collided with the soldiers at the front of the charge I watched as their lasers burned through their makeshift armor, scorching their tattered clothes before finally hitting and almost melted their skin. Those who are killed outright tumbled to the ground, and were almost immediately trembled underfoot by their comrades thought a few did trip over the corpses. I took aim as one who was charging right at me, his face was cocked with dirt and he was screaming as loud as he could. I didn't look him in the eyes, but pulled the trigger and watched as the red bolt left the barrel of my rifle, before it moved faster than I could see and slammed into his chest. His expression was that of lunacy and barely changed even as the front of his garb was burned away and his akin was charged black, and for a split second I was terrified that our weapons weren't as affective as we thought they were. But then he stumbled, lost his balance and tumbled over, his form disappearing beneath a sea of his fellows.

I didn't bother aiming as I fired again, they wee so numerous and so close that my shot would hit someone eventually. I watched as more and more began to fall before our volleys,  but the wave of bodies never slowed and their screams only grew louder as they got in range to return fire.

"Their not stopping!" Jacub screamed out, voicing the dread we all had to be feeling now as they kept running despite their losses. The ones with guns had started to blindly fire up at us, most not even shouldering their weapons as their hate and frenzy carried them forward. They were so close now that I could see their eyes, and their footsteps shook the ground as I fired blindly up at them until one was right on top of me.

With an animalistic yell he threw himself over the sandbags just as I raised my lasgun skyward, my bayonet stabbing into his gut, sinking deeper and deeper until the barrel of my gun was pushing into him. He never stopped screaming and his momentum forced me back, throwing my off balance and all I could do was grip my rifle as fell down into the mud my trench.