Past Hab 19

He pressed his hand against the bulkhead on his his left and clutched the handlebar on the bench to his right, it didn't help, another jarring bump rattled his spine and made his teeth knock together. He looked with awe at Captain Zitzkazan, the man barely moved as poked his head out of the gunners turret. The burly man next to him stank of Promethium and wheezed through a respirator mask that concealed his expression, as far as Emil was concerned every man in the transport hold of the Taurox was a grizzled veteran compared to himself. He was only in the command squad because the Captain liked him and he had scored so high on the Mechanicus lay-skill test. His thoughts were interrupted by a particularly hard jolt to the vehicle he was riding in, the flamer trooper next to him elbowed the adjutant back into his seat. "Stahp lockin' ya legs teat-sucka! Ya bouncing more danna a wounded yearling." The man's harsh words came out with a metallic hollowness afforded by the protective mask.

"Oi, leave Good-luck alone. Ya know the welp is Throne-blessed." Emil bristled at the nickname, all the other men of the command squad called him Good-luck, Doc meant to defend the young Fusilier from the pioneer's harsh words but it irked him, however Fozaker was the worst when it came to treating Emil like a god luck charm, the bastard was always rubbing the back of Emil's head with one hand and clutching his Aquilla pendant in the other while mumbling the Emperor's prayer. Even in the back of the Taurox Fozaker was gripping the hilt of a chainsword and rubbing a thin spot into his pendant. "We walk in his light, the Emperor's divinity a beacon of our holy purpose." Krabich snorted, "Ha, ya need a beacon ta see ya cyclops bastard!" Emil had gotten used to Krabich but the man was the closest thing to a heretic that he'd ever met, it was all the more surprising that he was the company's pennant bearer. Fozaker lowered his voice but his lips were still moving in barely heard devotion.

Everyone was tense, they had already been through an ambush and now they all felt like canned fish packed into one Taurox. The Captain had taken over the role of gunner and they had left the other crewman behind with the damaged Taurox to effect a field repair. The pioneers were an odd lot, it didn't sit well with Emil to be so close to men that everyone knew were the most likely to die. Experts in the use of flamers and demolition work they suffered a much higher attrition rate than the average Fusilier, every one of them volunteered for the duty which made Emil more uneasy around them. Death was likely for any of them, but it was a forgone conclusion for the men of the pioneer units. All the men in the back of the Taurox lurched as the vehicle came to a stop.

The Captain swung down into the troop compartment, "Pioneers, disembark. Sweep that ruin to the right of the road." The pioneer at the back hatch rotated the the handle before hopping out with his lasgun tight to his shoulder, the five other men of his squad quickly followed suit alternating between flamer armed Fusiliers and those carrying lasguns. "We can not advance up this road any further, the Orks have blocked the road with barricades. This turns into an infantry operation until we can determine if the road has been mined or not." The Captain was addressing the command squad but his close-net vox was open and his words echoed through the Taurox's vox-amp. "Fozaker, you are the first out, follow close behind the pioneers, we need to find a way forward if we are going to rescue Valrak." The veteran nodded and quickly exited the rear hatch followed by Doc and then Krabich.

Emil stood to move with his squad when he felt the Captain's metallic grip on his shoulder, the Captain reached to his collar and deactivated his vox-bead "Emil, Valrak's vox-feed has gone silent, as far as I know he may well be dead already. The men don't need to know, but don't get yourself killed trying to recover a body." The young Fusilier nodded, "Aye sah." The Captain released his grip on his adjutant and drew his tactica map from his coat, "We just passed Hab 15, the plaza that Valrak is in is past Hab 19." The space between the two looked so small on the map but they had four more blocks of Ork infested ruins to cover on foot before they would even know if this was a rescue or a recovery operation. The Captain tucked his map away and shouted back to the Taurox driver, "Hold this position and maintain vox contact with the rear elements, you will have to be our lifeline to the rest of the force. There is so much distortion and interference on the vox-net. Keep buttoned up, don't want you to get shot in the head like me." The driver chuckled nervously, "Aye sah, we ain't all adamantine on the inside."

Captain Zitzkazan thumbed his vox-bead back on and urged his adjutant out of the transport. Emil hopped down and crunched into the loose gravel that was scattered across the road surface, he drew his laspistol and made his way towards the rest of his squad, the Captain following close on his heels. Smoke, something more, burning flesh, the smell filled his nose, and he stifled a cough as he crossed the threshold of the ruined hab. The pioneers had their weapons trained through holes in the interior wall. The flamer operator closest to the hole shouted, "Little green shites!" With a burp-hiss the pioneer at the breech squirted a torrent of liquid flame into the darkness beyond the breech. Krabich looked back at the Captain and Emil, "Xenos, the tiny ones. Whole herd of ankle bitin' skags. Pioneers roasted the first batch, habs full of um." The Captain un-clipped his sword from his belt, "Pioneers, lead the way." The pioneer squad leader smiled, his face lit by the guttering flames still licking at the next room, "Aye sah, we always do."