Author Notes:
Next GSS chapter is up! Oh dear, Cookies to whoever can guess the references I hid in this chapter :D
Also, I am legit still shocked that I wrote something like this. Do you believe me when I say that I have no recollection of this whatsoever?
There are advanced chapters on P-atreon for both of my fics, with a couple of special bonuses if you read the fine print :D
https://www.patre-on.com/Heartbreak117
https://ko-fi.com/heartbreak117/goal?g=0
Income goal 680/700 USD (Mayday! We're going down, help~!!!)
For my fics:
https://www.scribblehub.com/series/55793/reich-marshal-of-the-belkan-reich/
https://www.webnovel.com/book/reich-marshal-of-the-belkan-reich_23809095505377305
https://photos.app.goo.gl/waZgkRa3UQhqKQBi9
https://www.scribblehub.com/series/1375924/in-the-grimdark-sector-with-a-system/
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Crouching, with most of my body protected by my carapace shield, I hum a barely audible tune as I wait for the metallic steps to approach. Behind me, Weiss is bracing her lasrifle against the wall with half of her body hidden in a recess. Sergeant Johnson is a bit behind me to my right, using what seems to be the remains of a makeshift barricade as a cover. Other members of my Platoon are also setting up positions in some dead-end crew quarters, either to poke out and engage the enemy or are on standby for when a member needs to reload. Other than that, one-third of the Special Weapon Squad is positioned in a small hallway. They form a makeshift barricade using some furniture from the crew quarters to set up a fighting position there. Afterward, they set up the heavy stubber they're carrying down on a bipod, thus locking down the entire hallway.
Similar to how we Guards have made the front area into a hasty kill zone, the Salamanders under Tu'shan also form an overlapping field of fire to protect our rear. Meanwhile, Mama's and Tsavorae's Sisters of Battle are tasked with shoring up our flanks and to reinforce either of the Guards or the Space Marines, if the situation calls for it. Given that there are only seconds left before the first unknowns appear down my corridor, I think we have performed quite well in forming a defensive position. As for why we don't just send someone to be an aggressive scout, doing so would be the height of foolishness. We have neither the floor plans for the Battlestar nor an accurate intelligence package on whoever or whatever is still roaming these decks. Speaking of which...
As expected, the first active things to come into view are no humans, but mere facsimiles of one of the most widespread bipeds in this grimdark galaxy. Much like the broken-down husks that were their compatriots, these Clankers in front of us seem to be barely clinging to life. Their chrome exterior is marred with battle damage, negligence, and whatever the things that are floating in the air. Everything about them seems unnatural and mismatched like they're made to conform to a singular puzzle, yet each uses pieces of different quality to do so. One Clanker has a cracked mono-eye visor and dents on its head, yet its arms seem remarkably intact. Another one has scorched and cracked armor plates everywhere, saved for its torso which remains in near pristine condition. Pulling on my wealth of knowledge, both gifted and learned, I can hazard an assumption that the surviving Clankers cannibalized disabled or deactivated ones for parts. It's unknown for how long the Pegasus has been cast adrift, but it must be quite some time for the human crews to be dried husks and the Clankers to mutilate themselves. I still feel like we're missing something, but the mystery will have to be solved on another occasion. Right now, the Clankers have just leveled their gun-equipped arms at us.
"Contact!" I shout as I align the laser dot of my laspistol on the head of the Clanker with the cracked visor.
All at once, multiple laser beams cut down the first rows of Clankers as most of the 3rd Platoon and I engage the enemy piling down our front. While the Clankers' armor may prove to be effective, somewhat, against Colonials .45 ACP and 9 mm Parabellum, they stand no chance against a shower of lasers. In a show of mastery, and partly enhanced by my Battle Meditation skill, nearly all the las shots made by 3rd Platoons are either headshots or center-mass shots. It's nigh impossible to miss in such a confined corridor, and for the first time in a long time, 3rd Platoon enjoys a 100% hit rate, at least for a short while. When the lumbering Clankers are cut down by more than a dozen, they wise up and spool up their weapons in advance. Whenever a new Clanker rounds their corner, they do so with both guns blazing. At first, the Clankers only manage to squeeze their triggers for half a second before going down. However, as more and more Clankers come out of the woodwork, the density of fire is driven to an uncomfortable level. Their kinetic weapons constantly unleash a withering hail of lead that forces some of my peers to abandon their positions altogether. This, as one can easily surmise, brings about a noticeable reduction in firepower.
"By the Emperor!" Weiss complains as she tucks her full body behind the recess in the wall. Bullets of unknown caliber strike where she's hiding, causing some fragmentations to bounce harmlessly against my gear. "Don't they ever run out of ammo!?"
I chuckle as bullets strike my Black Steel in futility, my full body is hidden out of view thanks to the shield and my small body size. "Maybe they're acting out on a pict-series or something. One never needs to reload on the screen."
Weiss looks at me as if I had grown a second head by joking while actively in the line of fire. On my part, being fired is but another Tuesday, and that recaf Mama gave me to hit the spot just enough for me to be in the mood for mayhem.
A bullet strikes a bit too close for comfort at Weiss' position when she tries to blind fire her lasrifle, causing her to complain. "Argh, dang it! They're getting a bit too close for comfort."
I lightly reply. "Eh~, don't worry. It's either Mama will come to bail us out or Johnson decides that he has had enough."
"Yeah, well, I really have had enough, girl!" Johnson barks out a laugh, shouting behind our position. "Scorpin, my boy! Light 'em up with the noob tube! The rest of you, suppressive fire!"
I smirk while sparing Weiss a glance. "You heard the boss, full-auto all the way!"
"FROM CADIA WITH LOVE, BABY~!"
The Clankers, stepping over the carcasses of their fallen and still holding down the triggers, are suddenly assaulted by the melting curtain of red light. The Guards of 3rd Platoon don't even need to aim their lasrifles, they only need to poke their weapons out of their hidy-holes and fire. Our enemy have jammed themselves to the point that their corpses are interfering with their mobility, making the robots sitting ducks and prime pickings. In the blink of an eye, the walls of lead that have been suppressing our position collapse. This allows one of the Specialists in 3rd Platoon, Scorpin, to reveal herself from her cover, pointing her drum-fed grenade launcher down range. With three resounding thumps, she sends three 57 mm frag grenades at a dense formation of Clankers by the corridor intersection. Barely a second later, three consecutive blasts decimate the Clankers' position. The culminated shockwave pushes ancient dust and debris rushing down the length of the corridor.
"Holy Terra!" Weiss screams while shielding her helmet from the rolling dust cloud. "Ein, you ok!?"
The Rookie turns to my position, only to see that I have disappeared from where I once was. With haste, Weiss scans the corridor, only to see that the Clankers are also attacking positions held by Space Marines and Sisters of Battle. However, I am with neither of them. In fact, I am now rushing ahead like a battering ram.
"The Emperor protects..." Muttering a soft prayer with a small smile, I dash through the dust cloud.
Immediately, I come to see a damaged Clanker beneath my feet. Without stopping my momentum, I stomp hard on its neck joint, crushing its critical servos and separating its head from the rest of the half-melted body. Like a professional football player, I use my leg to juggle the decapacitated head once before kicking it with force slightly to my left. The flying head accelerates and accurately bashes another Clanker, cracking its visor as the rest of the body crashes backward. With my trusty laspistol in my right hand, I finish off the downed enemy with a precise shot through its neck and head.
The upcoming intersection has Clankers standing both left and right and seemingly out of view. Yet, I manage to still make out their general postures and locations by using a combination of my instinct and the water vapor in the air. The latter, in particular, is a very creative application of my Abyss Totem Stigma. That said, I can pat myself on the back later. Now is the time to burst some chrome heads in.
Running forward till the very end, I pull the pin of a frag grenade attached to my vest using my left hand. Instead of throwing the explosive right off the bat, I let my caffeinated veins take the lead and cook the hot potato. As the next batch of Clankers starts moving to fill in the space left behind by their fallen brethren in the corridor, I lower my center of gravity and slide the last stretch of the way. The Clankers, thinking that whoever is running at them is up at their level in height, mistakenly align their gun arms in the wrong elevation. Nobody expects a small Guardswoman to come sliding their way with a shield.
Before the two nearest Clankers can correct the alignment of their guns, I bring up my laspistol and swiftly shoot the two of them in the heads, the right one first then the left one. Before the two Clanker's corpses even collapse, I use the momentum generated from the turning of my body to toss my well-cooked frag grenade down to the left hallway. There, a fresh batch of Clankers are forming ranks to move and attack my unit. Slamming Black Steel, my trusty shield down on the floor, my shield pointing left, I stop my slide and come to a crouch. Trusting my shield to cover the whole of my body incoming fire from the left, I raise my laspistol to swiftly eliminate the remaining threats to the right. I barely squeeze out three more pistol kills, when the grenade I threw exploded, taking with it around a Squad of Clankers. Not even looking at the aftermath of the explosion, I finish draining the rest of the energy pack in my laspistol to kill off the last of the Clankers to my right. Pressing the magazine release button, I flick the drained energy pack out of my pistol.
I am unable to reload the laspistol in time when footsteps of rumbling metals rapidly approach my left flank. From the corner of my eyes, I can see a Clanker's metallic fist coming down to strike me. Acting on ingrained instinct, I use Black Steel to parry the blow away. Using my left leg as a pivot, I sweep out with my right and knock the damaged Clanker clean off its feet. Not letting it catch a breather, I rise up before moving to slam my trusty carapace shield down on its torso. The force of my blow caves the robot's chest in, causing critical damage that disables its upper limbs. Seeing that it can only move its head now, I calmly reload my laspistol with one hand, using a spare energy pack on my battle belt. As the Clanker moves its red optical sensor to look at me, I point the business end of my weapon at its head.
"In a way, I am doing you a favor..." I then mouth the last word to the robot, not caring whether it can see my lips movement or not.
'Cylon.'
I squeeze the trigger, melting a hole through the visor of the last Clanker in this part of the ship. I have no idea how many of them are still left, but this won't be the last of them. I hope the other team won't encounter any loss in an engagement with these Clankers.
Rising to my full height, I come to see the full effect of my Blitz. I can't help but whistle. "Now, that's a lotta damage~!"
I turn to look back at where the rest of my unit is, only to stop right where I am when I come face to face with Chapter Master Tu'shan's power armor. Before I can even say or do anything, Tu'shan brings out one of his fists, only to form it into a universal gesture of goodwill.
A freaking thumbs up.
Then, Mama appears from behind Tu'shan's eclipsing form, clapping with her armored hands.
"As expected of my daughter, giving you recaf was a splendid idea."
It doesn't have to be said that I can hear Weiss' groan all the way over here.