#Imperial guard oc I made name Kratzis

[lesboficfanatic]

can I use this? Can I expand on this million dollar idea? What if I just…

just real quick, thanks,

Kratzis sighed the sigh only a dead man and the brave worker of the customer service frontline could sigh, the tired sort felt in the space between each rib.

In his hand he held the mangled remains of his communicator. Previously it had been clipped to his shoulder but a well placed shot from a chaos defector meant to take off his head had glanced it instead, ruining the once brand new equipment.

Lestasmen, the pompous commissar of his regiment, had bragged when they had first been issued, so proud to have the shiny new equipment to show his troops where supposedly the ‘best’,

“Honestly if he spent half as much of that vain energy on planning as he did prancing around like a peacock perhaps none of this would have happened. Eh Gear?” Kratzis turned to the body of Gear as if expecting a response.

To Kratzis’ knowledge it had been just the two of them left, well now just him, who had managed to break from the trap, get to the fortifications, fight they’re way through the fuckers and slam into a heavy looking possibly locking door. It had been a miracle they’d made it in, when they’d had there was a few more with them but in breaking in and racing down twisting halls and through dark rooms they had each slowly been picked off.

now it was just him, him and the body of Gear, a modified gun, based of a bolt blaster it almost sounded like had shot through Gear just as they had kicked the door to the, funnily enough, munitions room closed behind them. Whatever fresh hell the weapon had been it got Gear at an odd angle, both his lungs and he’d died quick.

Kratzis heavies himself up from the grenade box he’d been leaning on to get closer, he grabbed Gear’s own communicator from his shoulder and gave it an inspection.

it was whole and that was certainly an improvement from his own, but it also looked damaged, the side pieces where smashed in and concave a bit. Great. Just ficking great.

Kratzis fiddled with it anyway, turning it on and to broadcasting, maybe he can call high command? Get an evake the hell out of here, if he’s lucky some Salamanders are near by

the communicator spits out a crackle of static before falling steady, Kratzis radios in;

“High command,” he pauses waiting for a response on the other side first as protocal

silence

“high command this is a 4th regiment 3rd platoon soldier on xelsis ll do you copy?”

Nothing from the other side but the faint crackle of radio.

“High. Command. This is 4th regiment 3rd platoon. Do. You. Copy?”

Just his fucking luck this one was busted as shit too

He waits and fiddles with it for a bit, setting the output to max.

“high command come in”

Yet again silence.

“Damn this shit.” He clips it to his shoulder in case he feels particularly masochistic later and wants to fiddle with it more. He doesn’t bother with turning it off however, damn things about as useful here as his commissar was.

“Well Gear, what to do now? Stuck in this room, doubtful anyone else from the point site made it with us who isn’t already strewn out out there and your also dead in here,”

Again Gear doesn’t have anything helpful to say.

“Right, some help you are. Well, this is a weapons storage, might as well fuck some shit up eh?”

And with that Kratzis starts rifling through all the assorted weapons.

He grabs and straps every small gun, knife, grenade, bomb, chem explosive and sharp object he can to his body, if he’s fucked he’s fucking someone else up in here too.

feeling like a dead man with no alcohol after he’s plundered the weapons storage to its fullest he heads to Gear one last time,

“Sorry mate, I’ll be taking those Spirits I know you have on you,” and spirits he has, dear Gear, quickly becoming his favorite person on this wretched planet had two different flasks on him, one that Kratzis downed half off immediately and strung the rest of to his belt.

“Now I bet those asshats are waiting for me to either die of a wound or open the door, no way they’re forcing anything in here with the amount of explosive powder there is. Mmmm.” Looking around the room again Kratzis’ eyes caught the vent shaft in the corner, it would be cozy fit but it beats waiting around.

And so here Kratzis is now, warmed by alcohol and crawling in some dusty ass vent system of a rogue turned full on chaos base of some miserable backwater planet.

“For fucks sake, if they don’t shoot me first I’m going to die choking on some dusty ass shit in here.” Kratzis coughed yet again, the thin cloth he’d tied up around his head doing little.

Then he stopped, below him he heard faint shatter, some one was talking…

He couldn’t hear anything clearly currently so he moved as quietly as possible forward towards the next vent screen and quietly peeled it back a touch to listen.

Below him in a wide room where several chaos traitors speaking around a map, listening in Kratzis heard them talking about the site they had herded the regiment into and fucking jumped with everything, pinning the forces and smothering them. If they where to be believed there where no survivors.

“Oh fuck these guys” grabbing one of the chem explosives from where it was strapped to his thigh Kratzis gave it a quick glance, it was a highly explosive type that would spray a 15 foot area and any one who inhaled it would have their lungs melted in, ‘perfect for these dicks, all standing close together with their guards down’.

Kratzis quickly pulled the pin and dropped it down to them and then pulling the vent screen back.

“Musty bitch, big talk on how we died like rats let’s see you eat this.”

to the traitors standing together it looked as though damnation simply fell from the roofed ceiling,

“FUCK ITS-“ was all one could get out before it detonated and the drowning screams prevailed.

Kratzis smiled for the first time all day, this was going to be fun.

Lone guardsman is the sole survivor of their regiment, left stranded in enemy territory. Their communicator is busted so they can't contact high command or call for help. But do they give up? Do they sit down and wait to die? No! They are a soldier of the Imperium and they will fight to their last breath! Thus begins a one-person assault against the enemy forces.

Little do the guardsman know that, while their communicator is busted, it's not entirely out of order and while they can't hear anything, high command hears everything. High command gets front row seats to listen in as, the lone soldier they all thought would die in maybe an hour, successfully infiltrates the enemy stronghold, kills various enemies and even enemy commanders.

Guardsman, not knowing anyone can hear them, is swearing and complaining the entire time.

"God-Emperor help me, I fucking HATE this planet!"

"Join the army they said, it's an honor they said. Shove a lasgun up your ass and pull the trigger, that's what I say!"

"At least I don't have to deal with the fucking commissar anymore. Fucker cared more about his facial hair than he did about his men."

"Come at me you ugly sons of bitches!"

"Throne, it smells like absolute ass here. Reminds me of bootcamp."