Two Terras

Irregulars

Sarah was a runner, she had run cross country for several years. It was a good reason she had stayed alive for all this time. Even after being moved from bunker to holdfast and several other shifting safety zones Sarah always managed to keep her endurance. But her body had limits, and a full sprint for several minutes was wearing on her. Still, her legs didn't stop pumping. The huffing puff of her breath and her girlfriend's was all that filled her ears as she pulled her along. "We can't stop moving Marie!" She shouted, but it was useless. The booming explosions was all the motivation both of them needed. They ran for several minutes more, the sound of screaming and explosions fading as they ran into the forest outside their townstead. There she allowed them both a pause. Marie was covered in sweat, used to lifting heavy weights instead of running. They looked back, the town was large but the forest sat on top of a hill. Allowing both women a beautiful spot for a picnic, and a great spot for other private acts. It was now polluted though. Polluted with the sight of massive war machines roaring through the streets, masked soldiers marching along them. They herded people into the plaza, slowly depositing them into a mass overlooked by a single enormous tank. Sarah's eyes narrowed, picking out the figure stood atop the tank. He wore a massive grey coat and a military cap. He watched the operation with an impassive glare. "See him?" Sarah asked to Marie, who squinted. "My eyesight is horrible, you know that." Sarah sighed, formulating a response. "I bet if we kill him this all falls apart." Marie looked up immediately. "Are you serious? No way. Last time I checked we aren't soldiers." Sarah was about to respond but was cut off. Heavy footsteps approached them rapidly. 

734 lifted his Jotan-Pattern Lasgun, racking the charging lever. A short whine responded, the weapon powering up. Next to him 489 carefully stepped through the brush. They had both sighted the two candidates running away, both of the women were swiftly approved by the bio scanners built into their helmets and masks. The two men took off after them, veteran experience guiding them to the forest. There they hunted, rifles up and level. Scanning the trees and brush with technology as well as their natural implements. 734 lifted his hand, signalling to his comrade to stop. They both squatted down, silent as the bark around them. 734 listened, ears attuned to the notes of human breath. And found it. Directly left, up. He glanced at his comrade and the soldier nodded. As one they rose and brought their rifles to face the surprised faces of their quarry. In an instant one dropped down on his comrade, 734 instead of assisting, braced. He knew the other would be behind the first, as was common between couples. So he made it look like he would assist his struggling brother, when the woman dropped down he caught her jaw on the butt of his rifle. The crack alerted the other, who was then swiftly dispatched by a complex move from 498. He brought the woman's arm down and caught it in a firm grip, exercising precise technique to pin her arm behind her and...twisted. The elbow popped and she slackened enough for 498 to escape and deliver a swift kick to the ribs. The two men caught a breath before brushing their uniforms clean and lifting their respective prisoners up. 734 sized his up, noting with satisfaction the blood that dribbled from her clenched lips. Still, he had not harmed her greatly. "These will make fine guardsmen." He commented to 498, who nodded. Pushing the large one along, clutching her aching ribs. 

Colonel Pytan Van Gor looked down at the writhing insect with disdain, it begged and whimpered pleading for its life. The Colonel nodded, the man beside him fired his las gun into the creature's face. The body slumped, eyes and brain boiled in an instant. "Lieutenant, show these mongrel filth the meaning of wrath." The man's lips curled into a smile as he set his face plate in, he called out orders in native Blenghese and the soldiers all around them obeyed. Pytan had set his lander down in a heavily residential area, eager to see what mettle the men and women of this world possessed. He was disgusted to see whimpering wretches that cried and screamed at any opportunity. They screamed a lot more as they were corralled into a circle by the Irregulars, bayoneted Jotan-Pattern Las rifles thrust into their guts if they did not comply. Pytan looked at the man to his left, who nodded and stepped forward. Servo skulls danced around him and the crowd as they scanned for deficiencies. Slowly people were segregated under Pytan's watchful eye. They came in all sizes, colors, shapes, and genders. He cared little, if they could hold a Las Rifle was his only concern. "Finished, Colonel." The Studiographer said, impassive face plate staring at the two weeping groups. "This batch wasn't very fruitful." Pytan said, noting that the available candidates were few in number. "The majority of this settlement's population has been diminished by the xenos. The strong and courageous have already been routed to the planet's military. We are lucky these remain." Pytan sighed an waved his hand, he watched in cold silence as the defective group was afforded a relatively fast death by las and gunfire. Once the smoke cleared the candidates were stuffed into an 8x8 and spirited away to the Lander. Pytan watched the vehicle roar away before smartly turning on his heel and entering his Command Baneblade. Once inside the massive war machine and sat at his station, he called his troops onward. This settlement was one of many, and while this one showed more organization than the others so far...Pytan always loved a good puzzle. And the chance to use the Hellhammer cannon mounted to his Command Tank.