Stuck in Warhammer 40k(isekai)

Retribution.

3rd person

Orion marched onwards, not caring about what had occured, flanked by Barsabe and other space marines. They enter the apothecarium to see what happens, two initiates already lay slain, while Maximon's right arm lay on the floor, holding a chainsword. Maximon was firing his bolt pistol as a lictor, while using his body to shield the initiate from it vile attacks. When it heard the clang of ceremite boot it turned its attention towards its new foes. Without hesitation the marines open fire. Bolter rounds reap apart the creature, in a 1 vs 1, it was powerful, but it was caught in the open and slain in. Maximon armour was battered but his right arm was gone.

"Maximon, how hurt are y-" Orion asked but was interrupted.

"They used the assault as a diversion, it wanted the geneseed, I stopped it, but at a heavy price." Maxiom says while looking at the two young initiates who had their lives cut short., there was a bit of grief in his voice.

"We are being stretched thin... Barsabe" Orion said, getting the attention of his second in command

"Yes?"

"From now on, any space marine who is off duty will stay in the armour, ensuring that there is always brothers to guard our future." Orion orders.

"Your will my lord." Barsabe days.

"Now the rest of you, help us run stock of the situation." Orion says.

Timeskip, 2 days.

Maximon was tending towards the wounded, while Guardsmen were dragging the dead genestealers to the furnace, they needed fuel and it seemed a waste to not use their bodies as fuel. More than one guardsmen has lost a finger or two, or lost an entire arm. Theta is working on grafting a servo arm towards the guardsmen, though there was no anesthesia, so the poor sod was screaming all the way. But for the most part moods were cheerful, a victory was something that was required, specially with minimal loss of life. The moral boost was certainly something and the worker lines in production were working at a higher pace. Right now the Ogryns were like children bickering on who killed more 'bugs', it amused Orion to see Nell trying to get their attention, Orion was considering giving him a chainsword.

Orion's mood on the other hand was dark, everyone noticed this and even the guardsmen were careful when speaking to him. Barsabe was careful, but only the Astartes and Theta knew why his mood was so sour: Attrition. The waste of ammunition almost drained the entire stock, though most guardsmen and whiteshields do not know how close they came to running out, the astartes started to aim their shots. Orion knew that they would be able to replenish their stock, but the Genestealers could launch an assault at any moment and soon through sheer attrition they would win. They could throw away ten of thousands of lives without a second thought, but a single loss would be a major blow to Orion's forces. Before this conflict Orion held no illusion, this would be a long and drawn out campaign, but even so, now facing their numbers it started to weigh down on him, what did not help were the cries of the families.

In the furnace final honours were being given towards the two dead initiates , as this is a hive city their bodies could not be buried, so they were given to the towards furnace so that even in death they might still serve. This is a grim situation. Orion did not know their names..... This is the price of survival, with the death of the whiteshields it already weighed on him but children? That was a blow that even the suit of a cataphractii armour could not prevent.

"Lord" Barsabe's voice cut him out of his thoughts, Barsabe's voice was concerned.

"Yes?" Orion did not try to hide his mood.

"We have encountered a problem" his gaze was stuck on Orion faceplate, trying to read what his lord was thinking.

"What it is then, it is urgent but not so much that you would be frantic" Orion changed tables as he read Barsabe like a book.