Ashes in the mud

Desperate

The Lychguard came, shields up, marching through the scattered firelight. They moved with a purpose that was simple. They were built to kill, and they came for the defenders one step at a time, never stopping, never slowing. The shots from the walls hit them, but the shields held. Each time the Lychguard moved forward, the fortress seemed to shake.

Elara stood on the wall and watched them come. She looked down at her men, saw the grim faces, the knuckles white around their guns. She swallowed, her mouth dry. She turned and met Hedek's eyes. He stood not far from her, his eyes cold and sharp.

"Hold the line, Cadet," Hedek said. His voice had no doubt. "At all costs."

She nodded. The line was all that mattered. If they lost it, there was nothing after. No hope, no tomorrow, only death.

The Lychguard were close, too close. She could see her men's eyes widening, the fear building. She moved to the edge of the parapet, her voice rising above the sound of the fight. "Hold for each other!" she shouted. "For everything we have left!"

The men turned, their faces shifting. There was fear there, but there was something else too. They steadied, their eyes on her, then back on the enemy. They raised their weapons and fired again. The shots echoed off the walls. There was hope now, a small flame that could not be allowed to die.

Harlok moved beside her. He held his sword in one hand. He was pale, but he was smiling. "I'm here, Cadet," he said, his voice rough and tired. "Let's make it count."

She looked at him and nodded once. There was nothing more to say. They knew what was coming.

The Necron Overlord stepped through the breach. Its staff glowed with a deadly light, crackling with energy. It moved slowly, the glow of its eyes passing over the defenders as if they were not worth its notice. Fear spread again, reaching out and pulling at her men. It darkened the air around them.

Elara felt her throat tighten. She knew what this meant. If the Overlord reached the line, it was over. No second chances. No regrouping. It ended here.

"Vorell," she called into her vox, her voice low and steady. "We need fire on that Overlord."

Vorell's response came back calm. "Cadian lascannon team, thirty meters to your right. They're preparing to fire."

Elara turned, her eyes finding the lascannon team behind a wall. They were moving quickly, reloading, the barrel glowing. She looked to Harlok, her heart pounding. "We need to draw it in," she said.

Harlok nodded. His smile faded, his face serious. "I'll get its attention. Keep up, Cadet."

He didn't wait. He moved fast, shouting at the Overlord, waving his sword, his voice cutting through the noise of the battle. The Overlord turned, its head moving slowly, the glow in its staff brightening. It moved after Harlok, steady, never rushing, its eyes fixed on him. Harlok led it away from the defenders, the men making room.

"Lascannon, on my mark," Elara said into the vox. Her eyes were on the Overlord, the distance shrinking between it and the Cadians. Her breath came fast, her pulse pounding.

"Fire!" she shouted.

The lascannon fired, a bright streak of energy that hit the Overlord's side. Its armor cracked, the metal breaking. The Overlord staggered, its body jerking as sparks flew from the wound.

This was her chance.

Elara pulled a frag grenade from her belt, her hands shaking for a second before she steadied them. She looked at Harlok. He was watching her, his face exhausted but determined. She didn't wait. There was no time to think, no time for fear.

She took a deep breath and ran. The grenade felt heavy in her hand, the Overlord looming ahead, its broken armor sparking.

This was it. One chance to save them all.

She charged, her heart pounding, the stone shaking under her feet. The world narrowed to a single point—the Overlord, the broken armor, the light flickering inside.

There was no room for anything else. No fear, no hesitation.

Only the fight.