Stuck in Warhammer 40k(isekai)

Convoy Part 1

Author's note: hi everyone, if you have not been following the announcements, I have a lot more free time, thus I am putting more focus on the stories. Thus 3 chapters of Stuck in 40k will be released in an monthly basis, which while smaller then my usual standards, shall help move the story for the bigger chapter to come.

This chapter was meant to be released on the 15th, but due to an medical emergency it was delayed until now when I have fully recovered.

Sometimes, Orion wondered how he made it this far. As the acidic winds battered against his ceramite as the column continued their march through the thick industrial smog. Without the hive's mega structure offering the columns at the very least a blocker from the horrific storm of acid that battered the planet, the full wrath of the planet fell on them. Were it any other force, it would have been a massive setback. To the marines, it was an annoyance.

"Getting burned—-" Static vox bursted through. Orion could tell it was Sariel by the voice, also that annoyance filled it. A second later a laugh from Sapphial. Yet it seems some sort of interference was occurring that prevented even the vox communication even at short distances. Talking normally, the words were lost in the wind and the rain.

Some rather cruel chuckles infiltrated the vox, and someone made a remark in the Nostraman dialect. Orion paid it no heed. By his orders, the column had not been divided along legion lines. Sariel and Sapphial accompanied Richal at the rear of the column, protecting the supplies they bore with them. The front quarter was occupied by the Twins and Barsabe commanding the spear tip, while the centre, more like a ring of ceramite, had Maneld and the remainder of the Night Lord contingent.

It appeared the Night Lords were quite determined not to lose their lord again, considering the considerable number of bodies they placed between him and any potential threat.

As they trudged onwards at a sluggish pace, visibility became an increasing concern, scarcely able to see twenty feet ahead in the downpour, even with their autosenses overclocked. Orion found himself contemplating how a non-Astartes force would navigate such a storm. Though he initially harboured reservations, those concerns once again diminished as the same scenario unfolded. A Night Lord to his left took an additional two paces, advancing somewhat further than usual. Without warning, a series of hisses in Nostraman chastised the unfortunate marine, instructing him to fall back into line.

"See, do not fret about possible desertion. Even stepping an extra pace would draw the ire of their kin. As I said, they can be oddly loyal if given purpose." Alpharius' voice ringed in Orion's head.

"I know...just some hesitation in my part." Orion spoke back...perhaps a bit too loudly.

"Did you utter something, Lord Orion?" Maneld inquired, positioned quite closely beside Orion as they marched, affording them an easy line of sight to one another. His armor remained in commendable condition, whilst Orion turned his gaze through the bright ocular lenses. At such proximity, the torrential downpour of acidic rain did not impede their vox communication.

"Merely contemplating aloud, nothing of any significance, Maneld," Orion replied curtly, well aware that this tactic would be ineffective. "I observed...you have sheathed your chainsword."

"I have accepted that the Night Lords will not back-stab us. Yet I do not call them friends after their unreliable nature"

"It is an start; nonetheless, exercise caution, for it is a wise. In this grim epoch, one can never be certain when a friend may turn against you," Orion remarked, allowing a glimpse of Alpharius to emerge briefly.

"...is this advice from Orion or from the alpha legionary?" Maneld stopped for a moment, turning his head to the side in his query.

"Both," Orion responded with a smile concealed beneath his helmet, and Alpharius returned the gesture.