|I can't believe it's not heresy!|
Orks. Above us, trailing thick, oily smoke and screams, one of their terrible fighter planes was making its last descent. Pieces of fuselage, gobs of burning fuel and debris were raining down in volatile fragments. All around, men ran and took cover as I stared up in horrified fascination. The pilot was still furiously firing his cannon to the last, but I saw a small green blur as something ejected from the back of the torn-open canopy.
Hearing the tiny scream, old habits kicked in. Instinctively I ran, lined up with the path of the falling creature, and held out my arms, carefully catching an extremely bewildered grot before he hit the earth.
We looked at each other in confusion as time slowed down, and we both realised quite what I'd done. My eyes widened, and he was clearly terrified, having expected to slam into the ground, not the arms of an oddly helpful enemy morale officer.
I had no idea what to do, having purely reacted as I would in another lifetime.
"Um..." I managed, set him lightly down on the ground, and backed away, hoping nobody had seen my mistake. Something in me failed, and I couldn't kill the small xeno, having just saved his life.
The greenskin stared at me, before snapping out if its apparent daze, shrugging and running hell for leather in the opposite direction. An interesting tale to recall to its comrades, if it survived.
Horrified, and hoping nobody had witnessed the save, I dropped back into the nearest bunker in an attempt to clear my head. I found it occupied. Vox officer Ahde was weeping with laughter at my idiocy.
"Not a fucking word." I put my head in my hands.
He patted my back, and nodded, but was still unable to speak, his shoulders shaking and eyes streaming.