[i][/i][color=fff200][h2][centre] Brother Von Palus
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[color=aba000][h3][centre] Imperial siege lines
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[hr]

Von Palus staggered up back to full height and saw his brothers still fighting unharmed and armour in better shape. Least the rest of the unit was capable. The unit mattered more than the man.

A ammunition was running lower and a ruined scout tank lay in a a empaced spot. Tracks long beyond repair but it's guns worked. Limping over as his body attempted to heal its greverous wounds clubbing aside heratics, no skill or finesse just brute force. 

Working the mechanism was tricky, yanking trigger guards off and grabbing the ammo box. Voice pained, but resalutely determined. 

[i][color=fff79a] there mistake was not killing me. [/color][/i]

Firing exact bursts of heavy fire to save bolter ammo dfor the assault, forced to improvise by there lack of support.

[i][color=fff79a] If we pool our krak Grenades we might be able to break the wall where thr foundations have been weakened and coroded. [/color][/i]

Carefully firing bursts of fire, even thr ammo box would run low. The battle would have to be taken soon or not at all, each burst bringing pain but a marine could fight through worst, lose limbs and still fight.