Ffordeham opened his mouth to shout something encouraging...but the words were lost in a series of detonations. The Commissar shook his head, blinking dirt from his eyes.

"What in Terra's name do they think they're...aiming...for..."

For the first time in years, Percarim T. Ffordeham was at a loss for words. The mutant's grenades had dropped both Elyssa and Lumina - his squad's medic, the one who had worked tirelessly to keep him free from whatever corruption festered within these creatures. The Commissar's mouth worked soundlessly. People died in war - good people, people under his command, sometimes by his own hand, but so soon after she had protected him - his eyes narrowed. Almost without thinking, he slid the power switch on his borrowed lasgun as far forward as it would go, raising it at the autogunner that had just blown up two of his Guardsmen.

"You're in for it now, mutie! Forward! Glory to our dead, fallen in the Emperor's holy name! Our faith is matched only by our fury!"

Spoiler: Commissarial RAAAAEEEEEGE
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Half action: Standard attack at the autogunner
(1d100)[4] vs. 25 (35 + 10 for Aim + 10 for Short Range + 10 for Standard Attack - 20 for having one arm - 10 for feeling tired - 10 for feeling woozy)
Damage (if applicable): (1d10+5)[8]

Half action: move three meters closer to the autogunners

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