Author Notes:
Kept you waiting, huh? My apologies for the delay, I have been dealing with irl stuff in preparation for the coming Lunar New Year. It's a situation that will continue until that annoying long-as-heck holiday is over, I fear.
I will strive to maintain the usual release rate, but I offer my sincerest apologies in advance if you find myself wanting. I have a standing duty to make sure my Mom has a nice holiday season, at least. And you all are helping me a whole lot on that front.
You all are the best, you know!
And speaking of that... Salutation to Lucas Schmidt on his promotion from Private to Sergeant! Many thanks for your outstanding contribution, Sergeant!
Now then, without further ado, enjoy the test picture of Ein and the new GSS chapter!
Peace to you all!
Ein C8th 5: https://postimg.cc/0bhTVdr9
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"Should I punch it?" Asks one of the Salamander Dreadnoughts through the crackling of his external Vox. His Power Fist, equipped with an underslung Flamer, clenches and unclenches in apparent eagerness. "I want to see if it lasts against three of my punches."
Currently, the entire assault force is halted by the massive blast door in front of them. From a cursory glance alone, the blast door is thicker and made out of better material than the others we have broken through. Cutting through it will take some time, even with the Melta charges we have brought.
"You'd better save your fury for something more mobile, brother Byron." Tu'shan lets out a brief laugh after hearing his entombed brother remains quite excited for a challenge. Still, the Chapter Master knows that the Dreadnought brother wasn't serious in his proposition.
The Dreadnought Byron, with an apparent fisticuff interest, makes a languid motion of tapping his Power Fist against the metallic surface of the blast door, creating a brief, low metallic boom.
"The walls that blocked us prior, while less affected by the Cadian oceanic weather, were shoddily erected, disuniform in material strength. They were unable to withstand a single one of my punches, much less three. The obstruction in front of us now, however, is of a starkly different kind. Pure material makeup, tempered and molded to perfection, rightfully true to a refined recipe. Its faded appearance reminds one of the finest aged beverages... Albeit defaced by heresy. This blast door was once part of the original Installation 08 infrastructure, built to the true Cadian standard. And as much as I would love to test its mettle, it would indeed be more prudent to bypass its by means more... Instantaneous than just my fist."
"Then we shall determine our best course of action with their help." Tu'shan turns toward the middle of our formation, where a few Salamander Techmarines and Tech-priests of the Mechanicus band together to tackle the towering steel gate.
As expected, the Salamanders advocate for a thorough deployment of Melta explosives, quite practically blasting a gaping hole and calling it a day. However, the accompanying Techsorcists argue against the crude method, one that may as well be capable of bringing down the roof on their head. There's a nearby gate terminal, and expunging the corrupted Machine Spirit and scrap-code, thus seizing back the blast door control, should suffice. Both suggestions have merits, but I find myself wandering closer to where Tu'shan is, causing the towering Chapter Master to look down on me with curiosity.
"Master Tu'shan, I think we should prepare to blow a way through." My voice is steady, not too loud, but audible enough to the cordially arguing Techpriests and Techmarines behind us.
As they all look at me with varying biological or mechanical gazes, one of the Techmarines exclaims. "Finally! Someone else gets it. Still, I must wonder why you support our opinion, young Corporal?"
Seeing that even the Tech-priests, led by the familiar Magos Hedagine, are awaiting my answer, I shrug.
"Rather than saying that the lords' idea will save us precious time..." I nudge my head in the direction of the terminal. "Literally no one bothers to check for a booby trap, really?"
For a brief moment, the only sounds we can hear are the shouting and gunshots from the rear line that Mama is in charge of. That awkward silence will, however, be broken by the boisterous laugh from none other than Sergeant Tu'rok of Kharak Squad.
"Emperor witness, it couldn't be any more blatant than that! Buhahaha!" The Sergeant, alongside his Squad, who were subjected to 3rd Platoon's brand of concrete Catachan or Vietnam, find themselves latching onto that familiar dread that even a toilet could be a bomb.
Spurs by my question, Tu'rok's laugh, and Magos Hedagine's pointed look as if questioning why the lower-ranking Tech-priests haven't thought of doing something so fundamentally basic before suggesting a data purification, a Techsorcist orders an accompanying Servitor forward to probe the gate terminal with its built-in scanner. As everyone else, even the Terminators, gives the terminal a wide berth, Mama makes her appearance alongside Sister Tsavorae.
"What's the holdup?" Mama asks, looking at the Servitor and the sealed blast door.
Her answers come in the form of the Techsorcist's report. "The terminal is indeed booby-trapped with a small Melta charge. Whoever connects to it or presses the wrong button will trigger a catastrophic explosion. I will disable it right away."
"And that's all I need to hear." Mama frowns. "The rearline remains stable, for now, but if we wait too long, then we risk burning through all of our ammo."
"Allow us to handle the doorway, Lady Superior." The Techmarines step forth, their servo-arms assembling a large explosive charge using smaller Melta bombs.
Mama and Sister Tsavorae step aside, nodding at the Techmarines bearing heavy explosives. As they start tackling the door, Mama and Tsavorae give me a lookover, their concern palpable through their helmets.
"Don't worry. I am fine, you two." I holster my Laspistol briefly to give them a thumbs-up.
Tu'shan, standing nearby, interjects warmly. "If anything, Ein has the bearing of a Salamander Breacher. She hasn't faltered in her stride, not even once, when attacks of any kind impacted her shield."
Tu'shan then eyes my Carpace Shield with appreciation. "Black Steel, is it? A finely crafted shield for what needs to be done."
I look up at him in mild surprise. "You noticed all of that, Chapter Master?"
"Hah, I wouldn't be a Brother Leader now if I didn't pay attention to those who stand with me." Tu'shan smiles.
While I am impressed by the Salamander's battlefield awareness, being mindful enough to notice the little me being shot at, I am knocked awake by a swift bonk to the head. As I shake my head, muttering an 'Owie', I look at the source of the hit.
"What was that for!?" I ask with a grievance in my tone. It was Tsavorae that hit me with her armored fist.
Surprisingly, Mama turns to Tsavorae, offering a nod. "Thank you, I was just about to do the same."
"Eh?" I look at Mama, stumped by the sudden betrayal.
Tsavorae, however, turns to level me an admonishing glare through her red-tinted visor. "You dare question the bonk, Ein? Out of everything you could have chosen, you pick the shield, thus putting you in direct harm's way every single step of the way."
Mama Elyzabeth raises her hand, resting it upon the dented and scorched surface of my Black Steel. "We understand your decision, but it doesn't mean that we will find solace in it... Nonetheless, we're proud of your bravery. We only ask that you look out for yourself. You are not alone here."
"Hehe.. Thanks, Mama, Sister Tsavorae. I can only promise that I will try my best." My heart is happy that, even now, amidst an active battlezone, those I cherish still take the time to care for me. "So... Perhaps it's wrong for me to suggest an offensive tactic now?"
"... What do you have in mind?" Mama gives me another pointed look before asking in a measured tone.
I would have scratched my cheek in nervousness if I could. "It's more along the line of: what I am feeling, right now."
Having been silent and attentive to our surrounding area thus far, Sergeant Johnson pipes in from the sideline. "More of your gut feelings, Corporal?"
I nod, looking at the door being primed with explosives. "I can't tell for sure, but what lies beyond there... I think it will make those cultists look pretty in comparison."
My sensitive intuition is one thing, but it's my trained sensory ability that alerted me to the threats from beyond here. Obviously, I can't straight up spout everything that I sense. It will land me a seat in a misguided Inquisition's chamber faster than we could clear this HQ. So, I settle for yet another one of my instinct cards. While they all ponder my warning with all seriousness, Chief Librarian Vel'cona opens his eyes at last, having closed them for some time for reasons known only to himself.
"Our young Corporal is right. I can feel it, the slow thrumming tainted... An incursion of the Immaterium into our reality. Whatever it is, it's close by, and it could be awaiting us in ambush, right behind that door."
An accomplished Psyker, Vel'cona's words lend much credence to my already credible instinct. Being cautious never hurts. Tu'shan turns to me.
"You are suggesting...?"
"Aggressive recon, Master Tu'shan." I explain. "It seems clear enough that the enemy has been downplaying their strength while subtly pushing us toward a premeditated outcome. Rather than wading into the trap willingly, I think we can step out of the beaten paths, using a small, elite force to backtrack the routes these cultist harassers employ. With speed and firepower, this small detachment will ravage the heretics' backline, either to uncover the scale of their force deployment or to bait them out and fight on our terms. If possible, the detachment can further serve as a flanking unit in a pincer attack against the threats from beyond here."
Both Mama Elyzabeth and Chapter Master Tu'shan share a look. My recommendation hasn't been without a basis. Thus far, the assault force has been advancing as a cohesive unit, using overwhelming firepower to cut a path toward our objectives. For the most part, we have been going at it in the dark, tracing the paths we deem plausible to reach areas concentrated with energy reading. Those energy-concentrated sites, in turn, are probable locations to house the massive cogitators that run the local anti-air and anti-orbital turrets... If anything, that's a lot of what-ifs, and the Tzeentchian cultists meandering in the shadows could have very well constructed faux objectives to either confuse or ambush us. At this point, rather than relying on the strength in numbers aspect, we need a probing force to ascertain the way ahead. Sure, I can technically confirm things by myself, but once again, plausible deniability is required when it comes to dealing with Chaos.
Perhaps due to their wealth of field commanding experience, Mama and Tu'shan converse the necessary details with only a glance. So far, they have been playing it safe, perhaps to conserve our force. Yet, playing it safe is quite impossible when it comes to Chaos, and especially Chaos. Ultimately, Mama levels me a knowing, if severe look.
"I presume you will sign yourself and those of your Platoon for this separate detachment?"
"Mama, I don't think us mortals will be able to directly contend with something that may require the full force of the Astartes presence. The Guards can be better deployed more flexibly to support you all, rather than becoming liabilities when it matters most."
And ain't that true? Even if we employ a liberal use of Melta charges, the opened hole won't be enough for the full might of the assault force to be brought to bear. It's a fatal funnel circumstance, and if the cultists have already trained their entire arsenal against the blast door, we Cadians standing in between the front ranks of the Astartes will be nothing but needless casualties. Bad for morale, bad for our strength.
Mama let out a barely audible sigh before she turns to Tu'shan. Although the Joint Task Force runs on a Joint Command basis, it's been clear from the get-go that Tu'shan's words matter the most due to his well-earned seniority. Receiving the silent acknowledgement of my resolve from Mama, Tu'shan wastes no time at all to make his choice.
"Brother Mason, how much time do you need still to work out an explosive formula?" Tu'shan asks one of the Techmarines busy assembling a bomb big enough to form a hole that can fit at least four Dreadnoughts in width.
"It shouldn't be longer than five minutes, Chapter Master."
Tu'shan then turns to pan his gaze at our waiting 3rd Platoon. "The rest of the Guards will be required to protect our rear as we breach the blast door. However, I can give you three men, the best that will suit your task."
"I will relegate Palatine Tsavorae and a Squad of my bodyguards." Mama pitches in.
Finally, Magos Hedagine, who has been listening in on the conversation, steps up. "And I offer my service. My expertise can be of some use against sophisticated blockades that may impede the detachment's progress."
"Then, you will have our thanks, Magos." Mama Elyzabeth nods at the senior Tech-priest, who is armed appropriately for combat. "The detachment must maintain Vox contact with the main force, and make ready for rendezvous should the situation require it. Remember, you are only recons, not a strike team."
With my suggestion being taken seriously by the JTF leadership, I don't feel pride, only a sense of duty and responsibility. I, and by extension, 3rd Platoon, must accomplish what we set out to do. Although I do feel bad that I have cut ahead of Sergeant Johnson, it was an overreach of my authority, and I won't deny it. However, the Sergeant seems nonplussed when I direct my apologetic glance at him, and even smacks his lips in obvious confidence.
"Don't worry, milady and milord, recon is what 3rd Platoon is best at, alongside many other things."