Author Notes:
Well, I think this GSS mini-arc starts and ends on a good note. I think I did quite well with the limited knowledge I have about Warhammer. And yes, this spar is already finished on P-atreon, so do check Patreon out if you want an early glimpse. *Nudge* *Nudge* *Wink* *Wink*
Oh, I also post another batch of pictures for Weiss up there as well. Now, enjoy this chapter and don't forget to comment how you feel about this match-up!
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For my fics:
https://www.scribblehub.com/series/55793/reich-marshal-of-the-belkan-reich/
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https://photos.app.goo.gl/waZgkRa3UQhqKQBi9
https://www.scribblehub.com/series/1375924/in-the-grimdark-sector-with-a-system/
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"Crud." Comes the scoff of a Lucifer Black before pulling a piece of smooth alloy and tossing it at a Kaskrin sitting opposite him.
Plucking the surprisingly heavy piece of alloy out of the air, the Kaskrin smirks. "Pleasure doing business with you, Blackie."
The Kaskrin then throws the piece of alloy in the air a couple of times. "Huh, this is a bit heavier than 100 Thrones."
The Lucifer Black rolls his eyes before redirecting them back to the pict viewer hanging from the cantina's metallic wall. "Consider the surplus a bonus after your fellow Cadians impressed me with their initial engagement."
Smirking proudly as if the Kasrkin himself was the one that fired the shot that took out a Salamander Astartes, the Kasrkin says. "Then I'll be sure to get something good my wife in your honor!"
"You do that..." The Lucifer Black mumbles while downing a refreshment, bought from the overworked logistic cooks in the cantina.
Currently, members of the JTF that are off-duty are crowding in cantinas and venues that have pict viewers. All of whom are eager to see how the spar between transhumans and humans will unfold. Bets are not an uncommon sight, with even the Salamanders themselves participating in it as harmless fun. Of course, none of the bets are exorbitant in nature, it's why the JTF officers let them slide, opting to remind them to walk out of the bets while respecting the outcome, whatever it may be. Such loose management may be a travesty anywhere else, but this is the JTF, consisting of all the battle-hardened veterans in this corner of the galaxy. Fun is to be had whenever possible for the men and women who have denied Death in the face. Given their unique composition and nature, inflexible rules will only hamper the JTF's internal cohesion. Nonetheless, even with all the excitement generated by the matchup, none of the spectators dared to indulge in it. The words from their officers linger, they are to learn from the opportunity and use the example to improve upon themselves. On the very next day, it can very well be them that participate in a spar against someone, after all. As such, none of them want to miss a single thing. Having witnessed their subordinates' professionalism, the officers of the JTF are pleased.
On the screen, when the remaining Salamanders of Kharak Squad link up with Valmar who has managed to secure a counter-kill on the Cadian that zip-lined away from them, the Kasrkin comments.
"I'll admit, that trap worked out way better than I expected it to be."
The Lucifer Black nods in acknowledgment. "A melta charge as a high-quality feint, and a Cadian observer, acting as an expendable lure. These two, when combined with the urban setting, played into the psychology of the Salamanders, who favor close-quarter-battles. The Salamanders willingly walked themselves into a multi-layered trap, and they paid first blood out of that. That ruse was one of the oldest tricks in the book, known by all, but everyone is still susceptible to faceplanting themselves because of it. I am, however, surprised by how well the makeshift mines performed. They worked as well as small, dedicated anti-vehicle mines despite being crafted from scraps. Getting through the armored boot of an Astartes is not as easy as one may expect."
The Kasrkin shrugs, knowing that there isn't much to explain as both of them, as part of the Tempestus Scions, know the effectiveness of an IED well.
"But not impossible, an underground penetrator, depending on the material of its making, can still pop the toe of an Astartes, as we have seen being simulated. Now that I think about it, those EFPs 3rd Platoon made are basically big Toe-poppers. Gnarly stuff, all of them. That said, luck also played a big role in this. There's no guarantee the Salamander would step directly on a mine, after all."
The Lucifer Black nods. "Luck always plays a big role, even for us, much less them."
"Truer words have never been spoken." The Kasrkin offers a toast to the Black. "It's quite unfortunate that one 3rd Platoon guy couldn't run away in time."
"No one can outrun an Astartes, especially one going on a hell path after being thrown out of a roof and his friend got mucked." The Lucifer Black comments. At least there are still 23 members of 3rd Platoon left while there are only 5 Salamanders."
"That ain't a fair fight at all, man." Both the Kasrkin and the Lucifer Black chuckle.
Together, they watch as the Salamanders dive into the urban alleyways, dodging a mortar barrage that falls on where they once were.
"Smart." The Kaskrin says. "The mortar crews got the trap area already ranged."
"The effectiveness is limited, if there's any at all. An Astartes can just outrun the shells before they can even land." The Black adds.
"Yeah, but the mortar got them to be displaced. Knowing that they can't walk in the open, however, the Salamanders will have to stay in the shadows. Nonetheless, they know where the mortars are coming from now, so they at least have a direction to go." The Kasrkin states while looking at the Salamanders on the screen, noticing how they all break out into a sprint.
"This will be bad for them though..." The Black comments, having an inkling as to what's going on when he references 3rd Platoon's prior preparation."
"Oh no," The Kasrkin smirks before downing his drink. "This will be fucking annoying."
Without further comments, the duo and the rest of the cantina watch as the Salamanders come across a suspicious object. While the spectators outside are given a clear, highlighted breakdown of what the object is, the Salamander Astartes don't have such luxury. All the Astartes can see is a crisscrossing set of tripwires, going from the ground up to the height of the average Astartes. There is no visible explosive, but having learned their lesson from earlier, the Salamanders choose to err on the side of caution. They could try to defuse the trap, but the thing is...
"That's just a bunch of wires, it's not even connected to anything but an empty plastic bottle..." The Lucifer Black smiles wryly.
The Kasrkin laughs directly. "Emperor above, that is such a devious, if annoying thing to come across for any Astartes. Even if the whole thing was actually mined, they couldn't even defuse it properly with their big fingers. Cadian explosives aren't exactly made to be Astartes compatible, much less one made from scrap."
"Then there's the fact that they are psychologically affected, not to a large extent, of course, but they are now overtly cautious. Kharak Squad goes straight to search for an alternative path instead of checking whether the trap is actually real or not. That is honestly such a rookie mistake." The Lucifer Black is quite baffled.
"Can you blame them? I highly doubt an Astartes, even one from the Salamander's First, have encountered an opponent that invested so heavily in such mundane traps and tricks. Orks don't ambush, at least not truly, while most cultists do so by screaming bloody murder. Not even the Drukkari or T'au employ these low-tech techniques. Quite frankly, only a rare breed of sane humans can come up with this clever subterfuge."
The Black raises a corner of his lips upward. "You're talking about you Cadians?"
"Or the Catachan Jungle Fighters." The Kaskrin replies. "I saw some of those chaps worked their crafts before. And 3rd Platoon? They pulled out the whole shebang from the Catachan playbook: Devious trappings, psychological manipulation, misdirection... They used everything in the grace period before the spar commenced. Quite frankly, the best thing the Salamanders can do is to throw caution out of the window and charge through. They will take losses, but they will also ruin the meticulous plan 3rd Platoon has."
"I am starting to have a newfound sense of respect for the members of 3rd Platoon. That unit is a collection of uniquely adept individuals." The Lucifer Black admits, remembering how the entire Cadian Platoon worked together to set up a crude but effective welcoming committee for the Astartes.
The two Scions then fall into a contemplative silence once more as Kharak Squad finally finds a breakthrough in the labyrinth of alleyways and dark corners, one that is still mined with explosives, but easily bypassed by dashing and using a ledge as a platform to jump before kicking a wall to boost them over the set of traps. It's an impressive feat of acrobatics, to be sure, especially when the Astartes are big and heavy in their power armor. As the five Salamanders of Kharak Squad advance deeper into the bowel of the city, they come across suspicious activity. Slowing down from their methodical sprint, the Salamanders use their enhanced hearings to detect the noise of vehicle engines running.
Nodding to one another, the Astartes of Kharak Squad advance in the shadow provided by the flanking buildings. Closer and closer to the source of the commotion, the Astartes determine that the sounds come from a set of vehicle treads and are very close. In fact, they are only separated by a building block. This may very well be the mortar unit that fired on Kharak Squad relocating elsewhere. Unwilling to let the supposed Cadians speed their way out of here on a presumably commandeered or salvaged vehicle, the Astartes act decisively and charge. Three of them dash out in the open while the remaining two run straight through the alley walls like tanks. The distance is short, so the time of exposure to the Cadian snipers is very brief. By the time the snipers on the dilapidated tower react, the Salamanders are already on top of the suspicious site of activity.
It is, in fact, a large warehouse with a large cargo bay for vehicles to come and go. The warehouse itself seems tall and sturdy enough, it's no wonder while at the same time overlooking a sizeable portion of a three-way intersection that also leads to the base of the Cadian-controlled tower. It makes sense that 3rd Platoon decided to use it as a firebase, rather than putting all of their eggs in one basket. The Salamanders, the two that run through buildings to get to higher ground, notice the two metal tubes that poke partially over the top of the collapsed ferrocrete roof of the warehouse. This detail, when combined with the audible vehicle rumbling sounds and the heat signatures that are detected through the gaps of the rundown infrastructure, seems to reinforce the notion that 3rd Platoon has split its force.
Without wasting their time, the two Astartes on the higher floor of a flanking building open fire on the heat signatures. Their intention is to cover the advance of their brothers, unnecessary as it may be. Under the suppressive fire provided by the two up on high, the rest of Kharak Squad runs straight through the flimsy walls of the warehouse, just before a burst of visible laser beams hits where they were a few steps ago. The snipers of 3rd Platoon's interception fire do seem to lend credence to the fact that the warehouse is garrisoned by a contingent of their force. However, when Tu'rok and two other Salamanders storm in, the only thing they see moving is a Centaur armored utility vehicle constantly spinning in a circle in the middle of the warehouse. Not a single soul can be seen in the driver's seat of the Cadian workhorse. Looking to the side and upward in alarm, the three Salamanders see the true nature of the supposed garrison of the warehouse. They are nothing but dummies, tinfoil wrapped around a bunch of sticks and miniature stoves that when combined together, form vaguely humanoid shapes that fool the Astartes' helmet sensors.
These dummies were positioned in a way that masks their true nature from a cursory visual scan. Earlier, Kharak Squad made a hasty decision to charge in, sparing them but a minimal time frame to perform a visual inspection. As such, they relied on their helmet sensors to identify potential threats and fired upon the heat signatures belonging to the supposed Cadian garrison. When in truth, not a living soul was inside.
In other words, the Astartes were bamboozled, and they only just realized it.
Through the pict viewer, the spectators see Tu'rok turn on his heels and urge his brothers to get out of the warehouse. His action is swift, decisive even, and prompted by the veteran's instinct that the warehouse is another major setup. Quite unfortunately, it's a setup that Tu'rok has willingly led his brothers in. This quick decision ultimately spares the three Astartes inside the warehouse the fate of being blown sky-high, however, as the whole building explodes. The Salamander Astartes jump out of the warehouse through the way they came from. It's an inelegant jump and landing, however, as even their bulks are thrown away by the shockwave of a gigantic fertilizer bomb going up in flame. One of them is even thrown away and slams into a streetside dumpster knocking its nasty content all over himself and the floor.
Thankfully for Kharak Squad, Tu'rok's swift warning spared them another round of elimination. That said, their tribulation is not yet over as other than the two Salamanders providing overwatch, Tu'rok, and the remaining two Astartes are out in the open once more. So, understandably, the Salamanders react how they should. The two overwatch turns and unleash a hail of bolt rounds in the direction of the tower, trying to cover their displaced brothers. Tu'rok and the rest use the covering fire to swiftly regain their bearing. These actions occur in less than ten seconds, yet, it's a good enough window of opportunity for one particular Cadian of 3rd Platoon.
On one of the upper floors of the tower, Ein lies in a prone position behind a murky but largely intact glass panel. She stays in the shadow offered by the clutters in the room, barely visible if one doesn't know where to look for her, while the long distance and the glass panel in front of the Cadian Corporal render the Salamanders' sensors ineffective. In the seconds it takes for the Salamanders to suppress the more visible Weiss and Johnson's unit on the lower floors, Ein already has a target chosen and her scope aligned. Then, she squeezes the trigger with a calm, deliberate slowness that seems disharmonic with the thumping of bolt rounds hitting the tower she's in and the barks of orders and shouts of her Platoon mates. A soft click, a hum in the air, an invisible beam boring through the brownish glass panel... When Tu'rok stands up with a hand pushing back on the ground while another is clutching his slightly battered bolter, he is swiftly stunned, his helmet-covered head knocked backward. In the seconds it takes for two of his battle brothers to run into cover, Tu'rok's body falls back onto the pavement with a resounding clang. As if shocked by the sudden elimination of their Squad Leader, the two Salamanders that are firing at the tower stop, with all of Kharak Squad turning to look at Tu'rok's body.
From the time the warehouse exploded until Tu'rok's elimination, everything occurred in less than ten seconds. Yet, Ein only needed one second to identify a target of opportunity through the thickening smoke plume generated by the warehouse's explosion. Less than one second is needed for Ein's laser beam to burn through a glass panel, crossing hundreds of meters, and hitting the left eye socket of an Astartes's helmet. That helmet, fortunately or unfortunately depending on who you are rooting for, belongs to none other than Tu'rok, the leader of Kharak Squad.
It's a wonderful kill, a major win even, for 3rd Platoon. Nonetheless, Ein takes no joy in achieving the kill, opting to swiftly vacate her position once more in fear of retaliation fire. Her feat is not unfounded as numerous bolt rounds impacted where she once was and destroyed many broken furniture and office desks. From the intensity of the barrage alone, it would seem the four surviving Salamanders are incensed. Simulated as the battle arena maybe, seeing their brother and leader knocked out unceremoniously like that is not something one would take kindly to.
It doesn't change the fact that Ein is already long gone by the time the Salamanders retaliate, nor does it stop a synthesized voice from announcing.
"Double Kill! Tu'rok of the Salamander, eliminated!"
Is it just the spectators, or does that shot come surprisingly too easy? Yet, when people review that sniper shot once more, none can find fault in the intricate setups or the Corporal who took the shot. Everything is meticulously planned, one building block carefully placed upon another to create a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And the shooter, Ein, grasped and executed it so perfectly that left even the Lucifer Blacks marvel at the efficiency. Those who are in the known, primarily coming from the Cadian 8th, all sport understanding expression, however. If Ein can snipe a distance target using an old Kantrael without a scope, then Emperor bless whoever is on the other end of an Ein equipped with a Long-las.
It's as if the Emperor Herself guides every one of Ein's shots. The Corporal's unerring precision is no less potent than her mind when put to work.
Later on, when asked to comment about Ein's knockout shot, Tu'rok has this to say.
"Finally, a worthy opponent! I accept my defeat with grace! If the opportunity arises, I will invite her to a contest of firearm finesses. Our battle will be legendary!"
It has to be noted that Tu'rok is a holder of Marksman's Honour, an award attributed to those who have shown remarkable accuracy with ranged weapons or consistently perform far-above-average in targeting foes. Tu'rok's comment and proposed contest will then go on to be a part of a series of accolades, dedicated to Ein, but that will be a story for another day.