Author Notes:
Not gonna lie, this GSS chapter went much harder than it should in my mind.
Kehum~! Now, back to your usual schedule PSA of me begging for aid lol
Seriously though, the monthly discount is still running to the 24th! Grab your ranks now and support the Imperium and the Belkan Reich in glorious conquest (and also to help me pay the upcoming rent, pretty please)!
Also also, I am quite positive that my AI program is borked, so no picture generation, at least for now... Me sad.
https://www.patr-eon.com/Heartbreak117
https://ko-fi.com/heartbreak117/goal?g=0
Income goal 790/8800 USD (Mom is now signed up for medical therapy every week, so the increase is to help me cover the treatment cost. Many thanks to whoever is helping me reach that mark.)
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With red beams, yellow tracers, and white contrails interweaving amidst a backdrop of hazy urban combat, Installation 08 is a hotbed for Total War. Aircraft belonging to both Imperials and Chaos alike either dogfight or bomb their respective enemy. While the heretics lose out in the numbers of fielded airframes, they make up for that by bringing out all of their anti-aircraft armaments, further complicating the fight for aerial supremacy. However, it doesn't change the fact that Aeronautica Imperialis maintains the upper hand. The sheer number of air assets the JTF brought into this operation far outweighs anything the heretics are able to bring to bear, be they dedicated fighter jets or heavy anti-air weaponry, the latter of which were mostly deployed on the previously disabled perimeter stations. As such, the Aeronautica Imperialis is able to provide near-constant support to the Cadian 8th that is locked in a bitter brawl below them.
A Chaos Taurox, decked out with a makeshift Heavy Bolter turret and chaotic markings, comes gunblazing at the line of a besieged Cadian 8th Echelon. The heavy and indiscriminate suppressive fire forces the line of loyal Cadians to temporarily lessen their return fire, allowing more and more of the heretical cultists to charge at their defense line. Worse, two more vehicles of unknown designer appear and join the Taurox in its advance. Being armed technicals themselves, they unleash a hail of bullets from their twin-linked heavy stubbers. The dense barrage of leads focuses heavily on the known locations of the Cadians' heavy weapon teams. Unable to unleash their Plasma Gun or Missile Launcher on the horde that is getting dangerously close, the commanding officer of the Echelon has his vox operator dial a loud request for fire support and reinforcement. Being one of the unlucky units not in possession of a group of Droidekas, this Echelon instead relies on the old reliable ways of sheer numbers and handheld firepower, with additional ground support being rendered by highly mobile Sentinel hunter-killer units.
Nonetheless, now that the Sentinels are elsewhere where they are needed the most, this Echelon is left with only biological Guardsmen and Guardswomen against a withering hail of projectiles. Worse, from his vantage position on the frontline, the Echelon's commanding officer noticed the traitorous scums are setting up what seems to be a mortar emplacement. Bad news all around, given that their current defensive line has little to no roof for cover, and the trenches and foxholes are much too shallow. Yet, is this a cause for retreat?
"I don't lead no cowards and weaklings! Raise your heads and fight in the name of the Emperor!"
The answer is apparently not. The commanding officer inspires his mixed unit of Whiteshields and Regulars with a few name-calling and pointed curse words. Even the commanding officer himself takes to the frontline, fighting side by side with his subordinates despite the still bleeding bandage over his right eye. Crude, yes, but it's effective in getting them Lasrifles aligned in the direction of the heretics. Some of them may die with their heads or upper torsos punctured, but it's a sacrifice the Cadian 8th, and by extension the Imperium, is willing to make.
"Stand firm, brothers and sisters! Cadia stands because of you! The Imperium lasted because of you!" Barks the commanding officer, firing his Lasrifle out the window of his command post. "Ain't no Cadian a coward! Hold the line so our allies can send these sons of bitches back in the shitholes they crawled out of!"
Whether it's out of desperate stubbornness or reignited fighting spirit, all of the previously suppressed Cadians retaliate with a vicious ferocity that temporarily halts the charge of Chaos zealots. Limbs are torn, heads are evaporated off the shoulders of the cultists. One of the technicals has its entire front end bathed in volatile plasma fire, sending the panicked driver crashing in between the front and rear tracks of the Taurox next to it. As a heavier vehicle, the Taurox is able to climb over and crush the out-of-control technical effortlessly before its Heavy Bolter turrets spin and fire back at the fiercely defending Cadian 8th. Having placed themselves in semi-exposed postures, multiple casualties emerge near immediately among the Echelon's ranks. The overwhelming fire rate from the remaining Heavy Bolter and Heavy Stubber catches some Cadians, especially the less experienced Whiteshields, on the back foot. Even the commanding officer himself caught another hit to his Flak Vest, the bolt round overpenetrating his cover before exploding into multiple fragments that knock him flat on his back.
Spatting out blood and spite to one side of the room, the officer turns to his vox operator. "Urge the QRF! Otherwise, there won't be a damn LZ left for the main force! Now pick my sorry ass up and get back into the fight, Guardsman!"
Injuries and deaths are climbing at an alarming rate for this Echelon, but frankly, the same can be said for the other units that are part of the first wave in this operation. Their Echelon is but one among many to get the short end of the stick, having none of the mobile tanking units like the Droidekas or their usual Chimera IFVs. Yet, lacking in durability as they may be, the Cadians more than make up for it through sheer adamantium will, the 8th all the more so.
When the Taurox and the remaining technical crash through their defense line, crushing an unfortunate couple of injured Whiteshields, the vehicles first disgorge an unhealthy number of snarling cultists. In return, the loyal Cadians meet them with bayonet charges and blazing Lasrifles. The entire defense line of this particular Echelon soon devolves into a bitter and gory melee as the remainder of the horde charges into the fray, vastly outnumbering the already battered Cadians. Yet, whether they're Whiteshields or Regulars, injured or at their last knell, all rise to the occasion and meet the cultists with a fervor they never realize they have. At this point, facing the crazed cultists that splattered themselves with all sorts of markings for the multiple heretical gods of the Warp, the Cadians don't need an inspiring Commissar for them to fight like cornered rats.
Outnumbered four to one, and with no armor to contend with the Taurox and technical, common sense dictates this Cadian Echelon should have been the one to lose ground before swiftly being eliminated. Yet, against all odds, each Cadian manages to take down multiple enemies before going to the Golden Throne themselves. Even the Whiteshields have their moments of valor when a couple of them rush to the Chaos vehicles with explosives strapped to their Flak Vests. They're cut down in the end, but one of them manages to toss a Melta Charge at the nearest vehicle, which is the last technical with the twin-linked Heavy Stubber. The primed explosive soon engulfed the now deceased pair of Whiteshields and the armed technical in a blast of colorful light. Many other cultists shared the same fate as well, thus lessening the pressure exerted on the surviving Cadians, now hunkering down inside the command post.
As charred body parts fall down from the sky, the commanding officer and what's left of his Echelon are preparing to make their last stand when their sacrifices finally pay off. The sound of VTOL engines cut through the air like a sharp knife through butter. Neither the Cadians nor the cultists can react in time when an invisible laser obliterates the head of the heretic manning the Taurox's Heavy Bolter turret. The now deceased gunner's body slum down onto one side, the weight of his body makes the turret spin wildly counter-clockwise. Since his finger's still on the trigger, the Heavy Bolter indiscrimately unleashes a near-unending burst of bolt rounds among the cultists' ranks. Literal chaos ensues as what they used to harass the Cadians earlier is now turned against the treacherous heretics. To end their misery, a bright, visible red beam came down from the sky, fired from a Lascannon. This is soon followed by a burst of multiple, smaller laser beams alongside a hail of bolt rounds. The normal, squishy bodies of the cultists, decorated and adorned with heretical embellishments as they are, stand no chance against good old firepower.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
Capping it off with a few Frag rockets being unleashed in the thickest concentration of heretics, the newly arrived reinforcement announces.
"This is Roughneck 1-1. QRF is on station, preparing to deploy ground force. Sorry, we're late." A pair of Valkyries swoop over the command post, their weapons and their passengers never once stop firing at the straggling cultists below them.
Switching the Comm-link on his cracked and bloodied helmet, the commanding officer replies.
"Well, better late than never. Was about to give them an ass-whooping ourselves before you flyers show up."
"We had to dodge some nasty missiles, sir. Now that we're here, allow us to assist."
"I won't say no to the offer, girlie. Help us burn those motherfuckers."
"Gladly."
As the passengers of the two Valkyries start fast-roping down the sides of the gunships, an Aeronautica Imperialis Avenger comes flying in fast. Passing the Valkyries and the smoking command post, the Avenger drops two silvery-painted objects on the avenue the horde used to overwhelm the Echelon earlier. The silver objects are, in fact, bombs filled with nothing but volatile Promethium. When the bombs make contact with the ground, they all burst in an overwhelming blaze that lingers and sets the whole corpse-laden street aflame. This creates the perfect cover and also eliminates what's left of the horde, allowing Roughneck 1-1 and 1-2 to deploy Sergeant Johnson's Froggers unimpeded.
The Froggers may not have much in terms of number, but they're as deadly as they can get without being Tempestus Scions. Most important of all, they still have one heck of a sniper providing aerial overwatch. This whole avenue and the LZ behind it may as well be placed under permanent lockdown from here on out. - The commanding officer of the Echelon thought to himself before passing out after handing over the commanding right of his remnant force to Sergeant Johnson.
The man sure fought well enough to earn a medal and a pair of prosthetics, alright.