Author Notes:
So, new GSS chapter is up, fun times as always but... I think I need to get some words out on this matter.
Dear loyal readers, supporters, and Patrons. On behalf of my mother, I sincerely thank you all of you for the constant wonderful support for my two fanfics/stories. You all have no idea how much this meant for the both of us. Nonetheless, recent events have made it so that I can't ignore this illogical failing of the relationship between Patreon and the iOS platform, and by extension Apple.
For those who don't know, payments made to Patr-eon through the iOS/Apple platform will be witheld from the Content Creators by iOS/Apple for 75 days! That is 75 days too long for anyone that is depending on Patreon for a living, and trust me, it's not just me who is having their heart being torn apart by this stupid and overdrawn process. I have communicated with a few other Creators, and they reported the same, quite frankly letting a man to die of thirst trouble. Worst, iOS/Apple forced Patrons to pay for a much higher price than the Web or Android version of Patreon. In other words, Patrons will be overcharged when using Patreon iOS/Apple.
In short, Patrons pay stupid money for the same benefits offered on other Pat-reon platform, and the Creators have to wait ages for a money that may as well arrive after they're dead. For me and my Mom in particular, this is in no shape or form sustainable for both the Creators and Patrons. Creators like me can't plan our lives over a salary that is so deep in the flux as iOS/Apple only release the Patrons' donation after 75 days. So, to quote my Mom's words:
Please don't waste your hard earn money on iOS/Apple Patr-eon, it's best if you don't even bother going through that particular platform at all. We don't want you to be severely affected by a platform that is so money hungry that they take from both the Creators and the Patrons. If you can help us by going above and beyond using the other Patreon platforms, then we will be forever grateful. But for the love of everything that's holy, don't let your hard works being vandalized by iOS/Apple!
Thank you for reading this far in, everyone. And my apologies for holding you off from enjoying the story. This is a blanket PSA that I will be showing on the RM side of things as well.
Peace be with you all.
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Overlooking the absolute devastation of a No Man's Land, I let out a smirk when Sergeant Johnson looks up and gives me a two-finger salute.
Overlooking the absolute devastation of a No Man's Land, I let out a smirk when Sergeant Johnson looks up and gives me a two-finger salute. That said, I promptly lose the grin when my eagle-eyed gaze sees the incapacitating injuries some of my Platoon members, family in all but name, now sporting. A lost hand can be easily replaced with a good-quality prosthetic, now that we have access to the Iron Revenant's skilled Tech-priests and top-of-the-line fabricator. If not, I can even craft a custom prosthetic limb for the one-handed Surbella down there. However, it's Anders whom I am worried about the most. Just from a cursory glance, the Guardsman will have to undergo an intense surgery to replace some of the broken or lost bone around his skull.
Hell, I won't be surprised if 3rd Platoon ends up with our version of Two-Face, albeit a bit more metallic than burned skin or whatever the hell happened to the man.
As I watch Johnson and the rest reorganize the frontline that is now charred and cratered like it got blasted by Mount Etna, I idly reload my Lasrifle, letting the soft clacks and clinks fill the rear compartment of Blake's aircraft. Although I wasn't an active participant in finishing off the last Regalia Dorn, Weiss and I were working overtime to keep back the cultists from truly swarming the area as Johnson laid his trap. The other VTOLs in the Flight also pitched in, eliminating any heretic reinforcements or at least pushing them back so that the boys and girls on the ground could ambush the Regalia Dorn. It worked, as we've all seen earlier, but the process resulted in our VTOLs running Winchester on munitions. In other words, our air support is running low on ammunition.
Blake says that the Multi-Lasers and Lascannons are still perfectly usable, but things like rockets and missiles, we ran out of them a long time ago. Given that we have been all over this side of Installation 08 in the last twenty minutes, which felt like hours, it's not surprising that we're kinda running on fumes. The same can be said for Johnson's group, which was in the thick of it. I turn to Weiss, who is busy working her dataslate and tuning her Vox-caster to catch up on what's going on on the other parts of the front. Her gloved fingers are caked with a layer of propellant residue from firing the door-mounted Heavy Bolters. Viewing her focused expression from the side, with some strands of her silver hair resting in front of her shoulders, I can't help but see Weiss as an attractive lady.
Surprise? Too fast for ya? Well, can you blame me? Adrenaline is high, Weiss is both pretty, competent, mature despite her faux Rookie act, and very loyal, judging from the time we spent as Battle-buddies. She's all a girl will ever need in life, and in the Warhammer universe, that's a damn precious person to hold close to. Granted, I can shamelessly admit that someone like my Mama ticks all of my boxes, but Weiss is quite high up there in the appreciation list, beaten only by Tsavorae and the Emperor Herself, who hold the second and third place, respectively. Why is the Emperor in third place despite our very unique bond? That's because I have principles and standards. Mama and sister Tsavorae have been in my heart for the longest, even the Emperor, with her now divine charisma won't be able to shake that.
This is something that the Emperor Herself knows in one of our idle chatters through my apparently 24/7 livestreaming in the Belkan Imperialis Chatroom. I giggled to myself when the Emperor sent me a pouting emoji (something I didn't know you could do) after I said that Mama and sister Tsavorae were and still are more beautiful in my heart.
Of course, both of us were just goofing around in our rare moments of free time. Now that I am part of the Operation on Installation 08, though, the Emperor opts to be a silent but watchful spectator in the stream. My instinct is telling me that, even when shit hits the fan, I am expected to solve everything on my own, and I am perfectly ok with that. Can't have the Emperor step in and ruin Her carefully curated crisp white sheet unless...
Someone from the Immaterium tries to cheat their way into the Materium. Now that would be something the Emperor will be pulling the kiddie gloves off.
But that's beside the point now, ain't it?
After catching my glance in her direction, Weiss looks up at me with a raised eyebrow over her blue eyes. I've been catching the reports trickling into our Vox net, thanks to Weiss sharing everything through her Vox-Caster. The initial landing force of the Cadian 8th has weathered through the worst of the enemy's major counterattack. Now that the bulk of the JTF is around ten minutes away, the first operational phase is nearly over. Still, there's probably an endless amount of enemies hiding in the buildings deeper into Installation 08 or even underground, like before. So, it ain't no time to chill, not any time soon.
I shake my head in Weiss' direction, sporting a wry grin. I then open a comm link to our dear pilot", Blake. "Can you hover some ten meters above Johnson's location? I need to top him up with some supplies.
"Sure thing, Corporal." Comes the voice of our Felinid airgirl.
I then gesture my head to a corner of the Valkyrie, where a rucksack of wartime supplies is carefully packed. "Help me push this thing off for the friends on the ground, Rookie."
Weiss nods before hopping to her feet and helping me move the bulky rucksack. "Holy... This is as heavy as I am. Did Johnson pack an entire arsenal in this thing?"
I chuckle. "I think they managed to pack a Krak missile inside this sack, Weiss."
At the thought of the two of us tossing out a potentially hazardous rucksack, Weiss stalls just before we carry the supplies to the door of the rear compartment. "... Is it a good idea to toss this thing outside? Will it explode on impact?"
I shrug. "I don't think we make any of our that volatile, right?"
As if my question pacifies her worry, Weiss ultimately helps me loft the thing out the side of the Valkyrie, right into Johnson's waiting arms, kinda. But then I say this.
"Oh, but we do have some Plasma Energy Cells in the rucksack..."
Weiss pales, nervously looking out of the side of the Valkyrie as the rucksack slams heavily into the ground, even bouncing once, before Johnson's foot puts a stop to its momentum. Weiss sighs in relief with a trickle of cold sweat running down her cheek, which I cheekily wipe away with a smirk. Weiss doesn't act all blushing like a schoolgirl, but she does look at me with thinly concealed exasperation, evident by her twitching eyebrow and the way she directs her eyes that now mirror those of a dead fish.
"... Does that backpack really contain the cells for their Plasma Gun?"
"Yup~!" I pop the 'p', giggling when Weiss starts massaging her temple and muttering something about how 3rd Platoon hasn't had any KIA, even after she joined. "For what it's worth, Johnson didn't skim on packing those things securely. And we're using the pristine power cells nowadays, so the risk is minimal."
"I will just take your words for it then. I was legit more scared of that rucksack going off than getting shot at..." Weiss complains.
I give her one last smirk and a pat on the shoulder before contacting Blake, telling her that we're good to resume our patrol. As the VTOL rejoins the rest of the Flight, we find ourselves in a brief lull where we aren't being shot at or are shooting at somebody. Only the distant sounds of fighting prove that the Chaos cultists aren't giving up just yet. Right now, the heretics in this region are probably reorganizing their forces after experiencing a big setback. They're still here, waiting for a weakness in our line to show itself before driving a knife deep into it. This is always the case with a Chaos force led by Tzeentch's cult.
As our VTOLs patrol just slightly above the top of the war-torn buildings, trying to get even a glimpse of these heretics who hide themselves deep, I find myself being tugged at by my trusty sidekick, instinct. It's a sharp, piercing alarm that rings on mechanical repeat, kinda like a Bitching Betty telling us to:
"Blake! Dive! Dive! Dive!" I shout the warning into the Flight's Vox channel while swiftly putting a hand on Weiss' shoulder just in case I have to do something drastic.
Although my forewarning was brief and shocking, just the sheer alarm in my tone was more than enough to spur the experienced pilots to take a nose-dive, acting out of instinct more than anything.
The Roughnecks are fine, given that Yang and Blake are already close to some taller buildings, so they fly the Valkyries behind them to hide. But one of the Phoenixes, however, is caught in the unfortunate position of flying above a bunch of slum-like areas with no suitable terrain for cover.
"Missile warning! Chaffs... Flares!"
"Too late!"
Although the Vulture frantically dumps its countermeasures, they prove to be inadequate in deterring a high-speed missile from hitting its rear. The Flakk missile explodes, knocking clean off its right stabilizer and engine. As parts and oil fly everywhere in the air, the Vulture starts spiraling out of control.
"Mayday! Mayday! This is Phoenix 1-2! We took a big hit and lost starboard surface control and engine power! We're going down! We're goin-"
The Vox communication fizzles out of existence, replaced by a deafening static as we see the downed Vulture crashing through a building before slamming into the road below. Before any of us can even say anything, a blur flies over our formation of VTOLs, leaving behind a pronounced screeching of jet engines. To be even more specific, that aircraft has flown right above Roughneck 1-1, the very aircraft Weiss and I are passengers on.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the Lightning that flew past us was the one that shot down Phoenix 1-2.
As the Lightning painted in blue and gold circles around at a breakneck speed and at a low altitude, the dread is very real when we notice that it's gunning for Blake's Valkyrie, us.
"Blake!" Yang's alarmed voice can be heard through Vox.
"I know! Damn it!" This time around, it's us who are caught in the open. That Chaos Lightning is approaching us from an angle we don't have anything to hide behind, not unless we can make a tight circle to get to the other side of the very building we just used earlier.
The Valkyrie is many things, but a tofu delivery car it is not.
Blake preemptively dumps flares and chaffs, hopefully to confuse the Lightning's missile system. However, the Lightning has more than just a few missiles. It has an Autocannon and a pair of Lascannons, things that can make us fall out of the sky in one shot.
"Weiss!"
"I'm on it!" Without further ado, we both run to the left side of the Valkyrie, with Weiss pulling out the Heavy Bolter once more and starting to spray at the Lightning on the attack vector.
Yang and Phoenix 1-1 ignore the loss of their comrades earlier and peak out above their cover, discharging their weapons madly at the hostile airframe as well. Yet, even with the advantage of using laser weapons, the Lightning lives true to its name and maneuvers out of the way before the barrels of the laser weapons even come close to being pointed at its fuselage. It even makes a rolling maneuver in the direction of our remaining allied airframes and launches two missiles, forcing Roughneck 1-2 and Phoenix 1-1 to dive back into cover. For the next critical moment, Blake, Weiss, and I are on our own against something that veritably outgunning us in almost every aspect...
Almost.
"Blake, hold your course." My command must have sounded so out there that Blake couldn't control herself from growling.
"Are you out of your mind!?"
"Just do as she said!" Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Weiss decides to trust in me, in my skill, and shouts for Blake to comply with my unreasonable command.
"If this doesn't work, I am so gonna tie you two to a headboard!" Blake shouts into the Vox-link as she stabilizes the flight path of her Valkyrie.
Still, tying us both to a headboard.. That's very kinky of you, Blake.
Jokes aside, it's time to focus on the nitty-gritty part. As Weiss' Heavy Bolter unleashes its last barrage of bolt rounds at the increasingly larger Lightning, I rest my Lasrifle on the sniping harness. Flicking the power setting all the way to the 'Fuck it, we ball' level, I let the rest of the world fade out. The blasts created Weiss' Heavy Bolter, the vibration of Blake's Valkyrie, the grimy air of Installation 08... Even the world itself is losing its luster, darkened by war as it might be. In other words, I consciously dampened everything around me, not muted because I obviously still need to react to certain inputs. I do so because I need to focus, now more than ever, to make perhaps one of the greatest shots of my life.
I will shoot down that damnable aircraft.
As the Chaos Lightning draws closer to our danger zone, conscious enough to maneuver out of the way of Weiss' tracers, the question is not when, but where to pull the trigger. I have but a split second to decide, and my instinct warns that I only have one shot, so I have to make it count. In the brief moment it takes for a bead of sweat to form on Weiss' temple, my brain has done multiple sets of mental gymnastics that will put some of the Tech-priests to shame.
A shot at the cockpit, trying to knock out the pilot? Even with my Lasrifle at full power, it's hard to say whether a single beam can get through that thick Armaglass protecting the cockpit. I can't even count on the shot disabling the targeting sight on the Lightning.
Taking a shot at the engine? Once again, the issue stems from insufficient firepower. The air intakes of the Lightning are quite robust, capable of eating some heavy flak before falling apart.
With only one shot, I can't even disable the three cannons the enemy aircraft has, which leaves just one option.
The last remaining Flakk missile the Lightning, is still carrying.
Situated next to its left engine, the Flakk missile is of the Skystrike variant, a heavy missile with an equally big warhead. So, what will happen if I destroy it?
In the brief moment I lay my rifle scope on the skull of the heretic pilot, I let out a wild, 'Gotcha' smirk. As I move my scope away and rest it directly on the Flakk warhead painted red, I have an inkling feeling that the enemy pilot must have felt something akin to alarming dread shooting up his spine. Yet, unlike my trusty instinct, his clocks in too little, too late.
"Bang." I mutter with a grin as I pull the trigger.
Faster than the eyes can see, the supercharged laser beam from my rifle melts through the protective cone of the Flakk warhead in the Skystrike Missile. Then...
KABOOM
A massive blast tears through the Chaos Lightning's airframe, completely obliterating its entire left half before forcing the rest to spin out of control and crash into an already destroyed building. The right half then promptly explodes as well, its remaining Promethium and ammo detonating in a collective ball of flame. Because my Lasrifle is equipped with a suppressor, most don't know what just happened to the Lightning that was gunning for our VTOL, all except Weiss.
My battle-buddy, for the most part, looks at me with a mixture of relief, awe, and, most predominantly, the trust that I will be able to pull out a miracle.
"What the fuck just happened?" Phoenix 1-1 asks a question that none but Weiss and I can answer.
Nonetheless, we opt to fist bump before chuckling to ourselves first. I then say into the Vox-link, redirecting their attention back to a no less important subject.
"Rather than asking questions, it will be best for us to get to Phoenix 1-2's crash site. That's hostile territory they just crashed into."
"No one gets left behind on my watch."