Author Notes:
Apologies for the slight delay in releasing this new GSS chapter. Took me a bit more time in getting the semi-wrapped up part of GSS planned and fitted for typing down. But anyway, here we are, at the start of yet another month that I just somehow know, it's gonna be a long and grueling one.
I can just feel it in my gut, man. Seriously, a nagging part in me is actually telling me to get my will and whatnot in order. You know, just in case? Though I do know that I literally have nothing to leave behind, other than the stuff I typed down on the net. Speaking of that, again, if you don't see me in more than three months straight, you can safely assume the worst.
The funniest part is, I don't even know why I have this feeling. Could be bogus, could be because I am lacking in either sleep or coffee or both, but yeah. Something is real funny about this month, man. I hope it's just false alarm.
Anyway, without further ado, please enjoy the chapter. Do comment, review, and you know where to find me~! Hit the Support button, try and aim for that Monthly Discount (which is running from now to the 24th!) on Patreon, or join up on Discord for more details!
https://www.patreon.com/Heartbreak117
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"There!" A surviving veteran points beyond the ruin at a structure that is built into the rusting walls of Installation 08. "Our guys are up there!"
"Good catch, Guardsman." The Priest nods to the man with keen eyes. "Can someone try to see if we can establish contact with them?"
The Guardsmen oblige the request, but moments later, one of them, who is wearing a Vox-caster, shakes his head. "Vox remains scrambled, Sir. I'm afraid we will have to do this the old-fashioned way..."
The Priest exhales softly.
"It really isn't easy for us all, huh. A trial we must overcome indeed..." The Priest mutters to himself before nodding at the Vox-caster operator. "See to it that you do what it takes to establish contact with our friends from above. The rest of us will cover you."
"Yes, Sir!"
The Guardsman promptly gets to work, and the Priest soon sees what the man means by the old-fashioned way. Pulling out a torch, the Guardsman cranks its light level to the max before pointing it at the Cadians in the tall structure, flashing it on and off in repeated sequences.
"Good old light signals," Another veteran who stands nearby the Priest comments. "When things like useless Vox happened, coded communication by light and smoke signals became the useful replacements. Of course, they aren't always reliable, and can be cracked if a traitor exists with a working brain."
"Have it failed you before, Guardsman?" The Priest asks in a curious tone as he watches the people in the distance structure begins flashing back-coded signals.
"More than I would like... But from what I can see, we're being aided by the professionals, Sir." The veteran replies before adding. "Seems to me that they want to see if we can get to them for MEDEVAC. They will cover us as we move out."
"Can you understand what they say?" The Priest looks at the wordless communication between his group and the reinforcements. "Fascinating... Perhaps I should brush up on the topic of military signals when I get back. It's indeed a useful and important thing to know."
"That it is, Sir. Anyway, your call, Sir? We either set out for our allies' location, or we stick around here and wait for the blockade to be lifted by others?
The Priest shakes his head. "Faith can keep us in the fight, but faith alone won't be enough to keep our casualties alive to serve the Emperor for another day. Although there are certainly risks in moving out, it's the only way I can see that we can get these brave men and women some actual medical treatments."
"I understand, Sir. I will see if we can get one of our vehicles back online to ferry the casualties."
"Proceeds, Guardsman." The Priest nods, letting the veteran move swiftly toward some of the damaged vehicles that were part of the convoy that got them all here.
Most of the Cadian armored fighting vehicles were lost in the initial ambush and the subsequent attack waves. However, by a stroke of luck and the Emperor's Blessing, a badly damaged Chimera IFV and a Centaur armored utility vehicle remain operable. Unfortunately, the Chimera has lost its main turret, and its gearbox is out of order, turning its impressive mobility into something akin to an infantry parade speed. But for what it's worth, it's the only vehicle that can carry the multiple casualties the unit has in a protected manner.
Under the covering fire of the reinforcement party's dead-accurate sniper, the survivors manage to swiftly load the war casualties onto the Chimera and Centaur. Those that are badly wounded are laid in the troop compartment of the Chimera, whereas those that are hurt but can still fight either manned the Heavy Stubber on the Centaur or are cramped on its back with Lasrifles in their hands. The Priest and other quite healthy survivors will travel on their feet, escorting the two vehicles as they navigate the urban streets of Installation 08. Coincidentally, the Centaur, with its equipped Dozer Blade and a still capable powerplant, will travel ahead of the Chimera, using its horsepower to push out any object that will otherwise impede the damaged IFV and turn it into a sitting duck.
Eventually, the preparation work is done, and the group is set to evacuate from the ruin to the allied control point. After flashing the all-green signal to the reinforcement group, the group set out with the Priest leading the escorting Imperial Guards.
"Emperor bless these valiant souls, and allow them safe passage..." The Priest murmurs a prayer while holding his Eviscerator in wariness of the surrounding environment, now nothing more than a field of corpses, collapsed buildings, and craters.
The smoke coming out of charred corpses and exploded vehicles creates a low-hanging fog due to the enclosed nature of Installation 08's underbelly, which, while not really limiting their vision, is very obnoxious and distracting to inhale.
The survivors follow the navigation instructions provided by their helpers, following simple terms like 'Go left at the next intersection' or 'Stop and wait'. Along the way, the Priest and his group of ragtag veterans walk under a half-collapsed building, seemingly moments away from keeling over due to lack of maintenance. Right when they're beneath it, though, a headless corpse of a traitor falls out of the building and right in the middle of their path with a red splatter that dirties their booths.
"Holy...!" One of the Guardsmen exclaims while aligning the ironsight of his Lasrifle at the bleeding carcass and up at the windows and openings of the dilapidated building.
"It seems to me that our support is doing the Emperor's work..." One of the veterans commented while giving the people at their destination a thankful salute. "Could have ended badly since that bastard is strapped with explosives. My suggestion is to take a detour, in case the whole thing is rigged."
"A sound suggestion, Guardsman." The Priest nods before adding. "Perhaps it's time we hit off-road. We should be covered if we maintain line of sight with our friends from above."
"Yes, Sir."
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"Again," Sergeant Johnson pats my shoulder gently. "That's some fancy ass shooting, didn't even trigger the bomb vest."
"It's hard to miss with this thing, well calibrated." I reply with a smile while looking over the scope of my Long-las.
I then ask Weiss. "Rookie, still no luck with the Vox?"
Although I am not looking at her directly, I can feel Weiss shaking her head. "No cigar on this front. Seems to me the Lucifer Blacks still need sometimes to hopefully clear the jamming."
"Then we're on our own until those chaps on the ground can get here." Johnson adds before patting one of my platoon mates to take the Sergeant's place as my spotter since Weiss is monitoring the Vox network.
Johnson then moves slowly backward, his feet carrying him to the rest of his Squad that is covering our rear. "Anything, lads?"
"Negative, Sarge. Coast is clear, for now."
Nodding after receiving the report, Johnson adds. "Make sure it stays that way. Once our friendlies come in, some of you will have to escort them back to where we come from and call in for a MEDEVAC."
"Yes, Sarge. You can count on us."
Giving the speaker a thumbs up, Johnson then moves to the firing points that Scorpin's Squad has occupied. Again, the Sergeant conducts a check on them.
"You all good here? You didn't waste all your nades on that one APC, right?"
Scorpin smirks as she gives her Grenade Launcher a loving caress, much to her girlfriends' mock exasperation. "You know I love my baby boom-boom, but even I'm not that trigger-happy to dump the entire drum onto a Taurox. A Chimera or something larger, maybe, but not a Taurox."
"As for us seeing anything else..." Scorpin turns to the rest of her Special Weapon Squad. "Any luck spotting some unfortunate sods for Ein to perform a rain check on, lads?"
"Definitely not seeing much else in our sector..." A male member, Donovan, replies. "The other information groups are only seeing some actions now. The enemies are probably attracted by them all at this point."
Johnson nods, humming. "Still, keep your eyes peeled. No target-rich environment means it is possible to have the group we helped earlier make a clean extraction. However, things can change fast as this is the heretics we're talking about."
Scorpin nods as well, losing her smirk. "Yeah... I ain't fancy those teleportation bullshit that nearly got us wiped."
Johnson scoffs at the memory of running dizzily around a Corrupted Ogryn, which resurfaces due to Scorpin's words. "Yeah, I don't want to take on that particular challenge anytime soon. One time running ragged like that was more than enough. Anyway, gotta get back to where Ein's at. Holler us if you got something good."
"Will do, Sarge." Scorpin makes a two-finger salute before rejoining her girlfriends as they, together, maintain an overwatch on the other angles of the tall, reinforced structure they're on.
Although I already know the answer, I still ask the Sergeant upon his return to his post as my temporary spotter.
"Any luck?"
"If you mean no critical contact spotted is us being lucky, then yes, we got some luck." Johnson quips. "What about you, pull a trigger on anything else yet?"
I reply calmly, maintaining a careful watch over the priest who is leading the Cadian survivors to us.
"Not really. While I did see some hostile movements way out beyond our group of survivors, I chose not to initiate an engagement for fear of attracting them here, as I deem the enemies were relocating to a different AO."
"Good call." Johnson agrees with my decision. "No need to draw aggro to ourselves and risk hurting the survivors even more. We can think about either reaching for other stranded units or expanding the secured sector when we're done receiving this group."
"That's what I thought..." I nod at his words.
The conversation then stalled as the group we helped earlier started to approach the base of our structure. Below, members of Johnson's unit are already waiting to receive them all. Before that can happen, however, our attention is grabbed by a sudden appearance of a signal flare that is shot into the air, only to hit the metalling of Installation 08.
"That direction..." Johnson mutters.
"That's where Third Company's Second Platoon is supposed to be, no?" I add. "Purple flare... They're retreating due to mas-cas."
"Yeah, that ain't good if that's the case..." Johnson says bitterly with a sigh. "It means we may be pressured right after this since Snippar's Platoon is supposed to hold down the fort there. Here's hoping he managed to complete what he set out for before shit hit the fan for him and his crew."
"Fingers-crossed, right?" I nod before adding. "John, you'd better square out the newcomers, and soon."
"Right, I will see if I can incorporate some of the surviving guns from them, bolstering our number for what's to come. I think I saw a friendly face just now..."
"On my part, I am curious to see if the Priest down there is willing to join us. We can always use a melee fighter." I say with a smile as Johnson starts backing away after handing the spotter post back to his subordinate.
The Sergeant chuckles freely before disappearing down a flight of stairs. "A Priest would certainly be needed after what we all went through on that ops earlier."