Chapter 124: Danger is Everywhere
"Scrap! It never ends!" The veteran kicked the Tyranid corpse on the ground and spat, then cursed.
It had been a week since the first Tyranid creature had set foot on Korsa. In this week, every few hours, a wave of bugs would charge the positions without fear of death. This had caused the soldiers on the ground to be in a state of high tension, while also being unable to rest. This had left them all extremely exhausted.
"Stop your damn complaining! Save your strength for the bugs. You're so big for nothing. You can't even move a Termagant. Look at the hound. It just picks it up and goes."
"It runs on electricity, I eat food. How can it be the same? Old Sal, didn't you say you've fought the bugs several times? Then tell me, a wave here, a wave there, and never a lot each time. What's the bug leader trying to do?"
The rookie, a former hive ganger and now an Astra Militarum grunt, asked as he picked up an iron hook and hooked it onto the carapace of a dead Termagant. Then he gripped the handle with both hands, leaned back, and used his body weight to drag the Termagant, step by step, towards the corpse pit. Beside him were many other soldiers doing the same thing.
"Why? To wear us out! Heave-ho!"
The man called Old Sal also dragged a Tyranid. Although he was called Old Sal, he didn't look very old, maybe in his twenties. Considering the terrible conditions on the battlefield, and the fact that he hadn't cleaned himself in all this time, Sal's age was probably even younger.
Sal's answer almost made the straining big rookie lose his breath. He quickly gasped for air and asked in disbelief, "What? To wear us out?"
"I knew you wouldn't believe me. I got this from a cog-head."
"You got it? From you?"
"Get lost. Listen if you want, don't if you don't," Sal cursed, annoyed.
"Listen, listen. Just say it. If you don't, you're just bluffing," the rookie provoked.
"Hmph. The cog-heads have dissected those Termagants. They only have mouths, not a single intestine in their bellies. They're born to either starve to death or be killed by us. If they're not for wearing us out, what are they for?"
"Scrap!"
While the front-line soldiers were actually cleaning the battlefield, the Colonel and Commissar of the Astra Militarum regiment in charge of this defensive line were frowning at the battle reports from the past few days.
"Command has warned us," the Colonel said, rubbing his brow, "that once the soldiers get used to this level of combat intensity, if the bugs suddenly increase their forces on a certain section of the line, the soldiers' morale will easily collapse."
The Commissar's index finger tapped unconsciously on the table. After a moment of thought, he said, "From the instructions from Command, a similar situation is not just here. That's why they've warned us."
"A few days ago, I heard that the bugs and the Greenskins were fighting fiercely. I was happy for a while. But who would have thought that a low-pressure situation would have such a hidden danger."
"You're not the only one," the Commissar said with a bitter smile. "If it weren't for this dispatch from headquarters, I'd still be happy now."
"I think we should let some of the men rotate out. On the one hand, with fewer men on duty, the soldiers' vigilance will naturally increase. On the other hand, it can alleviate the soldiers' fatigue. It's not a solution to always be on edge."
"But then, the fire density will not be able to completely block the Tyranids' attack, and the soldiers' casualties—"
"Casualties? We are at the outermost perimeter of the defensive line. Our role is that if a massive Tyranid attack occurs, we use our lives to buy time for the defensive lines behind us. When we received the order, weren't we already prepared for the entire army to be wiped out?" The Colonel's face showed no trace of fear, only a calm acceptance, an endless loyalty, and a resolute hatred for the Tyranids.
The Commissar looked at his old partner and remembered the scene when he had just graduated from the Schola Progenium and was assigned to the regiment. He remembered their first meeting. The first words this bastard had said were, "Are you ready to die?"
He had been young and full of hot blood at the time. "Of course!" he had replied with zeal. But that night, as he had wondered in his tent if he had offended someone to be assigned to an Astra Militarum regiment that was on a suicide mission, and had spent half the night building up his psychological fortitude before the Emperor, ready to die for him, and the next day, with rabbit-red eyes, had found the other and asked what the specific mission was, he had discovered that it was just that this guy was not afraid of death and wanted a partner who was also not afraid of death. That was why he had asked.
Thinking of this, the Commissar smiled. "You finally got your wish, didn't you?"
"Hahaha, you know me! What do you think of my plan?"
"Hmm, it's feasible. Let's do as you say. But we can send some of the mechanical hounds assigned to the regiment over. Their combat effectiveness is not low. If the bugs charge, they can help."
"Good."
The Astra Militarum regiments on the long defensive line, after receiving the reminder from the high command, were all making corresponding changes to deal with the Tyranids' fatigue tactics and to guard against their possible feint tactics. The regiments in more remote defensive positions had a more conservative approach, only letting a small number of soldiers go to the rear to rest. These commanders understood that if a sudden situation occurred, they would not be able to get timely support without friendly forces nearby. The Astra Militarum regiments whose defensive zones were close to friendly forces were bolder. They directly used a joint defense and cooperation method. While carrying out their own missions, they also kept a close eye on the adjacent defensive zones. This allowed them to withdraw more soldiers from the front line and let them get better rest.
At the same time, in the high command in the rear, the high-ranking commanders were also in a heated discussion. If this situation continued, should they rotate the soldiers in the rear fortresses with the front-line soldiers?
"I don't think we'll get any results if we continue to discuss this. We need to understand the situation of the Greenskins before we can make a decision."
Hearing this, the commanders, after a moment of thought, turned their gaze to the Inquisitor who had been sitting quietly to the side. If there was anyone who understood the situation of those Greenskins, besides the Magos Omega who had already left, it would be this Inquisitor. She had been a part of that Magos's plan from start to finish.
Seeing that everyone had quieted down and was looking at her, Inquisitor Fenni smiled helplessly. She stood up and said, "Everyone, don't be fooled just because those Greenskins have been staying quietly in the forest. Their strength is not weak. In fact, Magos Omega has not stopped strengthening those Greenskins before he left."
"Inquisitor Fenni, you should have a good idea of the Greenskins' strength, right?"
The Inquisitor shook her head. "Because of the chaotic nature of the Greenskins, even Magos Omega's assessment of their strength is just an estimate. I can't say I understand it even more."
"Then what was Magos Omega's estimate?"
"Magos Omega estimates that there are at least seven million Greenskins in the Greenskin forest. It could be more than ten million."
"Hiss! How did Magos Omega make them stay quietly in the forest?!"
Even Omega himself could not answer this question. Anyway, he had done it, and he had gotten along very well with the Greenskins. Although after learning the strength of the two Greenskin clans, he had secretly planted several nuclear bombs in the forest, but these nuclear bombs had all been dug up and taken away by him in the end. He didn't want any Loota Boy to pick them up after he had left.
"I also know this result sounds incredible. When Magos Omega told me, my first reaction was also disbelief. But from the performance of the Greenskins there, Magos Omega's estimate is correct. This is also why I am only telling you this now. After all, this result is too illogical."
Hearing the Inquisitor's words, the others looked at each other. A Greenskin of this number, if you gave them a starship, they could easily WAAAGH! through several star systems. Any normal person who knew a little about Greenskins would not believe that they could be "raised" in a forest. But the facts were before their eyes. That Magos Omega had done it.
"So, for a while, the Tyranids won't be able to take down those Greenskins."
"We can't either! Now that I think about it, I went to that Greenskin market to watch the fun a month ago. It's a blessing from the Emperor that I came back alive."
"Heh heh, then you can brag to your grandchildren in the future that you were surrounded by ten million Greenskins and fought your way in and out seven times without losing a single hair."
"Ha, that's true."
Although the strength of the Greenskins was beyond everyone's expectations, and had almost broken their backs, the strength of the Greenskins was beneficial to the humans now. Unless Gorgon increased its investment, for a while, it would not have the energy to deal with them. And if Gorgon did increase its investment, that was even better. This was what the human-T'au joint forces wanted to see.
"I don't think we need to discuss this anymore. The front-line troops can't fight forever, and the troops in the fortress can't be idle forever."
"Hmm, good."
The high command was still formulating a rotation plan. Under the arrangement of the front-line commanders, the soldiers who had arrived at the rear to rest a step ahead could finally get a good night's sleep, without having to get up every few hours. But just as they had relaxed, danger had quietly crept up on them.
Night fell, and all was quiet. The person on duty was also leaning against the wall, nodding off. A supply crate that had been withdrawn with the soldiers eerily opened a crack. A slender tentacle poked out from the crate. After a survey to confirm that there were no other creatures around, a creature the size of a child's forearm, using its own body, pushed open the crate little by little and crawled out. It was a creature that looked like a cockroach with teeth and tentacles. It was not known what creature's genes the Tyranids had used to create it, but from its silent, rapid movement and its intentional hiding in dark corners and crevices that the light did not reach, this thing must have some connection to the cockroaches of ancient Terra.
From its quiet hiding in the corner, it was clear that this was a patient hunter. An hour passed, and it did not move. Two hours passed, and it still did not move. Until dawn was about to arrive, and the skyline began to glow. A soldier, half-asleep, lifted the flap of his tent, yawning with one hand and fumbling with his belt with the other, and walked towards a corner of the camp that the lights did not reach.
"Scrap it. I knew I shouldn't have drunk so much water. Luckily, my little brother is a strong one. Otherwise, I would have wet the bed—"
"Hmm?"
A long five minutes passed. The soldier, who had finally conquered his prostate, showed a look of relief on his face and couldn't help but make a sound of accompaniment: "Shhh—... shhh... shhh..."
What the—?