A Space Marine Sergeant of the Ultramarines handed out several data-slates, including one each to Reinhard and Valker, among the newly arrived group.
"These are the meeting minutes where we previously discussed this issue. You may want to take a look first."
Reinhard took the data-slate, and the screen immediately displayed a series of combat plans marked "Vetoed."
As they flipped through the records, they found that the command staff had indeed racked their brains trying to solve the problem of the Tyranid spore mist.
Plan One: Significantly increase the quantity of gas deployed, using aerial dissemination to neutralize the suspended particles of the spore mist.
Reason for Veto: Excessive cost and enormous logistical pressure.
More importantly, the denser gas would also greatly interfere with the senses of the Helldivers and the Ultramarines, while also corroding precious equipment.
Plan Two: Deploy a large number of Auspexes on the front line, using echolocation to mark the precise movements of the swarm.
Reason for Veto: The spores themselves absorb and interfere with sound waves, leading to enormous errors in detection results and cluttered, disorganized data feedback.
Moreover, such precision instruments suffered an alarmingly high loss rate under Tyranid artillery and charges, making the plan too cumbersome and impractical.
Plan Three: Conduct regular saturation shelling, using fire and explosions to clear open ground in front of the position, forcibly creating a visible area.
Reason for Veto: The ammunition consumption was incalculable, and the effect was demonstrably poor.
It was less advantageous than saving the shells and requesting fire support to directly strike the swarm once the Tyranids arrived, thus the disadvantages outweighed the benefits.
Every plan had been rigorously simulated, and every one was abandoned due to an insurmountable flaw.
The command center once again fell into silence. The breathing apparatus of the Power Armour hissed subtly, while the ordinary humans furrowed their brows. The atmosphere was heavy.
"Speaking of which," a voice suddenly cut through the silence, sounding a little abrupt. It was Pyro. "Why don't we try using lights?"
"Lights?"
The moment he said that, everyone present, whether a Space Marine or a Helldiver, failed to immediately grasp Pyro's meaning. The word was too plain, too everyday, making it seem out of place in such a serious military meeting.
"You should know this, right?" Seeing the confused faces, Pyro gestured as he explained.
"It's common sense! When visibility drops in the rain or fog, you use a flashlight! Even if it only illuminates a few meters ahead, it's better than being completely blind."
He grew more excited as he spoke, his idea becoming clearer: "It just so happens that we've moved our position to high ground, giving us a commanding view. Let's set up a few dozen high-power searchlights up high.
When the Tyranids arrive, turn all the lights on, shining them down in unison—problem solved, isn't it? This wouldn't even affect our own soldiers, because the light source would be coming from behind them, so it wouldn't be blinding at all.
It also solves the problem of night combat while we're at it. Turn on the lights at night, and it's like daytime!
"We just need to put a few dozen searchlights on the high ground, and that's it. We don't need any complicated cover; searchlights aren't worth much anyway.
If the Tyranids want to divert their precious long-range firepower from striking us to striking those broken lights, wouldn't that be even better? We'd make a huge profit!"
After he finished speaking, the command center was silent.
The professionally trained and militarily educated warriors instinctively wanted to refute this suggestion, which sounded... overly simple, even a bit childish. But as the words reached their lips, they couldn't think of any strong point of rebuttal.
In fact, after thinking it over carefully, the suggestion seemed... very much worth a try.
This is why they say that those with unconventional minds have the broadest ideas.
If it were up to these professional soldiers, who had been taught countless military regulations, they could rack their brains all they wanted and still might not come up with such an outlandish battle plan.
"Not too shabby!" The player AssimilationComplete, who was leading another squad, gave Pyro a playful slap on the backside and laughed. "What's that saying? Even a broken clock is right twice a day!"
"Get outta here," Pyro chuckled, shoving him away. "Can't you say something nice for once? Ever heard of giving credit where it's due?"
The Ultramarine Sergeant ignored the players' banter, his gaze sweeping over the other Astartes present: "What do you all think?"
A Space Marine spoke first: "It's crude and simple, but I think the suggestion is worth a try. The execution cost is virtually nil, yet it could yield surprisingly effective results."
"That's what I think too," the Sergeant nodded. "Sometimes, we truly shouldn't overcomplicate things."
Night fell, and the sky over Plantidium displayed a bizarre, unsettling color. The purple spore clouds released by the Tyranids and the green gas projected by the Helldiver intersected and churned high up, twisting the moonlight and starlight into a sickly hue.
********
Outside the new hill position, two Helldivers who were serving as outposts lay in a hastily dug foxhole, gazing up at the familiar sky.
One of them sighed and said gloomily, "Man, I wish I'd looked at the sky more before we ruined Plantidium's ecosystem. Now, all I see when I look up is either green or purple; it's either our gas or the Tyranid spores. The sight of blue skies, white clouds, and starry nights when we first arrived is gone forever."
"When this war is over, come back in ten or so Earth years, and you should be able to see it again," the other Helldiver yawned, responding lazily. "Trust the Ultramarines' reconstruction capabilities; they're masters at infrastructure and post-war recovery."
"That's only if we can win..."
As the two were casually chatting to relieve the boredom of their sentry duty, a dull explosion suddenly sounded in the distance.
"Boom—!"
The sound wasn't particularly loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet night.
The two who were slouched on the ground a second ago simultaneously sprang into a new posture like coiled springs, crouching behind their cover, their lasguns instantly raised and set to alert.
"Did you hear that noise just now?" the first person asked in a lowered voice, his eyes sharply scanning the desolate land illuminated by the eerie sky-glow ahead.
"Yeah, it sounds like our old position from before we evacuated this morning," the other listened for a moment before judging. "Did someone bury a bomb before leaving? Damn it, playing with explosives."
Such things were not uncommon on the battlefield. Some players liked to leave a "clever idea" upon retreating to make things difficult for any pursuers.
"I'll go check it out. After all, we're the sentries," the first Helldiver to speak decisively stood up and checked his weapon. "You stay here and maintain vigilance. If I'm not back in ten minutes, the Tyranids have arrived."
"Got it. Be careful."
He hunched over and quickly disappeared into the shadows of the hill, making his way towards the old position.
Time ticked by. The remaining sentry in the foxhole kept his eyes glued to the friendly unit identifier on his communicator, watching the green dot representing his teammate move further and further away.
One minute, two minutes, five minutes...
Suddenly, the green dot representing his teammate vanished without warning.
Almost at the same instant, back at the hill position behind him, a faint light flashed, and the player who had just gone out to scout popped back into existence next to his squad leader.
He didn't even have to say a word. The squad leader, who had been leaning against an ammo crate resting with his eyes closed, opened them the moment the revival light flared. He glanced at his recently "refreshed" subordinate, showing no surprise, and simply stood up calmly, dusting himself off.
"Get ready to defend," he ordered the rest of his squad. "I'm going to notify the Captain.
The Tyranids are here."