In the Command Post, Sicarius made his decision with resolute efficiency. His aggressive tactics were backed by the Ultramarines, and the fire of vengeance burned fiercely in every Space Marine's heart. Now, it was time to inform their allies of the plan.
He quickly summoned the executive members of the Military Committee—the Helldivers—from across the entire War Zone to a meeting.
These representatives, hailing from various units, arrived sequentially at a side hall of the Command Post, carrying a mix of curiosity and their usual lack of discipline. They chatted in small groups until Sicarius entered the room with a steady stride.
Sicarius dispensed with pleasantries. He immediately projected the holographic tactical map onto the center of the conference table, presenting the Second Company's assault plan and the Tyranid Hive's biological nest they were targeting in a clear, concise manner to these mortals.
He finally announced: "The Second Company will execute a high-risk, deep-strike operation into the heart of the Tyranid territory.
I require your auxiliary support."
The moment his words landed, a short silence was immediately followed by a burst of incredible clamor.
"Christmas has come early! Hallelujah!"
"Holy cow! We actually stumbled onto an event this huge!"
"ULTRAMAR FUCK YEAH!"
"Woohoo! Yeah! I knew following Lord Sicarius would lead to the good stuff!"
"Charge, charge, charge! It's time to let these bugs know who the real masters are!"
The Helldivers exploded with enthusiasm. For them, this was clearly an unprecedented narrative climax, an epic raid that would give them bragging rights on the forums for a whole year.
Sicarius was well accustomed to this reaction. He simply raised a hand, signaling them to quiet down. He cleared his throat and continued, "To ensure the success of this operation, I require at least ten divisions to operate in conjunction with the Second Company, tying down the Xenos and covering our withdrawal."
At this statement, the Helldivers ' eyes lit up. Ten divisions! That was over a hundred thousand troops!
The Helldivers present exchanged glances. They represented at least twenty different divisions. Instantly, the air was thick with competitive tension.
The Helldivers rapidly formed small groups based on their corps, vying to be the first to showcase their advantages to Sicarius.
One representative, from a certain corps, practically elbowed his way forward: "Second Captain! Second Captain! We fought side-by-side with you to beat up the blue guys not long ago! Do you remember me? I was one of the first to run up and ask for your autograph! I still have the one you gave me, and it's framed!"
Another group was not to be outdone: "Second Captain, choose us! Our corps, The Crach Batch from the beta Patch, has a long history, established its number on Super Earth(Perditia) and has continued ever since. Our members are all first-rate veterans; we've fought Chaos, sneaky T'au, Orks, and Traitor Space Marines—our combat experience is rich, and our battlefield adaptability is excellent, enough to handle any contingency!"
"Second Captain, we—"
Before Sicarius could make a decision, the small groups of Helldivers quickly evolved from presenting their own merits to exposing the flaws of their rivals.
"Shut the hell up! You're bragging about fighting the T'au? How shameless are you? You must be a Savlar Chem-Dog! Have some shame!"
"You guys have zero battlefield adaptability! Everyone knows you only won your battles on Perditia by nuking everything! Zero tactical skill!"
"Bullshit! There's no overkill! Especially in Warhammer! That was tactical obliteration! How long have you been fighting? What the hell do you know about war?"
The verbal confrontation rapidly escalated, full of gunpowder. In no time, it quickly developed into a full-contact physical brawl.
"Oh yeah? You got a problem? Got the guts to fight me?"
"Bring it on! You think I'm scared of you?!"
In an instant, the once-orderly conference hall transformed into a battleground. The Helldivers traded punches and kicks; the scene was utterly chaotic.
Watching the Helldivers fighting amongst themselves right before him, Sicarius paused for a thought and decided not to intervene. He simply folded his arms, watching the mortals with an expressionless face.
He decided to wait for these small groups, boiling with fighting spirit, to determine a victor. After all, those who could emerge victorious from this internal competition would surely be the 'elites.'
In the 'battlefield' of the Command Post side hall, roughly five corps of Helldivers were fighting tooth and nail.
However, in the midst of the chaos, the executive members of the Third Corps quietly retreated, attempting to slip away from the brawl. They were clearly trying to be clever, hoping to wait for the others to fight themselves into mutual exhaustion so they could conserve their strength and reap the rewards.
But the other Helldivers were not fools. Soon, the representatives of the First, Second, Fourth, and Fifth Corps noticed the Third Corps' unusual movement. After a brief pause, several glances met in the air, and without a word, a common thought flashed through their minds.
"Damn it, these bastards are trying a sneaky move!"
"We can't let them succeed!"
Almost simultaneously, the representatives of the four corps tacitly stopped fighting each other, turned as one, and targeted the Third Corps, which was attempting a 'strategic retreat.'
"Beat these dogs to death!"
"Teach them a lesson about trying to gain a small advantage and suffering a greater loss!"
The gang-up began. The Third Corps members were engulfed by attacks from all sides before they could fully disengage. All manner of moves were mercilessly poured upon them. In just a moment, the Third Corps executive members fell one by one, signaling the first elimination.
As the saying goes, "He who schemes too much is the first to die!"
After this pivotal 'battle,' all the Helldivers present realized a truth: the average combat strength difference between individual groups was small. If they united, they could quickly eliminate others first. Moreover, the ten-division quota Sicarius had offered was enough for two corps to share.
Thus, the previously indiscriminate trash talk quickly turned into sweet talk aimed at fostering camaraderie and forging alliances.
"Brother, our Second Corps and your Fifth Corps have always been great friends! Last time we fought the Orks, you even took an axe blow for me!"
"Get outta here! Don't listen to his nonsense! Brothers of the Fifth Corps, our First Corps is the most reliable ally!
Our positions are so close; it's a natural alliance!"
Unfortunately, after a round of intense camaraderie and bargaining, the ideal situation of a three-on-one alliance did not form. Instead, the final result was two equal alliances: the First and Fourth Corps formed an alliance, and the Second and Fifth Corps banded together for warmth. Now, the battle became balanced again, with each side having the strength of two corps, and the outcome was once again uncertain.
The final showdown erupted between the two alliances.
The alliance of the Fourth and First Corps displayed superior tactical proficiency and coordination. They quickly spotted a few flaws in the cooperation between the Second and Fifth Corps, particularly a difficult-to-mend gap in the cohesion of their joint formation.
"Sever the joint! Concentrate fire and take out the Second Corps first!" the First Corps executive member decisively ordered.
Their tactical execution was exceptionally firm. The seven divisions' worth of representatives acted like a sharp blade, launching a full-scale breakthrough that quickly cut the connection between the Second and Fifth Corps. Then, with lightning speed, they poured all their fire onto the Second Corps. At the same time, the remaining three divisions' worth of representatives desperately tied down the Fifth Corps, holding them in place, even if it meant paying a heavy price.
Under the fierce assault of the seven divisions, the Second Corps was quickly overwhelmed, and they were knocked down one after another. Once the entire Second Corps was 'laying on the boards,' the seven divisions immediately turned around, pouncing like tigers on the restrained Fifth Corps.
Having lost their allies and been restrained for so long, the Fifth Corps stood no chance against the concentrated force of superior numbers and was quickly beaten.
Although the three divisions that restrained the Fifth Corps were also 'wiped out' due to being outnumbered, the alliance of the Fourth and First Corps ultimately won this internal 'elimination tournament' with their seven-on-five advantage.
After this 'fight,' the once noisy and chaotic Command Post side hall finally returned to calm. Aside from Sicarius, only seven disheveled, panting Helldivers remained standing. They were the surviving executive members of the First and Fourth Corps alliance.
Sicarius looked at these seven 'survivors' who had fought their way through the hyper-competitive brawl, a rare smile appearing on his face. He slowly began to clap, the sound echoing clearly in the empty room.
"Good! An excellent engagement!" Sicarius's voice was loud and powerful. "You are the chosen ones. Go back and inform your warriors. Prepare to welcome an unprecedented and great victory!"
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TL: Author posted only one chap? I guess December really is coming.
I've been thinking of writing Christmas themed omakes, but you guys don't like em