Author Notes:
Sorry that this GSS chapter took so late to come online. If you've followed my P-atreon PSA, you would know that I ma experiencing a bad case of weather allergy where my body, more specifically my hands, are now boiled lobsters. This, alongside my dying keyboard, mean my writing pace is severely affected to the point where I was and still is contemplating whether it's easier to just bang my head against the wall or to sit down and write anything at a reasonable pace...
That rant aside, at least the chapter is up, so it's a blessing. I will take a rest now before going on to work on the next RM chapter. If you want to support me then...
Income goal 720/800 USD (The increase to 800 is for me to procure medicine for allergy and to replace my broken down PC equipment)
https://www.patre-on.com/Heartbreak117
https://ko-fi.com/heartbreak117/goal?g=0
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Mortar shells rain from above, splashing against the ground in front of the tower's lobby. Yet, despite the multitude of high-explosive munition being wasted, the two Salamanders fighting at the frontline escape the blast radius unimpeded. It's safe to assume that, unless hit directly, the power armor of the Astartes can shrug off most if not all of the damaging explosion generated by conventional mortar rounds.
In a desperate bid to stall the Salamanders from getting inside the tower, the driver of the commandeered Centaur armored utility vehicle hit the gas and blazed a direct course at one of the Astartes. The driver of the Centaur cranks the throttle of its V6 engine to the max as its treads roll and spark against the floor. On the back of the open-topped troop compartment, the last Heavy Bolter of 3rd Platoon spins around, switching from suppressing the other Salamanders afar to the ones directly in front of their vehicle. Being the target of a ramming attack, the two Astartes know better than to stay in one place. So, they split up, with the one holding the bolt pistol charging directly at the tower's lobby area while the remaining bolt rifle-equipped Astartes attract the attention of the Centaur.
As expected, even we hardened Cadians find our hearts trembling when seeing an Astartes outrunning whatever we throw at him. Sprinting toward us with powerful steps, sometimes even side-stepping in a blur to dodge a burst of plasma, the Salamander with a bolt pistol held aloft exudes an unimaginable pressure up close. The flowing coat of firedrake hides only enhances his heroic and borderline transcendence images amidst a hail of supercharged laser beams and plasma fire. Ironically, it's much harder to hit a Salamander at closer range as his enhanced mobility easily overwhelms our cognitive abilities. That and being this close, the Salamander has a much easier time finding the blindspot in our field of fire. He is even capable of retaliating but chooses not to for whatever reason. He is probably conserving bolt rounds, waiting for the chance to engage us up close and personal.
Facing this dashing Salamander, there's not even an opportunity for Johnson to give an order. If not for the subtle buff provided by my Battle Meditation, what's left of 3rd Platoon would have probably descended into a mess of ineffective suppressive fire. Instead, the eight members of 3rd Platoon, four in the lobby with the remainder staying a floor above them, steel themselves and stick to a methodical engagement tactic. Divided into two makeshift teams centering around our Plasma Guns, one led by Johnson while the other is commanded by Scorpin, the teams take turns to fire at the Astartes. Using this method means we can't immediately overwhelm the Salamander nearest to us, but it does mean that he will have to dance around the dangerous plasma blasts, thus slowing down his charge greatly. For him, this would probably be the longest 300-meter run he has ever made. The more time we buy with this method, the more time we have available for the Centaur carrying our mortar teams to return and bring more guns to bear.
Speaking of a Centaur, I come to see the other Salamander running around our bolter-equipped Centaur while dodging bursts of bolt rounds. He is very alert, constantly shifting the bolt rifle in his hand to avoid another case of me sniping it off. Unlike his battle brother though, this Salamander does return the favor at the Centaur, pulling the trigger repeatedly and unleashing bolt rounds at the driver's vision slit and exposed tracks of the vehicle. Fortunately, the one driving the Centaur is an expert getaway driver in our Platoon, he ducks low enough to avoid being taken out by the non-lethal projectiles as they spark and crack the driver's port. It's also quite fortunate that the Centaur he's driving has a dozer blade at the front, with it blocking most of the shot meant for the tracks of the Centaur. Those that do hit do so at a steep angle, causing little meaningful damage to the robust rhomboid tracks. If anything, the Imperium constructs their vehicles to last.
Seeing that it will be a waste of precious bolt rounds trying to disable the maneuverability of the Centaur, the flanking Astartes switches his target to the crew manning the Heavy Bolter on the back of the vehicle. Unlike before, his bolt rounds strike true and immediately disable the Heavy Bolter mounted on a tripod, leaving the two gun crew ducking before bringing up their lasrifles. I watch as they unleash a withering hail of supercharged beams at the Astartes, only for them to dissipate harmlessly against the splendid protection of the Salamander's power armor. Emboldened by the Centaur's lack of heavy firepower, the Astartes proceed to run directly at the Cadian vehicle with bolter roaring. I watch calmly as the bolt rounds hit and knock the two Heavy Bolter crew off the back of the Centaur, leaving only the driver remaining to step on the gas even more.
What comes next proves the credibility of us saying that an Astartes can bodycheck a Chimera unscathed, with the IFV being sent packing in a body bag instead of the Space Marine. The Salamander straight-up shoulder rams the Centaur, stopping it dead on its track as his legs dig into the ground. The driver evacuates his spot before the Salamander can aim his bolt rifle once more at the driver's port, leaving the Centaur alone, still trying to push against the Astartes while its tracks spark against the ground. Although this Salamander is now stationary, the bulk of the Centaur blocks me from getting a good shot off. Unbelievably, the Salamander then hooks an arm beneath the Centaur's dozer blade and lifts the front of the vehicle, completely blocking my vision of him as he uses the entire thing as a gigantic ballistic shield.
"Now that ain't fair..." I giggle wryly, seeing how the Astartes use the Centaur as a mobile shield, even if it's still trying to run him over. "But then again, neither are we."
I then aim my sight over to the troop compartment of the Centaur. Now that it's being lifted up by the Salamander, I can see a melta bomb attached to the floor plating of the vehicle. It's placed right next to where the tripod of the Heavy Bolter used to be before it got flipped over by the Astartes lifting the Centaur as a shield. I don't even need to aim as the former driver of the vehicle jumps into a shell crater before pulling out a handheld detonator and giving it two solid clicks. Then, well, the whole Centaur goes kaboom, and the Astartes are thrown backward by the blast, crashing into one of the barricades we constructed from burned-down vehicles.
As the announcement for his elimination rings out across the simulated arena, I can't help but nod to myself. Surprisingly, it wasn't my idea to make a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device. Oh no, that honor belongs to Johnson himself when he commandeered the Centaurs for our usage. Knowing that the Centaurs can take quite a beating from bolt rifles, he fashioned one of them with a large melta charge as a desperate means of offense. The explosion that just eliminated another Salamander was that idea coming to fruition.
However, we can't celebrate yet as in the few moments it took to set off the VBIED, the other Salamander is already storming the lobby. To avenge his battle brother, the Astartes rams through a wall, his bolter raises to shoot at my Platoon mates who are still trying to get a bead on his towering visage. Between relocating to aid in fending off this Salamander or staying at my post to stall the remaining two Astartes, I stick to the latter. It's a risky decision, sure, but Johnson has made it clear that I am to look outward of the tower all the time unless all of the Astartes are confirmed to be inside the tower. If the situation has deteriorated so much that an overwatch is not needed anymore, then I am allowed full autonomy. There's no need for my intervention, at least not yet. With only one Salamander breaching the lobby, I trust that Johnson can lead the rest of our Platoon to stop him where he's at, albeit at great sacrifice.
Although I can't quite see what's happening a few floors down, I can sense what's going on thanks to my Abyss Totem Stigmata. The Salamander in the lobby uses his pistol to immediately shoot at Scorpin's Fireteam, unceremoniously taking out three of her subordinates who are spread around the lobby with precise hits. Thankfully, Johnson's team suppresses the Salamander from above with a hail of laser beams and plasma, forcing him behind a large pillar and reducing the pressure on Scorpin. This allows her to poke out with her plasma gun and bombard the Astartes' cover, rendering the available protection for transhuman warriors suboptimal. But will this stop a Salamander?
The answer is a resounding no.
Utilizing the brief moment when Scorpin has to duck down and cool off her Plasma Gun, thus lessening the suppressive fire directed at him, the Salamander dashes out with his bolt pistol aimed upward. Having triangulated the position of Johnson's teammate who holds another Plasma Gun, the Salamander swiftly delivers a gut punch in the form of a bolt round at the man, knocking the man clean off his feet and his Plasma Gun thrown into the air, landing unfortunately onto the lobby's floor. Ignoring the retaliating laser beams from Johnson, the Astartes instead charge forward to finish off Scorpin, the only credible threat currently to the Salamander. Yet, when he looms over the barricade that Scorpin's hiding behind, the Astartes lays his eyes on a smirking Weapon Specialist.
Scorpin, that cheeky woman, is lying on her back, her legs pulled into a fetal position to minimize her body profile while her Plasma Gun is pointing directly at where the visible portion of the Salamander is. The steam being vented from Scorpin's Plasma Gun means that it's ill-advised for her to pull the trigger, or a rather catastrophic result will soon follow. Yet, any cost is acceptable if it means one less Astartes in the game. The veteran Salamander of Kharak Squad also understood this, and the logical decision will be to retreat immediately. However, the momentum generated by his wish to eliminate Scorpin swiftly rears its ugly head. Transhuman as they may be, the Astartes can't completely negate the law of physics. The Salamander can't jump back when his front foot is not yet touching the ground. So, the Astartes have no other recourse than to commit, pulling the trigger of his bolt pistol at the same time when Scorpin depresses hers. And then a big, blue explosions occur in the lobby, engulfing both Scorpin and the Salamander Astartes. Quite understandably, Scorpin is promptly eliminated from the arena, but the Salamander isn't, yet.
Being blown back onto a pillar, the Astartes has lost his weapon while most of his armor is on lockdown, simulating the fact that he is heavily injured from the out-of-controlled detonation of Scorpin's Plasma Gun. Being immobilized, but not yet eliminated, the Salamander can only watch helplessly as the Cadians on the upper floor train their weapons on him. Outside the lobby, the Centaur carrying the mortar teams comes to a skidding halt, reconvening with the surviving driver of the other Centaur before disembarking to reinforce Johnson's unit. The driver that detonated the melta bomb then picked up the dropped Plasma Gun on the ground, aiming it at the immobilized Astartes.
Seeing this and probably the apologetic expression on the Cadian driver's face, the 'injured' Salamander laughed.
"It was a good fight, Cadians! Stand proud!"
"It's been a great honor, milord." The driver nods respectfully before pulling the trigger, bathing the Astartes in a blueish plasma blast.
Before the announcement of the Salamander's elimination can be completed, however, I come to see a sight through my scope that makes me smile wryly. Before I can even warn my unit or pull the trigger of my Long-las, bolter rounds are fired at members of 3rd Platoon that are still in the lobby area. By the time my laser hits and disables one of the bolt rifles belonging to the remaining two Astartes, five members of my unit in the lobby are cut down by the hail of bolt rounds, having made the mistake of not getting into cover swiftly enough after eliminating the Salamander in the lobby. This also means that other than me, there are only Johnson, Weiss, and one of Scorpin's girlfriends. Our presence on the ground floor is promptly made non-existent.
As for the sight that caused me to smile wryly in disbelief, it was none other than the last two Salamanders coming straight at us with makeshift, full-body shields seemingly crafted by tearing off armor platings from an unknown military vehicle. I could only snipe out one of their bolt rifles when they brought it out to mow down a major part of my Platoon. As for the rest of their bodies, they are safely tucked behind the thick, asymmetrical shields. What's this? Are they all masquerading as Orks or is this a new trend, using vehicle and vehicle parts as additional armor?
As I report my findings to Johnson, I can't help but wonder.
It's troublesome enough to get through the protections offered by the power armor. How should I deal with this now?