Author Notes:
First of all, salutation and my gratitude to Captain Li1 Mainy and Private WorkForFood! They have thus reassigned themselves from active service to performing clandestine operations in support of the Imperium and the Belkan Reich. Their contribution won't go unrewarded!
Now then, this chapter... I'll admit honestly, I have underestimated my caffeinated brain.
To parrot Ein's words, potentially from the future.
Sometimes, my genius is... It's almost frightening.
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"Pardon my language, sir." I say with all the respect I can muster for Colonel Mustahim. "But you want us to fucking do what!?" I even throw in a look of utter disbelief as if to ask whether or not my superior is right in the head.
Colonel Mustahim of the Cadian 8th, instead of replying or feeling slighted by my disrespectful action, scratches his bald head before sighing. Reaching into his waist pocket, the Colonel pulls out a coin before tossing it to my Company Captain. The Captain grabs the embellished coin, worthing 10 Thrones, with an insufferable smirk directed at Colonel Mustahim.
"Told ya even 3rd Platoon would react like that." The Captain says, gesturing his head toward my unit. "Any Cadian with a sane mind will think that going us against the Emperor's Angels will be nothing but the foolish and desperate of endeavor."
True to what the Captain said, it's not just me who is having an incredulous look after hearing the briefing Colonel Mustahim gave us. Sergeant Johnson, Scorpin, Weiss, everyone... They are looking at Mustahim as if he's grown a second head... Believe it or not, a person with two heads is quite normal around this part of the galaxy. Although if you do see one, you better straight up turn that subject into ash. But that's beside the point.
The thing is, 3rd Platoon woke up just to be called in for a sudden meeting. At first, we thought that it would simply be the Company Captain assigning us some new tasks. Yet, when we came into the meeting room, we came to see the familiar faces of the entire JTF leadership: Colonel Mustahim, Chapter Master Tu'shan, Mama, and surprisingly even Archmagos Dominus Cawl. All of them sported very interesting expressions, Dominus Cawl included, and it took 3rd Platoon but a second to know that we were about to be involved in something troublesome. Our suspicion was proven true when Colonel Mustahim told us that we would go on to participate in a series of friendly bouts with the Salamander Space Marines. Joy...
Back to the present, I can't help but massage my eyebrows, an action mirrored by Sergeant Johnson. Weiss, sitting next to me, is sporting a very wry smile but she strangely seems more at ease than the rest of us. For the most part, the meeting room is packed with other Platoons present as they all turn to look at us with sympathetic expressions. Even the Kasrkin and Lucifer Blacks start offering us nods of encouragement. They have participated in their fair share of combat against the Astartes, so they know how tough of a challenge this will be, especially when 3rd Platoon is just a normal Guard Platoon, not Storm Troopers.
Colonel Mustahim coughs lightly to steer the subject back on track.
"I understand that this is an... Unusual tasking, but we deem it a necessary step in preparation for the future." The Colonel says. "There's no telling what kind of enemy the 8th will face in its tenure with the JTF, so it's decided by us leaders to host regular spars between our branches of service. The first set of matches, both personal and team-based, will be conducted between the Cadian 8th and the Salamander Chapter. With your 3rd Platoon being chosen as the first of the 8th to go up against a squad of six Astartes, Sergeant Johnson."
The Colonel stops before continuing. "Of the 24 Companies in the 8th, 3rd Platoon under 1st Company has a stellar record. We have high hopes of you achieving good results."
The Colonel nods at our Platoon in encouragement. Others in the command seats mirror Colonel Mustahim's action, with Mama and Chapter Master Tu'shan offering warm smiles as well. Nonetheless, it doesn't change the fact that...
"With respect, Colonel," Johnson speaks up seriously. "Even if we just got Weiss as a Rookie, 3rd Platoon only has 24 boots on the ground. Counting the crews of our Chimeras, we have thirty, and that is if we're allowed to bring our Chimeras into the bouts. Quite frankly, this is not a fair fight."
Some may mistake Johnson's words as him chickening out, but the Sergeant is just calmly stating a fact. Even if we had access to a Leman Russ and advantageous terrain, it's doubtful we could defeat six Salamanders. As expected, none of the leaders present is displeased with Johnson. In fact, it would be weird if Johnson didn't speak up about the unfairness of the upcoming spars. A single Astartes is worth 100 Imperial Guards on a favorable day. On a particularly bad day, an Astartes can slaughter 300 Guards without bearing as much as a scratch.
Chapter Master Tu'shan nods at 3rd Platoon. "I understand your concern, but this unfairness is a calculated one. The objective of these bouts is to improve the efficiency of different JTF branches when facing overwhelming odds. Today, it will be 3rd Platoon against six of my battle brothers. Tomorrow, it will be my six brothers against three Cadian 8th Companies. The results are ultimately not as important as the processes that were taken in these match-ups."
Mama leans in.
"The friendly battles will be conducted in simulated environments aboard the Iron Revenant. Archmagos Dominus Cawl has been kind enough to provide the JTF with the Revenant's suites of simulator for the matches. Each suite is large enough to host training for even the revered Titans and is more than capable of simulating all manners of battlefield conditions."
Dominus Belisarius Cawl nods as he gazes mechanically at 3rd Platoon.
"Non-lethal weapons will be supplied upon the Iron Revenant for both parties. Their ergonomics mirror that of their lethal counterparts and the impacts they may have on the environment will be simulated accordingly in the matches."
A Lucifer Black representatives speak up in caution as well.
"Simulated as everything may be, accidents can still happen. A punch from an Astartes is sure to pulverize anything it touches. A slip from a simulated mountaintop can very well snap your bones. Getting electrocuted in a faux lake can still very well be an express ticket to see the Emperor. There are myriad ways things can go wrong, so set out into these matches as if you're fighting a real battle. That is my advice to you, 3rd Platoon."
It's not just us 3rd Platoon that take the advice to heart, but others in the 8th as well. This challenge, abrupt as it may be, does allow everyone to shine and improve. To test their Cadian mettle against mighty individuals like the Salamanders is sheer honor and fortune. Any good Guardsman and Guardswoman will jump at this opportunity in the name of the Emperor. A sound defeat at the hand of the Emperor's Angels can still be a mark of distinction, depending on how you see it. It is, however, a shameful display if they somehow perish in a simulated battle. That will bring nothing but dishonor to their entire extended unit.
Mama smiles encouragingly.
"That said, there are benefits if you manage to impress us in your showing. For example, a priority can be made in giving the participants that pleasantly surprise us better equipment and weapons. A promotion may not be that far-off as well if you demonstrate splendid quality in the name of the Emperor."
Then comes Dominus Cawl, speaking in his raspy synthetic voice once more.
"The Mechanicus will be the main sponsor for these incentives, provided that you earn yourself the qualifications." The Dominus then adds. "A transport will come down to transfer the participant aboard to the Iron Revenant. 3rd Platoon will have a day to pack their belongings. Additional briefings will be given once aboard the Ark Mechanicus."
"Finally," Colonel Mustahim adds. "The battles will be broadcast to the rest of the JTF as research materials. It's also expected that, in a time when the JTF is still relatively idle, such friendly bouts will be a regular occurrence to foster experience and martial spirits. I expect that all of us will treat our opponents as not just respected rivals but also treasured comrades off the ring. Meeting dismiss."
As 3rd Platoon and other Cadian 8th Guards stand up for a collective salute, I mentally let out a sigh. As I feared, things will only be hectic from here on out. At least the upcoming spar with the Salamander Space Marines will be an interesting one. However, I don't know whether or not any of the source materials have an event like this... Although with how expansive the 40K universe is, there should be at least a few such instances, right?
As we start filing out of the meeting room, I am called back by Mama.
"Corporal Ein, a moment of your time, please?"
I stop, waving at Weiss and Johnson to go ahead without me as I turn around. Mama is moving closer to me while the other leaders are busy talking to one another. Standing in front of me, Mama rests a gloved hand on top of my head caringly.
"My dear, are you nervous?" Mama smiles softly as she gazes at me in concern.
I let Mama pat my hair, knowing how she finds comfort in the action. "The spars? Or going to space for the first time, Mama?"
"Can't it be both?" Mama raises an eyebrow.
I nod slightly, replying with a small but confident smile. "I admit there's a small part of me that is nervous. It will be the first time I do any of the two things, after all."
"And the bigger part?" Mama asks gently, moving her hand from my hair to lift up my chin, allowing her to gaze into my eyes more clearly.
I answer honestly, my eyes unwavering. "Cautiously excited, Mama."
Mama's smile turns into a proud grin when she sees my steadfastness.
"Good. In the upcoming spars, I can't help you. It will be through the effort of you and your Platoon that you may see the hope of victory. The only advice that I can see being worth a damn in this situation is to give it your utmost. Do anything you can do to achieve success. Most importantly, don't ever give up when facing Astartes."
I nod solemnly as Mama pats me a few times on the shoulder.
"Duly noted, Mama." I then say with a hand on my heart. "As your daughter, I will do you proud."
The seriousness with which I say my vow catches Mama slightly off-guard. With the barest hint of a blush, Mama ruffles my hair lovingly. "Have I ever told you how much I love you for showing such pure devotion to me?"
I giggle. "All the time, Mama."
"Good." Mama grins. "I will continue to do so in the future because you deserve to hear it many times over."
Mama steps back a bit, scanning me from head to toe before nodding to herself.
"This is the first step to being a true warrior that can stand shoulder to shoulder with us, dear daughter. Succeed, and you will find there is little you can't overcome, as long as you have the good heart to do so. Now move along, that Thunderhawk will hate its passenger for being late."
I snap a crisp salute, only when Mama nods at me to leave do I turn for the door. I feel emboldened by the wish Mama has left unspoken. While I understand why Mama and the rest have orchestrated the spars, the abruptness of which has caught me off-guard. The issue with Chaos' infiltration on Cadia is still somewhat unresolved, left simmering until a breakthrough can be made. For the JTF to conduct a martial tournament right now seems out of place. Still, Mama and the leaders must have their own reasoning.
It doesn't change the fact that I am fully intent on keeping my promise to Mama though. While I am not brass enough to call upon my supernatural power, I will not shy away from using all my mental faculty and all my physical ability. Win or lose, 3rd Platoon will make our mark on the Salamanders.