"Ha of course I remember I was stuck in one for six years!" Gerborov laughed off the Grenadier's obvious just distain for him. He knows of his kind ,his planet too wanted to redeem itself in the eyes of the imperium though Vostroya only had to give every first born to the guard. While he didn't know the specifics he knew that krieg was a radioactive and chemical wasteland and their troops were completly loyal no matter the circumstances. Which is why Gerborov was fine with what ever the man said so long as they get the job done.

As they arrived at the place they were to make the trench he placed his training rifle by a large stone and took the shovel he was carrying and drove it into the ground. "Hmm looks like it is relativly soft it might have a few stones left in it but not many the miners did their jobs." He turned to 923 "I say two trenches one main and a small reserve connected to the main so we can have somewhere to fall back too if they overwhelm us with numbers. What do you think?"
@Mechiaus

In the distance, various squads of recruits are forming up. The heraldry of the patches and various markings show these recruits to be from 589th Solan Guard Heavy Infantry Regiment. Instead of nice neat rows of soldiers in platoon formations, they looked like heavily armed ganger groups hanging out. At least they are holding their weapons properly. The non-coms seem to have some discipline. Besides the recruits forming up at the entrance to the course, various officers and higher ranking enlisted started forming crowds in the buildings and walkways above. They were loudly making bets and coming up with a point system. Included in this bet system was the PDF Hive Commander, who looked sour at the course the veterans had devised.

Having slipped away unnoticed, Vassar had discarded most of her uniforms vestments to ensure only the monotone dark grey bodyglove remained. Smearing her face with soot and a small mixture of cameoline paint, she slowly crawled her way towards the ranks of the gathering recruits. While the demonstration had not yet officially begun, Vassar knew that the PDFs hierarchy had already broken their word from what was supposed to be a light training exercise.

The formations gathering ahead were definitely still green but represented the most experienced of the soon to be PDF troopers. Slithering underneath an upturned rusted pipe, the Corporal laid down an improvised snare mine with a custom pressure switch underneath a fallen metal strut which blocked most of the path. It would be impossible for anyone approaching this way to advance without vaulting it and the pressure would detonate the explosive.

Laying down det tape across its length and attaching three more mines at various points to provide the most coverage, Vassar looked up as the first formations were beginning to move into starting position. There would not be enough time to fallback to the main group which suited her just fine. Taking out her training knife and sliding gingerly between two fallen pieces of masonry and pulling the topsoil across the opening leaving only a small air pocket which would remain unseen even to trained eyes, she waited out her opportunity to strike.

What the others hadn't noticed before she had slipped away was that the Corporal had secretly filled up a bottle with promethium to make an improvised molotov. No one would be expecting there to be actual fire on the course and with the amount of refuse, it would easily break across most of the field and further divide their ranks...the mass confusion and fear would work to her advantage as she would approach from behind and silence their commander knowing full well that the PDF would not fight from the front like the average Imperial Guard commander but would instead find an observation point to view from afar...

All that remained was to wait the last few minutes as darkness slowly crept across the now semi-fortified fields. Eyes piercing out from the shadows, dual crimson orbs watched venomously out as the first ranks now approached. Yes, this will be fun. Vassar thought...let the games begin.

After Gerborov and 923 had dug the small trench network and rested up for a bit Gerborov had gotten his rebreather during that time and by comparison to 923's his was a work of art brass plating and engravings in it telling a short Vostroyan folk tale. It covered his entire face and had two tubes going into an airscrubber attached to his belt on his right side. He was siting on the large rock he had leaned his training rifle against when the recruits arrived. The red lenses shined as he turned his head towards the kriegsman. "They are worse than I thought just listen to them. No better than common thugs wiping them into shape will take more time than I thought."

With the course set up, and with Saven's own opinion being that the only way that it could be made more evil was if the veterans had.... Made their own private acquisitions that might not be entirely in the spirit of 'Non-lethal training exercise.' And to be honest, she would be more surprised if they hadn't done that.
From one of her perchs in the final section of the course, high above the ground it was easy to see the newbies who looked like gangers rather than proper Guardsmen getting ready to tackle the course, the unhappy Hive PDF commander, and various other figures.

She was confident that if any of the recruits made it past the kill-building and the trench area, they'd have a final dose of misery: More trenches for Gerborov and 923, platforms above the ground that she could move around, plenty of cover for their side and generally, the entire area was stacked in the team's favour, with the odd nod to fairness, such as the occasional bit of cover for the recruits. Either way, the recruits were going to have to be damn skilled or lucky in order to actually finish the course. Firlaeth hoped that this would show people the reason why you don't place veterans in charge of training exercises.

The Tempestor now-made Prime would advise his secondary, "Secondus Ilovaiski; report to the trap building once finished with cordoning off the streets for further work orders." @TuskatheDaemonKilla . After the Scion concluded his command, he would begin his work at remodeling the interior of the 'trap' industrial building for the trainees; first he had to go to the building, which was now his current process, moving to the chosen building itself.

Ferenien was trained to attack and defend with little-to no preparations; such a taught skill would make assessing and adjusting the traps and geography of the internal industrial structure easier than naught. The 'Stormtrooper' would enter the building after a small trek, where he would analyze internal integrity of the building as well as the layout of it beneath his specially tuned helmet optics. He would begin his work at making the terrain hard to traverse- turns and bends into dark corridors, restrictions to open-area catwalks, the works.

"On my way" Gerborov would get up from his perch on the rock and grabbed his training rifle and made his way there. He waved to the Kriegsman though it was obvious he didn't care, he hadn't said a word to him once they got to work but that was to be exspetced of a man that was in the death korps. As he made his way into the trap building he slowed his pace and looked to the floor to avoid any already set traps though it was easier than one would expect since he knew traps have been made. He eventually came to where his Prime is and gave him a quick salute "What do you want me to do?"

The Prime looked to his Secondus "Select the entrance and exit, then prepare traps near those areas." The feeling, on an unrelated note from the Prime's thought and the situation they're in, is like that of how young individuals would set up a haunted house, hard to move 'one-way' paths and traps at almost every corner, it was as if they were making a house of non-heretical horrors for the Guardsmen, with this thought in mind; The Scion continued to adjust pathways and set traps as he went.

One of the people in the walkway would look oddly familiar to some. He was dressed in a good red and green uniform with scaled carapace. He was a broad man with an augmented eye and arm. He wore a beret for headgear. This man was talking to the PDF Hive Commander who was suddenly smiled, calling for an aide to hurry to do something.

@Maleth

923 said nothing, only bringing up his magnoculars to take in the scene of the massing recruits for himself. The Vostroyan's input was confirmed, the PDF trainees did indeed look like gangers, rather then proper soldiers. Each of them would likely be more concerned for himself, rather then his squad-mates, or even the overarching objective itself. That would be their downfall.

They still cared about their own well being. That was a weakness 923 would exploit.

To his left, Gerborov pressed his hand to his ear, likely receiving orders via voxbead. After acknowledging, he got up and made his towards the industrial buildings ahead. He even turned back to wave.

What a strange man . . . 923 through to himself. He wasted his efforts trying to elicit a response. Death Korpsmen had no time for small talk or pleasantries.

923 turned his attention away from the Vostroyan and to his own equipment. He checked over his weapon for the tenth time. Ensuring the low power setting was set, as per the Sargent's orders. He moved on to his webbing, checking his magazine pouches for his spare powerpacks and the larger loops for his grenades.

All were accounted for, though the fact that his grenades were only smoke and flashbangs disappointed him. As well as some artillery flares to simulate bombardment, he was equipped with the accompanying artillery simulation projectiles. Just duds that made lots of noise and smoke. Enough to disorient, but cause no lasting harm.

At least his Shock Maul was real. It wouldn't kill anyone unfortunately, not unless he tried very, very hard. It would make a lasting impression though.

His equipment as it should be, 923 took up his rifle and leveled it on the sandbags stacked along the edge of the trench. A few rows of barbed wire had been strewn along the approach to his position. Easy enough to breach if one had the right tool, but it would slow the recruits down long enough to allow time to react.

Despite his best efforts though, 923 knew those fools would reach the trench eventually, they had the numbers. When that happened though, he would fall back and choke out the trench with smoke, then fall upon them out of the gloom and demonstrate Krieg's expertise at close quarters fighting.

They would pile into the trench as soon as they would see him retreat, thinking they had won the day, only to fall into his trap. He could already imaging their faces, as the grim soldier strode out of the gloom, deaths-head mask and chest plate etched to resemble the exposed ribs of a dead man., like death incarnate. He would fall upon them and drive them back, leaving their bruised bodies behind him in his wake.

He was already looking forward to it.

"Sargent, this is 923" he voxed. "Trench area prepared as ordered. Awaiting further instructions"
@Maleth