"I see them" was 923's muffled reply, as he opened fire on the advancing mob of trainees.

923 had set his rifle to single shot, as the burst setting for Lascarbines never worked properly. The weapon pattern was antiquated, even by Imperial standards, and had been replaced millennia ago by most Imperial Guard units. That said, Lascarbines still saw use across countless systems, as the older models were cheap to mass produce and required only the most basic of technological know-how to maintain. A favorite of conscripts and PDF units the Imperium over.

923 could not find enough words to express his loathing for this weapon. It's rate of fire was pitiful for a start. It was grossly inaccurate, even after tuning the sights, and overheated too quickly. He had barely shot off a dozen rounds before the indicator light for the heat sink was flashing amber. What a terrible waste of Imperial production capability.

With that in mind though, it's deficiencies could be overcome providing they were employed in sufficient numbers and utilizing volley fire pattern dispersal. Something which their tiny team of veterans could not do, but that the trainees were employing to surprising effectiveness.

923 was forced to take cover in the trench, as a hail of red energy bolts chewed up the sandbags he had been leaning on just a moment ago. He was surprised to say the least. These recruits were not as useless as he had originally assumed. They had a modicum of discipline and were using their numbers effectively\.

"Gerborov, I'm am pinned down. I need time to get to a better firing point" he voxed, trying to keep an air of his usual indifferent tone, but he was struggling. He had been legitimately taken aback at the trainees effectiveness.

He had been wrong. Round one to them. Round two would play out differently.

"Deploying smokes in three" he shouted. "Three!"

Slinging his rifle, he removed a pair of grenades and removed their pins in a well practiced motion.

"Two!"

Pushing away from the wall of the trench, he turned around and planted his feet as firmly as he could in the quagmire the trench had become.

"One!"

He lobbed the right grenade first, then the left. They arched upwards, over the razor wire pickets and landed just ahead of the first trench, that currently teemed with eager recruits letting loose sporadic volleys of lasfire. Here an there junior NCOs was trying to get some semblance of a firing line started, but they were having mixed success.

923 didn't bother to see if they succeeded. The grenades went of in quick succession, causing momentary panic in the first trench, as the recruits yelled back an forth, unsure if that was a simulated grenade or not. The foosh of smoke that enveloped the entire eastern flank of the trench line drowned out their confusion.

923 wasted no time making a brake for higher ground. He clambered out of his foxhole and made his way twenty yards westward down the trench line. He stopped after reaching the raised dugout that would had been perfectly suited for a heavy weapons team to occupy. 923 occupied it instead with his nearly useless Lascarbine.

Taking up a firing position once more, he laid down a respectable volley towards the trainees, even managing to take a few down who had foolishly poked their heads up over the edge of their own trench to get a better look around. The fell back in surprise, with obvious kill marks on their helmets or chest plates.

"Votum, Barren. This is 923" he voxed in between volleys, mindful of the heat indicator that was flashing angrily at him. "I request fire support on the eastern flank. The recruits look be mustering for a flanking maneuver. The razorwire will only slow them down for so long" @Vulpas @Verticus

923 hoped his Lascarbine didn't explode before they got the message.

"Coming Right up," Barren said through his Vox bead, he appeared from a pile of debris and began firing off his Las rifle at the recruits setting his las rifle to stun. Grabbing up a concussion from his belt, He unpinned it and threw it towards the eastern flank, Taking cover as return shots came he began crawling back through debris making his way into the trench Climbing in as he made it to the Lip of the trench, He fell in and readied his las gun, Putting it to its high stun charge setting. Raising himself back up he took quick aim and began firing.

With things going even worse than even she anticipated, Saven threw the idea of acting all sniper-y out of the window as she needed to act now to prevent the recruits from risking a breakthrough pass the trench area.... So the Sergeant leapt off her perch and activated her Grav-chute and floated down onto the battlefield raging between her lot and the enemy, aiming to land in the trenches: It was a highly-risky move but it was worth a try in order to win the exercise.

While Saven was coming into the fray from above, she opened fire on the recruits, las-carbine firing shot after shot aimed at the NCOs that were leading the recruit squads, as trying to cut off the leadership of the enemy was mostly likely going to help her squad's effort to hold the trench area than just more las-carbine fire aimed at the generic grunts.

You hear and simultaneously feel a cataclysmic bang that seems to stretch on for hours. The floor shakes like a crashing lander, as walls buckle and ceiling tiles avalanche from above. A rent in the floor opens, and you smell the faint odor of the planet’s noxious atmosphere wafting into the room. The lights flicker, and conduits and cables that should be hidden by bulkheads are suddenly visible. Sparks and fluids shower everywhere. When the floor finally stops shaking—or at least seems to slow—it seems uneven, as though the entire level is tilted to the side. Emergency lights have kicked on, granting a surreal contrast of light and shadow as cables and pipes begin to sway in what had been a secure environment until moments earlier. Emergency klaxons blare intermittently as they gain and lose power. The Recruits are knocked over and fall into mud and holes. Several die as pieces of roof and high rise fall on them. some fall into the muddy trench to be drowned as others fall on them and get buried by mudslides. Without proper command they start to panic and run every which way. The watcher above fall to their deaths or severe injury.

Realizing that the shaking was obviously not part of the exercise and that undicplined but good men were dieing Gerborov sprung into action. He climbed onto the top of the rock he had sat on while waiting for the exercise to begin and took off his rebreather. "Soldiers of the Imperium if you can hear my voice then listen! Stop your panicking and follow me I will take you to the secure parts of the area where what ever is causing this destruction can not reach!" He raised his carbine in the air and raised it to the highest setting and fired in an attempt to get more atention. "Grab the wounded and Follow me!" His voice boomed over every sound and reached the ears of every guardsman in the trenches. Gerborov jumped off his perch and grabbed two wounded that layed in the small no man's land and heft them over his shoulders leaving behind their equipment and dragged two more with his free hands and began to run as fast as he was able over the small land slides and through mud for the entrance into the subterranean bunkers that they had come out of when they first arrived at the course as they should be properly prepared for a tremor like the one currently happening.

Shortly into the Caverns there was cavr-ins and unstable sections. These were abandoned tunnels, safest was out in the open or in the reinforced bunker small ways in where the last objective was.

Gerborov leads them to the reinforced bunker that was the last objective.

923 ceased fire as soon as he felt the first tremors. Muscle memory took over as his ingrained training forced him to throw himself flat to the ground, expecting the rumbling explosions of artillery to hammer the trench line into gaping craters.

The explosions never came, but the rumbling persisted for several minutes before at last subsiding. 923 dared not to move until the earth stilled itself. Satisfied that the tremors had ceased for the time being, he heaved himself out of the trench at took stock of the situation.

Chaos, absolute chaos. Those trainees that were not dead from falling debris or swallowed up by the earth were fleeing in all directions, the cowards!

923 raised his weapon and cranked it to full power. Pressing the stock to his shoulder, he took aim at the back of the nearest recruit.

"The Emperor does not suffer cowardice!" he bellowed, squeezing the trigger. Instead of the familiar recoil and loud zap of high powered lasbeam, the weapon exploded in his grip, as the angry machine spirit of the weapon succumbed to the overheating of the power cell.

Hot metal fragments sparked out of the focus housing, forcing 923 to drop the ruined carbine in surprise. Brushing frantically at the sparks that threatened to damage the seal of his rebreather mask, dropping the ruined weapon in the process.

923 quickly ungloved his right hand and checked the mask for any damage. His panic subsided, realizing all the seals were as they should be. The Emperor was indeed merciful. The fleeing recruit was granted a respite for now.

Replacing his glove, 923 scanned what remained of the training course. The no mans land between the industrial buildings and the trench line was . . . far more desolate . . . than it had been not five minutes ago. He needed to regroup with the others and find out what was going on, as this did not seem to be part of the exercise, though it was certainly more to his liking. This calamity would separate the weaklings from the pack. As it should have been from the start.

923 noticed movement to his right. He witnessed the Vostroyan trying to shout over the din and rally the recruits. He leapt down from his rocky vantage point, hefted an injured recruit over each shoulder and jogged towards what remained of the industrial outbuildings. Most of the surviving recruits seemed to be marshaling there. 923 followed suit.

As he meandered his way past the gaping sink holes and fallen sections of rockcrete, he snatched up an abandoned Lascarbine. It was still loaded with a full mag. The original owner was less then a meter away, his legs caught beneath a massive section of roof. The recruit was still moaning quietly, clinging to life, but just barely.

923 paid him little mind as he strode past. The recruit reached out and latched on to the hem of his greatcoat. 923 stopped and looked down at the dying man . . . no he was barely a man. No more then 18 years standard, if that. He pleaded with 923 to help him.

923 didn't even hesitate. He shot the man in the head at nearly point black range. If he could not leave the battlefield under his own power, then he was of no use to anyone. The Emperor's Mercy was all he deserved, but even that was a wasted effort as far as 923 was concerned.

Had their positions been reversed, he would have expected no different. It would have been a waste of medical resources to drag the boy to safety. Others that could be returned to combat needed the medics attention.

923 moved on, sparing no further thought for the boy.

Barren almost fell over as felt the tremors taking cover he thought for a minute they were under attack, Something was wrong very wrong he heard sink holes open up and the sound of debris falling and screams of terror and the sound of crunching bound. He looked up to see part of the Ceiling falling upon the recruits. He saw there Vostrayan trying to rally the recruits and there krieger pulling a wounded up and putting one out of his misery.

Barren put the las gun to his back and went moving forward with shock maul still in hand as he saw several recruits trying to pull several other from a debris pile that fell on him one of his own traps now becoming deadly as the situation changed from a simple pin trap to a death trap now that debris began raining down on them.

Heading to the pile of debris he went to the main part that held it down a girder that fell when the trip wire was triggered. Using his strength to move it the Catachan lifted the girder up and began ripping debris off the recruits and using his shock maul to destroy a fallen section of rocketcrete that came down on them. four recruits were pinned one of there fallen had his leg twisted likely his leg broken and another arm pulled from its socket. Grabbing the wounded man Barren lifted him to his shoulders. "Come on Grab your weapons and lets go this isn't part of the course! Rally with our Vostrayan!" He shouted as he began leading the recruits down the Vostrayans path.

Waiting to either be shot or for the ranks to throw down their weapons, Vassar felt a slight twitch in her body and immediately grabbed the officer and threw her onto the ground and went into a bracing position. While not a natural earthquake in a sense, a lifetime serving on a volcanic and seismically active planet had made her accustomed to the warning signs of incoming tremor like activity.

Almost as soon as the Corporal had done so, the officer tried to flee but was knocked off her feet as the first vibrations started. While not uncommon, the ferocity of the vibrations was slightly surprising to Vassar who knew from experience that this was no natural act. Letting her body loosen and ride the waves of kinetic energy entering her body, she somersaulted over a caved in wall and out the window. Grabbing a rusted pipe which broke away under both the stress of her weight and the violent, cataclysmic event, Vassar rode down the length until she was just about to impact into the ground.

Using a counter thrust to halt her momentum, Vassar rolled across the ground and slammed hard into a sandbagged emplacement. While not the most pleasant of landings, it had done the job as the structure she occupied began to slough off to the side and then collapsed in on itself. With a sound not too far off from Leman Russes trying to slide into an elevator shaft that was too small for them, the structures supports splintered. Kicking out plumes of debris rich smoke and fallen masonry, Vassar watched as she forced her dislocated shoulder back into place.

With a solid hmmph, the Corporal dusted herself off and took her forester cap out and placed it back onto her scalp with parade ground precision and began to walk away from the mess. Starting off with a brisk pace and then breaking out into a full on sprint, Vassar bounded over craters and trench alike stopping only to grab a lascarbine from the mud, its owners hand still twitching out from the shattered earth as synapses fired their last precious moments.

There was little time to assist the wounded or attempt to dig out the unfortunate ones...no, whatever had caused the chain of violent cataclysms would make itself known soon and Vassar felt her gut turn inside out at the thought of what it might be. Flipping open the rear fusion cell coupling and swiping it for a fresh one, Vassar slung the rifle just as she reached the walls of the training grounds.

To her left, the ground caved in drastically to a death plummet several story's below the hives grotesque mass but the event had also left ample handholds for her to ascend the walls towards the balconies above which would give the greatest freedom of motion. Vassar trusted that the rest of her "team" would know what to do in the event of an emergency but also knew that with so many of the command staff now dead, missing, or incapicitated, there would be little to rally or coordinate the forces below if needed.

Getting towards their last known position was the highest priority to secure the area and establish new lines of communication. In fact, Vassar was briefly reminded of the Chimera APC she had forced out of commission earlier and spared a glance over to see it tilting lazily to one side as it leaned precariously over a new sinkhole. Even as she watched, the weight of the armored vehicle tipped it slowly forwards until it was sucked hungrily into the void as if the planet itself was attempting to sate its hunger on anything it could.

Shaking the image from her head, Vassar continued her ascent even as rusted supports cut her hands, protruding metal work stabbed into unprotected flesh, old wounds ripped open and fresh blood sluiced down her body. The uniform she wore was for from pristine now, in fact it looked like she had bathed in the blood of her foes for several days but the Corporal used that pain to carry on. Nothing would stop her, not even death. With that she grasped over the lip of the balcony and swung herself up into the smoke wreathed platforms above.

Pulling out the lascarbine and taking aim to make sure it was clear, Vassar began to hug the wall as she advanced rapidly around the circumference towards the observation deck....