TWIN PILLARS OF IRON
It was from pride that Tristan accepted the challenge levied at him by Levente, but a desire to prove himself to his present caretaker helped fuel his natural inclination as well. There was still so much he did not know, so much that could change in a moment's notice, and he knew there was no way to return home should things change for the worse.
That's right, Tristan's home was gone. His family, everyone he had known dead and gone, all thanks to forces beyond his comprehension that stood as wicked brethren to the very same people he now relied upon. He had witnessed the carnage of his home, but he had seen the ruin the man they called Warsmith had visited upon those who had ruined it.
If it meant one day possessing that power for himself, of not just surviving but eradicating those who had taken everything from him, Tristan would do whatever he needed to reach that goal. The brutal medical examination that had shaved his head of any hair, removing a remaining trace of his father whose mane it had resembled. Toiling away at tomes he could barely comprehend and with mechanical devices far beyond anything his world had possessed. They were but stepping stones on a path to creating what Jarn spoke of, a 'Utopia' where no-one would suffer the agony the young Tristan had.
Humiliating a more experienced child at a board game was nothing compared to what other trials he had been faced with in the past weeks, and while in a more usual circumstance his mind might be riddled with reservation over his chances at victory that fear had died many days ago when witnessing the grisly fates others had been subjected to by the 'Beasts'. He had seen the animalistic behavior in them, prompting his name for the Chaos possessed Astartes, and he sensed that same primal instinct in the former barbarian child before him. He knew that Levente was not like them, for Jarn never would have taken him in if he was, but an animal was an animal and was to be treated like one in his eyes.
While preparing to play he had some of the basic rules explained to him by Jarn, including how to construct his own force and the objective of the game. To keep things simple for his first match the objective was for the player to eliminate the opposing player's force entirely rather than to capture some objective or hold some area in particular, and this simplicity meshed well with Tristan's preliminary plan for playing the battle simulation.
"Is there a limit on how many 'Basilisks' I may use?" he asked Jarn in a voice low enough that Levente was unlikely to hear, though he was uncertain if the other boy's augments would allow him to regardless.
Jarn appeared amused by the question, offering a shake of the head no as he explained the rules further, "So long as the total does not exceed the point value provided you may take as many as you desire."
There was nothing in a real life scenario saying you could not dedicate your entire force to ranged artillery, and so the game the Dodekatheon tested themselves with had no such restrictions. Victory was what mattered, not arbitrary fairness.
With that settled Tristan dedicated the vast majority of the game's "points" to fielding row after row of Basilisk artillery, placing them behind a wide array of cover and choosing to place them as far as possible away from where Levente's forces would be deployed. Levente's performance against Jarn had led the elder boy to feel that his tactics were on the right track as he had been able to inflict damage on his vastly more intelligent mentor's forces in a game where they fought over an objective, and so he tailored his list very little for his next match with the belief that a rookie would stand no chance against his brutal shock tactics.
This presumption would swiftly cost him the match, for before his warriors could reach Tristan's wall of artillery there was not a single unit left in Levente's army. The Basilisk can fire outside of its own vision, unlike many units, due to its nature as artillery and so by placing them behind cover Tristan had limited the retaliatory ability of Levente. Next, the goal was simply to eliminate the enemy before they eliminate you, and so a force entirely dedicated to hitting the enemy well before they can even engage you would possess the advantage. Building from this, Levente's army had little in the way of ranged combat and was meant to steamroll its opponents in close ranged combat, meaning that so long as the closest members of it were targeted first the ones behind them were still not a threat.
In the end it was a crushing defeat, and while an actual Astartes would have seen the outcome coming a mile away it had caught the still young and relatively inexperienced Levente by surprise.
"Tch, beginner's luck...I didn't take you for such a coward that you would eschew melee combat entirely," Levente would complain as he removed the last of his forces from the mock battlefield, having grown increasingly agitated throughout the match as his entire method of battle was rendered moot by Tristan just literally not caring to play by Levente's terms. He had seen Levente's prior battle, figured that the other boy would adopt a similar tactic, and so played accordingly.
The best swordsmen Tristan had known had been cut down at range by weapons much like the Iron Warriors wielded, and the sight of their mangled corpses was not one Tristan wished to see again. Truth be told he had grown to be repulsed by the stench of blood after being surrounded by it for so long, be it from decapitated heads or be it from a body whose torso had been cleaved through by the metal propelled by the invaders' guns.
"Winning isn't cowardly," Tristan shot back, not even bothering to look at Levente as his eyes were instead drawn to the miniature Basilisks atop the table. He liked them, and they had served him well, so he was admiring their detailed craftsmanship and painting. His father would have built him things like this had he asked, but he had never been one to impose on his family: that would require not just being selfish but also the act of talking, and he had never been particularly comfortable with that.
The only thing which drew Tristan's attention from his chosen Basilisks from the nearby shelves of displayed units was him noticing that their brief match had drawn some viewers from among the ranks of the Dodekatheon, mostly just glances from those working on various projects but also having one Astartes in particular join Jarn in observing. With unremarkable grey armor bearing no particular heraldry it appeared plain and unadorned next to the magnificent and intricate armor of the Warsmith, its simplicity allowing Tristan to see himself in the soldier's place. Could that be him one day, standing at the Warsmith's side shoulder to shoulder while bearing the armor of the Iron Warriors?
It had not been what he expected from nor wanted from life mere weeks ago, but now the thought was a reassuring one. One which gave him a steady path forward even in the chaotic turmoil that had become his life. While it was unlikely the member of the Iron Legion knew that they were helping inspire him, Tristan appreciated the sight of the Space Marine regardless since it gave him hope that he too could one day achieve the same.
Whereas Tristan's attention was captured by Jarn's subordinate, Levente was oblivious to there being another Astartes at all. Levente instead was entirely focused on Jarn himself once the Warsmith weighed in on the match.
"Do not think ill of your loss, Levente. Consider it another learning experience and use it to improve your own methods moving forward. We all have our talents, and if Tristan's mind was less capable of adapting and learning he would not be here."
Levente's humble deference to Jarn cropped up once again with him bowing in respect, something which Tristan mirrored directly after so as to not appear rude. After all the Warsmith had just complimented him, and it was one that made the boy feel something approaching warmth for the first time in recent memory. While Jarn was not particularly gregarious or charismatic he possessed a firm nature that still commanded respect in its own way, as the words he said were always his true thoughts and direct.
"Ossus is awaiting you two for your official induction into your new training squad. Levente will show the way, for from today onward you two shall be brothers of the Iron Warriors, or at least aspirants thereof. Always remember that."
Budding rivalry aside, both Tristan and Levente could accept what Jarn said: if he willed it they would work together, for their own distaste was a paltry matter when compared to the decree of a man they each owed their life to.
The mention of training came close to sending a shiver down Tristan's spine, however, as when standing beside Levente he was all too aware of the fact that he was in no way the other boy's physical equal.
Begrudgingly Levente had brought Tristan to where Ossus was having them meet within the depths of the Eisernen, Jarn instead busy with his own duties and thus unable to lead them there himself. Levente knew the way however as this was not his first time training, nor the second, nor even the hundredth: it was everyday life for him at this point, and he relished the opportunity to improve his might each day.
He was being reassigned to a special squad that would include Tristan within it as well, leaving Levente with eager anticipation of testing his might against a new batch of recruits. The last had been unable to properly keep up with him, for even aspiring Neophytes struggled against him the same way they had against Jarn many years prior.
The room which Levente led Tristan to was fairly open, possessing little in the way of amenities and instead being designed to provide its inhabitants with space to undergo a myriad of drills ranging from hand-to-hand combat all the way to conditioning and strengthening. Whatever equipment was needed would be supplied from a nearby room where it was kept, while the space itself could see dozens of Astartes training with room to spare.
Unfortunately for Jarn's Grand Company they did not yet possess enough recruits to properly fill such a location, as there were many such rooms and by splitting trainees among them to provide the most one to one training possible it left the rooms feeling sparse. In this instance Tristan found himself joined by eight other boys ranging from his own age to seeming more like Levente's thus making ten in total. Ossus was present as well and standing before the other trainees, as if they had been waiting for the arrival of their last two members until now.
"Fall in line," Ossus spoke with authority, prompting Levente to do just that and Tristan to mirror his behavior. They joined the line of young men with each of their positions chosen with some minor consideration on the part of both Levente and Tristan: Levente placed himself at the beginning of the line that faced Ossus as if to stand out as the first among them, while Tristan chose a place which made him fourth in the rough line. From what he had gathered the Iron Warriors were the fourth 'Legion' whatever that was in reference to, and he saw a lot of references to the number four throughout his studies thus far. He liked four, just as he liked Basilisks now. Four was a good number, and so he wanted to be fourth in line.
Some Astartes of certain Legions might have spoken to their gathered recruits in a soft manner that spoke of the history of their Legion and tried to inspire them: instead Ossus cut to the point the moment the ten trainees were ready, not sugarcoating their present situation in the slightest.
"As recruits your names are irrelevant. In the grand scheme of things if you were to be tasked with battle you would perform little different from one another, a negligible smudge on a foe's boot when the battle came to an end. There is an artistry to war, but it all begins with the fundamentals: numbers, equipment, supplies. How many Astartes do you have firing at the enemy, and with what weapons? What is the expected damage output? How will their progress or lack thereof effect their comrades elsewhere on the battlefront? The names of each individual member of each squad matter not when there are thousands, and while a truly outstanding Astartes such as our Warsmith may equal many others this is the exception, not the rule."
The Apothecary seemed to be passing judgment on the crudeness of war all the while accepting its reality, and so he continued even as the children gathered there realized they were about to have their names stripped from them for the purposes of training with Ossus. Levente seemed used to it, while the fresher members such as Tristan were surprised but hid it as best as they could lest they seem weak.
"For this reason you are to be known by your numbers when training here with one another. You will earn your right to a name when you are more than a rounding error to our forces, so Alpha Squad, count off and speak your names to me."
Levente proudly spoke up with his booming voice that helped make him such an imposing presence among the trainees, "One!"
Tristan dared not look to either side of himself to gauge the other trainees, lest he take his attention away from Ossus and appear disrespectful. He had seen a man drill soldiers in his town to prepare for outside threats, the only reason they had been able to hold out at all against the tide of cultists that would one day flood them, and so he was familiar with the general concept of a military officer whipping others into shape.
"Two!"
"Three!"
Now it was just his turn, and so Tristan spoke up as confidently as he could while maintaining a proper stance with rigid attention to how he carried his shoulders.
"Four!"
Four was not a particularly meaningful name, but it would be what Tristan was called by his fellow trainees so he supposed he would have to get used to it. At least it was Four and not Three, Five, or some other inferior number. He would likely grow to resent that.
"Five!"
"Six!"
"Seven!"
"Eight!"
"Nine!"
"Ten!"
When their new 'names' were finished being called out one by one Ossus nodded, showing approval for their quick adherence to his decree.
"Good. There are others like you in similar training groups, but they do not matter to you: the nine others in this squad are those you will bleed and struggle beside for the years to come. Foster whatever friendships or rivalries suit you, but know that if one of you fails then all of you do. Each of you may possess some skill or talent the others do not, but so long as you are in Alpha squad your talent shall be theirs. Assist one another, rise up together, and learn from your relative successes and failures so that one day you may be worthy of being named Astartes."
Tristan glanced over towards Levente's direction, unable to properly see him through the two other boys in the way but all the while getting the feeling that Levente was doing the same right now. They would either succeed together or fail together, and so despite their initial misgivings towards one another they would be forced to cooperate regardless.
"Whereas other groups were determined based on relative age and development, the members of your squad were instead chosen as the most promising among your peers. Do not think this makes you special: if anything you will face greater hardship because of your differences in ages and implantation. Whereas a Neophyte such as One here is already on his way to becoming an Astartes, others of you have yet to receive a single implant of your forebearers' Gene Seed."
Tristan was quite certain he was one of those spoken of who had received no implants, as from what he had learned he was too young at the moment not to mention too weak to reliably survive their implantation...meanwhile Levente had received some and they helped account for his superior physical capabilities.
"Today's exercise shall be a simple one I have modeled after a day of importance to our Warsmith, while also perhaps granting you insight for what is in store for you all should you progress as Neophytes."
Levente grinned to himself knowingly while Tristan was uncertain what the significant event referenced meant, with Levente's certainty soon proven right as Ossus looked at 'Two' and then over to 'Ten' while glancing past all those between them.
"Two through Ten, you shall fight One in hand to hand combat. No severe injuries are allowed, nor is death, but I expect you to otherwise give it your all and fight until the last one of you is standing. Am I understood?"
The fact that Ossus was making this a nine versus one event did not instill Tristan with the confidence it may have otherwise, because he had just witnessed the Astartes purposefully handicapping themselves to offer a fairer contest against Levente in the Dodekatheon...if Ossus believed that this drill was best done by having nine face against one then it meant Levente could take them. The Iron Warriors Tristan had met were calculating and analytical, something he was growing to be as well, and that did not bode well in this situation.
"Yes sir!" Tristan called out a beat after his fellow trainees began to say the same thing in compliance, Levente taking the place of Ossus before them now while Ossus himself stepped aside so that he was close enough to intervene if necessary but also not in the way of the coming brawl.
"Good. Now begin."
With a physique that put even the strongest of the other boys present to shame Levente beckoned them forward, obviously enjoying himself as he taunted the other nine, "It's time for decimation, you rats!"
As swiftly as Tristan had found victory in a tactical scenario against Levente this conflict decisively ended in Levente's favor, for while Tristan hung back initially to see what he was facing he soon had number Five hurled at him as a projectile with a one-handed throw by Levente. The sheer strength difference was astounding, for while Levente had been brought in for his impressive might and aggressive nature gaining the power of an Astartes day by day had turned him into a force of nature best avoided in combat for others who would typically be his peers.
Tristan was not quick enough on his feet to avoid being hit by the other trainee thrown at him, but he did manage to duck to the side enough so that he could free himself from their beaten form...by which time he noticed that four of his fellow aspiring Astartes were laid flat on the ground as well, some struggling to breathe after receiving gut punches and similar blows to their bodies by Levente's large fists.
Knowing that if he just gave up he would be looked poorly upon by Ossus and thus by Jarn it was little wonder why Tristan ran in to sling a fist at Levente anyways, finding himself doubled over in pain not a second after when Levente first swung Three at him and then followed up the hit with a fist right into the center of Tristan's rib cage. The flailing attempts of the other trainees, all of whom were much stronger than Tristan, continued and were met with similar failure even as they tried to attack him all at once. Tristan meanwhile was fighting the urge to throw up the meal Arien brought to him earlier, and by the time he recovered enough to stand up fully he found himself alone against Levente.
A quick glance revealed that all the other aspirants had been beaten enough that they could no longer fight back, and so Tristan now had Levente's undivided attention. To his credit he would last another minute even after, refusing to just stay down whenever a particularly heavy blow had been landed against him and knocked him off his feet. While Levente's raw strength was impressive, so was the speed at which he propelled his body and fists, making each strike far more powerful than if he had been less agile.
"Yield."
That demand was repeated many a time before Tristan could no longer actually physically stand back up, at which point Ossus called the match in the now exhausted Levente's favor.
"Well done, Levente. Now help them to my workplace so I may undo the damage you have inflicted."
Despite Tristan's refusal of help standing up Levente still grabbed the younger Neophyte by the shirt and hoisted him over his shoulder, carrying him as easily as an adult might a toddler.
"As you wish."
Brutish as he might be, Tristan had to admit that his rival to Jarn's attention and respect was a natural warrior...Tristan himself might have been slight but the other trainees had all been fairly fit and muscular, making Levente's complete annihilation of their combined efforts all that much more impressive.
Defeated and humiliated, Tristan passed out on the way to Ossus' medical room, begrudgingly accepting as he slipped out of consciousness that he was going to be feeling this pain a whole lot more often soon enough.
A/N: Here we get a glimpse at the respective talents of our two primary trainees, as well as how they differ. Hope you enjoyed, and that I'll get to hear your thoughts in the reviews below!
