"Us? We're a squad from the Thirty-Third Company. The fighting just now threw our organization into chaos." The Ultramarines answered steadily and moved closer to Cato Sicarius. The two groups finally stopped ten meters apart.
There was something off about the troops before him, but Cato Sicarius could not put his finger on it. He could only secretly order his men to prepare for battle, guarding against a sudden attack from the forces ahead.
The instant he uttered the first syllable, Trazyn was violently hurled toward him.
They were enemy infiltrators!
Cato Sicarius understood at once. In a flash, he twisted aside to evade Trazyn and caught the enemy's attack on his sword. Then he drew the bolt pistol at his waist and fired two shots into the enemy's still-tense knees.
The enemy lost his balance and dropped to his knees. Cato Sicarius took the opportunity to knock aside the blade, then swept his own sword in a graceful arc and drove it hard into the enemy's chest, pinning him in place.
This gave Cato Sicarius a meat shield capable of blocking the enemy's hail of fire, buying him more time to assess the battlefield.
Trazyn raised his head from the scorching mud. It was rare for him to be in such a sorry state.
Looking back, he discovered that those who had led him here were not Ultramarines at all, but Waaagh! Alpharius agents painted like Ultramarine Boyz.
The Orks' disguises were brutally crude and simple: they had merely put bloodied Ultramarines helmets over their own heads.
Yet strengthened by the Waaagh! field, even such a simple disguise required exceptionally keen observation to detect the slightest irregularity.
Cato Sicarius clashed with the infiltrating Ork agents. As a vain and proud swordsman often mocked by Roboute Guilliman, he possessed swordsmanship