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Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Thanks Pyrolchi, I like the Idea of the machine spirit being something that is quite tangible (especially if you are linked in via spine plug!) and not just a result of superstition.

   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Prometheus Malcador Pattern is named such, because along with stealing fire from the gods Prometheus was a bit of a thinker, his name literally means fore-thought. Therefore consideration went in when preparations were made for manufacture on Thryn and a case-mate was seen as not up to the task. The bastards probably stole the STC too...

A one-fifty mill howitzer is my take on a battle cannon (I pulled the calibrage out of my *&@# but it seems to fit well enough) because it's generally depicted as a rather stumpy weapon, and does not scream kinetic potential to me. But kinetic potential is not the be-all and end-all.

Theory wise a howitzer is ideal for engaging hardened targets and entrenched infantry, (Hence why the breakthrough tank army is rocking a heap of big armoured tanks with howitzers) and packing HEAT you'd do well against enemy armour.
You'd lose out at range, but you literally have other tanks with laser-cannons, so you'd counter that weakness with tactics or section composition.

It's crude using a howitzer in a battle tank(rather than a gun (like a vanquisher), but it has successfully been done and it seems very 'guard to me. Especially if you don't have the best gunnery and you're fighting flimsyier or similar vehicles.

The IS 2 for instance was given a lower velocity 122mm gun rather than a100mm gun that had superior armour piercing power because it was a heavy tank and expected to engage hardened positions and entrenched troops.

This message was edited 3 times. Last update was at 2019/10/03 10:04:37


   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







You might notice that a lot of the machines in my fiction are comparatively lightly armed, as unlike on the table-top ammunition capacity is a concern that is factored in.

Don't want to go to be constantly scooting off every 5 minutes to re-supply while the infantry are left without heavy support.

   
Made in gb
Liberated Grot Land Raida






Northern Ireland

Nice scene, pretty rugged. I like the idea of a salvaged tank that keeps breaking down having a broken machine spirit that doesn't want to fight anymore. Makes me want to get to know Scourge a bit more.

   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Thanks Crowe

   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Sorry guys been caught up with a heap of modelling and have had little time to write :( (for this thread at least).

   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Reinforcements: The great thorny desert 50 Kilometres west of the Gauel valley floor
Spoiler:
Sergeant Harry Luis dug another thorn tip from his hand, it was his hobby since the truck crashed and he was tipped into a thorn tree. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, aside from the red welts which wouldn’t stop itching for another two days, most of the thorns came out easily enough because they were surrounded by pus. Most of all it gave him something to do during the monotonous march, since they’d lost several vehicles to aerial strikes

rifle sections were to march.
Now he was in the shade of a decently shady tree, had his load off his back, a full stomach, plenty of water and a sharp dagger and some splinters to occupy his mind. Well not splinters, mildly poisonous thorns, had him feeling numb all over when he woke up. He’d of course feared the worst. He guessed he had a lot to be thankful for.

That the fighter craft that had strafed them wasn’t actually kitted for ground attack. That it hadn’t come back with friends.

A scout car pulled up beside the track. As it did so the passenger dusted off a black cap and pulled it on her head. The black hat was perhaps as old as he was perhaps as old as he was, meaning, he estimated, she had around ten to twelve years of battle experience.


Harry found himself suddenly conscious of how far his service rifles was from his hand. Old habits die hard and a black hat was always a black hat no matter how friendly they were, no matter how pretty they were.

Besides since he’d put a hole through that black hat on Camari IV seeing one sent a chill up his spine.

“S’sar.” He said with a nod and even a grin.

She returned the nod. “Where’s the command post?”

“Eight hundred metres that way, Major’s expectin.” He replied re-sheathing the dagger.

He heard someone’s voice behind him. “Someone’s coming up the track.”

A small column of camouflaged uniforms and newly minted body plates. “Looks like reinforcements.”

The whole section noticed the long black coat and black hat, anyone willing to wear a coat like that in 38’ heat was clearly not of sound mind. Looks like trouble.


“On your feet soldier. You’re a disgrace.” Harry looked up at the boy. He was what? Seventeen? Eighteen? Harry was surprised this fellow was wearing a full commissar’s uniform, wasn’t even a cadet.
Why the young black hat singled him out Harry couldn’t say, but he’d been called worse.

It was that moment when the world pauses for a moment in mid action. The moment when everyone in the vicinity knows something serious is happening, they’re just working out how serious it is, and if it concerns them.
Harry didn’t go for his rifle, that was a quick route to a shallow grave.

The black hat wasn’t technically in his command structure, whatever notions he held. But it wouldn’t help anything being stubborn, especially with this boy, Harry got to his feet as fast as his fatigued and aching body would allow.

“You are a poor excuse of a soldier.” Something in the black hat’s tone filled his veins with fire. It may have been because the black hat was so clearly straight from the scholar prodogem. It may have been that he’d realised only minutes before that he had been in the Fusiliers fighting on the Imperium’s frontlines for eleven years.

What was more his father was a grenadier, his mother came from a world named war in its tongue. His uncle was a coronel in the 87th Karsk Guards Grenadiers Assault Corp, and he had never considered anything else but joining up.

The black hat was reaching for his pistol. Harry was keenly aware that half his section were reaching for their weapons. This commissar was new, fresh off the ship and yet to learn you didn’t draw on a volunteer. It was a bad situation for everyone involved. The commissar in the scout car was a witness, and as they said; one’s a possible misfire, two is quite blatantly murder.
Harry's blood seemed to boil in his veins, a part of him wondered if that was the dragon blood his father had spoken of.

There came the low hum of a plasma weapon primed and ready.

The new commissar didn’t miss a beat, at least that could be said for the scholar prodogem. “I suggest you lower that weapon, this does not concern you.” He said over his shoulder to the dusty officer in the scout car.

“I think you should move your hand from yours, it does in fact concern me.” Harry never thought he’d be saved from a black hat by another, but it was not unwelcome.

“This is a matter of the Commissariate.” He replied, his adolescent voice letting him down, Harry didn’t care for the notion of being shot by a boy in a misguided attempt to show authority.

“I presume you are freshly arrived Commissar Yarvov, I am Lord Commissar Iydlth.”

“My Lord,” Yarvov bowed, hand still on the pistol handle. “This man has been found wanting.”

“In whose eyes?” Iydlth scathed. “Stand down before I find you wanting. Besides the trooper on his feet is he not, what did you want of the Sergeant?”

“My Lord I was to ask for the location of your command post.” He managed to keep his voice level this time.

“Clearly.” She said sounding unimpressed. “You’re attached to this platoon as of now, anything you do, you will consult with me is that clear?”

“Yes my Lord.” He said, to his credit, without a trace of anger.

Her eyes went to a man standing nearby with the commissar’s pack “Give the man his pack. I needed a new batman.” She looked back to the young commissar as the batman climbed aboard the scout car. “This soldier is a veteran; you can learn a lot from him.”

And then the scout car sped off smothering them in a cloud of dust.

The man only seemed to have a few pouches and a pistol on his belt. “You got a canteen?”

“Yes.” He indicated a small rounded bottle, a litre would have been pushing it’s upper limit.

“That’s not big enough, here I always have a spare.” Harry unslung the square three litre bottle he kept slung over his sholder, and tossed threw it to the boy.

“Well Commissar I guess if you’re attached, it may be a good idea to drop by the command post. Platoon command is up that hill, where those troopers are coming from.” He worded it carefully and made sure to not let any of the inside rage show.

And with that the black hat went on his way.



Harry stood there and let out a long breathe. His eyes wandered to the soldiers streaming down the hill. There was four soldiers very clearly heading towards his section.

Reinforcements, there was three troopers from the Gauel, who wore drab scarves around their necks, they’d go into battle faces covered so that if it should come to it Mother Ardus would not see them killing their traitorous kin.

The thought sent a chill down Harry’s back as he corrected himself.

The scarves would go up and they’d not be men and women of the Gauel, they’d be Mother Ardus’s cold hand, not the warm bright one that creates and nurtures life, the other that plucks the bad seed and twisted weeds and extinguishes their life to be turned back into the soil.

The last soldier, he caught a flash of a Klomn patch. Unfamiliar name. The man saw Harry’s patch.

“Where are you from?”

“Sebam.” Somehow the answer had been a question of it’s own.

“Same.” The other soldier nodded.

“It’s getting pretty bad. Resurgence is active. They’re trying to keep a lid on it, but there was fighting in Calia, Drovos and Luftis prefectures. In Sebam there has been several murders in Isenwood and Calarrdin that are suspicious.”

“You hear anything about a Dr Juilianne or Katrina Daos?”

“Never heard of Juilianne, did basic with a Katrina Daos.” He didn’t get his hopes up, it was a common enough name. “They’re getting ready on Klomn, they reckon that’s where the next strike will fall. Also got some mail here.”


The first item was for him. Letter from one Sigmund Luis.

He opened it with a flick of his dagger and read it. His father talked rather plainly about a dinner party he was having with friends, that his mother was enjoying the seasonal weather, and had taken to wearing her new flower dress. That her mother was coming to visit. His father finished that he had finally decided to have a shave because he decided the beard did make him look a tad ridiculous. Father even mentioned ‘trouble’ and ‘the war’ a few times, quite vaguely as to appease the censors.

There was red flags left everywhere there for him, but that wasn’t unusual.

For one Alice Luis was from Kreig, she was vat-bred, she didn’t have a mother and least of all a flower dress. She had never worn a dress, and he couldn’t even imagine her in one. Her regiment had been one of many to be ‘retired’ to the Commonwealth, in an attempt to further entrench imperial culture, with varying degrees of success.

Besides Sigmund Luis only had one reason to shave that beard and that was to wear his combat mask. And that meant trouble even before Harry deciphered his father’s message.

The old bastard never trusted anyone with his mail, least of all the military and if he wanted to tell his son somethings, well he would.


Insurgent activity, Resurgence and Bright Dawn. Resurgence was large and distributed evenly across the Commonwealth it was mainly made up of retired imperial troops and members of the ecclesiarchy who believed, despite the view of the inquisition, that the people of the Commonwealth to be heretical, although rumour was that more than a few of their members had been found to have the ruinous mark tattooed on their person.
Sergeant Harry personally wouldn’t believe such rumours and just put it down to suspicion of these outsiders if he had not personally inspected the bodies of three former imperial guardsmen, marked with the eight pointed star.

Bright Dawn, hadn’t heard that one in a while, thought it had been rooted out. Like a stain it had stayed on even after the hive fleet it had worshipped had been annihilated, melted down and used to re-terraform the Ardus system and biosphereically enhance half the worlds of the Commonwealth.

Girl he went to school with joined Bright Dawn. Tara de Valdros. Most beautiful girl he’d ever met, why she’d decided to go and join a cult of xenophiles was beyond him. But she was dead, killed in a government raid, now and it filled his heart with a sad satisfaction.

Harry checked over his rifle to re-settle his thoughts, it had more than a few scratches on it from the crash. He’d kept them polished to keep the rust at bay if only for something to occupy his thoughts.
Klomn was in the line of fire. From within or out it didn’t matter. Juilianne had Drakey and the KSR 83 he kept buried in the back yard but, Harry was genuinely worried. Partly because the three soldiers marked with the sigil of chaos whose dead bodies he’d inspected had not been in that state before they attacked Drakey and himself.


Harry took time to pen two letters.

The first he addressed to his landlord. Sir Haerin Vastoral, Harry swore that he’d be the knight’s sworn man, should he please, after his current commitments with the legion were done. Another twelve standard months. In return for the usual protections, which would include an obligation for the security of the permanent residence of his dwelling. Juilianne and Drakey. Not something Sir Haerin was necessarily honour bound to keep to but it was better than nothing.

Besides Vastoral had tried to recruit him before.

The second letter he penned to Juilianne.


   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Just a short one
Hero: Ardus Starport Mantle Hive, Ardus
Spoiler:
The last thing I could remember was the triggers of that heavy machinegun bucking in my hand and the flashing of its angry muzzle in front of me. I remembered the rocket fire and the shells landing nearby. The red tracers and las-bolts arching towards me, so close it looked like you could reach out and catch them. I couldn’t feel anything of my body, there was no pain and I wondered if I was dead.

But the world seemed to be filled with a buzzing noise.
I remembered the old man Hark was fighting nearby to me. A bolt of terror ran through me as I saw that twisted sour face. I knew I could not relax here. I had to fight. Even if I was dead, I told myself, I would fight.

My eyes opened slowly. Reluctant to see what horror my planet had become. There was thick concrete overhead and lights. Didn’t seem like an after world realm, it was incredibly mundane.

Didn’t look like a realm anything short of a human would inhabit.

“Am I dead?” I heard myself ask. Whether the noise was made outside my head I couldn’t tell. I strained against the searing pain in my stomach to sit up. I remembered being burnt through the abdomen by laser fire.

“Good.” That low growl surely wasn’t my voice. I turned to see a black coated figure walking quickly away from me. I noticed the rows and rows of injured around me filling the cavernous room. The odd figure flitted among them.

I bunched my fists and felt agony in my left hand. I glanced down and saw the missing fingers.

“By the Emperor’s hairy…” The words came naturally enough to my tongue it was not a curse I’d ever considered saying a month ago. Maybe I really was becoming a soldier.

“Sarge?” I saw Skink was lying next to me. Bandaged over his eyes, bandaged over his arms.

“Yes Skink?” I replied.

“Can you help me get up?” I let out an exasperated sigh, or something filled with pain and exertion, that was masked as one as I swung my legs off the stretcher and struggled to them.

Where the las struck was burning hot in my right leg but the muscle was intact enough to work through the pain. I gripped Skink by his absurdly thin torso with one and a half sets of pudgy fingers and heaved him up.

I could see the nurse, see her surprise as she came runing down the isle of injured men and women. I know less than half of them are asleep, I know some are surprised as well.

I could not hear what she was saying but I knew when she stopped. I knew an instant before she called the guards.

I reached out to stop her but thought better and stopped myself.

“Sarge?” Skink asked, I could tell he was afraid even before he spoke.

“Yes skink?”

“I’m floating Sarge.” He replied.

I reached up and felt the bandages over my own eyes. I stood there in disbelief for long, long moments. I felt a deep sickness in the pit of my stomach proceeded by the sound of boots hammering on the tiled floor.

   
Made in de
Boom! Leman Russ Commander






That left some chills... makes some appetite for things to come.

~6550 build and painted
819 build and painted
830 
   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Mail: Fort Brenna, temporary fortification guarding the approach to the Dia' Lavell foothills and the Kineath Pass, Western extremity of the great thorny desert.
Spoiler:
Generally the mail arriving was something to look forwards to but this time it had Harry’s stomach dry and his bowls ready. Harry sat on the bench. He was under canvas, light rain had set in turning the desert into a thin cloying mud. The rest of the section was sitting down. Everyone got something so that was nice. Or would have been otherwise.

He’d received two letters faster than he’d expected. The last, well when it came he expected the worst. He cut the first envelope open with his dagger.
And pulled out the contents. He read them carefully. Harry had always been proud of being free. Harry owned what would fit in his Galen. There wasn’t anything tying him down, he’d never been in debt.

In the length of a passage no more four lines his future freedoms were gone. He’d be a sworn soldier of Sir Haerin Vasterol after he finished in the legion. It was a different turn in life. But he’d not be doing this if he could think of a better option.

He pulled a second note from the envelope.
I am writing to tell you I have redirected your mail addressed Juiliane Daos has been re-directed as it is my understanding that she has volunteered and is serving in the medical facilities on the Kai orbital defence platforms….
Harry had to read that twice. He swore aloud. Juiliane was outside Vasterol’s protection no matter how strong his legal relationship with Juiliane. I’ve been done over. It didn’t bode well for the letter he’d sent Juiliane…

Harry glanced up from his own problems. A convoy of cargo trucks were pulling up. More soldiers. The company would be at full strength soon.

The Regiment was receiving more equipment and reinforcments every day. The Askaris and loyalist militia units had more or less taken over frontline patrol and security duties. Finally the mechanised platoons were receiving new vehicles and now an additional armoured regiment had been sent from Jai’ladeim, the closest city through the mountains.
It was a bit more than RNR. They were moving up the line again. He could feel it in his bones. They were in a prime position to threaten the enemy line of supply through the Gauel Valley.
Cut the enemy approach to Ardus Hives by starving them. Or stall it at least.

“Hey!” He turned to see one of the newly arrived soldiers, mud splashed up their camos from jumping out of the back of a truck.
It took a second look, before he recognised Katrina Daos standing before him wearing body a plate, pack and rifle bundled over her shoulders. There was also that something in her eye. Somehow he wasn’t shocked. Soldiers from Sebam would be well climatized and well, it was a pretty boring city.

“What are you doing here?” It was a stupid question.
“Same as you.” Katrina replied. “When are you going to marry my sister?” About half a platoon stopped what they were doing.
Someone whistled.
Harry stood there. Katrina had asked him that same question countless times in the ten years he’d lived with Juiliane, but suddenly it did not sound like a joke anymore. Not after the letter he’d sent.

“It’s good to see you. Any news from home?” Harry almost had to shout over noise.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you before. They attacked your parents farm.”

The tent went from whistles to deathly silence in a moment. You could hear the scrape of Specialist Stryn’s knife carving a winged skull into the wooden table top, after a moment it too desisted.
“Resurgence?” Harry asked. He had a bad feeling about her tone.
“I think so.” She replied. “I talked to the Kasrkin. He was there, shot up pretty bad. Your parents went down fighting.”

It hit him like a hammer, that sense of not really being there. Like the world was falling away underneath him.
Harry nodded and tears came to his eyes. About the worst news he could expect. It was the only news he knew he could expect and deep within himself he knew this day would eventually come.
Must have been bad if the Kasrkin was there. He felt a of bitter pride, hadn’t made it easy for the bastards.

“We arrived too late. I’m sorry Harry.” She explained. Now she had a whole tent’s interest.
“Did you catch them?”
“We shot every last one of them.”
That made a little part of him feel fulfilled at least.

Katrina moved to give him a hug. She stopped herself. Because they weren’t at home, they were both soldiers now and they were at war.
Aarri and Kamiil, the two troopers from the Gauel valley in his section were up in the blink of an eye.

It felt for a moment that his legs might give way but they had him. “We’ve got you sarge.”
Aarri and Kamiil both hugged him.

“This is absurd.” Harry said, self consciously aware that Aarri had lost his home and entire family, and that Kamiil had lost her home and her husband, and till hadn’t heard anything about her children. He became aware that more soldiers from around Ardus were getting to their feet.

He could feel them putting their hands on his shoulders, on his neck.
Harry could sense Commissar Yarvov watching on. He felt absurd, he felt he was meant to be the tough veteran sergeant. “It’s okay sergeant.” Someone said.
Harry let himself relax. He felt tears in his eyes again. He felt tears for his parents, and he felt tears for the young men and women around him who’d lost so much more, whose home world was under siege, and who were here for him.

A jeep pulled up outside the tent.
Harry’s eyes went to it. A big man in a dark green flack coat had already vaulted from the vehicle and was running into the tent. A pair of Drak hounds at his heels. The sight of a Karsk Grenadier Colonel was enough to scatter the riflemen. The big man went straight to Harry.

Harry saluted the man.
“I’m Maxim. I’m your uncle Harry.” The man threw a salute back but didn’t even introduce his rank. That was the importance of family on Karsk.
“I wanted to talk to you when my men captured you. But I was busy.” No doubt.
Maxim stepped in and gave him a colossal bear hug. “We must be good steel sergeant. Not brittle. Good steel flexes, bad steel builds stress and shatters.”

Harry knew what he was saying.

“Sigmund was as good a man anyone could wish for a brother. And he died like a true grenadier. A true son of Karsk.” Maxim said in a bitter sweet tone.
The grenadier released him and stepped back. “I believe this is your Drak hound as well. I cleared him with your CO. One of your Klomn nobles transferred him.” Harry looked down to see Drakey standing there.

Nothing made sense anymore, anything could have happened to him and he’d accept it. He kneeled and gave Drakey a scratch. Drakey leaned into him and a forked tongue touched his face. The chimerid even wagged it’s tail, something Drakey had learnt from the family dog.
Harry stood up again.
“I must be off.” Maxim stepped back, Harry saluted him and then the grenadier was out in the rain moving quickly towards the jeep.

Harry stood there in shock. Everything hadn’t caught up with him. There was a sense that it might have to take a while to catch up with him.

Katrina stepped back in front of him. “Come on then, my turn now.” It at least made him smile.

He hugged her because they’d been friends for years. Because their home would be the next frontline and the fractures were already showing. Because they both knew before a serious attack on the Ardus city hives could begin the Kai platforms, where Juilianne was stationed, would have to be destroyed, and during that battle evacuation had always proved to be very dangerous.

“I’m worried about her.” He said after a long while. It felt a weight off his shoulders admitting that.
“Of course you are.” She replied.

Harry smiled, because he felt at least a little bit more normal. He still had the feeling he was in some kind of mad dream, but it was just that little bit less mad.

“You’d better find your section private.” He said after a little while.
“Sergeant.” She replied with a nod.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Yarvov’s attention still had not left him. That was never a good sign.
Harry sat back down and someone patted him on the shoulder. Harry had the niggling thought he’d have to get them to do some serious PT or find something labourious for them to do before they forgot he was a right bastard.

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2020/04/18 11:53:05


   
Made in gb
Liberated Grot Land Raida






Northern Ireland

Turns out there's a bit of humanity left in the grimdark universe afterall.

   
Made in de
Boom! Leman Russ Commander






As usual nice piece of story and as theCrowe said: good to read some humanity in all the grimdark. I also like that these story parts outside of actual fighting add a lot of life to the characters and scenario you are painting.

And I pity the poor souls that attacked THAT farm expecting some helpless farmers and meeting Harries parents (his mother was a Krieger, wasn't she?)

~6550 build and painted
819 build and painted
830 
   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Thanks Crowe, I wanted the sense that tragedies come in all sizes, and humans are humans no matter how bad the situation.

Too true Pyro his mother was a Kreiger, his dad a Karsk Grenadier. So one would expect the farm was quite defensible, and pretty heavily armed!

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2020/04/20 10:19:36


   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







The Killing field: de'Kanin factory complex 6 Kilometres West of Cambrian Hive Ardus City, Ardus
Spoiler:
Sir Haerin Vasterol disconnected himself from the neural harness, his crew team re-stocked Roche’s weapons and carried out field repairs. He thought of war. His experience had previously been limited, and he’d lost an arm. Torn away by a daemonic creature, during an adventure in the service of an inquisitor.

One moment his arm was there, the next it was on the ground next to him. The pain and realisation, it took a long time to process that. If he had to pick a word to describe it he’d have picked violating. To have part of one’s self taken away, shorn from one’s body. It’d been an instantaneous reaction to put his plasma gun to the thing’s face and turn it to slag, and what seemed like a lifetime later he still had to glance down to remind himself his left arm was metal and not flesh. He didn’t wear a sleeve on that side, unlike many others.

Sir Haerin glanced down and clenched the metal fingers together. He’d had it re-calibrated ahead of this venture. It was calibrated only to stop it from damaging itself now, it wasn’t calibrated to the strength of his other arm. Part of him wondered how strong it was.

The voice of his chief technician came through the headset. “Re-calibrating Roche’s blade. Sir. It should blink out before catastrophic power drain. No permanent damage to power network.”
Sir Haerin didn’t have to be told that, he’d felt the power returning to the armiger. But it was good nonetheless.

Shells began falling nearby. The enemy were starting a bombardment. But the de Kanin family had invested in hardened underground hangers in which to operate from should the need arise. The factory was their land and if they wanted to add defensive infrastructure for the city’s benefit no-one on Ardus was going to argue.

Sir Haerin patched himself into the neural harness.
“All systems are optimal.”
Soon the coilgun was restocked.

It was time to fight again. He padded back up the ramp and out of the subterranean bunker.
He took up his concealed location behind some big coolant tanks. They’d been filled with water so they’d stop a shell. His men at arms deployed the chameleonic netting over him and then he slowly eased Roche into a firing position.
Shells were falling around the factory. Mainly concerntrated on the trench line three hundred metres to his frontage. The shells stopped after a short while and he saw a small bump. To be more correct Rohe saw it and tagged it.
Sir Haerin magnified the opical feed. The shape was unlistakeable. The silhouette of a leman russ turret. The vehicle was in a hull down position below a gentle rise around fifteen hundred metres away.
Sir Haerin checked the crosswind indicators. Adjusted his aim. The coilgun punched a sabot down range. The leman russ’s cannons opened up, bright flashes that flashed on and off for a few moments.

He saw the exterminator stop firing and he saw steel shards fly out from the back of the turret then it sparked like a fire cracker.
The ground ahead of him blew upward as a forty milimeter cannon round hit it. A few rounds impacted closer to the trench. The whole engagement took around a second or two.

There was a pack of three chimeras heading for the trench line. Something big hit the dirt near the trenches. Sir Haerin scanned till he saw the culprit. A standard russ, it fired it’s coaxle and pintle heavy machineguns to suppress the trench.

The chimeras were putting a hail of gunfire on the trench. He wondered for a moment if they’d just roll over the PDF lines then deploy their infantry. To storm the trench.
The next coilgun round loaded.

A hail of auto-cannon fire stuck the first chimera and set it alight. Lupus. She’d be re-positioning.
He raised the coilgun again, it had little discharge, that was why he liked it. He put the sight on the second russ. It was little over seventeen hundred. The coilgun discharged. The vehicle’s battle cannon fired.
A shell hit between him and the russ, when the dust and smoke cleared he saw the russ was intact. It moved forwards and opened fire with sponson mounted heavy bolters. The next sabot loaded and he aimed for the hull of the vehicle this time. A missile struck the vehicle and the crew bailed.

Sir Haerin tuned the weapon on the closest chimera. He fired and he knew instantly the round had punched straight through the vehicle. It kept coming and it kept firing.
The vehicle got hit by a rocket and stopped dead. The crew and infantry bailed to be met my machine gun fire.

Something big hit the tank in front of him and water splashed everywhere. The metal gave way and the tank half collapsed in on itself. Be spotted the perpetrator, another russ, to his ten o’clock. It hadn’t moved forwards.
He could see a boulbous muzzlebrake facing him down. High velocity, large calibre. Something that would kill an unshielded knight in a single shot, let alone his little armiger.
Sir Haerin aimed just below the thing’s side mounted targeter then he fired. The vehicle as if knowing it was under fire swivelled and backed up.

More shells fell. Rockets from the de’Kanin artillery flew back in response.
Two enemy fighters came screaming over low, but a PDF hydra bracketed the first one with flack blasts and it caught fire and spiralled into the cedar forest.
He didn’t see the fate of the second, because the shells had stopped and he could see chimeras spilling out onto the plain again.
And behind them he could see russes. Then the gold and white carapaces of the enemy knight family.
Thirteen chaos knights, perhaps twice that armigers.
Artillery rounds started falling among the enemy. He scanned the enemy lines. The armigers were trotting to the front ranks.

He had the enemy strategy in a moment. The armigers, being unnaturally resilient, but also numerous would draw fire, the mechanised infantry would overwhelm the trenches. The russes would, sit back and provide heavy fire support to the armigers, chimeras and troops.
And the knights would wait till the de’Kanin knights were forced to show themselves before they committed themselves to the attack.
The enemy moved closer, putting heavy weight of fire on the trenchline. The enemy chimeras were about at the trench without so much as a rifle shot in reply.
“Ah, sir, lady de’ Kanin has taken to the field.” His captain informed him over the coms.
“Where?”
“Behind us. Sir.” Sir Haerin found the vanquisher tank and had it in his sights. He was ready to put a round on it, but nothing stirred. It seemed no-one wanted to offer the enemy a target.
“All units hold fire.” Lady Alishia commanded.
Sir Haerin had heard the salvo of rockets being launched. But they sounded different, they weren’t soaring off towards the rear enemy lines or their artillery battery.
The rockets struck ahead of the trench. Instead of exploding when they slammed into the earth there came thick clouds of smoke.
More rockets rained down all along the enemy line.
“All lances charge.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Roche sprinted from cover. He saw the trench fast approaching, the troops had taken up firing positions and were cheering. Dismounted knights and men at arms were climbing over the parapet.
He leapt the trench with a stride, through his targeter he saw Lupus to his right, and another armiger, painted the black and green of the Graie family that was armed with a themal lance and a power mace to his left.
Sir Haerin’s stomach turned. He didn’t quite know what to expect. The first chimera skidded from the smoke ahead of him. Roche had it sighted and he fired off the melta at it.
There was a blast from inside driver’s position which blew the hatch off the front and soldiers poured from the rear. They were in Roche’s path so he just ran through them.
Then he was in the world of smoke.
A chimera almost collided with him but he danced aside and sliced through the turret with the power sword.
Sir Haerin turned to deal with the enemy infantry section.
“Don’t worry sir. We’ve got them.”

He heard Lupus’s assault cannon fire a short burst and a short stream of tracer rounds disappeared into the smoke.
Roche tagged something moving towards him. Cannon fire glanced from his carapace he fired back at the muzzle blast with the coilgun.
An enemy armiger ran from the smoke. It raised a chainmaul, Roche turned and cut straight through the weapon. Sir Haerin redirected the blade and brought it through the enemy machine’s legs. It moved to raise it’s plasma cannon as it fell but his blade caught that and sliced clean through the weapon.
Before it hit the ground he was turning Roche to face another. It came in fast with a power spear. But the weapon was struck and broken by the Graie armiger’s mace. Roche turned and fired a sabot through the enemy machine’s left leg joint and it tumbled.

The Graie armiger rained blows on the downed machine.
To his right Lupus was battling another enemy armiger.
A chimera came from the fog, it seemed disorientated as it was driving across the battle line and not towards the factory complex. Three soldiers fired from the back of the vehicle.
Sir Haerin fired the melta gun at it and the chimera caught fire. More enemy armigers appeared from the smoke. One raised a conqueror cannon and fired. The shell clipped Roche’s carapace. Roche took some auto cannon hits from another enemy armiger, then they charged.

The coilgun roared and pierced the first enemy armiger, to no apparent effect.
Lupus and the Graie armiger were engaged in close combat with the enemy. An enemy raised a power hammer and Sir Haerin deflected it, but another armiger, the one armed with a chainsword struck Roche. The blow hit Roche’s left pauldron.
Sir Haerin kept them at bay with the power sword. The armiger with the chainsword didn’t want to risk having it’s weapon cut away, and was using it’s reach to try and strike at Roche’s legs while he was pre-occupied with the second armiger, the one with the power hammer.
As Sir Haerin held the enemy at bay Roche’s sharp senses picked up more objects moving in the smoke. More armigers. The armiger with the sword made a bold strike on the side of Roche’s leg and Sir Haerin reversed his sword and sliced through it’s weapon.
The enemy armiger’s weapon spat it’s chain and Roche danced back from a hammer blow. The enemy armiger raised it’s ranged weapon. It’s carapace exploded. One moment it was there, the next it was a fireball.
Sir Haerin didn’t hesitate. He didn’t have to push Roche at all, they lunged as one and finished the stricken enemy mech.
Another enemy mech charged from the smoke and it’s carapace exploded.
“Keep moving forwards my friends.”

An enemy armiger came running from the smoke with a power sword raised, Sir Haerin fired a blast of melta at the creature, turning it’s melee arm to slag. He danced to the side, keeping on the injured flank, then he cut through it’s leg. The creature fell to the ground and dismounted knights and men at arms swarmed over it with power weapons.
A leman russ came speeding through the smoke, the melta was cooling and the coilgun hadn’t reloaded again. He moved to assault it.
One of his men at arms jetted to the moving vehicle’s turret with his hellgun. He attached a magnetic mine to the top of the vehicle’s hull and jetted away without the crew realising.
An enemy knight came charging past through the smoke.

“Lance, stand with me.” Lady Alishia De Kanin said. There was the sound of colossal powerfields clashing and it came with a flash of lightning that could be seen through the smoke.

Sir Haerin ran towards that flash, he came upon the two collosal mechs locked in combat.
His job was as fast as it was easy. He hamstrung the enemy mech, power sword cutting through it’s knee joints. The enemy machine toppled and de Kanin finished the machine.

They moved together, hunting the smoke as a pack. More rockets screamed down around them. They killed another two knights and Lupus destroyed a leman russ that had thrown its track. Then there was nothing. The smoke was seemingly suddenly empty of enemies.
It was an odd sensation, both Sir Haerin and Roche were ready for the next enemy. Ready for the next confrontation, and to be robbed of it.

“All lances withdraw to the factory.” De Kanin commanded.
Sir Haerin checked his nav system and moved back to the factory. It took longer than he’d expected to get back to the trench line.
He took up a firing position. The smoke was beginning to clear on the killing field.

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2020/04/20 11:49:57


   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Big un here, I know how you like'em.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2020/04/20 11:36:38


   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







The Fire: Plains above Gauel Valley Mouth
Spoiler:
Lieutenant Langthorn watched it unfold. One moment it had been a stalling disaster, the next the onus was firmly placed in the hands of the Commonwealth forces.
Burning and splintered tree trunks cracked underneath Scourge’s tracks as it passed a burning steel hulk. Three heavy bolters and eight heavy machineguns held down trenches above them. It was a lot of suppressive fire for only a six hundred metre frontage. Leutenant Langthorn watched as Xenophon, Staff sergeant Luia’s tank surged towards the enemy trenches. She stopped three hundred metres short, but didn’t take any AT fire from the trench. All five heavy tanks advanced to three hundred metres short of the trench line, their sponson weapons raking the enemy positions with bursts of heavy machinegun fire kept their heads down

If the enemy had seen that Xenophon wasn’t firing it’s hull weapon it was too late before they realised why. A gout of jellied promethium sprayed over the trench line.
Anyone who rose to escape the horror were gunned down by either the tanks or the vengeful PDF troopers.
Slowly the soldiers in the trenches and fox holes furthest from Xenophon began firing, but by then it was too little too late. The tanks ceased fire and deployed smoke. The Ardus PDF overwhelmed the enemy positions.

Langthorn climbed down from her hatch. The world was thick with gun smoke, and the smell of burnt powder.
She noticed the sponson gunner making his weapon safe, his wounds were bandaged but there had been a lot of blood from the wound.
He turned and gave her a pained grin.
“Bleedin’s stopped, I can still fight sir.”

She looked at the blood soaked through his uniform around the wound. She wanted to tell the young private that this was his ticket from the field. She heard herself saying instead. “Pleased to hear it trooper.”
Langthorn put a hand to her headset so she could hear through the clinking of the cooling machinegun barrels, the clanking and banging of the loaders re-stocking the turret with shells.
Syracuse report.”

“Injured are being offloaded onto a stretcher carrier. Managed to repair the oil leak was hydraulic drive so we’ll have to take it slow.” She didn’t know what to say, one of her soldiers were dead and another two injured in that tank.
She found herself thinking if they’d put Terrence on the stretcher carrier with the injured, or if they’d just drop him out of a hatch.
“Agate 01 this is Mountain 04, my troop will take defensive positions on the hill, your tanks are to act as a resur...”

“All callsigns this is Falchion 01” Company command, “Enemy are...” There came a crescendo of blasts like a mobile battery as opening up, loaders going full tilt. For a moment she thought the blasts sounded too heavy to be a cockatrice’s one-fifty howitzer and not dull enough to be medusa’s two-o-three mortar, and then she realised the shells were incoming. Company command was under an intense barrage.
A smooth voice came over the vox net. “Agate 01. This is Willow-04 . Enemy medium tanks and IFVs have gotten around the right hand flank. Range one kilometre. I require assistance.”

She ordered the driver and loader into action before she even got back to her station.
Syracuse, engage enemy amour four o’clock.”
Staff sergeant Luia’s voice came over the net. “Kill’em Agate.”
Almost at those words she could almost feel Scourge spurred into action. The tank turned a hundred and ten degrees quickly.

“Enemy tank in my sights.” “Fire.” For a moment she was left thinking that this wasn’t how it worked, she was meant to designate the targets.
Langthorn looked through her binoculars but the world was a jumping bouncing mess as they zigged and zagged towards the enemy. ”Slow down damn it.” There came a flash of light from the trees ahead of them, she smelt burnt earth, and she could see the afterglow in the light tubes of the enemy tank’s laser cannons.

“Carnodon nine hundred, in the trees.” Scourge slewed to a halt and the one-fifty roared. The enemy tank stopped to return fire as the shell exploded in the trees past it. A missile struck it on the front and it exploded.
A chimera broke the tree line firing an auto cannon. “Chimera nine-fifty.” She looked through her binoculas. A hail of rounds hit the front of the vehicle, one penetrated the driver’s hatch and the vehicle sped up and crashed nose down into a dry canal.

A few seconds later a one-fifty HEAT round turned the stricken IFV it to a burning ruin.
Scourge was moving fast, chewing up the distance, closing with the foe. “Enemy tank one twenty. Ten O’clock.”
Langthorn spotted a missile streaking out of the trees towards them, a moment later there was a bang and the tank shook. But Scourge rumbled onwards.

They were close now, Langthorn caught sight of movement in the trees enemy infantry moving, she readied the heavy machinegun heart pounding like a drum. An instant later the side guns and heavy bolters opened up, mass reactive bolts tore down the smaller trees.
She ducked as las bolts started to hiss at the steel of the turret. The world was filled with the smell of burnt ozone and scorched steel, she glanced over her shoulder to see Syracuse barely keeping up, three hundred metres to the left and four hundred behind.

Syracuse took another hit, but it continued. Langthorturned her machinegun on the tree line and opened up.
“Fire high exsplosive fragmentation, dial it to airburst above the tree line. Eight hundred.” Tracer fire and reactvie bolts strafed the woodline.
An she spotted a distictive shape in the woodline.
Syracuse, Carndon nine hundred, to your eleven o’clock.” The enemy tank opened fire towards Willow-01’s scout car with twin auto cannons. It was directing it’s machinegun fire on the retreating PDF troops.
Scourge fired and a dark cloud lingered over the tree line for a few moments.

“Agate -01 this is Mountain-01 move back six hundred metres and take up firing positions.”
The enemy carnodon was struck and even at that distance she could see the hatches being thrown open. She directed fire on the opening hatches with the heavy machinegun.
“Syracuse, retreat six hundred to the rear then take up a firing position.”
“Sir the tow vehicle is down, we’re stranded out here.” Silthere’s commander said through the vox.
“Copy that Mountain -01?”
“Confirmed, will seek authorisation.” There was a brief pause. “Agate -01 see if you can tow Agate -03 from the field.” “Agate -02 will have to wait for repairs.”
“Driver take us back three hundred.”
They crossed the open field at speed, she navigated around some of the bigger shell holes.
“This is Willow-01. Be advised enemy tanks moving to the East of the hill.” “Confirmed three, enemy Russ tanks.”
“Enemy tank nine hundred. Two o’clock in the open.”

The one fifty roared. The round miss and the enemy tank fired back, but the shot was hurried, panicked.
Syracuse hit the vehicle and the crew bailed out. Mountain 01 and 03 fired and a second Russ brewed up.
Scourge backed up, she instructed the driver into position to tow Silthere. Two of the hull gunners readied the cables to tow Silthere and she scanned for targets. There was a frightening amount of dust being churned up in the distance.

There came a volley of cannon rounds from the hill ahead of them, the hill they’d captured minutes ago. She counted at least twelve muzzle blasts. Silthere shrugged off a hit but the trooper connecting the cable on that side went down.
Langthorn jumped from the hatch, landed on the hull then slid down and landed on the ground. Not something she’d ever considered doing but she hit the ground and running. A mortar bomb went off somewhere nearby and she couldn’t hear anything aside from the ringing in her ears.

Langthorn grabbed the heavy duty cable and picked it up, usually it’d be an effort but she was running on adrenaline. She ran the cable to Silthere and loped and locked it on the tow shackle. She ran back, hefted her trooper onto her shoulders and ran for Scourge’s side hatch.

Someone opened it and a pair of hands helped her load the trooper aboard. A burst of bullets struck the side of the vehicle close enough for her to feel the warm metal striking her face.
Her world went black after that and she found the open hatch with her hands, and pulled herself up a pair of hands had her webbing and pulled her inside as a burst of gunfire struck the side of the vehicle.

She could feel Scourge moving. She sat there in the bowls of her warmachine. She could not hear or see anything, but merely feel the machine grinding backwards under the strain of it’s stricken comrade. She was afraid, the fear had never left her, but at least she’d at least been able to focus on the task at hand.

Langthorn brought her knees to her chest. Something big hit the tank and she felt the jolt of it on the armour Scourge shake with the blow but it kept moving. Somewhere inside the shivering nervous wreck part of her was thankful that she was born to have faith in metal shells. Someone put an arm around her.

She felt something splash on her, it was cold like water and not hot like blood. A moment later a moist cloth touched her face. She could just about hear ringing in her ears. The cloth snagged in some places of her face. The cloth moved around her eyes and she could feel it pulling at her eyelids. Her left eye came open, she saw the bloody cloth, behind it the auxillary gunner was grimacing, she said something Langthorn couldn’t hear over the ringing.

The cloth went over towards the other eye, it came in tenderly. Langthorn could feel it snag and pull something. The pain was incredible like a white pain that overrode everything. At once she could feel her body contorting from it, while at the same time there was nothing else in the world but the agony.


   
Made in de
Boom! Leman Russ Commander






Very intense story, thanks for sharing. I really like how you include smells and temperature in your stories in addition to what the characters see and hear. That makes the situations even more vivid. Something I will definitly try next time I write something.

The back and forth of radio calls was also pretty cool as it illustrated the chaos and urgency on the battlefield. Now I'm hyped to find out how that battle turned out.

~6550 build and painted
819 build and painted
830 
   
Made in gb
Liberated Grot Land Raida






Northern Ireland

Just read de'Kanin factory complex. It's crazy how almost insignificant the individual soldiers are on the battlefield when it goes to mech level. It's like reading Battletech fiction. (Which I love)

Great job. I'll get reading the next one soon.

   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Thanks guys, I have a lot of fun writing these, glad you enjoy them too. Getting a bit better at editing my own writing, so that's a bonus!

   
Made in gb
Liberated Grot Land Raida






Northern Ireland

Great read on the tank story. You get a good feel for the limited vision and the experience of grinding forward in such a powerful machine yet still being vulnerable in the thick of the fighting. The split second changing circumstances and plans. The moments of calm collecting and the mad sprints. Loved the various tank names, Very nice indeed.

My only criticism is that I don't know what types of tanks I'm supposed to be picturing. Big heavy ones I guess. I'd like to briefly meet the crew and hear the loadout. Just to get an idea of what Scourge is bringing to the fight.

   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Sorry, Crowe, it's a continuation of a previous story, The heavy tanks in question are Malcadors, there's a bit of forgeworld driving around in this one...

   
Made in gb
Liberated Grot Land Raida






Northern Ireland

Oh right. Ok thanks. I didnt remember that though I'm sure I read the previous story. I must be getting older.

   
Made in gb
Thunderhawk Pilot Dropping From Orbit





Reading away slowly at each individual story so as to give them my full attention. But love how each one adds to the whole
Just finished reading the fist page and thought I'd drop a comment before reading the rest. And have to say, I like reading about the common soldiers the best. Though for some reason I find myself rushing through the sir haerin parts. Which at the moment am putting down to wanting to the grunts.(what can I say, I'm a low born bar stool) So will reread it all again to see if I can find constructive criticism to see what the snag is for me .

Come into my web, said the spider to the fly.
Come rest your wings, and let us talk eye to eye.
For I am a spider, and you are the fly. Now that you are here, let us sit, and say hi.
But I have have no morsel to share, nor anything to eat. But wait, what is that stickiness upon your feet.
Ah now I have you, now I can eat. Now I can enjoy you, or store you as meat.
For I am the spider, and you are the fly. How else could it have gone, between one such as you, and one such as I.
 
   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Cheers themanwiththeplan looking forwards to hearing it.

   
Made in gb
Thunderhawk Pilot Dropping From Orbit





My favourite parts are definitely the normal soldier stories. With Harry's continued story rather interesting with it's hints of his back story and more nearer arrivals in the present. But that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the other segments, like Sir Haerin. I found it nicely written and detailed with the explanation of armament for friend and foe alike. But at times it left the sentence clunky, and distracted from the whole. Same as your comma marks at times. (Guilty as charged here too)
Though none of it can deny that this is an enjoyable story to read. Be they loyalist or traitor.

Come into my web, said the spider to the fly.
Come rest your wings, and let us talk eye to eye.
For I am a spider, and you are the fly. Now that you are here, let us sit, and say hi.
But I have have no morsel to share, nor anything to eat. But wait, what is that stickiness upon your feet.
Ah now I have you, now I can eat. Now I can enjoy you, or store you as meat.
For I am the spider, and you are the fly. How else could it have gone, between one such as you, and one such as I.
 
   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Out of the Pan: Plains above the Gauel River Mouth
Spoiler:
The first thing Lieutenant Langthorn could sense when she came too was the uncomfortable feeling of being exposed. .
Langthorn groaned in pain as the smaller vehicle jostled across the rough ground.
“What do you think?”
“If we get to the dressing station it’ll be alright, provided it doesn’t start bleeding again.”
She was on a stretcher carrier. The realisation burned into her mind. It felt deeply wrong. It felt like someone had taken away her home. She tried to pull herself up.
“It’s alright Lieutenant.” A hand firly held her down.
“How much did you stuff in there?” She heard the medic’s voice.
“Three bandages. About everything I had on me.” A second replied.
Langthorn didn’t know what they were taking about she’d only the single dressing.
“I need…”
“I need to get back to my tank.” The comment went ignored or unheard.
They jostled over another rough piece of ground.
Silthere under tow and Syracuse having trouble, they’d never forgive her for losing a troop of tanks on her first command.
“I said I need to get back to my bloody tank!”
“You’re not going anywhere lieutenant.”
“Oh bloody hell.”
“Crap he’s bleeding again.”
She sat up and tore the dressing from her face. It was the same white hot pain, she felt her body moving of its own accord.
“Stay bloody still lieutenant.”
“Imperator.”
“I don’t have bloody time for this.”
She felt something heavy hit her head.

Lamthorn came round as the vehicle came to a sudden halt.
“What’s wrong with this one?”
“Shrapnel imbedded in a single eye. Kicked up a real fuss about going back and they had to restrain her.”
“Command says they want everyone they can get back out there. You want to go back to the line Lieutenant?”
“Yes sir.”
“We can remove her eye immediately. What’s the supply situation with the mediphene.”
“The truck got hit by a shell, we haven’t enough as it is.”
“You still want to go back lieutenant?”
But as her father had said stubbornness was her strongest suit.
“Yes sir.”
The surgeon grimaced and bit at his bottom lip.
“You two take her in now.”
“Hold her down.” She felt the hands of what must have been the biggest pair of medical orderlies that were at the station. She felt a moment of real fear, but she remembered her home. “I’m sorry lieutenant, this is going to be far from pleasant.”

Tungst wiped the sweat from his eyes as Scourge took another hit. The hull in front of him glowed red for a moment. His head rang.
“Enemy tank. Twelve hundred, three o’clock. Engage.”
Through his periscope he saw Silthere still under tow fire again.
Scourge fired missing the Carnodon.
“Agate 01. This is Mountain 01. You’re almost in line.”
Xenophon and the other tanks were providing covering fire. Even Syracuse was back in line providing covering fire. But Scourge and Slithere were such an easy target.
A shell hit next to them, something big. He felt her lose power for a moment, the engine cutting out with a backfire and when it came back on she couldn’t gain the power she needed.
“Agate 01 you appear not to be moving.”
Tungst gritted his teeth. He was a gunner not a commander, he shouldn’t even be in this seat. He should have been down there were Elias putting crosshairs on things and blowing them up. The emperor knew they’d put Elias on the demolisher cannon for a reason. But someone had to command the vehicle.
They had to uncouple the cables. They had to evacuate the crew of Silthere. The old broken tank would find its end on this field.
“Bring us forwards and deploy smoke. We need to de-couple Silthere.”
“Bring us bloody forwards.”
“She’s not budging sir. Its like she’s stuck in reverse.”
“How many shells do we have?” Tungst shouted.
“We’re down to six. Three smoke, two HEF and a single HESH.”
Not bloody enough. Nowhere near bloody enough with Elias’s marksmanship.
He checked his perescopes and spotted an enemy devildog making cutting swiftly towards their flank.
“Enemy tank eleven o clock, closing fast.”
He saw it’s turret tracking Scourge.”
“Loa…” Even through the perescopes the flash was blindingly bright. There came a blast that filled the compartment with searing heat. It filled his lungs with the smell of burnt steel and his ears with ringing.
Tungst could feel burning in his throat, he feared for a moment he must have inhailed burning hot gas, as his hearing tentatively returned he realised he was screaming at the top of his lungs.
The left side sponson housing had been turned to slag. Luckily the gunner had been seeing to other duties.
“Load HESH. Emperor dammit. Load HESH before he fires again.”
A shell exploded nearby and the devildog scooted for cover.
He checked his perescopes. The enemy were throwing a lot of armour across the plains. He could see more than a dozen smoking tank wrecks but it didn’t seem like they’d let up.
We’ll need to cut the cables then. But how? The cables were colossal, designed to take the strain of a heavy tank.
He thought about just abandoning the vehicle. It wasn’t much use to anyone at this point, and it’d be less use to the enemy once they detonated a demolisher shell inside.
Something moved on the distant hillside. The hillside now encased in smoke and ruined vehicles. The hillside they’d once trundled towards.
Tungst checked it through his field glasses. It was a shape uncertain int the smoke. The hint of a silhouette, something like a russ, but at that distance much bigger.
The smoke wafted aside for a moment and he saw it. Instinctual fear coursed through his veins as he grabbed the radio mike. “Mountain 01 caution enemy…” he saw the flash of a large gun in the distance, “super heav…”
His words were cut off by the impact in front of him as Silthere was almost completely lifted off the ground and dumped again as if by a giant’s hand.
“tank!” Then through the smoke of Silthere’s carcass there came another flash a moment later.
He counted down a second and a half but the shell didn’t impact.
“Agate 01 this is Mountain 01 specialists teams are moving to cut the cables holding you to Silthere. Do you still have eyes on enemy super heavy tank? Can you get an identification?”
He checked where the turret top had appeared. “Negative, it has moved into a turret down position to reload.”
An infantryman ran out to the front of Scourage and blasted the cables holding the two vehicles together with a the stream of a melta-gun.
Scourge finally pulled backwards, free from the wreckage of her sister tank.


   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







Been a while again guys but we're back where we left off with Leutenant Langthorn, and the tanks out on the plains.

   
Made in de
Boom! Leman Russ Commander






Man, you can't leave us hanging in such a cliffhanger

Great piece. I love your tanker stories, they have so much flair and intense atmosphere. And Longthornes eye... that's pretty cruel but also kind of badass.

~6550 build and painted
819 build and painted
830 
   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







The Beginning: de'Kanin factory complex 6 Kilometres West of Cambrian Hive Ardus City, Ardus

Spoiler:
The evening was settling in when Sir Haerin Vastoral watched over the team working on Roche. His power harness was primed and on standby just in case the enemy tried a night attack. The enemy had withdrawn hours before leaving eight knights and twenty armigers ruined on the field.
They’d also left more than a company of mechanised infantry and several tanks.

“Will Roche be ready tonight?” Night was their time. Many of the other knights had gone hunting, his own men at arms were resting up near his makeshift hanger.
“No lord. The you damaged Roche’s power system in combat. We’re doing hat we can but it’ll take hours to run a full diagnostic.” That moment he felt nothing but darkness and Roche fall away completely. That horrible and terrifying realisation that Roche would seemingly rather burn itself out vanquishing a foe than inhibit the energy field of its blade.

“How did it go lord?” He hadn’t seen his crew chief approach.
“Roche is something else.” He relplied, the blue lenses of Roche’s eyes picked up the last rays of sunlight. Was it alive behind those unblinking lenses? It certainly felt like it had been during the fighting.

The weapons technician, he hadn’t even noticed most of entire team was there. “Are you happy with the weapons loadout. How did the the coilgun perform?”
Sir Haerin rubbed his remaining eye with the palm of his hand. He hadn’t realised how tired he was until he sat down. The last thing he’d expected to be faced with was questions from his team, it really shouldn’t have been, it was after all his procedure.

“Elise, bring me some recaff.” He caught sight of his squire, she looked much the same as he was, “Get yourself some too.”
“The coilgun performed well. Charging times were acceptable. I think we’re past the issues with the housing.” Sir Haerin answered.
He answered a few more questions and Elise brought him a steaming cup.

After he answered the questions his team asked he found Elise cleaning her armour.
“Joseph got killed.” She said simply as she scrubed some grit from her breastplate.
Joseph, one of Alison de Pratt’s squires. The two were of around the same age. Sir Haerin regretted too worn out to be able to think of the right thing to say.
“Regrettably these things happen.” Sir Haerin replied.
“Will they come tomorrow?” She asked.
“Our knights sally to engage them now, to waylay them. But yes, the enemy army is vast, even now reinforcements stream from the Druze.”
“The Kai platforms stop them from carrying out landings closer?”
“Essentially yes, but to do so with any efficiency they must take the starport.” He felt a little bit concerned. “Are you ready to fight again tomorrow?”
“My weapon is clean. You can see my armour.” Elise replied.
“That is not what I am asking. This may go on for some months.”
She looked so young, he reminded himself she was no younger than many of the soldiers out on the battle lines tonight. She was lucky to have the reprieve.
“I will do what I must.”
“How is your training with the jump-packs going?”
“Not well, the test set I was using were faulty and are in for repairs.”
“It’d be good to get some rest. You’re dismissed till morning.” Sir Haerin turned to leave.
“Good night to you Sir.” She called after him.
“Good night Elise.” He replied.

Sir Haerin walked out into the darkness of the factory complex. It wasn’t dark to him with the bionic eye although there were some specs that were irritating him. Sir Haerin took the small bottle of lens cleaner from his pocket and gave the bionic eye a light spray. He replaced the bottle and retrieved the small chamois that he kept in the same pocket.
As he polished the small lense with a fingertip he realised something. He could still see across the factory yard. It wasn’t really dark at all.
Sir Haerin looked up to the sky and he saw the flames dropping down towards the bay. He took a long deep shaking breathe.
His heart burnt for one small tragedy amongst all that fire and ruin.
The Kai platforms.

   
Made in au
Lone Wolf Sentinel Pilot







The return: Plains above the Gauel River Mouth
Spoiler:
For the second time that morning they were bombing Scourage up, loading up shells and bag charges from an armoured carrier in the cover of the trees that they had crashed through earlier that morning with mortar bombs landing along the road in the distance. Up above a pair of lightning fighters desperately tried to dogfight a group of three A21 Bazas. Tungst felt drained. He’d lost a tank and crew, and he was just meant to be a gunner.

The net was abuzz staff sergeant Luia would require a resupply soon and another crew and vehicle was enroute for his squadron.

The lieutenant. She had been alright for a voidborn. Young, pretty in a kind of delicate way, still always looking up at the night sky eyes bright with longing. He did not really want to imagine what that spawling had done to her face.
She had been a good commander, better than him that was damned sure, and he was a damned better gunner than Elias. He forced himself to drop the issue. You could not blame your crew for ineptitude. You just had to make do and do your best.
He couldn’t see or smell the sea from here and in a way that was a blessing. Swimming had never been his strong suit, and that basically meant he had always been a disappointment. But this green land covered in trees, grass and even mud, the way the sun hit the mountains in the dawn. It was a damn sight better than the vast blackness or deep blue of the seas under bloody Thryn.

He did not want to think about his kin; whilst the much smaller land forces were absorbing the enemy momentum here and elsewhere, and the voidkin fought to maintain the planet’s orbital defence system the oceankin were still in their transports yet to deploy planetside.

Work as hard as he did he could not take his mind off that terrible noise and the sounds and shakes of the impacts. That terrible moment when Silthere and her crew met their fate.
He saw a light truck leaving the treeline, hadn’t seen when that had arrived.


When the ammunition vehicle trundled off towards Syracuse he sat on the roof of the turret a bit deflated. The Bazas had won that dogfight and long since headed for home.
The emperor be praised the enemy super heavy had seemed to have disappeared. And the thing seemed to have been acting by itself.

“Gunner, to your position check the gun and sights.”
He was shocked to look up and see Lieutenant Yasmy Langthorn. Dried blood still caked the side of her face, some of the skin was stapled together, around her eye was clean but for the white patch that completely obscured her left eye. No it wasn’t a patch that obscured the eye it, he could see where they’d filled the empty socket with mediplast, and in the middle of it he could see a small shallow dimple.

He found he was holding his left hand in front of his eye, as if to feel his own eyeball to make sure it was still there and hand an inkling of how the mediplast filling to the socket had become dimpled.
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Glad to have you back Lieutenant.” He gave his best salute.



Yasmy Langthorn felt comfort fill her as she climbed into her hatch. Where she had felt vulnerable and exposed she was secure. It was every bit her home as three-twelve had once been.
“Agate 07 How far are you out?”
She looked out of the top of the hatch, she could see the new tank, Griffin, crossing a field a kilometer to the rear, and Syracuse was finishing up bombing up.
The radio crackled to life.
“Agate 01 this is Mountain 04, require reinforcement immediately. Enemy are pressing my position.”
She stood up in the hatch and shouted for the crew to mount up and then got onto the net and told Syracuse to form a line. Griffin would just have to catch up.

She saw the still smoking wreck of Silthere ahead of them as they entered the field. Mountain 04 05 and 06 were holding around a farm house ahead, the farm with the nut trees she’d seen earlier.
A bright flash near the farm caught her sight she looked over to see a Prometheus pattern Malcador with he identification number 525, Mountain 05. The vehicle fired it’s main gun and turned its frontal arc towards an unseen threat. She scanned to see the target but the enemy vehicles were obscured by a copse.
“Tungst, ready HEAT and turn to that copse at eleven o’clock.”
She scanned the hillside ahead.
“Driver, take us behind the farmstead.” The course should take them into a position to engage the enemy that were attacking Mountain 05.
Looked to be a squadron of lightly armed Russes or lighter tanks judging from the little effect they seemed to be having on Mountain 05.
“Enemy to your ten O’clock three hundred, Lieutenant, I have him.” Syracuse’s commander warned through the vox. She cursed and turned to see an auto cannon armed Russ with a dozer blade crash through the copse.
Syracuse fired on the move and the enemy tank took the hit, turned its front to them. The las cannon in it’s hull pointing comically upwards. It put down heavy auto cannon fire which shed quickly from the armoured hulls of the big tanks.
She waited a moment then decided better than to wait and let Syracuse deal with the thing. It could damage a track and then they would be out of the station without a thruster set.

“Gunner engage target.” As she said it there was a flash in the trees. Something had narrowly missed the turret. The solid passed with a loud crack overhead.
Surely it had been luck.
“Gunner, adjust gun twenty five degrees to the right, fire into the trees, HEAT.” She cursed as the round exploded among the branches. “Syracuse fire onto my target, there’s a fething vanquisher in there!”
She kept an eye on the auto cannon armed vehicle. In case it tried an attack on their rear but the vehicle had even stopped firing it’s auto cannons.
Langthorn frowned at the thing for a moment. It was just watching them.
And then she realised her mistake.
A flash in the woods again.
Something slammed into the side of the tank.

“Gunner, fire on the exterminator on our flank! The damn thing is spotting for them.”
“Left side sponson is down. Round’s passed straight through, Chattan’s dead.”
A shell slammed into the exterminator from the side and the vehicle’s ammunition went up like a firecracker. She suspected it may have fallen victim to a concealed PDF tank hunter or anti tank gun.
“Agate 01 I need you up here now.” Mountain 04 called through the vox.
Griffin was finally only five hundred metres to the rear, only just now clearing the treeline they’d stared at.
“All tanks, battle speed Positions inverted arrow two hundred metre spacing on the western end of the farm.”

The Malcadors could have a turn of speed about them when pushed to it, as fast as the lighter configurations of the leman russ, but it had been drilled into them that it was for emergencies, times like this. There was a chance to kill the transmission and immobilise yourself. For most of the time half or three quarters speed was fine. But sometimes you had to motor.
Scourage roared to life, she felt the machine surge forwards like an old warhorse at the very hint of the spurs.
Oh yes this was a machine that knew war.

She saw an impressive flash on the hill, followed quickly by a second. Something caught fire slowly in the valley.
She looked through the binoculas and saw the burning wreckage of tank 525.

She knew what that double flash was. And she knew what could have brewed up a malcador that easily from a kilometer away. She looked through her binoculas and saw the thing backing up to reload, but she’d seen enough to identify it. She’d always had good eyes for identifying machines. Well a good eye now anyway.

It chilled the blood in her veins, she could hear a furious Staff Sergeant Luia asking if anyone saw anything. “Enemy Macharius vanquisher. On the eastern end of the rise.”
Judging from Tungst’s words it had to be what had destroyed Silthere. The enemy commander was careful.


   
 
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