Anya’s sister was made to remove the jacket and the cap she had taken from Anya, and Anya’s officer impersonator, his similar uniform and breastplate (that you appropriated, why not?). The sister had been wearing a normal shirt underneath, so no accommodations for modesty were needed. The same couldn’t be said for Anya herself, but you didn’t learn that until she had already stripped her shirt off, giving you only a fraction of a second to avert your eyes. When you peered back, Anya simply stared at you, jacket open and stomach on full display, a short, tightly fitting blouse covering her from neck to just below her ribs. It was impossible not to notice that her belly was taut and strong, like her arms.

“What?” she demanded, the coat resting on her shoulders, her thumbs in her waistband and arms decidedly not in their proper place in the jacket. “What’s with the stinkeye? Gimme my plate back if you don’t like the view.”

A gaze into your own skull said all you needed to on that subject.

“So, boss,” Hans came up behind you, took one look at Anya, and wolf-whistled. “God damn, if every prisoner of war was like that,” Anya only stared back bitterly, the only change in expression being a slight frown. “Yeah, babe, I’m talking about you,” Hans cooed at her, though he snapped his attention back to you when you cleared your throat loudly. “Yeah, yeah. Right. So I looked through the tanks, and besides a few that had been turned into mince pots…” Hans produced some roughly bound bundles of pages, flipping through them dramatically. “Radio frequencies. Codes. The whole shebang, and probably more, if the sex machine is feeling helpful.”

“You are forbidden from hitting on the prisoner,” were the words that hastily tumbled from your mouth. “Did you find anything else?”

“Yeah,” Hans turned out a pocket and gripped a wad of photographs, “The platoon leader’s tank from the ones we didn’t hit, had a whole lot of these stuck around it.”

Hans handed them to you, and they flipped one by one over your fingers. Each photo was of a Strossvalder soldier or a group of them, some of them copies of middlingly famous photographs, or news clippings. It was a somewhat impressive collection considering where they had been assembled, you had to admit, but what was the purpose of it? You looked to Anya, whose frown had deepened, while a single eyebrow twitched.

“Another thing, actually,” Hans snatched the photos back from you without asking, “One of your officers, might have been Von Dork or Von Irritable, they said it might be a waste to torch the tanks we didn’t hit too bad. You think we should take them back? We’ve got the people for it, after all, if we’re heading back anyhow.”

You thought a bit about it. By your calculations, a proper repainting wouldn’t set by the time the fighting started, and despite the shoddy equipment of most of the 1st Republican Armored, they had trained on it, as opposed to this equipment which would be relatively unfamiliar. Though, these vehicles were superior to the average Guillotine tank…

>No. We’re scuttling them and leaving, once we’ve stripped them of all their papers. They’re not worth it.
>We’ll take them, we need all the extra firepower we can get. Have a driver in each, nothing else.
>Destroy all but one, we can take one home as an example of how to identify the enemy, along with all these uniformed volunteers we’ve gotten.
>Other?

Questions from last thread will be addressed after this.

>https://pastebin.com/UagT0hnh
>past threads in pastebin. Twitter is @scheissfunker for announcements and some other bullshit

>>2243140
>We’ll take them. Have a driver in each, nothing else.

You never know when an extra tank can come in handy. I wouldnt recommend fielding them in the upcoming battle due to the likelyhood of friendly fire, however they can still be repurposed later or used as an infiltration vehicle shortly before the attack to lock down the motorpool.

Is she the scout tank commander from the valley ambush? Im not keen on letting her know that was our doing.

>>2243183
Nah, she's not Squeak. She doesn't have a man in drag in her crew. With all the idle time, though, it isn't unreasonable to think that the stragglers left over from the ambush in the pass might have wandered over, though they'd be hard pressed to do that without their vehicles or weapons.

>>2243140
>We’ll take them, we need all the extra firepower we can get. Have a driver in each, nothing else.

>>2243183
Has good ideas, at the very least we can use them as examples of who to shoot at in the battle.

>>2243140
>We’ll take them, we need all the extra firepower we can get. Have a driver in each, nothing else.

>>2243140
>>We’ll take them, we need all the extra firepower we can get. Have a driver in each, nothing else.

Once we get back to Wossenhalia we can have colored tarps or bolts of cloth or something draped over the turrets for identification if we need to use them. Maybe they can be given to the crews of any tanks that break down and can't be fixed easily, or are better off being cannibalized for parts.

“We’ll take them. Have a driver in each, nothing else.” You pointed illustratively to the tanks, “Whichever ones aren’t too messy or disabled to be worth bringing back. We need all the extra firepower we can get for this, and you never know when you need a spare tank.”

“If we need a spare tank,” Hans muttered, “I’ll be glad enough I’m getting into a new one. On my way, boss. Don’t get tempted by this cutie while your wife’s away, yeah?”
As if. Hans sauntered away with his bundle of goods, leaving you and some cohorts with the prisoners. They were quickly rounded up into bundles on top of the tanks; you’d rather be well out of the area by the time the thick, oily smoke from the scuttled tanks rose high into the air.

When you gave the order to move out once more, though, unpleasant noises came from the engines of the m/32s…

With five of the enemy’s tanks in tow (local copies of Netillian NfK-5 tankettes with turrets grafted to them; you couldn’t think of what they’d be classified as technically, so you settled for calling them DH-1: Death Head 1. You hoped there wouldn’t be any DH-2s.) as well as a mob of prisoners, the first skirmish of the Battle of Todesfelsen had ended with great promise. Your victorious return was hailed, much to your pleasure, by cheering and jeering from the few allies you crossed paths with on your way back to the command post you and Honnrieg had set up in a two story house on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t be quartered in Lord Wossehn’s manor, of course; it wasn’t suitably positioned, and it had been agreed upon before that you would stay out of the inner city, so that in case you were defeated, there was a level of plausible deniability for the co-conspirators to Todesfelsen’s conquest.

As the prisoners were being dealt with by Honnrieg and a few volunteers from Bat Company, happy to see the return of their leader, you occupied yourself by going over to the representatives from yet another ally; mercenaries of the Iron Hogs Panzer Company, specifically, an officer who called himself Illger. A question had popped into your mind, concerning a name that Illger had mentioned offhandedly; a “Smitty,” that reminded you of your gunner, Stein’s, last name of Smitt. It was admittedly a very common name, but Stein’s sister had supposedly been a mechanical genius, and had run off to Sosaldt long ago- it was a long shot, but the coincidences were lining up just right.

“I had some questions for you,” you began as you approached Illger, who was idling in the open turret of his ferociously dangerous tank destroyer, “Regarding your company.”

“What? Oh, uh, sure, yeah,” Illger smiled broadly, “What sort of questions?”

“Regarding this person you call Smitty,” you stopped by the track and leaned on the mudguard, looking up as Illger also leaned over to look at you, “I want to know more about them. They sound like somebody I know.”

Illger laughed a single note. “I don’t know why you’d think that, man.”

“Describe her.”

“Well, okay,” Illger began to count off on his fingers, “White blonde hair, damn pretty, though she’s not interested in anybody, says she’s waiting for somebody in…Strossvald, I think it was. That’s where she said she wandered in from. Amazing mechanic, just damn smart with machines, good with metalworking,”

“Huge breasts?” you cut to the chase, using the clue Hans had gushed the most over. That guess cut Illger short, and he gave you a look of questioning.

“That’s…a bit too good of a guess,” Illger had been caught off guard, and he carefully stepped into each word, “Are you…the guy?”

“No,” you replied, “I might know him, though. A friend, from what I hear.”

“If we’re talking about the same guy, he’s a bit more than a friend,” Illger smiled slightly again, back on his feet, “Smitty wanted to elope with the guy, but he got cold feet. Said he wasn’t ready.”

“Hans? Got cold feet?” You wheezed. “I don’t know if we are talking about the same guy now.”

Illger gave a single chuckle, “Well, if we are, tell him Smitty really, really wants to see him. She’s been waiting years, you know. All this time she’s shooed away anybody else. Must be a hell of a guy.”

Or Stein’s sister is absolutely mad, you thought to yourself. “I’ll see what he says,” you turned and held a hand up in farewell, “Thanks.”

With that done, it was time to return to Anya and grill her for information. There was the other officer, certainly, but with a route into Anya’s head clear to you in the form of her sister (not that you intended to make good on any threats, but just in case…) and the fact that you had shot up significantly fewer of Anya’s men made her more likely to answer your questions, even if you were not looking forward to interacting with her again.

While Anya hadn’t been the only one to disguise herself, after she had surrendered, nobody particularly tried to remain hidden. When you had rounded everybody up, nevertheless, every prisoner was identified, and every member of the task force accounted for, down to the corpses in the tanks and on the ground.

Anya had been placed in a room with a Bat Company guard watching carefully over her, and though the Death Head officer was seated comfortably on a sofa, her arms had been pinned behind her back and tied together, as had her ankles. Her jacket had also been taken off of her; the situation reminded you somewhat of when you had met Maddalyn in captivity. The two women’s undershirts were somewhat similar, though Anya’s was more risqué in its shortness. The officer, who looked rather little like a dangerous mercenary brigand in her current state of dress, glared at you as you sat on the stool that had been propped in front of her.

“Hey,” she blurted out suddenly, “Before we start this, I gotta make something clear,”

“I thought I was asking the questions,” you cut her off, but Anya ignored you.

“I’m helping you now,” Anya continued, “But I’m not screwing my guys over. You shot some of them, killed a couple, I didn’t like them much and they didn’t like me, but they were still my guys. So I’m not being all buddy-buddy. This is just the best option. Alright?”

“…If you say so,” you said nonchalantly, “Now, I have questions.”

“My three sizes? My blood type?”

“…Is it possible for you to take this seriously?” you asked irritably.

“Fine.” Anya relented, “Hit me. I mean with the questions.”

“Tell me about your people’s equipment,” you said first, “What’s the heaviest tank or tank destroyer you’ve got holed up in Todesfelsen?”

Anya thought hard. “I can’t tell you the name, so you best be happy with what I can say. We’ve got a few things that look like your tanks, but older. A few of the big blocky Twaryian ones, like one of yours, we nicked off of Blood Sun stuff too, and tanks like the ones I have…used to have, except no turret and a bigger gun in the hull.”

Your military studies, official and extracurricular, had paid dividends. All of those types were vaguely known to you. The blocky Twaryian tanks were obviously T-15 types, and an older variant of the m/32 was roughly analogous to the m/24, which was a rather antique design, but one still in use in a few places. It had a similar gun to the m/32, a 3.7cm anti-tank gun capable of fighting your lighter tanks on equal footing and even your heavies if it got very close and aimed just right, but its armor was lacking. Meanwhile, the last model was obviously some type of NfK-SK; a Netillfabrik Kriegswagon SturmKanone. To be precise, it was a different chassis than the NfK-5, larger, wider, and capable of potenatially carrying a heavy gun indeed, though you doubted if the ones the Death Heads had carried anything larger than a four centimeter bore. A gun that could certainly do damage, no doubt, but not something you were seriously afraid of either. Anya hadn’t mentioned the Volcan Customs that you had seen in the fort, but she might not have known how potentially much better those were than the vehicles she listed off, either.

“Are you sure you aren’t forgetting anything?” you pressed, “Anything big, like the Red Tide?”

Anya scoffed. “That hunk of shit? No, nothing like that. You do know that thing was just a big paper tiger, right? Selgess, when that retard was still alive, liked to ride around in it because it was big and bad looking, but I’d never get near that thing if I had to fight it. It’s a goddamn mountain, you’d have to be a fool to have it even shoot at you, you’d see it a thousand years before it’d even know you existed.”

You felt no need to bring up how you had been very nearly killed destroying the vehicle that Anya criticized so heartily.

“Besides,” Anya continued, “That’s a Blood Sun thing. We didn’t ever keep it here for long.”

“Speaking of,” you carried on forward, clasping your hands in your lap, “Are you still with them? Are there any close enough to reinforce you?”

Anya had to think about that one for several minutes. “…Nah. I don’t think so. They’d say in advance a while before they came with anything. We’re pretty isolated from them up here, and there was a lot of talk when word of Selgess getting killed came back, of just cutting loose from them. Losing a whole damn group like that on a meager contract just isn’t worth it, like, ever. I don’t think anybody’s coming to help, even if they knew you were coming to fucking rape us.”

“I resent that term,” you said bitterly.

“Yeah, well,” Anya shifted and sputtered, “It’s what you did. Just popped right up, and, schlahp. Right in the backdoor. Hard and raw.”

“…Whatever you say,” you muttered, “You know your city, right? I need you to tell me about any fortifications, outposts, minefields, bunkers, all of that. The more you tell me about the nicer your treatment gets.”

“Wow, so charitable,” Anya laughed haughtily, “What do I have to do for you to punch me in the face again?...Don’t look at me like that, I’ll tell. Just…this’ll take a while.”

Anya, despite her crass and sarcastic response, did indeed guide you down a list of what she knew was in the perimeter of the city. The minefields, apparently, were widely dispersed and clearly marked. Not enough mines, and most of them had been sitting there for ages, according to her. They were more for the purpose of channeling any assault rather than actually being a threat or surprise.

>When the map is shown, locations that Anya mentioned will be marked.

“So uh,” Anya squirmed, “Is that all? Because the less time I spend talking to you the better I’ll feel.”

>Any other questions/ issues to address?
>That’s all. No need to spend any more time with Anya.
>Other?

>I'm going to lie down for a bit, feeling like trash. Will be back later tonight.

>>2243608
List of all of Maddalyn's tormentors?

While I'm thankful she gave us a detailed rundown on their defences I can't help but feel that she might be undereporting the extent of their minefields and that she's trying to get us to walk right into it

>>2243783
Bur basically option 2.
Phone posting sucks and it posted prematurely.

>>2243608
>Other?
Hopefully this is the last time we'll ever see her again but her fate is up to Cyclops.

Although we do have the leader's ear. If there's anything else she wants to tell us before we go it may affect the likelihood of her ending up either eventually released or working on a prison chain gang deep in the mines.

I intend for the threat to be a fib but it's good to keep our options open.

Or if we want to pretend to be a real bastard the odds of her sister ending up in the mines.

>>2243608
What with the infatuation with Strossvald military culture?

If we wanted to sneak some of her old tanks back inside the city what are the checks and code words or would they just let us drive back into the motor pool?

She said the city was a mess, can she elaborate?

What the fuck happened to Emma, we could use some eyes on the city giving us real timeish reports while we wait for the rest of the republic army.

Any engineers on hand, we really need to get them to do a quick check on the engines, or our crew to do it.

>>2243608

What are the Deaths Heads' defensive plans for Todesfelsen? Would they sally out with their tanks? Lure the attackers into range of their AT guns? Close-quarters fighting in the streets? They must have some contingency plans in place.

Also ask about those pictures of Strossvald soldiers.

>>2244025
>>2244008
Supporting

Also anything about the different factions in Todesfelsen would be nice, so we know who not to shoot when the battle starts.

Alright I am now either not dead or permanently dead but perfectly cognizant nevertheless. Getting back to work.

>>2244008
>What the fuck happened to Emma, we could use some eyes on the city giving us real timeish reports while we wait for the rest of the republic army.

On temporary leave in Rostig due to an extremely high chance of dogbois with purge on sight orders.

“Far from it,” you crossed a leg over the other and settled in more comfortably, “For one, while you’re listing off people, you can go ahead and tell me who else tormented my lovely, sweet, and good natured fiancée while she was imprisoned by your band.”

Anya seriously considered making one sort of smart aleck comment judging from the expression she made, but she instead made another. “I’m not about to list every god damned person that went in or out of the women’s baths. You may as well string up everybody in the fort without a cock, except maybe that creepy piece of ground beef Cranick decided to…fuckin’ marry, or whatever. Not that she’s still around, she pissed off just a day after he got smoked. Pretty damn suspicious if you ask me.” Anya went off the rails on that particular point, so you put her back on track with another question. Though you were curious of Hilda’s condition, you didn’t want to let on that she was one of your people yet, if ever. Doing that could be a hideous danger to gaining potential allies.

“What’s with the photos of Strossvalders?” you asked next, “A bit of an odd thing to have stashed around your tank in that sort of quantity.”

Anya bit her lip and looked off to the side of the room, unable to hide her discomfort at that question. “It’s not important. Who cares? Maybe I think they’re hot. It’s not anything special.”

Your eyes narrowed at her, but you couldn’t think of an angle to press from. There was something deeper, that much was obvious, but its relevance was admittedly a shot in the dark at best.
“So what if we wanted to take your tanks and pretend to be the bunch of you, could I do that with the right use of your codes?” you asked, a plan slowly being conceived in your head, “Maybe well enough that I could get into your motor pools?”

Anya scoffed. “They’d ask to talk to me, and unless you’ve got somebody who’s, well, me, you’re not getting close. Not that anything’s in the pools, anyways. Everybody’s gotten ready for a fight, not against you, believe it or not. They’re waiting for shit to boil over between themselves. I wouldn’t be surprised if it all had gone south while I was gone. Even if you were dumb enough to trust that I wouldn’t screw you over, and I did everything to the letter, there’d be no point. There’s no big fat ammo store you can just set fire to and walk away from any more.”

It was a shame for that plan to have been stillborn; it had been developing so well in your head, though in hindsight, your position wouldn’t have been as good as what Loch’s men in Todesfelsen would have already had for a while anyways. Though, the reason your plan had turned out to be less than feasible was worth investigating in and of itself.

“You said the city was a mess,” you drummed your hands on your thighs, “care to elaborate? Who’s who, and who would be our friends?”

Anya drew a long breath, and let it blow out long and slow. “Ho boy. Alright, I’ll try to say the short version. Every battalion’s a different set of guys, some of them have uppity leader in them, even. The three mech battalions each have a different leader, though,"

"Three? Not four?"

"Three," Anya repeated, "and they’re all set together for the most part. Each of ‘em’s a boss like Selgess was, all of ‘em think the others suck, and that’s cause they almost never meet. Usually, with the Blood Suns work, they were hardly ever home ‘cept to take a break or whatever. Then you have the four foot battalions, and they’re about the same, but they’re less together, three of them might be broken up into…I dunno, three or four different clubs.”

“You’re rather vague on this,” you commented.

Anya shifted irritably. “Hey, look, I’m just a toon boss. I don’t keep up with the whole damn command structure.”

“So what camp are you part of?”

“I told you. Cranick’s. That’s the last…I dunno, faction, or whatever. Home guard, volunteers, recruits, training, and the mine unions. Everybody who has to stick around in the territory while the others go off and dick around. All of them are split up a dozen ways too, but we’re all together in that we think the other clowns ought to keep their noses out of our business if they’re never gonna be around. They’re the ones who wanted to shack up with the Blood Suns and go around everywhere else, after all.”

“The Home Guard has a mechanized component?” you asked.

Anya tipped her head back and looked down her cheek at you. “Yeah. A tank company. Rather, two toons. Good work, dick head. Other than that, the Home Guard’s not got much for good gear. We’d probably lose if all seven other battalions gangbanged us, but it’s not looking like that’ll happen. Each mech wants to be the big cheese, the foot guys want three different guys for the big boss, and the Home Guard wanted Cranick, but that’s out the window. Anybody but the people the others are gunnin’ for would be fine in our eyes, I’d say.”

“Anybody, huh?” a hand reached up to stroke your chin contemplatively. “Is that so?” Anya didn’t say anything, and only creased her mouth at you. “So, how about telling me what your plans are for a case where, for example, a whole army rolled up on Todesfelsen? Is there a procedure for that?”

“Well,” Anya thought again, “Well, that’s really never happened. Dunno if you heard, but Todesfelsen’s probably the most badass place around here. We were the ones going out and stomping on heads til now, you know. That’s why the minefields are so small and why they’re so old, that I’d guess half of the bombs are old shit and rotted through, nobody really figured we’d be attacked. I’d say that everybody would go out and fight the people attacking us, though. That’s the way it’s always been, and even now, I doubt your Republic’s badass enough that everybody would try holing up. Not when the Home Guard’s already holed up, not much room, or point, in anybody else hunkering down anyways. Not even Hell Gitt thought about attacking Todesfelsen at the top of his game, even right after they smashed the Death Heads with the Blood Suns all that time ago.”

“Really,” you mused, “I heard Hell Gitt was quite a bit stronger and bolder than that.”

Anya shrugged at you. “Hey, I’m the Hog here, not you.”

You blinked. “You’re the Hog? As in Iron Hog?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t in for long, and I was just a driver, but I was one of Hell Git’s Iron Hogs,” Anya swelled with pride for a moment, “I skipped out like anybody else with a brain did when Hell went and fucking choked. You’d do the same if you were in my position. Manliest, roughest, toughest guy ever…I mean, and nobody proper to replace him. Everybody thought the pig would take the job, but he refused. It was just like what’s happening in Todesfelsen right now, only since the Iron Hogs didn’t own the city, people just left with the gear, instead of getting ready to start shit like they are here. Anyways, like I said, nobody ever expected anybody to come here and try to take the city itself. Nobody thought we’d be breaking up like this either, but here we are, and here you are.”

“I see,” you stood up, “Well, you’ve certainly said plenty, but I think it’s time for us to part ways. I probably won’t see you again, given that you’ll probably be in a chain gang working deep in a mine,” you intended this to be a false threat, but Anya snorted, started shaking, and couldn’t help muddling her mouth with a suppressed grin. “What?” you demanded of her.

“You’re really a big softie, you know?” Anya cackled, “You think I’m going to take any threat seriously from you? Watch out, or I might make you do hard labor, in a mine! Oooh, I’m scared. If you seriously wanted to put the fear of the Judge in me, you’d threaten to have my sister hung, or raped, or whatever. Hell, you could say you’d torture me, maybe threaten me with that, but instead you shack me up in a house, on a couch, and practically have tea with me. Compared to what I’d expect from anybody else, this is a goddamn date.” Anya turned her hips coyly and adopted a mocking bashful position, “B-but you have a wife! Why are you trying to seduce little ol’ me? Get real. I’ve already emptied my pockets, anything else would be shit you couldn’t possibly care about.”

As Anya continued to snicker, you stood up brusquely and headed for the door. After leaving in a huff, you found Honnrieg and shared what you had been told, before bidding him to try and squeeze more information out of the insolent captive.

In the meantime, you went to your engineers, with whom you’d left your m/32s after they had emitted the ghastly noises upon leaving the village earlier.

They had no good news to share.

Rolled 98, 90, 89 = 277 (3d100)

Maintenance rolls, lower is better. Hidden DC equivalents; the mechanics can do their best, but some things just need a part instead of a swift kick or a smack with a wrench.

>>2244638
Wow, that is a pretty atrocious roll.

>>2244638
>lower is better
>Rolled 98, 90, 89 = 277 (3d100)
PWfftBwahahahaha
Welp, guess were a single tank platoon now and everyone is running around in cardboard boxes

>>2244638
Use all the healing spells on the engines?

File: Fuck 4.png (1.32 MB, 1200x950)

1.32 MB PNG

>>2244638
>Rolled 98, 90, 89 = 277 (3d100)

“You’re practically rolling god damn dead,” the senior of the two mechanics said to you, “Your Lieutenant’s tank, Von Metzeler’s, I’m shocked it started at all when we were working on it. If it starts again it’ll be a miracle.”

“Surely you can do something,” your voice quavered slightly as the mechanic’s dire news.

He shook his head. “Nope. You can only jury rig so much with these things. If you keep it down to half speed and don’t test yourself on elevation changes, you might make it to your fight, maybe back, too. If you test the vehicles at all, though, they’ll shit the bed. Treat ‘em like they’re made of glass.”

“I see,” you said glumly, “Thank you for your efforts.”

An unfortunate can lay in your path on the way back to Honnrieg and the prisoner, and it found itself kicked into the horizon with a guttural cry of frustration. You’d expected this to happen at some point, they were m/32s, after all, notorious for mechanical troubles if abused, but right before a moment like this? You’d be good god damned if you were to try and crew any other tanks, though, not that you lacked for them now, at least.

Honnrieg was in a much more chipper mood than you when you came back, and he shared your concern when you broached the bad news.

“Well, damn,” he said sympathetically, “They don’t make ‘em like they used to, huh? Would you have preferred to be in an m/28 platoon now?”

“If I had been riding in an m/28 I’d probably be dead right now,” was your reply to that. “So did she say anything interesting to you?”

Honnrieg smiled slowly. “I thought I would play the nice, old guy angle. It didn’t reap much in the way of tactical knowledge, but…” he leaned in and said lowly, “I told her my history with your dear uncle, not that she knows who you are. I have to say, she’s a big fan of old Hell. You know what the bastard told her way back when? That she’d be a perfect fit for his nephew. All those photos are her trying to imagine what that nephew would look like. She wants to go and marry this mysterious nephew of Heller Von Tracht.”

“Well,” you said dourly, “She’s out of luck, isn’t she. Hey, don’t I look rather like my uncle? For a fan, she didn’t seem to notice that.”

“In denial, perhaps,” Honnrieg admitted, “Women look at men who’ve punched them in the face rather differently, you know.”

“Fair point.”

“So,” Honnrieg rubbed his hands together, “I haven’t ruined her dreams yet, I thought we might have an opportunity to have a good laugh, if you want. Judge above knows we’d appreciate one right before we all die.”

>Funny as that is, I don’t feel like doing that. Best to keep some dreams alive.
>I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I certainly need some good humor after hearing my tanks might melt.
>We have a few nobles knocking about. Maybe it’d be worth it to set up a honeypot?
>Other?

>>2244669
>>I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I certainly need some good humor after hearing my tanks might melt.

>>2244669
>>I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I certainly need some good humor after hearing my tanks might melt.

Inform her that some of the Hogs will be here incase shes made some enemies

>>2244669
>>I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I certainly need some good humor after hearing my tanks might melt.

Now this is just begging for the harem route. How do we turn down a girl like that? Maybe Maddalyn would be okay with Anya tagging along as our mistress if she gets to be in charge of her and boss and bully her around in revenge? Plus Anya can crew a tank. If we got two more tank-savvy girls we could crew an entire tank with waifus. But that would probably be getting greedy.

>>2244669
>Funny as that is, I don’t feel like doing that. Best to keep some dreams alive.
You know how this'll end. She'll just be disappointed we're such a pussy, and open the snark floodgates.

>>2244669
Option 1

>>2244669
>I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I certainly need some good humor after hearing my tanks might melt.

I'm going to pretend that this is Richter's childish revenge for Anya not taking his authority seriously. It's funny as hell when people tell him no or don't do what he says, like Jorgen and Malachi earlier and Anya now, Richter just goes "What?" and drops it. Ff he wasn't in a uniform, he'd be a teddy bear.

>>2244669
tanq why you gotta keep bringing out girls at this stage? This is torture. Fun might have been torture but still.

On the one hand I'd feel bad for crushing her dream, on the other she won't ever wake up from it if we don't spoof her.

>We have a few nobles knocking about. Maybe it’d be worth it to set up a honeypot?

>>2244669
>Funny as that is, I don't feel like doing that. Best to keep some dreams alive.

>>2244669
>I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I certainly need some good humor after hearing my tanks might melt.

>>2244669
Changing vote to
>Funny as that is, I don’t feel like doing that. Best to keep some dreams alive.

>>2244678
Me incase my code changed.

>>2244669
>I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I certainly need some good humor after hearing my tanks might melt.

Please don't make it too sadistic tanq, just some good ol jest?

Hoo boy, managing to not update for an entire day, on a weekend? Jesus.

Anyways I'll be updating in a bit. Sorry.

Update in about half an hour, spending too much time on questionable decisions.

Also I'm going back on something I referred to when concerning pictures.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” you decided. “I certainly need a bit of humor after hearing my tanks might melt.”

“Fighting outside of a can ain’t as bad as you might think,” Honnrieg said, only somewhat mocking, “It’s either that or you make use of some of the new captures, eh?”

The thought sent a shudder down your spine. “I draw the line at crewing actual tin cans. I’ll go in to meet my second wife, now.”

As you entered the room with Anya once again, you felt a chill, the enemy tank commander glaring at you the instant it became apparent who you were. Honnrieg, in an effort to make her more amiable, you supposed, had unbound her hands and feet and returned her jacket to her. Anya hadn’t done as you’d rather she had and actually put it on properly, though. Her arms were in the sleeves, but she hadn’t buttoned up the center as would be professional.

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“…Whatever.” Anya muttered before you could say anything, “Should have figured. The way you came waltzing in here after what that guy said, you’re this fabled Richter Von Tracht, huh?” Anya continued to glare, before rolling her head back and sighing, “Yeah, sorry guy, but this is still only the second worst day of my life. I’d be pretty disappointed if you weren’t a complete twinkletoes prick, but you’ve saved me some grief. I suppose I ought to thank you for being so far below what I expected.”

“Withering,” you said, a smirk refusing to fall off of your face as you took your place on the stool once more.

“You really don’t know how much Hell hyped you up to me,” Anya pulled her head back forward and looked down her nose at you, her splayed out arms and legs clearly showing how little she thought of your position over her, “To every young girl, really, but guess how many thought to do somethin’ about it. Too bad it turns out Hell’s guess was way off the mark. All this?” she pointed to the scar on her face, and then pulled her arm out of her sleeve and bent it, flexing the slim, taut muscle, “All for you, fella. I hope you’re proud. I sure am, even if it turned out it was for a lie. I’m one hell of a woman by my measuring stick.” She sullenly drew her sleeve back over her.

“Speaking of Hell and his Iron Hogs,” your anticipation of seeing Anya flustered had faded away like a puddle in the sun, “I have a few of them with me. We struck up a deal. Do you have any old friends you’d rather not see?”

“I’m sure you’d arrange a reunion party,” Anya sneered, “Nah. You had to be there to get it, I’m not the only Hog who hopped over, you know. I was just some rinky dink crewman, anyhow, nobody gives a damn about my ass over there.” Anya crossed her legs, “So who is it here, then.”

“A man called Illger.”

Anya cocked an eyebrow. “That fucker’s still alive? He’s been good as dead three times since I last heard of him. He really is a goddamn cockroach.”

“Do you know each other?”

“Nah, the Hogs were real big, you know. I only heard that he was the guy with the shit luck.” Anya leaned sideways and laid down, “Guess he dumped it all on me. Oh, by the way,” the rude woman dug in her waistband and pulled out a whippy sheet of sharpened steel, and tossed it onto your lap, “Pretty amateur to not look around in a girl’s underwear for this shit. If I knew you’d be a bunch of prudes I’d’ve tried to hide a bit more.”

>Was that an invitation?
>You wouldn’t show me that without a good reason. Are you hoping to bargain?
>That’s a strange way of asking to be restrained again. Or punched. Maybe both.
>Button up your jacket if your hands are free, you harlot.
>Other?

>>2249072
>Honnrieg, please don't uncuff prisoners without searching them first.

>I'm not sure how I'm supposed to enjoy my heroe's welcome back home when a lass who hoped to marry me is treating me like a worm.

I'm not sure what she wants from a man anyway. Here's trying to be halfway decent but that's apparently not doing any good, maybe she really do want her men to be the worst Sosaldt has to offer?

I also wonder what kind of picture hell painted of him. A blue-blooded wunderchild with impeccable manners and haughty but sincere demeanor. Ruler of peasants, friend of kings?

>>2249233

I agree, I mean we did punch her in the face so I'm not sure what more she was expecting. Maybe she's just pissy because we already have a fiance.

And I also think we should ask her what exactly Hell said about us. I was under the impression we didn't really spend enough time with him for him to know us that well. Unless he's talking about a different nephew.

>>2249296
Richter and anya must've been young teens at the time, just a guy proud of his family you know?
She had a shit attitude before we punched her, but I guess standing up for your woman by striking a girl is frowned upon, even if they tortured her and is an enemy combatant.

Maybe the key is secret softy and mushy romantic, but to bad for her, she wasn't first girl.

>>2249072
>Was that an invitation?

I WANT TO PUSH THE BIG RED BUTTON.

>>2249154
Supporting

>>2249072
Is that an invitation?

>>2249154
Supporting

>>2249154
Supporting as well

>>2249072
>You wouldn’t show me that without a good reason. Are you hoping to bargain?

Why does a rude uncouth bandit get a waifu picture, while the pure adorable Fie doesn't? Explain yourself tanq.

“A moment,” you rose, while Anya continued laying on her side idly, and peeked out the door at Honnrieg. “Captain,” you addressed him, “Please don’t remove the prisoner’s restraints without searching them first.”

Honnrieg peered into the room. “Doesn’t seem like she’s putting up a fight.”

“She hid a blade in her underwear,” you held up the offending shiv, “She could have-“

“Lieutenant.” Honnrieg put a heavy hand on your shoulder, “First off, I’m not frisking a lady’s underclothing. Just not right.”

“This woman isn’t one of your daughters, Captain-“

“Let me finish, green bean,” Honnrieg cut you off, “She’s done. It doesn’t matter what she has hidden where, if a prisoner’s not got a proper fight in them, if they know where they’re at, they won’t resist. Especially from this country, there’s no national loyalty or training to resist after capture.” When you remained skeptical, he reminded you, “I’ve been doing this for a while. I think I know how a prisoner of this sort behaves.”

“She still seems rather resistant to me,” you said grouchily.

Honnrieg leaned over your shoulder and called into the room. “You remember the deal, young lady?”

A mumbled response that amounted to “piss off” came back.

“Deal?” you asked.

“She acts more politely, and maybe she gets treated more leniently.”

Honnrieg got a hollow chortle in reponse to that. “She’s been putting a damper on my win,” you complained, “Even the hero’s welcome back home is sure to be sour now. A lass who hoped to marry me is treating me like a worm.”

“What did you think your wife would turn out like, Lieutenant?” Honnrieg asked lightly, turning his head slightly and anticipating your answer.

To be honest, you hadn’t thought about that much before you were on your way to actually possibly meet her. It hadn’t been your business, as far as you were concerned. It was like appearing in a court or meeting with higher nobility at an occasion, more your father’s business and an obligation rather than something to particularly concern yourself with. You said as much to the Captain.

“…Let me rephrase that,” Honnrieg muttered, “friggin’ nobility. Was your wife anything like you expected her to be?”

“Absolutely not.”

“There you go.” When you sighed raggedly, Honnrieg gave you a suggestion. “She likes talking about Heller. Just try that.”

With a rough turn of the heel and a mutterance of minimal gratitude, you went back over, not bothering to seat yourself again. This conversation, you expected, wouldn’t last long enough to need to get comfortable.

“So,” you led off, “What did Heller Von Tracht say about me, to, as you say, hype me up so much?”

“No, no, no,” Anya shot up and leaned forward, “Not Heller Von Tracht, he never called himself that, nobody called him that until your old guy showed up. He was Hell Gitt, and it’s a goddamn shock to me that he was some sort of aristocrat.”

“I see,” you said, “What did he say about me?” You were certainly curious of what it could possibly be; Heller Von Tracht had never really spent much time around you or your family, besides the possibility of letters between him and his brother, your father.

“Said he was shaping up to be just like him, but better,” Anya said simply, “Said you wanted to grow up to be a knight.”

Your ears pinkened at that. Knighthood had been a childish dream from way back when; a title your family by technicality already had. Anya spoke of the word with the reverence one would give a person of folklore, though, instead of how anybody who knew the significance of the class would treat it. As Anya forgot the enmity between you and launched into a rather saccharine view of what she viewed a knight as, it became obvious that her construction of Hell Git’s bachelor relative was fantastical at best in many portions.

“The sort of man you’re describing sounds like he would have long found a spouse,” you couldn’t help but point out, “What was the plan if that was the case?”

“I’d steal him, of course,” Anya was ever defiant, “When you’ve come as far as I have, what’s the point in aiming anywhere but the top? Born in a pile of crap, more than a decade clawing my way here, it would only be right. I had all this cash saved up too, you know, just so I wouldn’t be some beggar when I moved over…” Anya’s face fell and she put her head glumly in her hands, “Yeah, guess that’s probably going to get looted too. Again. Whatever.”
Anya stretched her arms over her head with a groan and flipped herself over the couch, legs dangling over the top as she stared at the ground, despite being only a bit above it now. “Getting better and better now, though. I went from not getting what I wanted, to figuring out it wasn’t worth it anyways, to learning I didn’t have a chance anyways. It’s a cool feeling, having your biggest aspirations dumped all over. Maybe you should try it sometime.” She looked up at you again, eyes smoldering, “Could have still tried to get out of this place, but I guess it’s the chain gang for me, huh?”

“Maybe if you were more endearing, that wouldn’t be the case,” you hadn’t exactly cooled towards this woman yet.

“I thought about that. Course, fat chance of me being a mistress on the side, huh? Too much bad blood.” Anya peered at you coyly, “So I got nothing but a bunch of crap feels to share. Hey, wipe that offended look off your face, I know men do it, the noble sorts, I hear, even more than usual.”

“You tormented my wife once already,” you started, only to be cut off. Anya had an awful habit of doing that, you could notice already.

“Yeah, I’m a bully, but look. If you’d heard any of that good shit she spouted, you’d have given her a dunk too. Nobody was like trying to be her friend or nothin’, but when somebody says something, you can’t just leave it, you know? Besides, it was just a little water. Nobody ought to freak out like she did about it.”

“You cut her eye out,” you reminded her.

“Me?” Anya protested incredulously, “What? No, that was ‘cause somebody, you, probably, pissed off Liemanner. I dunno what the fuck you expected, whatever you did, you’re lucky you didn’t get mailed her head. I guess being worth so much cash has its perks, huh? You don’t get to blame me for that” Anya continued to dangle by her legs off the furniture, and her expression softened slightly, turning from frustrated to skeptical. “Hey, you still haven’t searched me. Had me strip, shoved your hands around, nothing. Even after I chucked that piece on you.”

”Is that an invitation?” you were tempted to say, but you said nothing.

Anya blinked at you expectantly in the quiet. “Hey. I asked you a question. I’ve been doin’ nothing but trying to piss you off and you haven’t hit me again or anything. Sort of pissing me off now.”

>Maybe I’m having a bout of pity for you. Is that so wrong?
>It’s gotten tiring to bicker with you. All I want is an apology, and maybe we can negotiate a better outcome for you. Would that be fine?
>Go ahead and strip if you’re so set on that, I’m not forcing you to do anything.
>I know you’re trying to piss me off, because it’s working. I’ve heard enough out of you, have a good life, wherever you end up.
>Other?

>>2250966
I didn't expect you to keep her to be honest. If you want one, that can be done.

>>2251050
>>It’s gotten tiring to bicker with you. All I want is an apology, and maybe we can negotiate a better outcome for you. Would that be fine?

Not trying to rush things but hope we're getting to the battle soon.

>>2251057
After this interaction.Basically this is if you want to try and squeeze anything out or try anything funny at the last minute before you dive into a clusterfuck.

>>2251050
>I know you’re trying to piss me off, because it’s working. I’ve heard enough out of you, have a good life, wherever you end up.

The republics gonna need tankers when this is all done and over with. She might not necessarily end up in the chain gang, but I do doubt her loyalties.

>>2251050
>Maybe I’m having a bout of pity for you. Is that so wrong?
It's going to piss her off and that's exactly what I want.

>I didn't expect you to keep her
I don't intend to, I just find her lovable.
...Wait, do you expect us to keep Anya?

>>2251050
>Good, you've been succeeding at pissing me off, so I'm glad I could return the favor. It seems that neither of us have anything productive to gain from this conversation anymore.

>>2251074
>...Wait, do you expect us to keep Anya?

Not really!

“Good, you’ve been succeeding at pissing me off, so it’s nice that I could return the favor,” was your bitter reply. Anya stuck her tongue out at you as a final gesture of disrespect, “I’ve had enough out of you. Have a good life, wherever you end up. I’ve nothing left to gain from speaking with you.”

As you turned to leave, Anya spoke up. “Hey. Wait.” When your cold gaze returned to her, she faltered. “Nah, nevermind. Ask the other guy about it.”

One last jab at you, then. Anya received only a reply in the form of a scowl before you went out the door, intending to not see her again.

Honnrieg was gestured to to follow you as your egress out of the house was made. When the subject of what Anya had brought up at the last moment was broached, Honnrieg had roughly the opinion of it that you likely would have had.

“Part of my attempt to make her more agreeable involved spilling the beans on where we came from,” Honnrieg admitted, “Not that that’s too hard to puzzle out talking to us. She had some baseless speculation about why we were here. Not close enough to be worried about, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

With that made certain, your attention could be turned to other things, finally.

Half an hour later, a distant booming caught your attention. Artillery? From where? The shells hadn’t crashed among you, so it was a relief to not be the target of it, but it was coming from Todesfelsen nevertheless. The uprising Loch had mentioned taking place must have finally been kicking into gear.

Not much you could do about it now, though, besides idly look to the horizon and wait for the rest of your forces to arrive.

-----

It had worked. It had actually worked! Chairman Erz Tabun, senior leader of the freshly formed Miners’ and Home Guard Coalition, could hardly contain his giddiness over the fort having been taken. Not in his wildest dreams did he expect to be able to take it over, but he had done it. The beating heart of Todesfelsen had been laid in his hand by the mysterious strangers, who had come with strange body armor and heavy weapons and all manner of military skill, and despite the losses taken by the MHGC in doing so, the fortress had been stormed and the loyalists inside linked up with. The fortress, besides a few isolated holdouts, had been claimed, and its heavy artillery now rained death upon the rebellious expeditionaries.

It was scarcely enough to quell the nervous storm inside of him, though. Those who were against him and his union still far outnumbered his own forces, and their equipment was better, too. Everywhere but the fortress, reports had come of fighters being driven back, isolated, surrounded, destroyed. Equally prevalent were cases of cells simply giving up or turning coat, but despite how disastrous everything outside of the fort was developing, his foreign aids reassured him that everything would be alright. An army was coming to help, the Army of the Republic of Vang, no less. As long as they held out until the Republic arrived, everything would be fine.

Hideous screams disrupted Erz’s thinking rather often, and no matter how many doors and windows he closed between himself and them they never quite went away. Who could blame his fighters, though? They had always been the laborers, the militia, the spare meat. Their spite towards the Blue Ribbons, who seemed to gain so much from nothing, was completely understandable. Those whores had certainly not been merciful when the positions had been reversed, oh no. Still, Erz had come from enough of a cultured background that the brutality of it was…off putting. A foul taste in his mouth was certainly not enough to rouse him to actually do anything about it, though.
They had fought, died, won. Blood was boiling and all manner of lusts had manifested as scum on the surface of the spring of the men’s hearts. Let them have their fun for now.

The sounds little affected the man’s bodyguard either; so far as he’d been told, not one of the foreign agents. Cranick’s lover, in fact. Erz had never seen her before now, he knew Cranick had odd taste in women, and he also knew that the woman had been wounded when Cranick was killed, but Erz couldn’t help but think that the woman was impressively ugly. Knotted scars twisted about her face and body, raw flesh flaked off of her cheeks and nose, as though burnt, and her arms were covered from finger to elbow in tightly wrapped bandages, which leaked through in places with ugly black ichor. The woman had frightening eyes, as well, that were black, empty, and devoid of feeling.

“If only Cranick were still around, then this whole mess wouldn’t have had to happen,” he said, trying to encourage conversation.

“…Mm.” the woman merely grunted. She obviously wasn’t interested in speaking at all.

While she was nominally his bodyguard, they were both in a guarded room, themselves, guarded by more of the foreign agents. Idle talk of “claiming Cranick’s girl” had floated around enough for the concern to be reasonable, and even more talk of who would be in charge of the whole mess had been shot about throughout the formerly united organization.

Whispers of treason, cries of despair, and the ever present rattle of gunfire, all melding into a hideous cacophony both inside and outside his head…but, the Chairman reminded himself, the fort was taken, and the Army of the Republic was on its way…

-----

It had been an hour since the far off fighting had started. The first round of Republic ferries had dropped off their load, and the second were on their way. The second would bring Signy, Loch, and the rest of the war council, but for now you were the authority, trusted with holding position until senior planners came up. The other Iron Hogs representative had also returned, with a communique that the mercenaries were ready to move out whenever, though, he advised, they wouldn’t even try fighting if they were taking on the bulk of enemy forces alone. A fair enough deal, you had thought, and you anticipated several more hours of tense loitering before the command post’s long range radioman demanded your attention.

“Something from the fort in Todesfelsen, uh, sir,” the mousey fellow manning the post’s secondary receiver and transmitter said nervously, obviously dreading being the bearer of dire news, “They got right on this line. Saying they want a Lock.”

“Give me that,” you demanded, “Who is this?” was your command into the radio. A crackled response came, the voice rendered scratchy and monotone by the radio waves.

“Switch to Naval Code.”

It took some fumbling to find the setting for it, but soon enough, you had the aide writing down the dashes and dots, and then decoding the messages yourself. The codebooks had been old, antiques from the First Republic of Valsten, but they would serve their purpose in helping to hide your long range communications.

Fritz here. Fort taken. Holding strong. Allies weak, breaking, but walls strong. Attack when?
Your response was brief. Army moving. Several hours. How long hold?
Good joke. Hold fort for days. City falling apart. Allies weak. Lacking confidence. Where is Loch?
Not here yet. Tracht in command. Need help?
Fort no need help. Friends in city need distraction. Risky move, but friends break soon if no help sent. Your choice. Recommend feint.

It was up to you, then. You had the Republic’s 1st Armored Battalion, as well as the battalion the White Eyes had committed; as they were slightly smaller in number, they were able to be ferried all at once, but because of the trucks’ purpose in moving the army quickly, your “panzergrenadiers” had no access to their usual mounts.

“I’ve heard of field promotions,” you muttered to yourself, “But this is just absurd.”

>Prepare the available forces to launch an assault; draw up lines from all available forces, and signal to the Iron Hogs to attack.
>Ready the mobile troops (your tanks exclusively, for now) for raiding and hit and run attacks. Avoid full commitment, and focus on being a nuisance.
>Keep in a defensive stance. You aren’t strong enough to dare to provoke a strong enemy attack upon you.
>Demand further details from the contact in the fort.
>Other?

>>2251149
>>Prepare the available forces to launch an assault; draw up lines from all available forces, and signal to the Iron Hogs to attack.

Also how far away is the next wave time-wise?

>>2251167
Forty minutes to an hour, possibly more. Despite all manner of planning, loading and transport and also unloading is inconsistent as far as expected times go.

>>2251170
Also I feel it worth mentioning that even when they arrive, the next wave isn't ready to go just like that, since "unloading" is basically "throw all the shit on the ground as fast as possible and turn around and leave." A freshly arrived force would need at least half an hour to get hastily organized again.

>>2251149
>Reaby a mobile group made from Anya's tanks for raiding and hit and run attacks.
>Don't use our own tanks. They're barely holding together as it is. Also we won't tip our hand like this.

>>2251173
>>2251170
Ok, we should inform the second wave in advance then no matter what decision we make. At least they'll be mentally prepared that they're going to fight.

>>2251149
Option 1.

Additional forces can be deployed on the field as they arrive. Loch has Bruecker in tow, were better off as a tactical officer anyways.

I'm afraid if we come at them with small raiding forces it'll give them time to man the outer defences, so that when we do launch our full scale attack they'll have guns trained on our avenue of advance or people Manning those emplacements.

Full attack with the objective of knocking out the outer batteries before falling back to the countryside where we can take them in a classic field battle.

If the situation presents itself we might even be able to dig so our follow up forces can enter the city easier. Doubtful considering the quality of the infantry we have.

>>2251189
Wanted to expand on my thoughts but phone posting sucks

>>2251199
>>2251189
We also need to consider our allies morale. If all we show up with is a few tanks it's likely they'll just break. If they see us with the Hogs and a couple of battalions they might be able to rally until our reinforcements arrive.

>>2251149
>Prepare the available forces to launch an assault; draw up lines from all available forces, and signal to the Iron Hogs to attack.

They are unbalanced, if we strike now while their focused solely on the the MHGC we can make good gains inside the city, possibly break them as well.

>>2251199
>>2251201
Agree with these anons. Aggression is key here while they are preoccupied.

Only concern is the street to street fighting, put our tanks at risk.

Commandeer any truck, vehicle transportation we can from Wossehnalia, hell put the guys on bicycles, whatever it takes to keep up with our armor.

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>>2251205
What the hell your not me.

>>2251208
Lol.

>>2251149
>>Prepare the available forces to launch an assault; draw up lines from all available forces, and signal to the Iron Hogs to attack.

We should restrict ourselves to securing the outskirts of the city and destroying their perimeter defences, but not try to capture the city itself yet. Once we've secured the area with our tanks it will suppress their ability to fortify themselves and also hopefully distract them from eradicating our allies in the city. Once the remainder of our forces come up we can send in the infantry to do what they're best at.

>>2251149
>>Prepare the available forces to launch an assault; draw up lines from all available forces, and signal to the Iron Hogs to attack.

>>2251149
>Keep in a defensive stance. You aren’t strong enough to dare to provoke a strong enemy attack upon you.

Guys we don't want to tip them off we're coming. One decisive overwhelming suprise attack is our only chance. For Tracht to go attack now is against everything we've been told by locke and company and is honestly pure hubris. Can we at least try to radio "high command" or something, ask for directions?

>>2251149
>Keep in a defensive stance. You aren’t strong enough to dare to provoke a strong enemy attack upon you.

Guys we don't want to tip them off we're coming. One decisive overwhelming suprise attack is our only chance. For Tracht to go attack now is against everything we've been told by locke and company and is honestly pure hubris. Can we at least try to radio "high command" or something, ask for directions?

>>2251149
>>Keep in a defensive stance. You aren’t strong enough to dare to provoke a strong enemy attack upon you.
Loch has a plan, let's trust the guy. He sent his agents, he and they must have considered this eventuality.

>>2252144
>>2252103
Do note that it's Loch's agents recommending that we do a feint at the very least.

>>2251149
>>Prepare the available forces to launch an assault; draw up lines from all available forces, and signal to the Iron Hogs to attack.

>>2252150
They don't know that our main force multiplier is basically out of commission. Imagine if we go ahead and our tanks are stranded en route or worse, within enemy range. How's that going to look to the defenders?
Loch is the strategist here. May I suggest that we send a motorcycle courier with a radio to make contact and give him an update. They should be in range in an hour perhaps. We can prepare the operation meanwhile so we are ready it we get the ok

>>2252188
Actually if we hehe enough radios, we can send them out and stagger them out at radio range and we could receive the reply much quicker.

>hehe
Nice autocorrect

We

Hold fast. Feint is coming.

After the final message was sent, a flurry of couriers were sent around the camps, informing what was there of the Army of the Republic that it was time to fight. A call of what senior leadership there was drew them to a quick briefing; while this assault would be perpetrated with all forces, save for those at the command post who would relay news back and forth when necessary, your target was of limited scope. Any outposts, fortifications, or sparse formations that were patrolling for whatever reason were of highest priority to attack. After all, this was meant to be a feint, and a probe. You had allies inside the city that were under great pressure, you explained to the tent of officials, and the aim of this operation was to draw away forces from the city center. Whether the forces drawn away would be engaged, remained to be seen. It was true enough that you could potentially be attacked by many more of the Death Heads than you could have predicted, but at the moment you had access to your most mobile forces, so you thought it would be a simple matter to disengage at will.

Of course, your infantry lacked mounts, though your budget panzergrenadiers could at least ride on the armor they were to accompany normally anyways. Every motor vehicle in Wossehnalia had already been seized to use in the mass movement operation. The motorcycles used by couriers hadn’t been donated to that cause, but with the lack of radio communications between much of the Republic’s forces, stripping the couriers of their transportation would have been an ill-advised idea. So the foot soldiers were to either ride or march.

The whole thing was incredibly discomforting to an officer educated on the importance of planning and superiority of firepower such as you. The planning had been slapdash and rushed, haste being the greatest priority, and there was no mighty Archduchy battle line supporting you and providing a firm wall to withdraw behind at signs of trouble, or to serve as a veil for your strongest forces to move about to the weakest sections of an enemy line. Merely the 1st Armored Battalion, and the White Eyes Battalion, a force dwarfed by what could potentially spring from Todesfelsen.

On the other hand, the scent of glory was dense in the current air. Did fortune not favor the bold? Arrogance and bravery were only a step apart, and it was a small comfort to think that the boons granted by swift action and stout hearts against an unprepared enemy would make the risks involved with this mission much less monstrous than at first glance. You would have the initiative, and the benefit of surprise; how would the Death Heads, even with their currently superior numbers, be able to predict what would happen, let alone react in proper fashion?

It would make you even more comfortable if the Iron Hogs were with you, but they could only reasonable attack from the north and east; practically opposite from you, though that would work in your favor in this case, to possibly split the foe further apart. The Hogs had told you they wouldn’t stick in a fight they wouldn’t win handily, but all that needed to happen for the plan to work was for the enemy to ease up on their attack on their rebellious factions.

All formations reported readiness in tolerable time, and time came to nervously look over your m/32s. The grim opinion of your mechanics had made you wary of taking the valuable machines out to anything but the main event; the platoon of tanks you captured was an option, and though you’d never operated custom-built modified copies of Netillian equipment, it wasn’t as if they were covered in Caelussian notation like the Blood Sun Twaryian gear; everything was in New Nauk, as was proper. The bigger concern was their lack of armor and comparatively pitiful armament. The armor was thin enough as to only be bulletproof, and the guns a mere hull machine gun and a 2 centimeter cannon, one that would be more readily found on a scout car or a fighter plane than a proper tank, in your opinion. There was also the matter of their radio equipment; two platoon lead tanks had survived, with proper transmitters in addition to receivers, but the other NfK-5s only had receivers. Two way communication was thus impossible, in comparison to your m/32s which all had good, modern sets, as well as your own command tank that had a powerful set indeed, by virtue of its need to communicate with company command in a normal operation.

There was also the unspoken matter of your standard tank having armor cursed with sorcery, which the new tanks doubtless did not have. The longer range guns were of course nice, but reports of a brewing dust storm blowing in from the south made close combat more and more of a possibility as time went on. It was good for the infantry, of course, but obstructions to visibility were not to your particular advantage.

>Risk the mechanical health of your own m/32s; you need their superior armor and armament (Requires passing medium difficult maintenance rolls)
>Transfer commanders of m/32s to NfK-5 turret types
>Transfer commands to the captured equipment, but keep your own command to an m/28 type instead of the NfK
>Replace elements of the tank destroyer platoon with captured equipment and replace your m/32s with m/28 tank destroyer custom types
>Other?

-----

Current “platoon” is three m/32-47, two m/28, and one T-15 type tank. The T-8 Self Propelled Gun captured in the mountains is also available, but unwieldly in close combat. The PzA-19 armored car is currently being used as a support vehicle for dismounted Bat Company troops. The m/32s are in a state of relatively severe mechanical distress, and even if the maintenance rolls are made, testing their limits is not advisable, as moving over difficult terrain or moving at speed will prompt a maintenance roll.

>>2252591
>>Replace elements of the tank destroyer platoon with captured equipment and replace your m/32s with m/28 tank destroyer custom types

>>2252605
But keep our own m/32.

>>2252591
>Transfer commands to the captured equipment, but keep your own command to an m/28 type instead of the NfK

>>2252591
>>Replace elements of the tank destroyer platoon with captured equipment and replace your m/32s with m/28 tank destroyer custom types

There was more than a bit of discontent and grumbling about your decision to transfer tank destroyer conversions of m/28s to your platoon to replace your m/32s; the panzerjager platoon had considered it a point of pride that they were trusted to operate the new and relatively valuable vehicles, and though they gave up two of their vehicles without objection, a fair share of complaining floated around without bothering to conceal itself in your presence. Well, yours were the trained soldiers and crews, after all, and you would be able to make the best use of them.

However, you wanted to use your own m/32, if at all possible. Its special traits made it more than just a piece of equipment to you. Far too valuable to risk capture or destruction yet too useful not to go into battle, you peered over the tank hopefully as your mechanics doted upon it, coaxing it to start.

>roll up to three d100s, best of 3. Roll under DC 50.

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>2253354

magic or not, here it comes

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>2253354

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>2253354

>>2252591
>Replace elements of the tank destroyer platoon with captured equipment and replace your m/32s with m/28 tank destroyer custom types

I'd rather ride or die with the rest of the /32 commanders in the Death Head clown cars but we really do need a send/receive radio in case things go wrong (Hint: They will.) So we'll take a lead Nfk as ours.

They are still in Death Heads colors correct? It should add even greater confusion to the enemy if members of their own band are attacking supported by the Republic and Iron Hogs.

Hopefully it will get them to trust each other even less than they currently are.

>Other?
tanq how are the m/28s maintenance wise?
Could we set some signals via different colored flares? Just very basic attack/maneuver/retreat commands. Especially with a dust storm coming.

>>2253421
>They are still in Death Heads colors correct? It should add even greater confusion to the enemy if members of their own band are attacking supported by the Republic and Iron Hogs.

The turrets have been hastily painted and marked. Ultimately, due to really having no time to dry, they'll be best distinguished by being around Republic vehicles.

>how are the m/28s maintenance wise?
They've certainly seen better days, but m/28s, despite being older, are a much more durable design when it comes to mechanical wear and tear, so they aren't suffering from anything out of the ordinary.

>Could we set some signals via different colored flares? Just very basic attack/maneuver/retreat commands. Especially with a dust storm coming.

You can if you want; they'd have been prearranged. Courier communications are the main course of complex commands, though, of course.

The engine coughed, sputtered, but grumbled to life nevertheless, waking with the mood of one not allowed a proper respite. Machinery churned inconsistently, threatening to die back down several times before a loud clunk came from deep within, and the engine assumed a more familiar sped.

>m/32 speed reduced to half; while full speed can be made in an emergency, this runs the risk of a breakdown. Platoon will slow to compensate unless otherwise requested to. Cross country ability has also been affected; avoid going over great changes in elevation, not that those are common in the local landscape.

“Well,” the elder of the two mechanics wiped his brow with an oily sleeve, cursing as he realized what he had done, “You remember what I said, right? No pushing it, not unless you…well, unless you want to actually push it.”

“Of course,” you replied brusquely, “Will the others be..?”

“We’ll keep trying,” the junior mechanics said brightly.

“Don’t expect much, though,” the elder was still pessimistic, “There’s only so much that adjustments and lubricant and cleaning can do when the thing needs a rebuild.”
You thanked them nevertheless, and got the platoon organized. Von Metzeler was stoic as always concerning his reassignment, while Von Walen, rather than showing any frustration, had fallen into wistful lamentation.

“All I need is a couple more tanks swept out from under me,” Von Walen had grumbled as you shared the news, “and I’ll be a reverse-ace. Damn it all.” He hadn’t shown any belligerence towards you for your decision, so you didn’t mind his idle complaints.

Despite their grumblings, the change in equipment for the tank destroyer platoon had resulted in them receiving a tank with a proper transmitting and receiving radio; a rare boon among Republic vehicles. The other former platoon command vehicle had been leased to battalion commander Hiedler for use by a second in command. Though Hiedler’s vehicle had been one of the few to have a radio, he certainly appreciated receiving a spare vehicle with a transmitting set.

The philosophy of concentrating firepower meant that your platoon, the tank destroyer platoon, and what was present of Honnrieg’s Bat Company (with an armored car in support) formed a heavily reduced company of sorts. Bat Company’s two squads clambered onto your vehicles, a fire team each onto four vehicles, exempting your own. Each fire team was loaded down with heavy weapons and ammunition for them, with flamethrowers stashed hastily inside of the PzA-19; their machine guns and antitank rifles made them far more fearsome than the other Republic soldiers, despite being garbed nearly identically, only differentiated by blue armbands that not so subtly hinted at their nation of origin to you and your fellows.

This only left a pair of matters to be decided. That of movement speed of the units, and a more personal choice; with the capture of a total of three Death Heads officers over the course of your adventure, you had found yourself the owner of three heavy steel sets of Ellowian Cuirasses. In sparse use with the Ellowian army by Stormtroopers and machine gun crews, these cumbersome single piece breastplates, despite looking like the armor worn by a cuirassier of a century past, were supposed to be proof against pistol rounds and ballistically similar shrapnel.

>Have your troops move with one another; the mechanized forces will match speed with the foot troops, as to not isolate one from the other.
>Have the mechanized forces move at their speed, outpacing the foot troops but ultimately reaching the front sooner.
>Other?
Also
>Distribute the Cuirasses. While Strossvalder military theory is disdainful of body armor due to its weight and dubious effectiveness against rifle rounds and artillery, no frontline soldier would ever turn down extra protection when fighting was just over the horizon.

>>2253485
This is a hard call, on the one hand the sooner we get their the more people we can help save but splitting up will both isolate the groups in case of trouble and make coordination that much more difficult.

>Have your troops move with one another; the mechanized forces will match speed with the foot troops, as to not isolate one from the other.

Speed doesn't help if we get picked apart and to be honest the Strossvald Battle Line doctrine of tanks supporting the army is all Richter knows so far. That and the m/32 ain't going very fast anyways. This is going to be the slowest mechanized feint ever.

>Distribute the Cuirasses:
Honnreig, the leader of the Republic soldiers here and uh...someone else.

>>2253485
Distribute the Cuirasses to our assault team leaders

In this situation, mechanized transport is whoever can stow away on the backs of the vehicles?

If so move as a group.

Otherwise, have our mechanized elements race ahead, disgorge their compliment and return to the following up forces to repeat.

>>2253786
Supporting

>>2253786
To specify Richter's education on the subject of doctrines, though the overwhelming majority of Strossvald's armies use the Battle Line, and most officers are expected to, the idea of an independent mechanized force isn't unknown to them. The Silver Lances division for example is a rare formation that utilizes a fully mechanized and independently operating doctrine; mostly out of necessity, since they act as an expeditionary force to allied factions much of the time, and thus don't have the luxury of the battle line most officers are comfortable with.

Being a bit of a Silver Lances fanboy (as well as a Reich military doctrine fan, but nobody gets told that), Richter would know of the concept of breaking the fast force from the slow and utilizing exploitation tactics, but he would be far from well practiced or confident in using them.

>>2254100
What percentage of the infantry can we carry on our vehicles?

>>2254129
All of Bat Company, and all of the Panzergrenadier troops. They won't be comfortable, and they won't be able to move independently quickly without hopping back on, but their numbers in proportion to armor are such that they can still move that way, even though it isn't ideal.

Beyond that there's scant room for anybody else to hop on in force. Some of the White Eyes could certainly tag along, but the amount would be few enough that it wouldn't really be worth splitting them from their battalion in the first place.

In summary, at present, you'd have the grenadier sections of the armored battalion (really more a mechanized battalion, but I digress) which form roughly a quarter of the platoons, and bat company, riding along in reasonable positions. More than that would be prompting a tactically unsound clown car situation, which while you're free to try, would be rather vulnerable and difficult to keep organized since many of the tanks really aren't built with mind for carrying passengers.

>>2253485
>>Have the mechanized forces move at their speed, outpacing the foot troops but ultimately reaching the front sooner.

We're not going into the city anyway so we shouldn't need the infantry unless something goes wrong. They can come up later once we've drawn the defenders' attention and start digging fortifications to continue to harass them from.

>>2253485
>>Have the mechanized forces move at their speed, outpacing the foot troops but ultimately reaching the front sooner.
Hopefully we can get some rear shots in while they're still distracted.

>>2253485
>>Have the mechanized forces move at their speed, outpacing the foot troops but ultimately reaching the front sooner.

>Distribute

>>2253485
>Have your troops move with one another; the mechanized forces will match speed with the foot troops, as to not isolate one from the other.

>Create an elite assault element of the toughest and baddest infantrymen, and give the cuirasses to them

Big fat update coming. Expect in a couple hours.

The armored chestpieces had been given to formation leaders; you had declined to take one yourself, trusting more in the armor of your tank, so Captain Honnrieg wore one cuirass, Hiedler, commander of the Armored Battalion another, and the final going to the commander of the White Eyes. One would have assumed this would have been Viska, but she had refused it; instead, it had gone to one of her aides. Whether this was a ploy to distract from who was actually in command, or if the man had great value as the executor of her commands, was unclear.

On the subject of the White Eyes, the plan decided upon required them to be left behind. Speed was the order of the day, and being foot troops, they couldn’t keep up even with the slowest of your mechanized equipment. The White Eyes would simply have to catch up later once the armored battalion and its mounts had secured a position; hopefully, the reaction of the Death Heads would be delayed enough to allow for this.

It was small comfort that the low speed mandated by your mechanics was about the speed of the allied guntracks anyways, as you announced the call to march. Nevertheless, despite the fact that your nerves themselves were steeled for battle, the section of your brain that thought instead of acting was cartwheeling over itself, reviewing its knowledge of history to think of events that you could draw theory from. Lower officers commanding formations larger than they were meant to was certainly not unheard of; in wars, even Junior Lieutenants found themselves acting in command of entire companies sometimes, two grades above what would be normal, in larger wars like the Emrean Liberation and the Valsten Civil War such situations were downright common, but never before had you heard of the circumstance of a Senior Lieutenant such as yourself in command of two battalions, almost a regiment; such was the domain of Colonels. Such a situation could only happen here, in Sosaldt, where one of your subordinate commanders in charge of said battalions had been a mere corporal in his past, while the other was a runaway slave girl with no rank whatsoever.

Hopefully the Death Heads’ superior stock of fighters would not be enough to make up for the chaos they found their organization in.

Itchy, cloying dust flooded the air as engines adjusted gears and the battalion lurched forward in a swarm of steel. In spite of your goggles and scarf, the dirt excavated by the storm of treads soon smeared itself across you, painting both you and your tank with the beige and maroon hues of Sosaldt’s earth. With your place just behind the first line of the formation, even wiping your goggles clean every minute was of little help; the game was now of following silhouettes, and attempting to spot terrain through thick clouds of dust through which dimming sunlight filtered, though it was barely near midday. Over the bubbling of your engine, you could hear your Bat Company passengers sometimes rend the air with racking coughs, as some gulped mouthfuls of the foul air, a blend of petrol exhaust, oil smoke and dust clouds, through face coverings that were suddenly lacking.

On your way forward, beyond the limit of advance of your previous patrol, you spied the confusing sight of a small plane, floating towards you from high above. A spotter plane? In Sosaldt? The ground in places was flat enough to take off and land on in places, certainly, but it was still a surprise. Bold blocks of black and white identified it as property of the Death Heads, and the crackling of undisciplined anti-aircraft rifle fire resonated through the moving battalion. With little training in such actions, the aircraft simply turned away, seemingly unharmed. The kickup from the mass movement would have told of the size of your force all by itself; that the aircraft had been fired upon by troops on armor would have said everything the observer needed to know. All there was that could be done, was to attack in haste before the information had a chance to disseminate.

POOM, POOM, POOM, POOM

The booming of automatic cannons suddenly split the relative calm.

“Off! Off!” shouted Honnrieg, his orders repeated quickly by the team leaders elsewhere as your tanks halted and let them go; as planned upon meeting contact. Your orders had been clear; any enemies met would be engaged as soon as able. There would be no formal declarations, warnings, or pussyfooting about. A hard and fast strike, as befitting a panzer force, was the only way onward.

Clouds of dust were replaced with the white smoke of cannon fire being traded, and visibility only improved by a little as you commanded your forces to continue pressing forwards; the enemy, though sounding sparse, was on slightly elevated ground that you needed to take.

A harsh clang erupted in front of you, and the pieces of steel whizzed in front of your tank as an anti tank projectile flew past the front lines and shattered itself on the mantlet of your tank.

“Targets, sir!” Stein requested loudly over the intercom, though you had nothing to tell him. Instead, your driver was urged forward, and you signaled for all your forces to press forward; distance was your enemy against fortifications, and while the frontline laid down fire, the second would drive past, supported by the fire of their fellows as the dangerous gap was closed.

Almost as quickly as the cacophonous melee had started, however, it had ended. The outposts you had just assaulted had been lightly manned, and were overrun with relative ease as the enemies had fled within minutes of being fired upon; when your forces arrived at the dugouts, they found naught but sparse dead and abandoned supplies and weaponry, which were greedily turned towards the city in the distance. Casualty reports had already begun to arrive from you from the leadership, and though none had been forces under you, it was a grim warning of what was to come. One tank knocked out, two more damaged, two killed and ten wounded. For an attack as broad as this was, two companies broad and two deep, it was certainly a light toll, but still…

Spirits were high in spite of how simple and easy this early victory had been, and though the handling of turning the former defenses around and looting what could be taken was sloppy and needlessly slow, you were soon enough charging forward once again, seeking another set of outposts to lay to waste.
Steadily the realization came that, somehow, this was enjoyable. The feeling of the enemy driven effortlessly before you, taking of ground, of winning with no loss; many a time had you both been regaled with tales of glory while also intimidated with portents of the horrors of war, but you’d never expected quite this feeling of…it was difficult to describe it as anything but invincibility, but part of you knew what it truly was- hubris. Something that, judging from the reports of your allies, few but yourself and your group from yonder west recognized as discipline visibly deteriorated, haughty Republic troops carrying themselves entirely differently under the weight of newly acquired trophies.

A second set of outposts was trashed as your group moved laterally, opening a gaping hole in the perimeter of Todesfelsen to potentially admit more allies. Finally, to finish the wedge pointing towards the foe’s stronghold of a city, the armor battalion had one last target. The area around an old quarry, which Anya had derisively referred to as “The Gash.” With gun positions up and down the long, snaking trench the lay within a shallow hill and a garrison to keep it in good repair, the whole set of forts and trenches (though most forts were either well disguised huts, or simple just huts) watched over a road that you had actually passed down before, in a van instead of a tank. The Gash, as it was rudely called, had not called attention when you’d seen it before. The guns had been hidden cleverly, and with the added danger of mines that blocked flanking approaches, it was plenty sufficiently armed to watch over the road that served as one of Todesfelsen’s arteries. A blood vessel you hoped to sever and in doing so attract the full attention of the Death Heads.

With information about the fortifications sowed through your troops, though, this place seemed like an excellent one to turn into your own fortress against the enemy. A full mechanized company would be assaulting the Gash itself, while two others would sweep around it, isolating it from its flanks and securing your eventual line of defense. The second company would accomplish this by taking a strongpoint overlooking the quarry, while the other would sweep around the less fortified flank and cut off road access at a former quarry housing complex while watching for reinforcements. The fourth would lay in reserve, hopefully, avoiding battle unless absolutely necessary, though most likely eventually helping the east flanking force surround the area. This tactic was quite basic, and drawn up quickly, but it was simple to execute and was a plan, which made it near perfect at present.

File: tcq_battleofthegash1.png (275 KB, 1400x1200)

275 KB PNG

The only matter that you personally needed to address was which prong you would join with your platoon, the tank destroyers, and bat company. The two Iron Hogs Tank Destroyers were also in reserve; you hoped to keep them somewhat of a secret until they were needed, since you doubted that they would be needed in the initial step of this operation.

>Take up the prestigious task of assaulting the Gash directly; dangerous, but what was glory without danger?
>Go with the east flank in sweeping around and cutting off any reinforcement and lines of communication; an easy task, with little fighting expected from the sparse outposts.
>Head to the west flank, where a network of trenches and small bases formed a large outpost from the main fortifications in the quarry; a higher place from the rest of the terrain, it could be utilized as an important base of support by fire.
>Remain in reserve; this was still the easy part, and you needed to save your best for later.
Note that the size of the garrisons are practically a guess; you have no idea how many people are holed up around each area, but the current things are a pessimistic maximum; being a reduced platoon, a reinforced platoon, and a reduced section.
Also, as far as the map goes, the balls with crosses are minefield locations, the lines with crosses at ends are trenches or similar earthworks, and each color change lighter or darker is a general elevation level up or down. Though the area is generally flat, an elevation level down is considered to give hull down cover, while two level difference generally hides mech units. Infantry is hidden by one level of elevation difference.

>>2255453

It really is a shame Emma couldn't be here. Damn bullshit wizard shenanigans!

>Head to the west flank, where a network of trenches and small bases formed a large outpost from the main fortifications in the quarry; a higher place from the rest of the terrain, it could be utilized as an important base of support by fire.

My reasoning being once we take the high ground we'll be in a fantastic spot to both to see the battlefield and issue any change in orders and help with the main attack. Getting shot to shit from behind will hopefully cause the Death Heads to lose any eagerness to continue defending.

While we probably have the heaviest tanks (barring the Iron Hogs elsewhere) to withstand enemy fire but I don't think we'd do too well rushing the trenches directly, although I'm worried that the strongpoint also has trenches. We're going to have to rely on Bat Company to clear them out adequately unless we want to use our tanks to wreck the shit out of the entire structure.

Sorry, I'm going to be annoying but I have questions:
Do we have smoke to utilize?
I forget, did Bat Company have any mortars with them?
How easy is it for them to use those flammenwerfers against the trenches/bunkers?
Will ascending these hills be difficult for out tanks?
How close are we assuming the minefield is to the hill in regards to circling around it?

>>2255453
>>Head to the west flank, where a network of trenches and small bases formed a large outpost from the main fortifications in the quarry; a higher place from the rest of the terrain, it could be utilized as an important base of support by fire.

While I would love to spearhead the assault, with us having the heaviest assets, the rapid change in elevation along the main attack path would probably stall out our vehicles.

Atleast with 3, its a straight shot and puts us in a position to deny the "gash" of additional reinforcements. From there we can whittle them down slowly through attrition, while we wait for our foot assets to arrive.

>>2255742
Sorry I'm blind, I read path 3as option 3.
I'd still like to attack the eastern flank but if it will result in a tie attack the west flank

>>2255732
>Sorry, I'm going to be annoying but I have questions:

Please, questions of all sorts are always welcome.

>Do we have smoke to utilize?
Yes, in several forms. Smoke grenades that can be tossed around (the wind is blowing north-northwest, bringing a dust storm along in some time from the south), as well as smoke shells the T-15 in your platoon has for its 7.5cm gun.

>I forget, did Bat Company have any mortars with them?
Tragically, no. However, somewhere among the mob of tanks is the T-8 with the 15cm gun. It's a rather frighteningly good bunker buster, in theory, though the theory of a 150mm gun being able to blow up whatever it points at is rather lacking in opposition.

>How easy is it for them to use those flammenwerfers against the trenches/bunkers?
They'd have to get close, of course, but these fortifications are hardly a hardcore sort with few apertures or walled with a meter thick of concrete. Once they get in range to use the flamethrowers, it'd be not much trouble to douse the targets with burning slush.

>Will ascending these hills be difficult for our tanks?
The single elevation level changes on the map won't be too bad for the m/32, but going up two levels would push things as to require a dice roll unless one purposely went slowly and also tangent to the slope.

>How close are we assuming the minefield is to the hill in regards to circling around it?
To the north? The assumption is that they go right up to the rough general change in elevation, possibly even slightly up it. For the center line, it was assumed by the crass young woman who told you about these that they didn't extend far past the defillade in the ground. Same with the bottom; the mines are beyond the depressions in the earth.

>>2255453
>>Head to the west flank, where a network of trenches and small bases formed a large outpost from the main fortifications in the quarry; a higher place from the rest of the terrain, it could be utilized as an important base of support by fire.

>>2255453
>>Head to the west flank, where a network of trenches and small bases formed a large outpost from the main fortifications in the quarry; a higher place from the rest of the terrain, it could be utilized as an important base of support by fire.

One question: Do we have any idea what this particular garrison has in term of equipment? AT guns,artillery, dug in tanks etc.

>>2256525
>Do we have any idea what this particular garrison has in term of equipment? AT guns,artillery, dug in tanks etc.

Despite it being a fortification, according to Anya, the Death Heads never expected Todesfelsen to actually be attacked ever since the Iron Hogs stopped being the local movers and shakers, especially not by a republic army that, for all intents and purposes, appeared out of thin air. So it's a smattering of light guns such as 2.5cm and 3.7 cm AT, machine guns and maybe a couple or so middleweight field guns; 10cm at largest. There are some threats to your armor, but mostly the threats are greatest to your allies.

In summary it's certainly not enough to resist an attack of this scale for long, but it could still potentially be quite rough if things go poorly, especially considering that the worst fighting is yet to come and it'd be best for losses taken before then to be minimal.

>>2256543
Nice. Some more questions if you don't mind?
-So from what's happening so far, I'm assuming our plan for now is after taking the Gash we dig in and hold until our second wave arrives?.
-Do we have any idea what the Hogs are planning on the other side of town (objective etc.)?
-How far out are we from the city once we clear out the Gash? Are the few artillery pieces we have able to give fire support to the people in town?

>>2256572
>-So from what's happening so far, I'm assuming our plan for now is after taking the Gash we dig in and hold until our second wave arrives?.

That's about the size of it, and even from there, the plan currently is to dig in and draw out any reaction forces, ideally enough to severely reduce opposition to the rebels in the city. This plan, of course, is subject to change; if you wanted to keep driving on forward, for example, that's always an option, but the Gash is in the way regardless and it's the thing that's closest and would draw the most attention to take.

>-Do we have any idea what the Hogs are planning on the other side of town (objective etc.)?

Nope! They operate relatively independently, and they're doing what they were told as far as you know, which is raising hell while avoiding fights they can't win (the latter wasn't your order, but rather something they just do. Mercenaries are hardly a suicidal sort).

>-How far out are we from the city once we clear out the Gash? Are the few artillery pieces we have able to give fire support to the people in town?

The Gash is about four to five kilometers from the city proper. Once the pieces are dragged in, it's quite possible to do something like that, but radio contact with any place but the fort is practically nonexistent so it might not be expedient to fire on the city if significant collateral is to be avoided.

>>2255453
>Head to the west flank, where a network of trenches and small bases formed a large outpost from the main fortifications in the quarry; a higher place from the rest of the terrain, it could be utilized as an important base of support by fire.

>>2255453
>Head to the west flank, where a network of trenches and small bases formed a large outpost from the main fortifications in the quarry; a higher place from the rest of the terrain, it could be utilized as an important base of support by fire.
We have the best guns and gunners, after all.
Just be careful and not overstrain the engines.

>>2255453
>>Head to the west flank, where a network of trenches and small bases formed a large outpost from the main fortifications in the quarry; a higher place from the rest of the terrain, it could be utilized as an important base of support by fire.

Resuming in half an hour, though I won't be around for too long; I've got somewhere to be a few hours after that, and I don't know how late I'll be back.

Resolving to take the high ground yourself, you and your forces joined with the 2nd Company; 1st would assault the Gash directly, and 3rd would dash around the flank and cut off the whole complex, 4th company remaining in reserve.

According to Anya, the normal garrison of this place was rather few to resist the host arrayed against them, but a dug in foe was dangerous no matter their numbers. The best you could hope for was to catch them so off guard, that they would surrender before what appeared to be certain defeat. This was a willful discounting of Anya’s statement that the garrison of the Gash, due to the importance of that particular defense, had been taken over by one of the expeditionary forces when the politics with the Home Guard had cropped up, but the past successes of the day did nothing if not demand optimism.

Second Company, according to the quickly drafted plan, was to hide in a defilade until the other companies were in position to attack; then, every formation would make their maneuver at once, attacking the enemy in far too many places for them to concentrate upon. The key to an assault, after all, was to not allow an enemy to defeat the attackers in detail, and to utilize superior numbers to exploit weaknesses in a defense. Basic tactics.

Basic tactics, however, were easy to perform in a theoretical environment. On the battlefield, where the concept of friction reared its beastly head, many commanders in history had found themselves suddenly lacking.

While the prepatory positions were taken up, shots were exchanged with the distant defenders of the Gash. You’d have rather had the benefit of surprise, but if this was the way it was to be, then so be it. Your force was such that the enemy could hardly do much anyways.

“Companies say they’re five or so minutes until they’re ready,” Hiedler’s voice struggled to scratch its way to you in the defilade, despite the extension of the radio antennae, “We are-“ The Netillian corporal’s announcement was interrupted by a distantly familiar shriek.

A puzzling moment passed as you tried to figure out what it was. You knew what it was, you were sure- had heard it before, in training. Yet…

“Mortars!” One of Bat Company screamed, and all of the seasoned soldiers dove off of their mounts and flattened against the earth. A few gawking Republic soldiers stared at your cohorts, puzzled, until the first shell struck just moments before you could retreat into your turret…

Rolled 61 (1d100)

Funnily enough, your prevailing thought was how you’d managed to avoid being shelled by artillery throughout your term of service until now. The fear that veterans ascribed to artillery couldn’t have hoped to have taken hold with that sort of absence of experience.

Though, you began to get an idea of it when a falling shell burst with a crack in the platoon to your left, sending a shower of earth among them, surprised yelps from republic soldiers punctuating the strike. Cries soon afterwards spoke of injuries…not the last to come, as the shrieks of further shells pursued you down into the turret.

“Lieutenant,” you heard Von Neubaum drone, somehow still bored, “It seems we are being bombarded.”

>You couldn’t begin your attack until every element was ready; you would have to weather this bombardment. Have infantry hide under their tanks, and wait. Note that many republic tanks are open topped and thus not immune to mortar bombardment.
>What sort of fool would sit still under artillery attack? It was time to attack, now!
>You couldn’t sit still, nor could you attack; the only option was to withdraw, despite the potential delays that could incur.
>Other?

>>2257647
>>What sort of fool would sit still under artillery attack? It was time to attack, now!

#yolo

>>2257647
>>What sort of fool would sit still under artillery attack? It was time to attack, now!
SQUAD BROKEN
weathering the bombardment is going to completely ruin Republic morale. There is no way those men will be able to lie still during this. I wouldn't be surprised to see deserters if it gets worse

>>2257647
>>What sort of fool would sit still under artillery attack? It was time to attack, now!

Make sure our heaviest armor is first over since they likely have e guns pointed in our direction. With luck they still will be when the other elements begin their assault.

>>2257647
>>What sort of fool would sit still under artillery attack? It was time to attack, now!

The only thing you knew for certain after the rain began to fall, was that pulling up your hood and hoping for it to stop would be intolerable.

It took braving the hostile outdoors once more, but with a few short radio transmissions and waving of hands and improvised flags, the company began to move. It was with stops and starts; some soldiers had crawled under the tanks, and they had to be coaxed out while fire still streamed down from the sky. Startlingly close explosions and screams told you of the price you paid for this decision, but you were uncowed; the casualties from waiting would have been far greater.

This did work somewhat to your benefit, however, as you hastily explained to your officers over the radio, explaining yourself in case Maddalyn’s squeaky voice failed to inspire confidence.

“The first people over the crest are going to be pounded with all they’re able to point at us, so the first people over have to be the best armored. Which means our platoon, and more specifically, means…Junior Lieutenant Von Neubaum.” Von Neubaum commanded the monstrous T-15, a blocky assault tank of Twaryian origin that was even more thickly armored than your m/32B tank, albeit lacking the scribed gold dubbed the Armor of Fate. If any of the Republic’s vehicles could withstand the punishment from all of this base’s guns, it would be that tank.

“I’m glad to volunteer,” Von Neubaum’s thick sarcasm was unaffected by the rush of battle, you had found out to your displeasure; though he did not stall in following your commands, adjusting his position in the formation to the right, as to potentially cover the rest of your vehicles with the bulk of his own.

“Forward!” was your final transmission as your platoon surged forward. To your surprise, Bat Company was forming up around you. Their grit had always been impressive, but to not hide behind your armor like the rest of the Republicans were doing…either they lacked confidence in your armor, or they knew something you didn’t of combined operations, not that you were well experienced in close operations with infantry.

The m/32 groaned and protested even as you negotiated the defilade’s subtle slope, and Malachi muttered garbled profanities beneath, the clanking of adjustments to drive instruments being the only other sound than the tank’s struggling mechanisms in the speechless compartment.

To your right, as Von Neubaum’s T-15’s turret crept above, the searing whistle of shot blew all about, accompanied by the sound of shot clanging off of the T-15’s thick exoskeleton.
“Criminy,” Stein breathed, “That’s a lot of guns.”

“If it comes down to a competition of guns, they’ve picked the wrong contest.” You said flatly, peering through your cupola’s viewports, struggling to find the offending gun positions as your tank came over the top. “…Can you see anything?” You asked Stein this; while the gun’s sights were of little use in spotting outside of whatever the gun was pointed at, the gunner periscope had visibility nearly on par with your commander’s cupola.

“…Nah, it’s all dug down,” Stein observed unenthusiastically, “…no, wait,”

A crash against the turret’s mantlet rattled your teeth, though no harm was done besides that brief shake.

“There it is,” Stein pointed out a fresh plume of white smoke, the product of that slight against your armor. “…That’s a bad shot, commander. Practically flat against the ground. I guess we could take shots, but…” Stein, despite his complaints, busily laid in the gun, the turret shifting with minute adjustments as his hands busily cranked the small measures that the power traverse wasn’t subtle enough to make, “I’d have to be a damn lucky shot, otherwise, we’re stuck with showering them with the coaxial.” He said this, gripping a clutch of charms that had somehow expanded in quantity from the last time you’d seen them withdrawn from your superstitious gunner’s breast.

This would have been a hair simpler if Maddalyn was capable of shooting the bow gun. Unfortunately, she couldn’t look through the aiming glass of the 13mm machine gun port, even if she knew how to operate the weapon. Her special eyes were incapable of seeing through even transparent barriers.

>If it’s a difficult shot, then there’s nothing to do but advance until it isn’t one. Keep the company heading forward.
>Hard shots are better than nothing. Lay down fire while the rest of the company moves under your cover.
>You didn’t have to close or fire, not just yet. If you had everybody toss out all the smoke they had, you could create a thick cloud that would conceal your advance, as the wind blew the smoke northward and screened not only the edge of the defilade, but your line of advance.
>Other?

>>2257818
>>Hard shots are better than nothing. Lay down fire while the rest of the company moves under your cover.

>>2257818
>>If it’s a difficult shot, then there’s nothing to do but advance until it isn’t one. Keep the company heading forward.

Save our shells, lay down fire with to coaxial I keep forgetting if coaxials exist on our tanks

>>2257818
>Hard shots are better than nothing. Lay down fire while the rest of the company moves under your cover.

“Whatever you can take, it’ll have to do,” you told Stein. High explosive was already loaded; you hadn’t arrived here expecting armor anyways, but if it was similar armor to what you encountered earlier it wouldn’t have mattered. “As soon as you’re on target, fire.”

“Already on the way,” Stein rubbed a charm with his thumb, “Firing!”

A thump announced the explosive round being sent flying towards its target. It was a good thing, you thought, that you could angle your armor properly against the breadth of the enemy fortifications, in addition to the cover granted by the T-15. You weren’t particularly interested in testing whether or not the Armor of Fate covered more than the frontal arc.

>Roll 1d100, DC roll under 20 to hit, -10 modifier for gunsights and accuracy. Not doing any fancy deviation or pictures for now, to make up for shortage of time
>First roll will be for your tank, any further rolls I'll add at discretion for the rest of the platoon, if you want. Due to the small size of 25mm fragmenting projectiles, hits with those require extra precision.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>2258180

The shot had little distance to travel, and the tracer was visible only shortly before the end of its journey was marked with a cascade of earth, just below the target, which you yourself could only barely see; its gun shield was steeply angled and covered in some sort of camouflage, rendering it nearly invisible, had it not been shooting.

“Damn,” Stein grumbled, making a minute adjustment, “You want me to try with the coaxial?” Stein had to ask this since the coaxial machine gun was slaved to the main cannon; you were still far away enough that adjusting position for the coaxial would necessitate re-aiming if the main gun were to be used again.

>Do it, we won’t be hitting it much at the angle it’s at, anyways. It’s good enough simply to suppress them as much as we can.
>No, cannon shells are as good as bullets if they’re just flying, and with the cannon we can actually destroy it.
>Have a crew member switch places with Maddalyn; you’re stationary anyways, and respectably level. Firing with the 13mm on the same target will require reangling the tank, however, since the bow gun has a limited arc.
>Other?

>>2258250
>Do it, we won’t be hitting it much at the angle it’s at, anyways. It’s good enough simply to suppress them as much as we can.

20 is too steep, besides if we actually want to blow it up it'd better to use the T-15

>>2258250
>>Do it, we won’t be hitting it much at the angle it’s at, anyways. It’s good enough simply to suppress them as much as we can.

>>2258250
Do it, we won’t be hitting it much at the angle it’s at, anyways. It’s good enough simply to suppress them as much as we can.

>>2258250
>>Do it, we won’t be hitting it much at the angle it’s at, anyways. It’s good enough simply to suppress them as much as we can.

If we're having trouble getting due to the angle, can we bring up the SPG? it should be able to arc it's shells over.

>>2258250
>>Do it, we won’t be hitting it much at the angle it’s at, anyways. It’s good enough simply to suppress them as much as we can.

Rehearsal's about over, will be back soon.

“Do it,” you nudged Stein reassuringly, “we won’t be hitting those much at the angle they’re at, anyways. Suppressing them with the MG is good enough.”

Stein nodded and adjusted the turret and sights; soon enough, the machine gun’s bolt was chattering in the right side of the turret, being fired by an automatic lever, spitting hot brass into the catch bag at its flank.

“Bat Company car, respond,” you said over your “platoon” net, “Where’s that self-propelled gun? The huge one.”

“Aye, coming up,” was the response of a Bat Company NCO trusted with the armored car, “Cap reckoned it was too soft skinned to lead the pack.”

That much was true. “If you can go and get it up a bit sooner, do it,” you told them, “I need that gun firing as soon as it can.”

The T-8 SPG, with its impressive 15cm field gun, had been staffed with Republic crewmen. The cannon was so massive it practically buckled the chassis of the little tank, but such firepower on that small of a vehicle had an obvious price; its armor was practically nonexistent, paper thin as the tanks you had captured, and with potentially much more volatile ammunition. Even in your much better armored tank, it wasn’t comfortable to think of it going up close by to you.

Your tank and Von Neubaum’s T-15 continued to suffer abuse in the moments that passed while the rest of the company crested the top of the depression, surging forth for the hilltop outpost. While the heavy Twaryian armor had soaked up much of the hits, the enemy soon diverted their attention from the heavy plated creature once the obviously less substantial Republic armor came in droves.

Rolled 6, 4 + 2 = 12 (2d6 + 2)

The enemy fortifications’ guns tore into the lightly armored vehicles, sensing much more fruit in assaulting their softer skins.
>2d6 minus 2 for suppression

Rolled 6 (1d8)

The left flank of the Republic armored assault of the 2nd company came under withering fire; you could only hope that the armor piercing shot over penetrated like it had against the Death Heads earlier.
>roll for disabling hits out of total hits

>>2258912
>>2258910
Well that sucks, though I'm not surprised.

A couple of the fragile Republic tanks soldiered on even after being struck, evidently by small projectiles, but a disheartening amount began to slow and stall, steam and smoke spewing from stricken engines, spinning on broken track and suspension, or suddenly stopping, their crew bailing out. Small mercy that most lacked radios; panic failed to spread through the formations…yet.

The T-8 SPG rolled up next to you.

“What needs to die!?” its commander called out to you. A brusque pointing to your objective received a curt nod, then a call to fire…

>Roll 1d100, DC 40 roll under. Keep in mind a slim failure might still accomplish something.

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>2258919

Making it rain something

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2258919

Rolled 98, 99, 51 = 248 (3d100)

The cannon’s blast shook the air, and you barely had time to cover your ears; they still rang as peered overtop the cupola, and watched one of the shabby block huts explode into splinters, obliterated by the heavy gun, just before a cloud of dust and smoke washed over you from the aftereffects of the howitzer firing.

“Too high!” you heard made out. They were right; the shot looked pretty, but little else as far as the entrenched defenses were concerned.

Naturally, the enemy guns had a new priority target after that, though their shots were certainly rushed, panicked by the magnitude of the new attack.

>enemy DC to hit is roll under 20

The shots went far and wide; none even coming close to the self-propelled gun, though you had remained holed up in your cupola nevertheless. The massive explosion had brought a strange calm to the butchery taking place among your friendlies; a merciful reprieve, presumably as the foe tried to identify where the massive shot had come from; the scattered tracers from the earlier counter fire appeared to have confused the other enemy gunners, from what you could guess.

“Fire!” The Republic crew finally finished reloading, and the cannon shook the ground once more as the little vehicle carrying it was bucked back, almost rolling back down the slope.

>Roll 1d100, DC 70 roll under.

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>2258930

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>2258930

Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>2258930

File: tcq_battleofthegash2.png (240 KB, 1407x1204)

240 KB PNG

The cloud from the first shot hadn’t quite cleared, but just before the second storm of smoke and dust blinded you, you spied a shell crashing directly into a barely visibly trench; a gun and its carriage were carried into the air from the force, as well as the gruesome sight of several other, flailing pieces. Cracks and bursts from the stricken part of the fortifications signaled of an ammunition box’s contents violently exploding as a secondary effect of the hit, and the gun crew allowed themselves a loud cheer in celebration.

While some guns were being laid back upon the ever advancing company and firing, your heavy gun had obviously drawn attention; it was only luck that it hadn’t been hit. On the other hand, it was far too useful a tool to simply let it retreat to safety…right?

>Order it back down; useful as it was, there was only one of it, and thus was precious enough to risk losing more of the Republic’s relatively cheap armor.
>Keep it up, and firing; let the crew earn their salt, so that their fellows could live to earn theirs as well.
>Other?
Current map of the situation. The republic tanks will have to endure one or two more rounds of fire, potentially, depending on how well you can distract the enemy or destroy them. From estimates, there are approximately six gun positions firing upon you; now five, though more may turn to face you, potentially.

>>2258948
Also of note, the infantry accompaniment is considered part of each formation; though normally they'd be separate, without their vehicles, they're considered subordinate the the armor, since they can't move quickly without them anyways, so the normal platoon of republic panzergrenadiers is split among the three armor platoons...though one platoon doesn't have much left of it.

Losses are six so far, three from third platoon, two from second, and one from first, though the "losses" in this case don't necessarily mean "destroyed" or even "knocked out," but definitely do mean "not moving forward any more."

>>2258948
>>Order it back down; useful as it was, there was only one of it, and thus was precious enough to risk losing more of the Republic’s relatively cheap armor.

We should start laying down smoke to cover our advance.

>>2258959
Supporting

>>2258959
Supporting

“Get back down!” you shouted to the still spirited crew; though they looked surprised at your urgency, they obediently backed down-speeded along as a shell whizzed overhead their vehicle. After a request to make sure you were on your platoon net still, you addressed Von Neubaum. “I need smoke on that position we just shelled. Our tanks are getting shredded, and those guns need to be blinded.”

“Fine,” Von Neubaum said, still monotone. “One instant cloud, brewing up.”

“Commander,” Krause crackled onto the net, “Lieutenant Von Metzeler noticed a gun position to our eastern bearing. Von Igel and I have passable armor; shall we move to dispatch it? Our light guns are accomplishing little towards our primary target, the range and firepower are too great and too little for effective shelling of that sort of position.” Von Metzeler was tragically without a radio, with his reassignment to a former tank destroyer, though apparently he could still signal to his neighbor well enough without. Speaking of, the tank destroyers had still not made too great of a showing of their potential; like most of the other tanks, they had been finding shots on the dug in positions quite difficult, though the fire was beginning to do work of reducing enemy fire nevertheless.

Krause and Von Igel both crewed m/28s; lighter tanks, to be certain, but also resilient enough against the 2.5cm guns the Death Heads used. It would be a gamble, though, if that sort of gun was being used to the flank. On the other hand, that gun appeared to be on your level, and thus much easier to attack.

>Roll a d100 for smoke shot effectiveness
Also
>Approve of Junior Lieutenants Krause and Von Igel’s side mission, and have all other tanks remain in support of the continuing attack.
>Disapprove; keep your tanks safe in the depression and continue to provide support by fire.
>Suggest you go to deal with it instead, and order the rest of your tanks forward.

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>2258995

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>2258995
>Approve of Junior Lieutenants Krause and Von Igel’s side mission, and have all other tanks remain in support of the continuing attack.

>>2258995
>>Approve of Junior Lieutenants Krause and Von Igel’s side mission, and have all other tanks remain in support of the continuing attack.

The smoke shell that was fired from the T-15 was one of the most bizarre hits you had ever seen. The shot visibly skipped on the ground, breaking up partially, then continuing to burst as it flew forward; the result was a thick, long cloud of smoke that nearly covered the entirety of the outpost’s firing arc upon your company.

“Master gunnery, of course,” Von Neubaum reflected your thoughts but much more drily.

“…Yes,” you replied, “Krause, you have my permission to take up that task you proposed.”

“My thanks, Lieutenant Von Tracht.” Krause said back, before the two m/28s of your platoon turned course and went around back of you, streaming for the close gun position to your three o’clock.

The smoke cover was further laid down with a second shell, one whose path was not nearly as absurd as the first, but which nevertheless laid down even more thickly a fog of obscuring cover for your steadily advancing tanks, infantry following behind. Streaks of sparse anti tank fire still came over, but they were obviously not aimed for the company with how short they struck.

“We’ve earned the admiration of the eastern guns, methinks,” Krause said over the radio, unintimidated. It wasn’t intentional on his part, but you felt a need to congratulate him nonetheless; with the enemy guns to the east concentrated on him and Von Igel, the main component of the company you were with had stopped coming under accurate fire of any sort. The mauling they’d received earlier had been fierce enough that hope began to twinkle once more in your mind’s eye that you’d not made any great mistakes, as the company reached the slopes and began to crawl up them, infantry catching up and slowly spreading out among the armor, neither leg nor track stopping as they began to grope their way into the fading smoke.

Rolled 95, 20 = 115 (2d100)

Meanwhile, errant reports of your officer’s special mission began to filter through.
>roll 2d100, average up to three, for combat against the gun position; if rolls beat (roll under) the two enemy rolls above, the mission will succeed without an enemy shooting turn.

>>2259015
...Well, it's pretty hard not to beat now, but I meant to include that the rolls are combined when comparing.

Rolled 29, 30 = 59 (2d100)

>>2259015

Rolled 100, 77 = 177 (2d100)

>>2259015

>>2259015

Rolled 40, 29 = 69 (2d100)

>>2259015
Sorry.

Rolled 4, 6, 1 = 11 (3d10)

The reports, while disjointed, were positive enough for you to pop out of your cupola and watch, while you ordered your crew to reorient towards the east, in case any further positions needed your particular attention. From what you could observe through binoculars, the m/28s ran down the eastern gun position in the open with speed enough that it had difficulty adjusting for range, and it never got enough time to fire accurately; though a single shot from the Gash proper’s fortifications came far closer to your tanks than you liked to watch. Hails of inaccurate machine gun fire, shot on the move, were enough combined with the charge for the small group in the trench to pitch out of their fighting hole and sprint away.

The m/28s did not stop, and whilst the assault upon the hill raged, you watched the twin m/28s take position at the earthworks that they had driven the enemy from, but not before a pair of small explosions puffed from the dugout; grenades thrown from the tanks, presumably, just in case any daring individual had stayed behind, bomb or firebottle in hand.

The assault on the hilltop outpost was brief, but certainly brutal judging from the amount of fire coming from there, and a ragged looking courier soon buzzed on his cycle from the newly captured objective and fed you the casualty count.
>dice is casualties, of course. Final dice is further armor casualties, though since it definitely isn't d10 armor casualties, the final result will be eight subtracted from the last dice.

Rolled 8 (1d10)

Ten casulties; rolling for KIA

“Ten guys, commandant,” the nasally voiced biker relayed to you, “Eight dead.”

“Damn,” you couldn’t help but comment, but on the other hand, only eight casualties from the infantry in clearing out what could have been a bit less of a platoon…it certainly wasn’t a poor result. “Was it that bad?” You asked, still feeling the need to show your sympathy.

“Well,” the messenger sniffed and adjusted his scarf roughly, “So I saw, they usually got the first shot when we went in a hole or a hut, or even a pile of junk. Just sprayed people with subguns, see. All ours, so you know. Your guys got round late for the worst of it.”

“I see,” you replied, trying to hide your relief that Bat Company hadn't suffered. The hilltop was captured, though looking at your watch, it had been shockingly little time. If Lt. Colonel Hiedler’s guess was right, the maneuvers from the other two companies would be starting only just about now. Your objective, though messily taken, had been accomplished early.

>Go with the original plan of laying down support by fire; the only movement needed was to better man that position.
>You had an opportunity; leave half your remaining forces, and swing to strike the Gash from the flank at the same time 1st Company assaults it.
>Push past the objective and to the roads; perhaps you could link up with 3rd company as they pushed around, while leaving tank destroyers and other less wieldy vehicles at the support by fire on top of the hill.
>Leave the company there, and take your own platoon and its accompaniment to help another company’s task (Specify which)
>Other?

Last post for the night; I've been tired for a decent bit since getting back, will resume tomorrow, probably 4-5PM EST

Also to note (again...) this is just casualties from the hill assault; nobody's taken down notes on the particulars of the beating taken on the way there.

>>2259041
>>You had an opportunity; leave half your remaining forces, and swing to strike the Gash from the flank at the same time 1st Company assaults it.

They're likely to face even more resistance than we did. Bring up the SPG again and whatever mortars/AT guns we captured and pound the bastards.

>>2259041
>You had an opportunity; leave half your remaining forces, and swing to strike the Gash from the flank at the same time 1st Company assaults it.

>>2259041
You had an opportunity; leave half your remaining forces, and swing to strike the Gash from the flank at the same time 1st Company assaults it.

>>2259041
>>You had an opportunity; leave half your remaining forces, and swing to strike the Gash from the flank at the same time 1st Company assaults it.

>>2259041
>>You had an opportunity; leave half your remaining forces, and swing to strike the Gash from the flank at the same time 1st Company assaults it.

I'll be back and running after this short errand I've got to do so; in about an hour or so.

I would just suggest that we get on the radio and make damn sure 1st Company knows we're attacking from the flank so they don't think we're a reinforcing group of enemy armor or catch us in the crossfire by accident.

As stray shots continued to streak by, long, inaccurate potshots being taken from the Gash, you hastily had 2nd Company reformed at the outpost, the estranged crews of disabled tanks being collected and placed upon the freshly overrun defenses, moving the heavy weapons to point towards the main target of this operation; the quarry turned improvised base.

You inquired after mortars, hoping vainly that the bombardment earlier had come from the place you’d just taken, but the brief inventory turned up none; the mortars must have been tucked safely in the quarry, presumably at the bottom, where it would be near impossible for counterfire to attack them.

As 2nd company finished consolidating itself, your own platoon and the tank destroyers still near the shallow pit the assault had originated from, you made contact with the battalion command once more.

“Lieutenant Colonel,” you said, clearing your throat roughly after, “2nd Company’s objective has been taken. They’ll be supporting 1st Company’s assault on the Gash from there, both indirectly and directly.”

“I…see,” Hiedler responded uncertainly, “But…why am I hearing this from my commander, and not the company leader..?”

“…Never mind that,” you brushed him off. “I just want to make sure no friendly fire’s coming our way, especially if the dust storm comes early. Begin the other companies’ movements as soon as possible. Understood?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Hiedler was still caught off balance by the report, but the earnestness beneath that told you the attacks would soon be on their way.
It was true enough, using the relatively idle time (for how much skirmishing could be called idle) to think about the situation, that 2nd company had been ripped up by this attack, both its men and its vehicles, but it was understandable, taking on these sorts of defensive equipment with the sort of armor they had. Unavoidable, really. What mattered was that the battle was being won for now.

File: tcq_battleofthegash3.png (275 KB, 1400x1200)

275 KB PNG

One successive radio message after the other reported a company arriving, and then moving out. None were far apart from another, and you saw each one advancing from the relative height you had moved to in preparation for the next phase of the assault.

4th Company, according to the plan, was to remain in reserve instead of directly acting. With things as they were, you wondered, would it be better to change up that plan? Enfillading fire had certainly done a number on the company you had pushed forward with, but as the height was occupied and the Gash’s fortifications and outposts now under direct bombardment, it would be likely that 1st Company’s work wouldn’t be as difficult as your own had been, but perhaps it would be safer to commit everything nevertheless…

>Commit 4th Company; the extra effort would force the base to fall faster, and speed was of the essence.
>Keep 4th Company back; you needed a reserve, just in case of an unexpected situation.
>Other?
Also
>Commit your tanks to the flank assault, your presence would certainly be appreciated.
>Keep your platoon and the tank destroyers on the hill; the larger guns were better at range anyways.
>Other?

>>2260587
>Other
Send 4th Company to relieve the 3rd while they assault the Gash. That way we attack them from three sides while 4th Company stays in reserve while guarding the road.
>Commit your tanks to the flank assault, your presence would certainly be appreciated.

>>2260587
>Commit 4th Company; the extra effort would force the base to fall faster, and speed was of the essence.

>Keep your platoon and the tank destroyers on the hill; the larger guns were better at range anyways.

I'd say send our tank and the m/28's down to help but I dunno if our tank will survive mechanically any more strain.

Also if we stay up on the hill we'll be able to react to changes in the situation quicker than using a radio relay for our operational commands.

If worse comes to worse, we ourselves can drive down the hill towards any new enemy reinforcements as the acting reserve.

No point keeping the 4th a secret when they have planes and in a few hours there's going to be a lot more of the Republic boys marching in here.

>>2260587
>Commit 4th Company; the extra effort would force the base to fall faster, and speed was of the essence.
>Commit your tanks to the flank assault, your presence would certainly be appreciated.

If we're scared of our tanks breaking down we can leave the m/32s up on the hill while the rest assault.

>>2260587
>>Commit 4th Company; the extra effort would force the base to fall faster, and speed was of the essence.
>>Keep your platoon and the tank destroyers on the hill; the larger guns were better at range anyways.

By the way, which way is the road to city proper on the map? North or East?

>>2261305
They both can be taken to it, albeit different sections, but the direct route is the east one; this was the one you drove down for the first offensive on Maddalyn's face.

Also see if we can contact the fort again and see how the enemy in town is reacting to our feint.

>>2260587
>>Keep 4th Company back; you needed a reserve, just in case of an unexpected situation.
and
>Keep your platoon and the tank destroyers on the hill; the larger guns were better at range anyways.

The lesser tanks can move to attack, our platoon should be ready to meet any reaction force coming from the north while the 4th should be held incase they come from the east.

That big gun, if safe to do so, should move onto the reverse slope, ready to shell anything coming from the north.

>>2260587
>Keep 4th Company back; you needed a reserve, just in case of an unexpected situation.
Never commit reserves too early. What if the enemy recieves reinforcements, for example?

>Keep your platoon and the tank destroyers on the hill; the larger guns were better at range anyways.
It'll also serve as a security element.

Right, so apologies, but it looks like I won't really have the time to run today. I'll be occupied basically from noon til night; we'll see if I'm coherent enough to start the sequence I've got planned when I get out, but it'll be late enough that I'm not confident, so unless otherwise stated I'll probably not be updated today.

Also go ahead and shoot me if I ask for another two part tactical choice ever again because it's hard to decide what wins when votes that agree on one end don't on another. I'm probably just overthinking it and should just tally as normal, but that doesn't feel quite right, you know?

Whatever, when Sunday comes around I'll do that and quit stalling.

On the battalion network, you finalized your plan.

“Have 4th Company move forward,” you told Hielder, as well as the 4th Company captain who was listening in, “We’ll use weight of numbers to crush the Gash as quickly as possible. The sooner we win, the sooner we can lick our wounds and the more time we have before Todesfelsen reacts to our games here.”

No objections were made to this, as you expected. An important lesson in the academy had been that a proactive plan spoken with authority and confidence was the least likely sort to be resisted; not every officer had the capability to speak as such, but yours was well practiced.

The reason why wasn’t something you’d readily share, though. None other than your family needed to know about games of pretend in the past.

With the primary northern defenses of the complex dealt with and occupied, you felt confident in sending 2nd company to assault without you or the tank destroyers; you would remain at the outpost and support the attack with bombardment, while also keeping an eye out for any possible reaction forces from the north.

2nd Company’s captain wasn’t particularly thrilled at the notion of you staying behind with the strongest assets, but the logic of it couldn’t be debated. The larger guns were more effective weapons at range, as they had so unpleasantly found out upon actually attacking the place.

The cracks of rifle shot spinning past the outpost was ever present, but the range was such that the fire was inaccurate. A much more intimidating heavy machine gun had been brought up during the reassembly, and its loud report had spooked the company momentarily, but the lack of effective ranging combined with the fortifications quickly turned it into yet another noise.

As the final movements before the attack itself were finalized, you put yourself back in touch with the Fort in Todesfelsen, after feeding Maddalyn the proper frequencies. Being much closer than you were before, naval code was no longer needed, though the transmissions were still done in code for security’s sake; Maddalyn was terribly confused for a moment over what at first sounded like nonsense coming from the other end, but she dutifully relayed it nevertheless as you pored over the little booklet for terms with which to translate and reply.

Feint executed. Come far. We’re taking the base called the Gash now. Are you doing better?

We are fine, as ever. Rebel militia doing better. Good work. One leader sees you as opportunity, gathered two battalions and some more to him, plans to take you down. Capitalizing on prestige in a crisis. Intercepted communications as such, interviewed some prisoners.

Two battalions? What kind?

Armor. Infantry. Like your armor but better, also twice as many. Two battalions against one. Casualties?

Manageable. Assault not done. Think we could take them once we have position?

A pause, longer than normal. Then…

How many do you have?

The mech battalion, another of infantry coming up.

They know how many of you there are, and are coming out with all they can get. Recommend fleeing after taking position, draw them out. They are certainly aggravated enough to chase. Mechanized force too valuable to risk being destroyed before true battle.

>Understood. Will retreat after taking this.
>If they’re coming, what’s the point of attacking? We’re drawing back now.
>We can take them. What if they don’t follow us? We’ll hold out, we’ve got a fort and we have reinforcements coming. It’ll be fine.
>Other?

I'm not happy to say that I'll be gone for a while today too, and probably for the rest of the week I'll be having these things that last for like four or more hours from the noon. It's not a clusterfuck like yesterday though so I'll be continuing to run after I get back.

>>2265287
>Understood. Will retreat after taking this.
Take the Gash, loot whatever we can then bug out.

>>2265287
>Understood. Will retreat after taking this.

>>2265287
>Understood. Will retreat after taking this and blowing up the fortifications.

>>2265287
>>Understood. Will retreat after taking this.

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I am back now! That took longer than I expected but, well, yeah.

Anyways I'll probably update after I eat dinner, and see how much fighting we can get done tonight.

In the meantime, this is some...well I guess you could call them concept doodles, for when I have to know what shit looks like, I usually have at least one of these for whoever. Not everybody, but whatever. So these are (extremely) rough sketches for a White Eye and a Republic Trooper, along with what could tentatively be called the standard service rifle.

I'd rather share better things, but in order for me to devote better effort to a soldier, they have to be from an actual nationOr be a girl! Sorry Republic, but you don't count so you get a cruddy basic doodle.

>>2266578
Gay

To add on, if the White Eyes haven't caught up with us yet, we might as well tell them to withdraw first. That way at least there's less risk of our slower elements being cut off during the retreat.

>>2266578
Sounds about right for what I pictured Republic cannon fodder.

Easy solution though: Draw Viska.

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Understood. Will retreat after taking this. Will destroy fortifications if possible.

Your reply had scarcely been sent when the other party’s response came.

Do not linger.

Presumably a send off, and you treated it as such. Your next message was to Battalion Command, Hiedler, who had plenty of couriers to do the work needed next.

“Tell the White Eyes to start doubling back,” you told Hiedler, “We won’t be taking on the enemy here, or ideally, at all, without plenty of our own forces with us. We’re attacking until this place is ours, but we won’t be staying for the after party. Understood?”

Hiedler nervously gave you an affirmative, and you ceased transmission, turning your attention to the developing offensives.

The attacks were just about to begin, and your own vehicles were in position to bombard. You had your m/28s and the spare NfK-5ts from the tank destroyer platoon watching north for infiltration and reinforcements, but your big guns were all directed towards the Gash, ready to begin firing.

>Direct your forces to attack targets
>You have at your disposal One T-15, with a 75mm gun, one T-8SPG with a 150mm gun, your own tank with its 47mm gun, and four SPG type m/28s with 45mm guns.
>The white blocks are fortifications, of sorts; brick and mortar and concrete buildings, solidly build even if not designed to take cannon fire, and possibly hardened on the inside with earthwork or additional layering. You don’t know how tough they are; however, a single strike with the 150mm, for example, would put one out of commission, you wager. As a general rule, the 150mm is strongest, the 47/45mms are weakest with similar amounts of explosive in their HE shot, and the 75mm is in between, though the 150 is far stronger than 75mm.
>Also, if desired, the 75mm can attempt to lay down cover instead of bombarding with HE. However, be aware that since the wind is blowing north, it may blind your troops more than the enemy if you do so.
>As the attack goes on, there are turns of fire for each turn you take. Naturally, a destroyed fortification cannot fire. Thus, it may be best to concentrate fire to reduce the amount of outgoing fire from the enemy.
>Also, any other actions can be written in

>>2266652
But I'm already drawing Fie!

Also, I want to add, your own cannon could potentially be much more destructive if a certain sort of shell was utilized. May be somewhat of a risk, though, with an interested party in such nonsense potentially close by...

>>2266779
SPG to fire at 2; that way even with deviation we should be able to hit something. Rest of platoon split between 1 and 5.

>>2266779
Can all of our guns hit at this range?
Can we take a look with out binoculars at bunker 5 and figure out what's inside?

T-8SPG target bunker one

T-15 lay smoke at bunkers 4 and 2 and the infantry with the three pips so if it blows towards us at least it will also cover the bunkers between us.
Then maybe next turn we'll pair the two heaviest together to smack bunkers.
47/45mms target the infantry with the one pip.

>>2266779
Mossheads go home!

>>2266877
>Can all of our guns hit at this range?
Everything that's worth shooting with can, since it's decently inside effective combat range for the big guns; though the 13mm bow gun's most effective within 300 meters.

>Can we take a look with out binoculars at bunker 5 and figure out what's inside?

You can try; though you're not like to see much from the angle you're at on top of the hill. You'd mostly only see what's currently pointed at you, which...isn't much.

>>2266885
Ahem, I somehow read 4 as 5. Don't ask.

5 is easy to see. It's a couple machine guns and a light antitank gun, probably 25mm, though it's keeping a low profile. Likely a reserve earthwork.

Any estimate on how long we have before the enemy reinforcements arrive? Just wondering how rushed for time we are.

>>2266997
You'll likely have time to storm the place. Anything past that might be risky, depending on how cautious they are with their attack; sending out recon and such or otherwise poking around before launching everything they have into the fray.

>>2266779
>150m shoot position 1
>45mm and us shoot position 5
It has an anti-tank gun which is dangerous for our lighter armor.
>75 mm smoke positions 4 and 2
>Any available machineguns lay down suppressive fire on the 1 pip infantry

Are the Iron Hog TDs still with 4th Coy? If there are I'd think it'd be better to bring them up on the hill and have a pair of extra guns rather than commit them to the frontal assault.

Anyway in terms of who to shoot at supporting >>2267004

>>2267004
I'll change my 45s to this one

>>2267099
It's a bit late to delay everything to bring them up to the hill; in any case, they've been given decent autonomy so it's not like they're going to go in toe to toe where their vehicles are least effective anyhow.

I'll be updating within the next half hour or so. I'll have to peace out in about four and a half hours; my schedule's been figured out and for the most part the time being occupied is my evenings.

The call for the attack rang out over the battalion net, and clouds of dust blew forth, as though the wind itself was rising against your foe. Were it that you were so mighty, that you wouldn’t have to flee so soon after your victory here. Some would call it vain to proclaim a victory before it was in hand, but with the current tactical situation, it was as good as before you, waiting to be grabbed anyways.

Just before all of the Republic charged forth, the orders for your platoon and its accompanying tank destroyers had been given out, concerning which targets to bombard.

Your largest gun was to focus on a large building in the complex, ringed with defenses; a threatening position, though one with most of its armament, from what you’d observed from multiple angles, pointed to the south and west; it certainly hadn’t been arranged with the idea of defending from the north in mind, so from the north you would demolish it, to aid the attack from the south. In the meantime, your tank and the tank destroyers would concentrate fire upon a small position to the east that had the potential to threaten you, and Von Neubaum’s T-15 would fire obscuring munitions onto a pair of fortified buildings in the center and south of the quarry’s boundaries. It wouldn’t do much good for you, but if it were aimed right, the wind would blind those forts to any of your forces coming from the south, the main thrust of the offensive.

The boom of guns coincided with the start of the grand attack.

>roll 3 sets of 1d100 for larger guns’ attacks; your own attack on complex 5 will be handled after this.
>DC is roll under 40 for 150mm; success will inflict damage, and the lower the roll the better the degree of damage.
>DC for smoke bombardment is roll under 70. Rolling over determines degree of failure.

Rolled 48, 36, 28 = 112 (3d100)

>>2268381

Should have mentioned that the first is 150, and the other two are the 75 for 4 and 2 respectively. Oh well.

>>2268404
I feel cheated. You should take my third roll the 150mm. It's totally what I was rolling it for

The explosion of the 15cm shell against the building was impressive, certainly, you thought as you watched the effects of the initial bombardment, as shards of construction were sent flying about and a plume of smoke and dust covered the north face of the building, but the quickly clearing smoke indicated that all damage was superficial. A lucky hit, this was not.

Meanwhile, the smoke shells were near perfectly on target. The bursts of smoke from those created storms of opaque white fog that spread with startling speed around the enemy’s fortresses. The second round should have been ready to fire soon from the 15cm, but you had other matters to take care of at the moment.

Despite you and four other vehicles facing off against the forlorn, singular earthwork with a small gun buried in it, the gun and its crew still laid low, presumably hoping they hadn’t quite been spotted yet, intimidated by the mass of steel that had been arrayed before them. This fusillade would prove their wishing futile.

It was still a difficult target, no doubt, but this was five vehicles blasting away at one target. Surely even just one of you could strike it?

>Roll 5d100, DC 30 roll under

Rolled 55, 57, 3, 23, 55 = 193 (5d100)

>>2268424

Rolled 70 (1d100)

Of course, you had hoped that your vehicle’s shot would carry this particular engagement, but it was not to be. Your own shot was lost among the storm of explosions that churned the now smote dugouts; the only reason you knew your work was done was that one piece of debris of many that flew up, was the remnants of a 25mm gun, disassembling itself as it flew up before crashing down once more, rolling dejectedly down the hill. With it now clear that your ire was directed towards them, the defenders left in the earthwork scrambled away; they drew gunfire as they ran, but they were up for far too short a time for any significant hate and discontent to be flung towards them.

Satisfied with your work, you directed your forces to turn back to the south.

“Plenty of unfinished business there to take care of,” you had just finished saying, when a booming noise like your own mobile howitzer, albeit smaller, echoed from the south.

“It appears,” drolled Von Neubaum, “That they have at least one rather large gun indeed.”

It must have been one of the 10cm guns that Anya had talked about; it must have been oriented south, for it to only be firing now. A quick look with your binoculars summarized the developing battlefield, though not before your 15cm gun carrier cracked off another shell.

>Roll 1d100, DC under 40 again, same rules as last time.

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>2268447

Rolled 4, 1 + 3 = 8 (2d4 + 3)

More superficial damage, you noted as your lip curled itself slightly, another gaping hole torn in the building, a small gap in the rubble revealing a layer of sandbags and junk that belied how little grief the defenders of the construction had suffered as a result. A good hit on the roof would collapse it, you wagered, but from the way your 15cm gun was hitting that was too lucky to hope for, especially since you weren’t quite high enough for that to be as simple as a shot as it sounded.

With suppressive fire laid down on the visible infantry in the west trenches and smoke blinding two of the gash’s major fortifications, 1st and 4th company’s attacks pressed on with much less fire than one would expect. Arcs of tracers still flew over from shell and bullet alike, but you pridefully noted to yourself that only one 10cm gun seemed to fire, out of what was supposedly two.

Reports began to flow in through Battalion command of each company’s progress…

>Enemy attack dice are reduced from suppression and blinding; only three attacks are made upon 1st company, and five upon 4th. (2d4)-3, only up to three from first dice being applied to attacks against first company.

For your next action,

>Continue to provide support from the top of the hill
>There's not much your smaller guns can do for now; join the assault proper
>Take your smaller gun tanks, leaving behind the T-15 and the T-8 SPG, and push south to finish off the pinned enemies remaining outside the quarry proper
>Other?

>>2268486
Since the dice function doesn't like subtracting, it seems, it's not plus three, it's minus, as stated in post.

Which means a total of one hit against your forces for this round. Pretty good.

>>2268486
>Continue to provide support from the top of the hill

>>2268486
>Continue to provide support from the top of the hill

Reinforcements are coming and we really don't want to lose the heavier guns to happenstance.

The assault was going fine, you thought, as a combination of observation and limited reports told you that only one vehicle loss had been sustained thus far; and the assaulting companies were closing on the first line of trenchworks. They’d only have to suffer a tad more fire before they overran the enemy; the best thing for you to do was provide support from afar while the Army of the Republic earned their keep, and authored a budding story of valor the likes they would likely have not been capable before.

The northern fortress was proving irritatingly resistant; as a third shot flew out, you wondered if you should just blind it, or pour all the fire you had upon it.

“Von Neubaum,” you addressed the officer commanding the heavy tank, “How many of those smoke shells do you have left?”

“Six,” Von Neubaum answered promptly, “Quite a few, really, though I suppose when I run out, I can be expecting a resupply of those at the same moment the Southern Maelstrom clears.”

Enough to not be desperate, but hardly an amount that canceled a need to be frugal. Then again, this was the penultimate battle, before you returned home, no? Perhaps there was no use in being so stingy with war materiel.

>roll 1d100, DC 40, for bombardment. Destroying the fortification, of course, means that its firepower is no longer shooting at you people.
There’ll only be one roll of that taken. In the meantime, what to do after:
>Concentrate fire on a target; if it wouldn’t go down to that, then you didn’t know what would.
>Use smoke to blind the fortification. You can’t spare more time trying to destroy it as it continues to fire on the advancing troops.
>Continue bombardment solely with the big guns as usual; keep all other guns on overwatch for targets of opportunity, and on suppression of known positions.
>Other?

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>2268653
have the 150mm and the 75mm guns bombard it.

>>2268737
Did that, ugh, just bombard a friendly position?

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>2268653

>>2268653
>Concentrate fire on the big building; if it wouldn’t go down to that, then you didn’t know what would

>>2268941
Oops didn't read properly. Anyway concentrate fire on the big building.

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>>2268653
>>Concentrate fire on a target; if it wouldn’t go down to that, then you didn’t know what would.

>Then again, this was the penultimate battle, before you returned home, no?

Ha ha, ha. Ha. No nervous laughter here, no sir.

>>2268653
>Use smoke to blind the fortification. You can’t spare more time trying to destroy it as it continues to fire on the advancing troops.
One shell. Then let the infantry grenade it to hell.

“There’s a building, on the north of that damn quarry,” you told your platoon, expecting the radio equipped officers to convey through shouting your transmissions, to those who had none. “It has two holes in it, yet it still shoots. I interpret that as a personal affront. I want it levelled. All guns, fire upon that fortification.”

You received affirmations, and the cannonade began, headed off by the largest gun at your disposal; the T-8 equipped with the 15cm cannon near as big as the vehicle carrying the gun itself.

Out of all the sounds to come from a massive 15cm field gun as it heralded the renewing of fire, the one sound you didn’t expect was poomf.

Silence seemed to descend over the whole battlefield as both you and the crew of the T-8 stared dumbly at the massive shell that had practically fallen out of the barrel and plopped onto the earth in front.

“…SHIT!” the gunner shouted as he made a dive for the back of the vehicle, all the rest of the crew making similar exclamations. You’d have made your own, had you not been entirely focused on turtling up inside of your tank’s turret with the speed of battle shits.
Despite the panic, seconds passed, and there was no massive explosion, no tearing of the ground as the precious artillery vehicle flipped over, killing all close by. A brave soul eventually crept back, and with a shaking foot, rolled the misfired shell down the hill, far from all of you. One couldn’t be thankful enough that the fuse was not a timed one.

The relief came in the light that the whole debacle had been a massive waste of time, however, and enough time had been lost between the scramble and remounting the vehicle that the gun’s part in assisting your allies had been much diminished.

>The T-8 SPG loses a turn of shooting!

The other vehicles, largely ignorant or uncaring of the misfire because of being buttoned, or distant, busily carried out your order to do their absolute best to level the twice-struck building.

>Roll 6d100; the order of the dice are the T-15, your tank, then the four tank destroyers. DC 40 for the T-15, and DC 30 for all other vehicles, representing the difficulty of hitting a decent spot with smaller munitions. The amount of hits determines damage; naturally, the more shots that make effective hits, the more likely the fort will be neutralized, if not destroyed.

Rolled 89, 36, 90, 33, 11, 76 = 335 (6d100)

>>2269392