The reason your counterblow had been so successful had been in part because of the White Eyes, who had been scattered across this battlefield, as without heavy weaponry they were unable to halt the enemy advance, and had been cut into pockets. One pocket, you’d rescued, and they now rode with you on your new primary mission; to save the White Eyes’ Battalion Headquarters, and by extension their leadership. The men you’d retrieved earlier had emphatically insisted you try to do so, but to be honest, their desire was not something you shared. While their loyalty was to a superior, you wanted to save them because they represented a different future for this terrible land of terrible folk. If so many of such a rarely selfless band were struck down in this battle, what would the country afterwards be like? What sort of legacy would be forged by rewarding such a show of valor with abandonment to destruction?

That, and you had to admit, their “Hostmaster,” Viska, was awfully cute. Once you looked beyond her scars. You wouldn’t say that around your wife, of course, not that Maddalyn wasn’t just as cute. And engaged to you. Enough of that, though.

Your battalion had been separated into two parts, the 2nd company, yourself, and 4th company going south, and to the east and north, 3rd and 1st company. The dispersal had been necessary, but it put you in a vulnerable position, should the enemy in force coming from the west strike you while you were apart.

Your advance southwards had been, in your experience, rather quiet after the battle where you rescued your current accompaniment of White Eyes. Spared from the combat that broke your battalion in twain, you were starting to get rather nervous; aside from the howling of wind, the growl of machinery underneath and around you, and the sounds of distant battle, there was no sound; nothing to clue you in on any enemies approaching, or moving around you. A Panzer Commander’s greatest weakness was lack of visibility in exchange for being quite visible themselves, and you could hardly see your allies, let alone advancing opposition.

This anxiety was shared among your crew. Normally, there would be some chatter in times of safety, but the surroundings were far too uncertain for anybody to say anything, instead keeping keen eyes on their positions and whatever viewports were available.

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Silence. Then more silence. Then…

“Ah..!” Maddalyn, combination radio operator and fiancée, suddenly chirped.

“What?” You demanded, far more irritably than you’d have liked, “What is it?”

“We…the enemy’s in front, and to the side, between us. Close and far, and they’re dug in, or otherwise in position to receive an attack. They haven’t noticed us. Reports from both 2nd and 4th companies. They want…they want to know if they should fire.”

Not enough information. “What about their numbers? Equipment?”

“Er…” Maddalyn was uncertain, as she demanded more information on your behalf. “Numbers uncertain. They’re spread out, but people are certain we aren’t seeing all of them. Men and tanks both, though a lot of the tanks aren’t like the others; they’re lower, and they’re boxy, like they don’t have turrets.”

That was better than nothing, at least. Low, squat tanks…if Anya’s information and what you’d seen was any indication, these were NfK-5s or NfK-5SKs, which were tankettes. Small and low to the ground, though in the case of the SKs, there was potential for light cannon instead of merely a machine gun.

Something else they could be that you hadn’t seen yet though, were NfK-7SKs; a different model of vehicle, and not nearly as weakly armored as their cousins while being just as low and almost as swift. They had light cannon themselves, usually 3.7cm, though if you’d learned anything about vehicles in Sosaldt it was to not count on equipment being standardized or lacking in customization.

>Do they need to ask? Strike! We have the initiative, and potential surprise.
>If we don’t need to fight, we won’t. Disengage and go around.
>Ignore the far targets. We’ll concentrate on the close ones, and pinch off the enemy by pieces. It’ll be slower, but we’ll more certainly crush them.
>Have 4th Company stay to engage; we’re breaking through. We can’t be delayed any longer, we’re almost to our objective!
>Other?

-----------

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

>https://pastebin.com/k8yuNeuS
>Miscellaneous information pastebin. None of this is need to know, and if you have questions then feel free to ask in thread, this is more meant to be a refresher on topics already read about, since though there isn’t much that hasn’t been stated in quest that’s important, in some cases it’s been a long time since mentioning.

>>2332648
>>Ignore the far targets. We’ll concentrate on the close ones, and pinch off the enemy by pieces. It’ll be slower, but we’ll more certainly crush them.

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>>2332648
>>Ignore the far targets. We’ll concentrate on the close ones, and pinch off the enemy by pieces. It’ll be slower, but we’ll more certainly crush them.

It will also give more time for the 1st and 3rd to catch up, although likely the enemy reinforcements as well.

>That, and you had to admit, their “Hostmaster,” Viska, was awfully cute.

Gooood. Search your feelings, Richter. You will know it to be true.

>>2332648
>>Ignore the far targets. We’ll concentrate on the close ones, and pinch off the enemy by pieces. It’ll be slower, but we’ll more certainly crush them.

Sorry for the wait, I spend more time than necessary on crafting one of your opposing vehicles. Here's hoping they don't just get wiped out.
Also I figure this needed addressing so I'll put this short tactical decision up.
-----

“We’ll ignore the far targets,” you declared, “We’ll concentrate on the closer enemies, and defeat them in detail with our superior numbers. It’ll be slower, but we’ll more certainly crush them.” Your tactics of overwhelming smaller enemy formations through weight of mass had worked well so far, you saw no reason to stop that now.
You were patched in to the net now, and you awaited the “ayes” of your subcommanders in 2nd and 4th companies. They came, but with addendums.

“But,” 4th Company said uncertainly, “Who’s far and who’s close? Are we hitting them as we are, and only fighting their front, or are we both gonna hit one at the same time?”

Ah. You hadn’t addressed that, had you?

>It is as you say. Chew through them; we can’t give one half of them the ability to move unhampered, I don’t want to risk getting hung up and outflanked.
>Focus on the eastern flank. The more distance between us and the mob coming back, the better.
>Focus on the western flank. It’s best to cut off the remainder from any reinforcement.
Optionally:
>We’ll re-maneuver to strike from a safer position. Attacking as we are now could entrap us. (Will take time)
And as always
>Other?

>>2333486
>>It is as you say. Chew through them; we can’t give one half of them the ability to move unhampered, I don’t want to risk getting hung up and outflanked.

>>2333486
>Focus on the eastern flank. The more distance between us and the mob coming back, the better.

>>2333486
>It is as you say. Chew through them; we can’t give one half of them the ability to move unhampered, I don’t want to risk getting hung up and outflanked.

Tough call, but I'm kinda hoping with their backs to us we can give them a helluva wallop in the first round that we won't need to use the 4th to hit them from the sides to make up for it.

And if they turn out to be tougher than we thought weeeeell...

>>2333486
>>Focus on the eastern flank. The more distance between us and the mob coming back, the better.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Coin flip to get a move on now that I'm around: 1 is even front, 2 is flank snip

>>2335133
Chewy kablooie then.

Writing/doodling/farting around.

“It is as you say,” you confirmed to 4th Company, “Chew through them; we can’t grant half of their number the mercy of being able to move unhampered. If resistance is strong, I don’t want to risk being outflanked.”

“Right, right,” 4th Company’s captain said in a manner that inspired little faith, “So…”

“Move forward, and attack the first enemies you see. Adapt a line formation; I want our breadth attacking their uneven line with all of its firepower. All infantry and guns dismount.”

As these final preparations were being accomplished, your gunner engaged in idle chatter, but of the wary sort.

“Hard to believe they don’t see us,” Stein murmured, clutching a cluster of various beads and runes, “This thing’s big as a house, I’ve shot at enough of them to know. Is it really that bad out there?”

“It is,” you assured Stein, “I don’t doubt that they know we’re here somewhere, but I wager they either think we can’t see them and are waiting for more of us to reveal ourselves, or they’re thinking we might be friendly. We’ve had the fortune of being quite close together and heading in the same direction for the whole of our attack, these unfortunate souls haven’t. It might even be that with this particular tank up front, they’re even more confused, if they see us.”

“I s’pose,” Stein muttered, keeping one eye glued to the gunsight lens.

“’Nennicaes,” Jorgen said in his northern rolling, “Thay could be weiitehng fahrr es, coss they thenk theh cahn tehkk us.”

“Let us hope they’re terribly wrong in that case. Stein, do you have shots from here? In case we have to fire earlier than expected.”

“Eh,” Stein replied, “I’d want to be maybe…thirty closer. They’re plenty close for the sight, but if I miss, I doubt I’ll know by how far in this crap, particularly if I miss by a ways. They’re a bit down in a gully, too, so if I hit down there I doubt I’ll know it at this distance.”

“We’ll be plenty close.” You said this, though you weren’t sure if that was something you wanted to do for sure; your tanks’ better guns and armor gave them a distinct advantage at a range compared to the rest of your cohorts, so maybe you’d be better off attacking from afar?

As Stein observed, too, the enemy wasn’t all visible, due to the storm and also because they were halfway in a ditch. You thought you saw some shapes beyond the lines before you, but without any movement, you couldn’t be certain. What you could see so far was unimpressive; the blocky shapes of what must have been NfK-5s, as well as their customized turreted brethren. You wondered if it was arrogant of you to hope for a more worthy challenge…

>Close with the rest and attack at the same time and range. It was best to maintain cohesion, especially so you couldn’t possible confuse friend from enemy.
>If you were better off at a range, then you’d attack from further. It wouldn’t help anybody to handicap your own capabilities in this instance.
>You didn’t need to fight yet, not when the lines were so uncertain; you’d push up when 2nd company ran into trouble on their own.
>Other?

Picture pending due to depending on distance.

Current Platoon:
Von Tracht- T15
Von Metzeler- m/32-47
Krause- m/28-25
Von Walen- m/28-45 TD
Von Neubaum- m/28-45TD

Von Igel's tank was disabled last engagement, and two crew wounded. No decision was made to rearm him or replace crew, so he is in reserve with other "unhorsed" crew. Not that there's much in the way of ideal replacement anyways.

>>2335429
>>Close with the rest and attack at the same time and range. It was best to maintain cohesion, especially so you couldn’t possible confuse friend from enemy.

>>2335429
As a bit of a refresher,

The T-15 is a relatively heavily armored assault tank, with a 7.5cm medium velocity gun. Most of your available ammunition is either explosive shot or smoke rounds, although you do have one shell that is neither, though you also don't know what it is; it could be armor piercing, or it could be something different that just looks like AP.

The m/32-47 is that boy up in the OP image. It's solid, though Von Metzeler's doesn't have the armor of fate, as can be easily guessed. It does have sturdy armor that should be able to resist most of the enemy's weaponry, though it isn't as thickly built as the T-15. It also has a 13mm machine gun in addition to its primary armament, able to cut light vehicles to pieces should they be within its limited firing arc.

The m/28-25 is the other tank in the OP, its armor protects against autocannons like those used by the NfK-5ts, but light cannon such as the caliber it is armed with and upward, it is vulnerable to.

The m/28-45s are the same vehicles as above, but instead of a turret have a half-casemate with a 4.5cm naval gun within. A good gun, but the armored casemate is merely small arms resistant and not proof against autocannon let alone heavier gunnery.

Remember, if you're uncertain of anything that you really ought to know in character, you can just ask and expect a clarifying answer.

>>2335457
We should keep the m/28-45s back then, and have them follow us a little later into the battle.

A straight up engagement like this would likely see the crew shredded by those autocannons during the approach.

Besides, their guns should be able to penetrate those tankettes at range. Visibility permitting.

>>2335429
>If you were better off at a range, then you’d attack from further. It wouldn’t help anybody to handicap your own capabilities in this instance.

>>2335429
>Other?
I think we should keep our Tank Destroyers a little back so the T15, m/32 and m/28-25 are seen by the enemy first and become the focus of at least the first round.

>Close with the rest and attack at the same time and range. It was best to maintain cohesion, especially so you couldn’t possible confuse friend from enemy.

Also if they see us peeling apart a little bit maybe they'll assume we aren't coming in combat ready? Just a little wishful thinking maybe.

Less cohesion and IFF and more accuracy ultimately.

tanq are most of their tanks facing away from us? We should aim the T15 towards any heavy-ish looking tanks facing us.

>>2336211
They're generally facing northwards, towards you, though they're at least attempting to keep eyes on every angle. Not that it seemed to help them this time.

Anyways I'mma start update soon.

As a final preparation, you hastily dismounted and informed the commanders of the SPGs of your group of your plans for them; they would trail rather behind, as to not make themselves targets. Their thinner armor made them vulnerable to the enemy’s numerous light cannon, and you’d prefer to minimalize casualties amongst your personal comrades.

That accomplished, you gave the order to charge.

As the companies’ platoons fanned out into a broad line of fury, racing forward to overrun their foes, your platoon advanced forward. In spite of the one m/32’s handicap of speed, you were still able to keep good pace with the rest of the units as you washed forward like a wave over the land, making ready to wash away your opposition like so many little seashells. Malachi shifted the engine oer, and the T-15’s engine’s growl erupted into a roar, a battlecry echoed by the other companies in a hymn to the struggle before them.

While the Death Heads had been blind enough not to notice you properly til now, it was soon enough that they did notice you closing, and with what appeared to be great alarm. Men got up to run back, and the crack of small arms fire once more forced you back inside your tank for the offensive, just as return fire from your own troops spat back in reply. Bullets pinged and clanged off of the thick front plates, small notes in the slowly swelling din of battle, as larger guns began to join the fight, blending into a crashing rumble of little thunderstorms as the ferocious battle you’d heard earlier from the battalion’s other half was recreated around you, though with the volume multiplied a hundredfold.

All this chaos had been from the foot troops and whatever tanks had been foolhardy enough to fire on the move; as the whole of the formation began to slow to engage, so too did your vehicle, and what you saw before you as you peeked out of the hatch pleased you. The enemy vehicles were in disarray, and though they were quickly beginning to lay their guns upon you, you could very well have the blessing of initiative.

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“That’s a lot of them,” Stein said out loud, and you noticed the enemy’s numbers as well. Behind the first platoon arrayed against you was a second one, also forwards, though they were all just short of being ready to fire upon you. Your mind processed the foe in slow motion; other than the scattered footmen, there were two of the NfK-5SK type before you, as well as NfK-5t of equal numbers, and behind them…you weren’t certain. You could tell they were more turretless types, but one sort was one you’d never seen in person before. They were squat and beetle-like, with noticeable larger guns than their cohorts, but not massively so…

“Target?” Stein asked, “Load?”

>Dictate target, and where to shoot on it. Aim grid will be overlaid on stated place.
Also
>Load High Explosive
>Load Smoke
>Load the unknown shot
>Other actions?
Also, I’ll need best of 3d100 for initiative, having to beat 50. You get best of because you got a decent drop on the enemy here.

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>2336458

Go for the stupid looking turreted ones since they're the easiest targets. Aim for the turret ring with HE unless they have a weak point I'm forgetting.

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>2336458
Supporting >>2336710

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>2336710
>>2336458
Seconding

Rolled 80, 23, 13, 62 = 178 (4d100)

Well, those aren't very fortunate rolls. Oh well.

Rolling for hastened enemy fire. DC 30 roll under for two, and DC 20 roll under for the other two, degrees of success applying by tens.

Anyways I won't be updating proper for a lot of today, sorry about that. After my milsim group game I'm heading to a barbecue, which'll likely keep me til evening.

...now with proper rolls

Finally, I will have an update ready soon. And I do mean soon, not like in an hour.

>>2336710
Forgot to mention, those ones, the NfK-5ts, have armor thin enough to be compromised by high explosive shot. Hitting it with your current tank's gun would be rather like hitting an egg with a beanbag. Suffice it to say the whole thing is a weak point.

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As your tank came to a stop, you finalized your orders.

“High explosive, and-“

Two of your foes got a hold of themselves, and both of them directed their ire on you; the two enemies in the middle, to be precise. The NfK-5 hammered on the turret face with its automatic cannon, cueing spitting and swearing from Stein. Like the m/28-13 before, the enemy gunner must have recognized the value in striking at the gun optics. Just after those shots began to rain in, the NfK-5SK, with what appeared to be a 2.5cm gun, cracked at your tank as well. You heard the shot strike on the hull with unusual clarity, and after that came a scream.

“Riyhgaahnett,” Malachi slurred over the intercom before you could ask, “Nayuseneeway.”

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“One of the hull guns got shredded,” Stein translated, biting his lip, “That bastard to the right’s mucking up the sights.”

“Then they will be first to die. Target them.”

“Aye, commander.” Stein leaned on a stick and the power traverse engaged, slewing the turret right with a jerk. It wasn’t as fast as on the m/32, but it was much more swift than you would have expected the mechanism to be able to move the bulky turret, with the degree of movement now making that clear.

Some machine guns began to hammer away at you too; you could hardly blame them for wanting to button your beast of a tank. A single blast of your cannon could cause great harm to most if not all of what you surveyed, but there was precious little you could see that they could do about you with their current equipment, unless the odd vehicles further back were more fearsome than they looked. All the fire did make the interior quite noisy, though.

“All locked in, commander.”

“Fire at will.”


>Roll 2d2 for deviation, up to 3 sets of 2d100 for deviation degree. Total deviation is still halved, but suppression by enemy means skill reduction of deviation is 30 instead of the normal 40. Which means the final deviation is reduced by 30 on both vertical and horizontal.

Rolled 2, 1 = 3 (2d2)

>>2340220

Rolled 88, 37 = 125 (2d100)

>>2340220

Rolled 96, 90 = 186 (2d100)

>>2340220
Limbo time, how loooow can we goooo

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>>2340284

>>2340220

Rolled 58, 92 = 150 (2d100)

>>2340220

>>2340304
okay weird

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“On the way!” Stein said, but at the moment of firing, he couldn’t help but recoil at what sounded like a particularly precise shot splattering against the hull. The shot was already on its way, though, and you peeped up slightly; you really needed one of those old trench periscopes, with this tank’s infuriating lack of a cupola to keep you safe while you peered out. Did the Caelussians simple not look out of their tanks at all outside of the sparse viewports?

You ducked back down as a few pieces of shrapnel from the blast pinged all about, but when you looked back, there was a cavernous hole in your target’s turret, the left side buckled and collapsed as though struck by a massive mallet.

“Oh.” Stein said blankly, “I guess that’s alright. I thought I’d get a bad angle or something.”

“Get more bad angles then,” you said down to him, before looking back up for the rest of your platoon to open fire. Your tank destroyer elements, more safely placed behind you, would probably not have as good of shots at the enemies, but they’d at least be less likely to be fired upon. Hopefully the rest of your other two elements advancing with you would be enough.

While you were out, you couldn’t help but notice a pack of Republic soldiers clump up behind your tank, especially not when a few began to climb up. They could be addressed later, though.

>Roll 4d100 for the rest of the platoon firing. First is Von Metzeler, second is Krause, third is Von Walen, and fourth is Von Neubaum. Their vehicles are listed earlier in thread. The TDs (VW and VN) suffer a penalty of 20 to hit because of obstructions and visibility. DC is roll under 60, degrees of ten determining degree of success.

Up to 3 sets of 4d100, I forgot to say.

Rolled 67, 34, 9, 5 = 115 (4d100)

>>2340364

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Von Metzeler must not have seen a threat in the closer vehicles; at least, that must have been why you saw no indication of his shot going anywhere. Perhaps he’d gone for one of the far, unknown vehicles. If they were more than vague shapes you could guess at what they were more properly. Krause had struck the vehicle you blew apart a second time, on the driver’s slot; if any were left alive in that vehicle, they wouldn’t be going anywhere. The two shots from your tank destroyers hit one after the other, both onto their rivals in role, the NfK-5SKs. Both hits were on or near the gun, and considering that said guns were the sole armament of these vehicles, they would be as good as knocked out after that, regardless of the status of the crew.

“Thanks for the boost!” you heard a slightly accented voice beside you, followed by the thunk of a machine gun being placed beside you, before a long burst was directed ahead. That alone would have been surprising enough, but the shower of brass only added to the shock as it scattered all over you. It was only the necessity of keeping your focus on your element of the fight that kept you from chastising the machine gunner.

“Right,” you said over the intercom, but mostly to Stein, “Next, I want-“

A pair of cracks and flashes came from the unknown vehicles behind the first line…

Rolled 7, 30 - 15 = 22 (2d100 - 15)

Rolling for enemy, DC roll under 50, degrees of success for every ten under

A duo of metallic cracks to your flanks followed the cannon fire. Your allies had been hit!

“Maddalyn, put me on platoon,” you remained calm. An officer of the Archduchy did not know fear.

There was no response.

“Maddalyn?”

“Nnn. I’m fine.” came a weak response.

“Put me on the platoon radio network.”

She did so. Immediately, you were blasted with a fearful report.

“Our commander is wounded!” came a voice you scarcely recognized.

“Calm yourself,” you hissed harshly, “What tank are you?”

“T-three!”

Three was Krause’s tank, you thought, as Von Metzeler came over the line. “My vehicle has suffered damage to its bow gun. No internal damage.” For your second in command’s calm, and in spite of your request, the radio operator of Krause’s vehicle was still hysterical.

“W-we’ve got to do something! He’s gonna die, he took it right in the leg! It’s…it’s gone, right at the thigh!”

An eerie silence.

“Von Tracht,” Von Metzeler said, some shaky pleading coming into his voice, “Now is not the place to make polite requests. However…It is not tactically reasonable, but…” he took a breath, “I ask that my request be considered.”

“Shuut reyde, commandant!” Jorgen shouted out. “Aycheh!”

>To go out now would be madness. All I can do is order tank Three to retreat if they can.
>Your request is heard and accepted. I’ll save him, don’t you worry.
>Did you have to ask? If I get killed doing this, I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days, though.
>Other?

>>2340426
>Did you have to ask? If I get killed doing this, I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days, though

>>2340426
>Did you have to ask? If I get killed doing this, I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days, though.
>Don't run on foot though. In a tank it'll be faster and safer.

>>2340426
>>Did you have to ask? If I get killed doing this, I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days, though.

What exactly is the plan now? Drive behind his tank and dismount together with Maddy and throw magic paper at him?

>>2340822
I assume so.

>>2340881
Well we will have to come up with a way to hide it... I have no doubt that his crew is going to blather to everyone if they see what Maddy actually do.

Tanq, is bat company still with us? Are our tanks equipped with tarps as part of the maintenance tools? We need to get him out of the tank and out of the bloody sandstorm to perform field surgery or whatever excuse we have. A tarp or a tent one of the bats may have in their backpack would be a godsend right now. Perhaps the radioman carries a camouflage net for him and his equipment?

>>2340923
Ugh wtf, their army. Swear them to secrecy. Keep the bow gunner in place to make sure noone comes skulking around, the other two crew, can be security outside while Maddy does her work. Best case, bow gunner is to occupied to notice, otherwise again, swear him to secrecy. Order Krause to wrap a bandage around his now hopefully attached leg and to play the part of the invalid when the operation is done.

>>2340426
Seconding everyone else wanting to rescue Krause.
Don't run over open field to do it though. Hopefully our tanks arnt to far apart and we can approach at an angle instead of exposing our side to everybody.

If that machine gunner wants to stay up there, that's good for now while we do our thing with Krause, since our tank is down the bow gun and I can't remember if we had a coaxial, but I'd rather Stein continue to fire on his own.

Awake now, will start writing in a couple hours after I've actually woken up.

>>2340923
>Tanq, is bat company still with us?

They've been drafted to replace panzergrenadier losses. As such they're pretty busy right now.

>Are our tanks equipped with tarps as part of the maintenance tools? We need to get him out of the tank and out of the bloody sandstorm to perform field surgery or whatever excuse we have. A tarp or a tent one of the bats may have in their backpack would be a godsend right now. Perhaps the radioman carries a camouflage net for him and his equipment?

Water-resistant canvases and shelter covers are part of the equipment of the tanks, sure. Though you're not in a place where you'd be able to set them up in peace without intervening terrain, or vehicles. The T-15's enough of a big steel box to do that job on its own from one angle, though.

You also have smoke shot, which can be used offensively and defensively, and has more packed into it and deploys its payload more quickly than an equivalent type grenade.

>>2341210
>Hopefully our tanks aren't to far apart and we can approach at an angle instead of exposing our side to everybody.

They're close enough for such, though it's a bit finicky. Nothing a bit of skilled driving won't take care of.

>since our tank is down the bow gun and I can't remember if we had a coaxial, but I'd rather Stein continue to fire on his own.

T-15 has no coaxial, but Maddalyn wasn't doing anything with the bow gun on her side anyhow. Not that she could. There's an additional bow gun on the T-15 on the driver's side, though. Also, the m/28 has no bow gun; all its weapons are in the turret.

>>2340426
>Did you have to ask? If I get killed doing this, I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days, though.

Basically what everyone else has been saying but throw down some smoke first, unless we trust Stein to just keep firing on his own.

“Did you have to ask?” you tried to say with haughty confidence, “If I get killed doing this, though, I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days.”

A short pause. “You have my gratitude, Von Tracht.” Von Metzeler responded firmly, “I will do my best to aid you by destroying this infestation of rodents.”

With the platoon net limited to you and Krause’s tank due to the lack of radios on the tank destroyers, that was all the discussion needed, and your tank transformed into a flurry of re-coordinated activities, to pursue your new mission.

“Load smoke,” you said first to your crew, “I want the space between our right flank’s vehicle and the enemy obscured.”

“HE’s loaded,” Stein reminded you.

“Get rid of it. I don’t care how.”

“Aye aye.” A knock as the explosive shell was discharged towards enemy lines. “Yeah, one more for you, dick head,” Stein muttered. Next, you popped out and found the machine gunner up top, who was ducking after some counterfire had come by.

“You!” you shouted over the fighting, “You’re coming with us. Hold on tight, and don’t stop firing that God damned weapon again until I say so. We’re moving.” Without waiting for an affirmative, you ducked back into the hull. “Driver, half right,” you told Malachi, “Put us in front of our m/28, but don’t give them an angle to shoot us in the side. Orient turret to face enemy.” As this all was being done, you continued, the intercom and headsets plenty loud over the engine and the battle. “Once we get there and the RO and I dismount, keep them shooting.”

As the tank moved, you noticed that the machine gunner’s squadmates had moved forward while you had been distracted, the covering fire from earlier helping them move to the first slope, where they lingered; grenades, what sparse few had been taken from the enemy at the Gash, were prepared. A few you recognized from their shape alone as Strossvald made- Bat Company apparently being generous enough to share with the less fortunate.

“RO,” you said instinctively, before correcting yourself, “Maddalyn. We’re getting out once this vehicle stops. I’m sure you heard, but we have need of your talents again.”

“…”

“Maddalyn.”

“Yes?!”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“I…I know what I have to do.” She sounded somewhat distant, and not entirely coherent, despite her earlier claims of being alright.

Rolled 11 (1d100)

The plan of what to do when you arrived at your ally was mapped out in some seconds, thoughts briefly interrupted by the tank cannon belching out a smoke shot; it was an imprecise shot, but good enough for your purposes, the smoke being thick enough for a time in spite of the driving winds swirling it about near instantly. You’d jump out the top of the turret, and-

No. No you wouldn’t, you thought as you touched a hand to your breast. Especially not with yet another target riding atop.

Out one of the top hull hatches, then. Damn it all, it would be really helpful if this tank had a hatch somewhere not exposed to enemy fire. Say, the bottom, or something. You’d heard the Reich had such innovations…ah, you were there now.

“Heerrr, heerr, heerr!” Malachi shouted out as you scrambled to the front hull and shoved open one of the top hull hatches, the right bow gunner and radio operator one, to be specific, crawling over Maddalyn as you did so. This was not a ladies first situation, after all. A quick look about prompted no particular fire towards you, so you leapt out on top and brusquely pulled Maddalyn after you, her satchel full of needed equipment looped about her shoulder.

Naturally, that was when the crackle of fire began to pop against the turret before you.

>DC 25 roll under for the foe

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Oh boi.

1 is you, 2 is Maddy

Maddalyn suddenly screamed, and you almost felt your guts tie into a knot. An officer of the Archduchy knows no fear, you repeated in your head, as you scooped up the tiny girl and broke off of the tank.

“Are you alright,” you said breathlessly as you laid her down by Krause’s tank, looking expectantly to the turret hatch as it opened cautiously.

“It-it, it h-hurts!” Maddalyn whimpered, voice cracking as she clutched madly at her collar. Her eye was wrenched tight and tearing up, “I can’t…I can’t… I’m going to die!”

You pulled her hand away, ripped open her coat and looked at the wound; it was a rifle shot, and from the look of things it had struck through just under her collarbone, and was weeping blood. A wound, but not a mortal one, your rational mind told you.

But she couldn’t work like this.

“Get your commander out here!” you shouted out to the crew peering through the hatch fearfully, “Unless you want him to die, get him out here, now!”

One thing at a time, you thought as your heart pounded and Maddalyn writhed, shrieking in short, sputtering cries. You had to fix this…

>You’re not going to die from that. It’s only a flesh wound, pull yourself together. Now.
>You won’t die, I’m here for you. You can hear me, can’t you? You’ll be fine.
>Strike her
>Other?

>>2341632
>>Strike her
>>You won’t die, I’m here for you. You can hear me, can’t you? You’ll be fine.

>>2341632
>>2341655
We still need to get that fixed up after. A shot by the collarbone could have hit a lung or all sorts of damage to a rib. Hopefully the bullet travelled along a rib and out. We should check for an exit wound.

>>2341632
>>You won’t die, I’m here for you. You can hear me, can’t you? You’ll be fine.
>>Strike her

>Other?
Maddalyn, your life, my life and the life of the officer in this tank depend on you pulling yourself together. Please. Do this for me.

>>2341655
>>2341668
Seconding.

Do we have any Sulfa Powder or equivalent in the setting. First aid kit from our tank? If the Blood Suns stock such things and if not I hope we did.

I'm okay with her using one of her charms on herself as well.

>>2341632
>You’re not going to die from that. It’s only a flesh wound, pull yourself together. Now.
>You won’t die, I’m here for you. You can hear me, can’t you? You’ll be fine.
I miss the times when this was a quest about waifus.

>>2341770
It still is, were just getting rid of the undesirables. Its to bad we lost the ghost along the way.

You weren’t sure if words could even reach Maddalyn in this state, no matter what they were, but one thing never failed to bring attention, and that was a sold strike across the face.

You hauled off and slapped her hard enough to snap her face away from you, and she immediately ceased her whimpering, staring at you with a wide, tear brimmed eye, pupil so narrow it was as if a light had been shone in her face. Her normally ghostly pale skin had turned sheet white, and her breaths were haggard and quick, but you had her attention.

“You won’t die,” you insisted to her, hoping the battle would just shut up for one blasted second, “I’m here for you. You can hear me, can’t you? You’ll be fine.” Maddalyn continued to stare blankly, and you gripped her by her shoulders and brought her closer. “Maddalyn,” you said again, “your life, my life, and the life of the officer in this tank…you know him, don’t you? Krause, he’s Von Metzeler’s old friend, we’re all depending on you making it. Pulling yourself together. Please. Do this for me.”

Maddalyn blinked, gasped twice for breath, then stuttered strings of nonsense out, trying to form words and failing, but what was important was that she had reached a shaking hand into her satchel and began to search for the proper spell as a pair of Krause’s crewmen brought the limp body of your officer out of the tank. Krause was as pale as Maddalyn was, and though at first glance he seemed to have both legs, his right was a gaping mass, only connected by a few pieces of gristle. Your stomach churned at the sight, but you reminded yourself, you knew no fear.

Maddayn’s reaction was different. She stared at that wound, then looked to her own, and a wave of misery replaced much of the terror; her hands still shook so terrible she nearly dropped the tag as she withdrew it from her bag, but she clutched it tightly as she dabbed plentiful blood from her wound onto a finger, then onto the note.

“Form a barrier,” you ordered the two wary crewmen, who were too shaken to do anything but follow your commands directly. You’d have liked to take more precaution to hide things, but…nobody was that near, and there was a dust storm and a battle as a distraction. Unless whatever Oblitares man was supposed to be around here had stupidly plunged into the midst of this storm of dust and blood, you felt certain of this secret being kept between the lot of you currently just around.

“…Will this work?” you asked Maddalyn as she stirred the glowing mist that had precipitated from the now curling and shriveling tag.

“I…I’ve never…” Maddalyn still had trouble speaking.

“Oh, hullo Lieutenant,” Krause said to the air, “Sorry about your tank. It’s been as far as we’ve been, yeah?” Maddalyn jammed the finger and clouds into the ragged stump, and Krause’s mumbling was replaced with a bloodcurdling “YAAARRRGH!”

It was an eerie thing to watch. The flesh appeared to be pulled back together by…threads, glowing threads, and from within the opened tank, a snaking stream of blood crawled down and began to flow into Krause’s body as the meat of the leg was stretched out and twisted about itself. Over the course of an agonizingly long minute, where cannon fire and gunshots still crackled about, though not for you, in the shadow of the tanks, where there was once naught but ragged flesh, there was now a perfectly fresh limb, healed as though it had never been wounded. Curiously intact, though, was a narrow curved scar, seemingly unrelated to the wound that had been suffered just now. Maddalyn’s eye drooped, but her heavy breathing didn’t slow, her shoulders slumping as she sat down heavily on the earth.

Krause, for his part, seemed suddenly alert, and he touched his leg in disbelief. He looked to you, then to Maddalyn. “Hell of a woman you dredged up, Lieutenant.”

“Commander!” the two crewmen snapped back around, one shaking him by the shoulders, “You’re alright..?”

“We’ve got work to do, fellows,” Krause tried to heave himself up, but the reattached leg gave him some trouble; as though he had to get used to it being there again. “…One moment. I’ll be there shortly. We can’t leave the platoon down a tank, after all.”

“Slowly,” you told your officer as you remained crouched.

The sound of a motorcar came from behind, and you saw the shape of a PzA-19 reveal itself. Yours, thankfully; the black of the Death Heads and the chocolate brown of the Republic were difficult to tell apart at a distance, without knowing what sort of vehicle to look for. Jumping out immediately as it pulled close was Captain Honnrieg, who shuffled over to you accompanied by an aide with a submachinegun.

“Lieutenant!” he shouted at you. His voice was odd; it was as if he were enjoying himself somehow. “Hell of a mess we have here, don’t we? You weren’t responding, so I came to make sure it was just radio trouble. Didn’t come this far to get killed!”

“S-status report,” you said uneasily, “How are we doing?”

“Well,” Honnrieg crouched down to your level, “I’ve got that for you, good news and bad.”

>Roll up to 3 sets of 2d100, averaged, for allied combat. 1st is for 2nd company with you, and 2nd is for 4th company to your west. Higher is better for these rolls.

Rolled 89, 58 = 147 (2d100)

>>2341843

Update will be delayed do to heading out for a bit.

>>2341857
This is a really solid roll, but hey, you might get lucky if you roll the bones again...right?

Probably not. But hey, the bad luck's spent now! Supposedly.

>>2341843
Honestly I don't think I wanna roll, the ones we have aren't that bad

>>2341857
I don't want to ruin these results. I won't roll.

>>2341936
>>2341939
Roll locked, then. No spoiling that 89!

Taking longer than expected to go through with this, restaurant had a computer malfunction so the tickets didn't go through

>>2341765
Forgot to answer this. Blood Suns didn't, but Strossvald tanks do. You'd have transferred the kit box so you have a vial of it.

Rolled 21, 100 = 121 (2d100)

Back now. Writing after this...enemy roll.
>+10 bonus because of superior equipment density; these guys seem better equipped than the other formations...

Rolled 7, 7 + 5 = 19 (2d10 + 5)

>>2342394
Holy shit that is spicy.

Casualty counts. Difference is five for both, casualty count is the d10 roll for both sides in a fight, but the extra modifier is how much is inflicted on the "loser."

>>2342394
Please say this is a roll under

>>2342425
Nope, same higher is better as your own good roll.

So to illustrate the situation coming up a bit, each "point" on the d10+ rolled is a knocked out tank or scattered/destroyed squad.

Republic armor companies are 12 tanks plus 4 squads of panzergrens.

The enemy knocked 4th company for 12, in exchange for 7.

On the other hand, you just knocked the enemy for twelve as well. Also in exchange for 7, but, hey, you're still fine, right?

>>2342430
Augh

>>2342430
Shit.

File: tcq_dustbattle13.png (2.62 MB, 1400x1200)

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“Good news,” Honnrieg started off, before he glanced at Maddalyn, “God’s sake, Adel, take care of the poor girl. Get the kit from the car.”
“Uh, right! Crap…” Adel moaned as he ambled back.

“Anyhow,” Honnrieg glanced about at the surroundings as he spoke loudly over the conflict, “2nd Company’s getting beaten to shit, like you’re doing, but like you’re doing also they’ve managed to push in and lay waste. On my way here the front was going forward. Your company commander’d be happier if he hadn’t lost…two platoons, but you won.”

“The good news is that we lost two platoons pushing forward, and we don’t have time to fix anything,” you sagged unwillingly, “What’s the bad news, then?”

“4th Company’s gone.” Honnrieg said bluntly.

“Gone?” you echoed, voice empty, “Gone?”

“Radio command’s dead and the last transmission was an unauthorized retreat order. Battalion HQ’s started swinging east so they’re not exposed.” Honnrieg summed up, “If the enemy’s got any brains, they’ll round on us while they have the momentum, and with reinforcements at their back. We have to get moving, or be ready to win and fast.”

“Judge above,” your breath caught in your throat. “…1st and 3rd battalions are to the east. They can reinforce us.”

“But the decision for now?” Honnrieg pressed you.

>We have our own momentum, too. We push forward through this break to the White Eyes. We can catch them between us and the other half of the battalion after that.
>We’ll fight them. We’ll rescue what’s left and get revenge for our people, here and now.
>We have to retreat. We can’t push through, and we can’t stay. We have to link up with our people.
>Other?

>>2342472
>>We have our own momentum, too. We push forward through this break to the White Eyes. We can catch them between us and the other half of the battalion after that.

If 4th's resistance was just as tough as ours, then yea im not surprised they got vaporized, they had lighter armor and lighter guns afterall.

We push forward, 4th is routing, they can continue to do so, their no longer combat effective.

We keep to our objective, and assess the situation from there.

>>2342472
>>We have our own momentum, too. We push forward through this break to the White Eyes. We can catch them between us and the other half of the battalion after that.

I say this not really understanding the situation but I believe in the dice.

>>2342472
>>We have our own momentum, too. We push forward through this break to the White Eyes. We can catch them between us and the other half of the battalion after that.

“We have our own momentum, too,” you said with new decisiveness, salvaging what hope there was to be found, “We push forward and break through to the White Eyes, hold at their position, and catch these enemies between us and the other half of our battalion. I’ll make sure Hiedler’s called for reinforcement, but I think he’d sensible enough to know to do that without me telling him to. Other than that, we hop in to what still moves, pick up anybody who’s not dead, and get moving as quick as we can.”

“Good,” Honnrieg said, letting Adel come forward, who after washing the wound and clamping a gauze pad against Maddalyn’s collar, dumped about a quarter of the provided sulfa powder phial onto it, eliciting a startled yelp of pain from Maddalyn. “Kid…” he shook his head at Adel, whose other medical steps weren’t as haphazard, though Maddalyn shifted uncomfortably when he slipped the straps of her undershirt down to wrap medical tape around her torso, keeping the new gauze in place.

“That’ll have to do it for now,” Adel said breathlessly, “it went through clean. Didn’t hit the shoulder blade, wasn’t bleeding enough to be any big blood vessels. As long as it doesn’t go septic from all the crud in the air she’ll have nothing to worry about til a surgeon can stitch it.”

You nodded to him. “Thank you, very much.” Adel bowed slightly and ran off, accompanied by Honnrieg.

“Straight south, aye?” Honnrieg shouted back, “Don’t be late.”

With them gone, you spoke to Krause first. “Is your tank still operational?”

“Your tank, actually,” Krause reminded you, “It took it through the lower turret, on the cheek, so I’d expect the traverse to be out of order, but it can still move.”
“Good. Take it then, we need everything that can still move.”

“Sir.” Krause rose, brushed himself off, then with a rotary wave of his finger directed his crew back in. “Going forward when you are!” He shouted out as he closed the turret hatch after himself.

Maddalyn seemed tired, so you lifted her up; it was improper for the wounded to be forced to walk, anyways.

“Are you going to heal yourself?” you asked her, “You’ve every right to.”

Maddalyn shook her head furiously. “This…it hurt, but…I’ve only one of those spells left. It’d be too selfish…”

“I understand,” you said, “but the moment this is over, I want it taken care of. I only want one sort of mark left on you that’s a result of my actions.”

Maddalyn squirmed. “Now isn’t the time for that sort of talk…”

After depositing Maddalyn back in her place and, undisturbed by enemy fire, clambering back down through the top of the turret, you made sure everything was in order.
“Did you hit anything else?” you asked Stein.

“Psh. Not that I could confirm,” Stein groused, “The other tank, the m/32, something must’ve pissed them off majorly cause they wasted those two funny looking tanks in back, that were giving us grief. With only a couple of shots, too.”

“Ah.” You said sharply, “Maddalyn, are we on platoon?”

“…Yes.”

“Right then.” You cleared your throat as you patched yourself in, “Lieutenant Von Metzeler, your command has been carried out.”

“My gratitude to you for that, Lieutenant,” Von Metzeler said, his stiff demeanor not allowing him to take a very thankful tone of voice, but you knew the feeling was there all the same. “For my part, I and the rest of the platoon have destroyed the enemies before us. Will we reconvene?”

“Immediately,” you said, “As soon as the company is collected together, we’re pushing south for the White Eyes. 4th Company has been wiped out, and we can’t afford to fight the enemy here, not with our current numbers. I don’t want an even fight, so we’re going south for reinforcement, then catching the enemy between us and the rest of the battalion that’s left.”

“Affirmative.”

>Roll up to 3 sets of 1d4. Average rounded up will be the number of tanks able to be recovered and recrewed for 2nd company.

Rolled 3 (1d4)

>>2342614

Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>2342614

Rolled 2 (1d4)

>>2342614

Three of the seven knocked out tanks were able to be recrewed, though the reserves were drawn from what panzergrenadiers remained in 2nd company, and there were beginning to not be many of those left; many of the mounts now consisted of White Eyes conscripted from earlier, as well as Bat Company’s own contribution to the numbers. Rescuing the White Eyes battalion HQ had become less about saving them now, and it was increasingly likely that you’d need their help as much as they needed yours, if you were to maintain operation integrity. An understrength battalion could still do work, with three companies instead of four, but if your numbers were cut to less than fifty percent of your original, you’d be in a poor position, indeed.

Not that you hadn’t already given much more than you’d taken. By your estimates, you’d destroyed about three companies in exchange for losing your one; that alone had likely halted the Death Heads’ ability to attack you, but it wasn’t enough to simply halt them. According to Loch, for this victory to have the suitable political muscle to topple the dominoes satisfactorily, you needed to attack and rout the enemy; still a possibility, you thought, so long as you didn’t have any more battles like the last one.

The order to break south had been given, and the plans finalized quickly with the other companies still left, and you broke south; stragglers, mostly in the form of singular or paired men, were sprayed with fire and left afterwards; you had no time to spare on making a clean sweep. You had to depend on your Death Head counterparts to the west to not be as driven to chase after you in preference to finishing off 4th company. A necessary sacrifice, and one that couldn’t be avoided, so one could only take the advantages where they lay. From the sound of the tread and engine and sporadic combat heading northwards, you knew that the enemy wasn’t chasing you, at least. If you won, you thought, all this would be worth it. A proud monument would detail such a sacrifice in Strossvald; the same would like be a worthwhile honor to 4th company, in the end.

File: tcq_dustbattle14.png (2.6 MB, 1400x1200)

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What looked like a harassing force of Death Heads foot soldiers were surprised by your sudden appearance near the crest of a slope, and ran away immediately; tragically from too far away for you to try and capture them en masse, but familiar shapes observing you from the top of the crest told you all you needed to know. Four hooded figures, their cloaks reversed to provide better camoflauge, but the shapes recognizeable all the same. You’d found some White Eyes.

To avoid friendly fire, you’d populated the front tanks with teams of White Eye riders, and the same folk dismounted as you came to a stop, and moved up to speak with their allies. A shouting match erupted even over the storm, and your own White Eyes came back glumly, silently motioning you forwards.

“The hell are you doing here!?” the leader of the fireteam, a rather stout and squat man with a thick full beard, rather broad compared to his thinner underlings, “Thought you were gonna head back, what’s the bloody point if you’re still here!?”

“We came here to save you,” you said coolly, “And here we are. We’ve enough forces to break you and us out both, should we press west.”

The swarthy team leader peered out over your formation, and didn’t seem impressed. “Not enough, I’d bloody hell. Bloody stinkin’ hell.” The cross man held for a moment, “You do have more?”

“Over three times as much.”

“…Right, maybe we ain’t as screwed as we thought,” the White Eye grumbled, much more appreciative of your presence now. “

“How many of you are there left?” you asked. “The Battalion Headquarters was down here, I was told. I presume there were others, too?”

“Well,” the White Eye scratched at his beard, “Lessee…”

>Roll 3 sets of 1d6. 1 is a fireteam, 2-3 is a squad, 4-5 is a platoon, and 6 is a company. Amount of potential companies is limited to 1.

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>2343041
Come on snake eyes!

Heh, get it? Get it?

Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2343041

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2343041

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>>2343134

File: tcq_dustbattle15.png (2.61 MB, 1400x1200)

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“Lot more of us than we expected when we first started holdin’ out, really,” the bearded white eye said, “Guess people mostly went towards this place when they were losing ground. People from all over the place. My guys were down south when we got chewed up, we made it up here with another bunch. Whole other bunch managed to break out from east, but even though we had guys, we were runnin’ too low on bullets to do much, and our fighters kept turnin’ into wounded.”

The White Eyes’ militia structure was clear in its lack of military equivalents, and you were already confused. “So how many of you are there, about?”

“Damn, I dunno, maybe a couple hundred?”

If you hadn’t been leaning against the back of the turret hatch you would have fallen over.

“Like I says, tho’. Good quarter are shot up, and we’re low on stuff to shoot with, plenty to shoot at. That situation. If ‘twere to last much more, we’d be beatin’ em with slingbombs and shanks.” The man pulled at his beard some more, “Buncha them broke off right when we thought we couldn’ take more, tho. Your fault, I’m guessin’. They’ve only been pokin’ about e’er that.”

“The 1st Armored Battalion will take credit for that, yes.” You straightened, “Though some may be coming from the north. We’ll be ready to take them on, and while we do that, the rest of our group will come down and hit them in the backs and sides, if they come down here. Because of us and you, the enemy’s pulling back from the rest of our troops. Once we break you out, even if we have to weather the wave coming east, we’re as good as won. We’ll chase them all the way back to Todesfelsen.”

“Ah’see,” the man finally slung his rifle over his back, “S’pose you want to come with us to base, then.”

“Indeed,” you said, “I’d like to speak with Hostmaster Viska. Since we have radios, we can reestablish communications between you and the rest of the army.”

The fighter’s face brightened. “Ah. Lady Viska. Yeah, I’ll get you over there.”

>Next update won't be for a good bit, since it needs a doodle and I need to eat before that.
>had to make a quick correction to the numbers on that map

>>2343194

Do we even still want to attack the enemy to the north? What if everyone just breaks east immediately and we regroup there and just go around the enemy? They can't be too far out to the east since they've presumably all been converging on the axis we advanced down. Let them all blunder into eachother while we escape in the storm.

>>2343249
You don't have to; the plan's really only if they come for you. If they don't want to come and get you, then yeah, no reason to fight them.

As far as trying to slip out goes, you could try it, but you don't really have the stuff to quickly transport two hundred more people. It may be more prudent to try and link up with your own lines to the west as quickly as possible once your other companies have caught up.

>>2343260
That is, to transport two hundred more people without doing your best to turn every tank into a clown car. Most of the guntracks really aren't big enough or efficiently shaped to carry a lot of people, and loading's already complicated by the grenadiers.

>>2343260

Would it be possible for us to get a more "zoomed out" strategic map showing our position in relation to the other battalions and known enemy forces? I'm sort of having trouble visualizing the battlefield as a whole.

File: tcq_quicksheetstuff.jpg (57 KB, 500x450)

57 KB JPG

>>2343274
...Right, hopefully this really quick and dirty and exceedingly imprecise doodle and a short summarization will help with that, because doing a full map would be really time consuming at this point, for not really much gain.

Also you're not meant to know anything about the enemy positions besides a general "we saw them here/we think they're here," and detailed maps of this place are something you simply do not have, nor does anybody, really.

So what happened earlier is that the Death Heads broke apart around various pockets of resistance while they were running over the White Eyes, during with the storm blew in. Under cover of this storm, you and 1st armored battalion charged in and got to this central-southern portion of the scattered enemy line, making a lot of progress because of how scattered enemy units were.

A line formed against the Republic infantry holding the line, and now said Death Head Line is drawing back after realizing they just had a whole battalion chop through the middle of their lines, and if the information that you have about this formation is right, they've got three battalions, two of armor, and they lost three companies of armor; almost a half of their armor force.

So they're stopping their attack against the infantry line, and pulling back. While the infantry line can't go fast enough to interdict said retreat, they can still advance; the amount of space between your allies and the main line is likely only a little more than four or five kilometers at this point.

Basically, going east stands a good chance of running into formations that got held up way back, as well as potentially not getting away from retreating formations.

>>2343301
Wow didn't realize we had taken out half of their treads.

Does Richter recall how much of the total Death Heads force their entire army is composed of?

They must have something left rooting out rebels and sieging the fort right?

>>2343328
You've been incredibly fortunate with the dice. Initiative combined with close combat and picking apart groups in detail have really helped the chances. It also helps that the White Eyes broke them up by standing and delaying; if the Death Heads had not been dispersed, you'd have had a much, much harder time of it, and the same for the main line infantry.

The entire thing is about six, seven, or eight battalions. Information is inconsistent. The leader of this band managed to rouse up a sizeable force, though from the look of it, they weren't anticipating a force that was not only your people, but many more behind them, considering the interrogated Death Heads' ignorance of who you were or precisely why you were there.

There's definitely plenty left rooting out rebels and besieging the fort, but there's also plenty of rebels who turned cloak, and plenty of Death Heads who are just sitting around waiting for a side to join.

Sort of why the politics of the battle matter more than the tactical side; dominoes all set up and such.

You yourself don't know how close the dominoes are to tumbling, but Loch's confidence belies that the situation is good at least from his point of view.

Blah.

Okay, I can't actually out the drawing tonight. I'm too tired to focus on it. I'll get a word update out though so there can be something to toy with until I resume tomorrow afternoon after the last update tonight.

Your company was led in relative peace to the White Eyes HQ; the perimeter around the place was well dug in, you could scarce see the White Eyes in the cloaks and dugouts until you were almost upon them. In this dust whorl, it would be hellish to attack them, especially on the reverse slope you encountered them on. Your tanks coasted easily downhill until they reached the improvised “headquarters”; which was little more than a whippy flag stuck in the middle of a bunch of holes. Scant few heavy equipment appeared to have made it here at all, let alone radios. Forlorn emptied boxes bespoke of the supply situation; if a dedicated offensive struck here in this state, even with all of the superior tactical positions, there would simply not be enough resources to hold out against a persistent assault.

Viska was easy to pick out among the rest because of her height; she squinted at you as you approached on foot, though she didn’t shelter her face with a hand, instead holding her cloak tightly around herself with a hand, the other curiously inactive.

Her mouth moved, but no sound came out, or so it seemed. The wind was simply too loud.

“I can’t-“ you began to say. Viska said something to one of her retainers, and stepped towards you, and beckoned you down to her height. Her breath tickled your ear as she whispered to you, in a voice that, no matter the effort, could not be raised for long or consistently; her vocal chords had been doctored by the slavers of the Blue Barbs in her childhood.

“We meet in your vehicle. You have communications there too, I trust?”

“I do,” you nodded, and you led her the short way back to your T-15.

Viska’s small size (slightly taller than Maddalyn, so while short, not quite stunted) gave you pause for thought as to whether you should help her up, but she did not ask for aid. Rather than climbing normally, though, she tried to leap all the way up onto the mudguard; something that you yourself wouldn’t try to do without a boost. Naturally, this resulted in her tumbling backwards. You caught her just in time, by her waist, though even now, you couldn’t help but notice that only one hand seemed to fling out to grab something. You felt as though you knew why, but you weren’t certain yet as to why that particular thing was being hidden.

“Are you alright?” you asked politely as you lifted Viska to the place she’d attempted to get to. She nodded silently, and without asking, you lifted her up to the next level, to the T-15’s turret roof. This really was an awkward tank to get into, you’d discovered. What you wouldn’t give for a side hatch like in an m/32 or an m/28!
“Right, gentlemen,” you called into the turret to your idle crewmen, “Make some room. Me and this lady have to have a chat.”

Jorgen scowled, and crawled down instead of up like Stein did, and you heard accented bickering erupt in what must have been the Yaegir attempting to convince the Nief’Yem to sacrifice the driver’s seat for a little while. Malachi’s babbling was only a bit more comprehensible to you than it had been when you’d first met him, but you could tell that the northerner was making no headway in the debate.

Who you didn’t expect to crawl back was Maddalyn, who stared blankly up at Viska. If they were more intense, they would have been engaging in an accusatory, ”and who is this?” glare, but Maddalyn was too shaken, too exhausted to do anything but tilt her head back wearily, before scooching back the way she came.

“Your crew is…” Viska couldn’t help but say, in her soothing, tinkling voice, “…Unique.”

“One way to describe them,” you gave an incredibly fake sounding chuckle, “Ha. Ha. So. You wanted…”

“I was not aware that we would be rescued,” Viska gave a small bow, seated as she was, “Were I in your position, I would have found the risk too great, yet you came here. I have few ways of rewarding you, but no matter what, for this, should we live, you will always find friends in the White Eyes.”

>The pleasure is mine, my lady.
>I hardly had anything to do with it, other than blasting a path. You can thank Loch for my being here.
>Few ways of rewarding me? What sort of reward?
>Other?

>>2343499
>>The pleasure is mine, my lady.

>>2343499
>I appreciate that, but I came here as a matter of military duty, in the same way you volunteered to serve as a rear guard. Professional soldiers require no favors in return for their service.
>I would prefer to discuss how it is we're going to get out of here. Do you have any useful information on the enemy force? Scouting parties probing for weak points, maybe?

>>2343301

That map is helpful, I didn't realize how many enemies we were liable to run into if we retreated east. We've come so far south that it might almost be more rewarding to just keep going that way instead of turning around. It would also be tempting to just break straight through their lines to the west before they can concentrate their forces on us, but it's incredibly risky and if we ran into a concentration of their forces it could be suicide. Which is why I'm hoping the White Eyes might have acquired some information as to where the best breakout point would be, if they had sufficient forces to do it.

>>2343499
>>2343564
Supporting this

>>2343499
>Other?
>We can save the pleasantries for later. We need to figure out our next move.

Why did our highest roll in the entire thread put us in this situation... If only more of them had died, then we could mount up and leave.
Unfortunately it looks like we lack the transportation for all of them. And from what im understanding, their not particularly in any shape to move quickly on foot.

That overview map dosnt look particularly pleasant, we are surrounded and can be attacked on all sides before Loch can reinforce us, and the White Eyes are down to their rifles as clubs, so a stand here wouldnt be prudent either.

Im thinking, we launch an attack on the bottom left armored formation. If we drive towards that single point in the Death Heads line the rest will have to turn to engage us in a giant coloumn while we break out/fight towards the advancing republican forces. Strip the wounded and lightly wounded of most of their ammunition and weapons, arm whats left of their combat effective infantry to join in our attack. When we break through, their gonna have to start moving through the gap we punched through as quickly as they can towards friendly lines, hopefully we can get motorized infantry to race back towards us and use them to transport the wounded after their compliment dismounts.

>>2343499
>>2343564
>>2344638
Sure

So after falling into a coma and waking up with clearing the driveway of snow, I'm ready to...actually start next update. Phew.

It'll be an hour and a half at least, though I'll try to be spæd speedy with a funny character, not babby mode

Good thing I put "at least."
I'm almost done with the text. Shouldn't be too long.

File: tcqscene124.png (595 KB, 1000x800)

595 KB PNG

I dunno guys. I guess I was just completely out of whack today.

Anyways.

-------------------
“I appreciate that,” you replied, “but I came here as a matter of military duty, in the same way you and your lot volunteered for your place for the sake of the Republic, and not for the sake of your own lives. Fulfilling an obligation such as this is its own reward. Nothing further is necessary.”

“A bright future is our reward,” Viska said in response to that, a touch of pride in her voice, “It is a greedy thing to hope for, but it is something worth dying for. I should hope none died scorning the hope we shared on our journey to this battle. I know naught of military duty, but if it is anything like that, then it indeed is suitable on its own.”

“…In any case, the pleasantries can be saved for later,” you put your hands together, “I would prefer to discuss how we’re going to get out of this particular hole. We need to figure out our next move. Do you have any useful information on the enemy? Any weak points that were accidentally probed?”

“There are,” Viska adjusted her seating with a soft grunt, and she withdrew a notebook from within her cloak. A splatter of dried blood flashed at you from underneath, just for a moment, and the cover of the book was sticky and brown, with dust embedded in the stained cloth cover. “I have kept a rough record, with help from my assistants and leaders, of where the enemy sought to attack us most.” She turned the paged awkwardly with one hand, resting the notes on her thigh, finding the relevant page before holding it up to you. “The enemy commander is one of straightforward thinking. I concocted a labyrinth for him to navigate, and even before this weather, he was uncertain of how to react. We lost many, but our harassment came from so many places, the enemy felt it prudent to spread out. A move of false security, as though it strengthened him against us…” she put down the book and pointed at you, “It made him weak against an opponent of strength.”

“You expected no rescue, though?” you wondered.

“Our move was to be a nail in their boot, a thorn bush to scratch their face.” Viska said, shaking out the book again, “I am aware of how weak we are compared to Todesfelsen in terms of equipment, even with only a fraction of their troops present. All of us traded for as many of them is only a boon. You are here now, though, so there is no reason to think of ourselves as obstacles any longer.”

You could only think that you would have preferred the Blue Barbs group, full of no-hopers and human trash, would have been better for the job the White Eyes took up. Yet they were not here; hopefully they would arrive for a chance to bleed soon enough.

“Did you have a plan to escape, though?” you asked, reaching out and taking the notebook as Viska proffered it, in response to your query.

“If you have a radio, I would like to use it to speak with High Command,” Viska requested politely, “My leaders and I have thought of plans, but we lost our communications equipment when we were forced to retreat some time back. We are unaware of the current tactical situation.”

“I can tell you some of what I have,” you said as you flicked the intercom switch, “Maddalyn. Hook me into Command. We need to speak with Loch and the others.” You were sure that Hiedler, the battalion commander, had updated Loch with news of the success of your mission. You only needed to hear the response to that achievement yourself, so you and Viska could decide what needed to happen next.

Loch, as it turned out, was quite pleased to hear that you completed your objective.

“Did you manage without significant losses?” the enigmatic man asked in the same way one would ask about a trip to the grocery.

“One company was lost,” you admitted bitterly, “But we found a company plus of the White Eyes still holding out, and we managed to destroy or cripple three of the enemy’s own companies. I’d call that a win.”

“So defensive,” Loch admonished, “Men die in wars, Von Tracht. Your progress thus far, I should tell you, may have had an unintentional effect on any intent to escape your current position.”

“Go on,” you said warily, looking at Viska.

“Tell me, Von Tracht. When a line takes significant casualties, and can no longer maintain a wide front, or indeed if they find out their front was too wide in the first place, what would you do in the commander’s place, if your only concern was maintaining a front at all?”

“Contract the lines,” you said instinctively, “Withdraw dispersed elements and form a wall that can resist enemy penetration.”

“As I have said before, our friend across the lines is predictable,” Loch went on smugly, “One could argue that he has no choice, but…with his initiative surrendered, we have nothing but opportunities.”

“So where are they weak?” you demanded.

“The south, and north, naturally, as they condense their forces that had scattered so widely,” Loch told you, “If you wished merely to escape, then by all means, strike in those directions. If you still have fight left in you, then were I you, I would strike west instead, and catch the enemy in between us.”

Viska motioned to you, and you nodded to her. “I’m giving you to Hostmaster Viska. She wants to hear from you.”

Viska barraged Loch with quiet observations. With a snapping glance, she motioned to you for her book back, which she made new notations in after you relinquished it. The whole exchange between them only took a few minutes, and Viska’s eyes had lit afire during it all. At the end, she tore the headset off, with the same hand she did everything with, and showed you the notebook anew, with additions.

“The southeast is weak,” Viska told you, “The enemy probed there little, and we have been able to range far in that territory. If the Death Heads are contracting their lines, reinforcements will not head to our southeast. If we move at an oblique angle, we may be able to slip out with little interference. There is an enemy concentration to the southwest, as well as to our west. You just broke through the north, and I have little idea as to what is in the direction from whence you came. I would assume you needn’t be told about that, in any case.”

>Good, I’ve had my fill of fighting for today. We’ll go southeast, and we can link up with the rest of our troops to the east as well.
>I’d feel more comfortable just breaking south. We can take one more fight, and we might still be able to dissuade them from fighting us by just showing up in compact formation as a show of force.
>Call me crazy, but I think I’d like to deliver some more vengeance. I’d like to make an assault west, and catch them between us and Loch.
>Other?

>>2346007
>>Good, I’ve had my fill of fighting for today. We’ll go southeast, and we can link up with the rest of our troops to the east as well.

We've already taken substantial casualties and the White Eyes detachment is apparently almost entirely out of ammunition. We're in no position to keep fighting if it's not necessary. From the sound of it the enemy's defeat is only a matter of time now anyway. We may as well let the rest of the Republic Army do its share of the fighting. I'd also like to get back in our own tanks again.

>>2346007
>Good, I’ve had my fill of fighting for today. We’ll go southeast, and we can link up with the rest of our troops to the east as well.
>Also ask what's with Viska's left hand.

>>2346007
>>Good, I’ve had my fill of fighting for today. We’ll go southeast, and we can link up with the rest of our troops to the east as well.

>>2346007
>Good, I’ve had my fill of fighting for today. We’ll go southeast, and we can link up with the rest of our troops to the east as well.

Too many wounded and weaponless to risk it all on a dice roll. Fate/Destiny wise not meta-dice.

Viska is so cuuuuuute! Let's sacrifice our commission and become General White-Eye.

Also I had no idea the T-15 was so spacious, damn we like fighting in luxury.

>>2346497
While it is spacious on the inside, relatively, like Arma 3 tanks before the Tanks DLC, the interiors of these vehicles are not modeled, so any interior shots are very vague approximations.

>>2345995
How did you know that I have a thing for blonde lolis with hands big enough to crush watermelons? Hnnnngh

>>2346007
>Call me crazy, but I think I’d like to deliver some more vengeance. I’d like to make an assault west, and catch them between us and Loch.
Buy time for the wounded.
Just a quick hit and run. I'm thinking that we try to come in south of their line, stop for one shot and maybe one or two at speed as we retreat, drop a smoke shell to conceal us and just fuck off and link back with the rest to the south-east.
With some luck it's enough to make them halt and line up for a battle and delay them if only for a few minutes and mess up their cohesion.

>>2346752

The problem with that is that we don't actually know how close we are to their main line and if we have to travel any significant distance to find them then we've just wasted all that time we could have spent retreating. Plus there's a possibility we could miss them completely in the storm.

“That sounds good,” you said, already missing your old vehicle. Well, the one that didn’t have a hole in it. “I’ve had my fill of fighting for today. We’ll go southeast, and we can link up with the rest of our troops to the east at the same time.”

While the fighting had certainly been furious, it hadn’t actually been very long since you plunged into the heart of the enemy. Only an hour, or so, perhaps more; time seemed to distort here; not the way it actually had in the mountains, but in a way similarly imperceptible. However, the fatigue wasn’t wholly physical. A break from life or death struggles was always a pleasure, but your allied companies, for their victories, were also running low on their primary means to fight the enemy. Guntracks, with the majority only armed with machine guns, and of those only a single belt of armor piercing carefully sourced and distributed to each, made up the bulk of your forces. Their armor piercing belts were surely low if not completely expended by now, and you’d taken enough casualties at this point that another few battles could seriously affect your ability to resist a dedicated enemy attack against you. As is, with the loss of more than a quarter of your initial force, perhaps even a third if you counted men and not only vehicles, you couldn’t traverse the battlefield with the impunity you had had earlier. Even though you’d destroyed many of the enemy, they still far outnumbered your own people. You’d been lucky enough to fight them while they were dispersed, as well; from here on, the likelihood of meeting a more concentrated enemy massively increased, even moreso if reinforcements had come from the city in the meantime.

Hopefully the Iron Hogs to the north and east of the city, opposite of you, were distracting more than their fair share of the Death Heads.

That you had to match speed with the foot soldiers of the White Eyes, though, limited your options. You and the other companies would have to stay with them, in order for them to not become an exploitable weak point in the formation. Even with the enemy starting to run, after all, if they saw a weak target, there was no telling whether they would go for it, or if they would avoid delays and go around. That uncertainty could work for you as well as it could against, though. The enemy hadn’t even known your intent or numbers, after all. How could they know how ragged and low on anti-armor munitions your force was? So long as you avoided a pitched fight, you figured, while putting on a mask of might, you and the Death Heads you encountered could agree to not waste one another’s time.

“We can be ready to leave in ten minutes time,” Viska interrupted your thoughts, “To begin to consolidate all of our people from the perimeter, and to ready the wounded to be carried. We could be ready sooner if we abandoned the wounded but...I would rather not.”

“Ah, yes,” you caught yourself, “Just a minute, though. I want to see if…just a bit.” You put on the headset again, after making sure it was set to who you wanted to talk to. “Loch,” you asked, “Where are the trucks right now? This would be easier if the White Eyes didn’t have to walk.”

“Gone for another wave,” Loch said with not nearly enough apology, “They are much more valuable right now as rapid transportation of reserves, rather than as facilities for rapid maneuvering in a fluid front. I’m sure you will find a way to manage without. Even now, our current superiority of numbers is uncertain. Movement has been reported from our friends in the Fort.”

“…Thanks.” You let spill out, flatly. “We will be around shortly.” The headset was taken off, “Well, that should be all, except,” you pointed to Viska’s right side, “Is there something the matter with your arm?”

Viska hesitated, then slowly pulled her cloak away from her shoulder.

Her right arm terminated in a bloody, ragged stump, tied off tightly by an unskilled hand after being covered in bandages. It had been torn away just below the elbow, and even now, blood dripped through, thought very slowly.

“I would rather few know about this,” Viska said very softly, even for her, “My comrades stand and fight because I stand with them. I know I am small, and rather weak, and they do to. It is an example, and a reminder of how strong they are able to be, if I can still be beside them. But they do care too much for the health of a broken toy. I fear that if this wound were widely known about, it would discourage the men, and make them unnecessarily concerned for my own health.”

“This happened now?” you tried to hide your concern, poorly. “…Where?”

“When we first retreated, some kilometers to the east,” Viska pulled her cloak back over the ugly amputation, “I was overseeing a section of the front, and our position was spotted. When I woke a moment later, my right arm was like this.” It was only now that you noticed, under all the dirt on Viska, she was paler than before, and sweating. “I am still alive. That is what matters now.”

You felt your lips set as you thought about this silently. Maddalyn couldn’t conjure an arm out of nothing, you were rather sure. Everything she’d done had involved putting things back together, and all of that at a short distance. Somehow, you didn’t expect her magic to be able to fix this one, though perhaps it could help…

>You should at least have morphine for that. Your role in command needn’t continue now.
>Wait here a moment. I can have something done for that. (Use a Stitch Spell)
>If you’ve come this far with that arm, I doubt it will stop you soon. I should let you go, now. We’ll be ready in five, as you said.
>Other?

>>2346752
It's perspective! Really! It's not that I picked the worst angle ever for a hand-arm shot, or anything like that.

>>2347174
>Consult with Maddalyn on whether a Stitch Spell can restore the arm fully. If it can, use it.
I know this isn't prudent, but I can't stay deaf to the plight of fictional cute girls.
But there's no sense to waste it on just closing off a stump.

>>2347174
Give her morphine and fresh bandages. Maddalyn told us that she could only fix fresh wounds. Wouldn't hurt to ask again while she was getting bandaged though

>>2347256
No harm in letting her see if it is fresh enough

>>2347174
>>You should at least have morphine for that. Your role in command needn’t continue now.
Hard for me to say, but were down on our last Stitch anyways. Id like to save it for a more life threatening issues.

>>2347174
>>2347192

>Consult with Maddalyn on whether a Stitch Spell can restore the arm fully. If it can, use it.

Ask Maddalyn to see it, if she feels up to it (I know she's hurt and I don't want to push her) and it could actually repair her arm then not only would it help keep Viska alive, but improve the morale of the White Eyes.

>You should at least have morphine for that. Your role in command needn’t continue now.

If it can't actually repair it then morphine and a proper bandaging.

>>2347256

Second

“If you would stay a moment more,” you reiterated incompletely, as you slipped down into the hull of the T-15 and peeked around the big, boxy radio case, and reached out to get Maddalyn’s attention, as she was facing front. At first you went for her shoulder...but thought better of it at the last minute, and instead poked her cheek. Maddalyn turned lazily towards you, eyes dull and downcast. Her jacket was still open at the top, in order to not abrade against the bandaged wound too much, and her other cheek had turned reddish-pink where you struck her earlier. It hadn’t been meant to be that hard…

“Whuh?” she mumbled at you, as though coming out of a trance, “What is it?”

“I need,” you held a finger to your lips as you made your voice lower, “To know if you can heal something.”

“What?” Maddalyn repeated, then following your lead, “What sort of something?”

“The lady I’m talking to, her arm’s been blown off, below the elbow,” you said, not mincing words about it. “You put Krause’s leg back on earlier. Could you do something like that for her arm?”

Maddalyn took a few seconds to answer that, as though she had to remember it, even though normally she was so quick about saying whether she knew something or not. “…Do you have the arm?”

“No.”

“Where was it lost?”

“A few kilometers away. They didn’t take it with them.”

Maddalyn sniffed loudly. “I can’t help, then. The spell can’t make stuff that big grow back, especially if it’s something like a hand. I couldn’t even close it off. Trying would probably make it worse.”

“I see,” you muttered morosely, “Thank you.”

As you began to climb back up, Maddalyn whimpered pitifully. “I don’t know how you can stand it…”

“What?” you looked back, “Stand what?”

“All the noise, the shaking…” Maddalyn breathed lightly, “It’s…Mm. Never mind. I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

You heaved yourself back up to Viska, who was waiting patiently. “Sorry,” you told her, “I thought I had an idea. In any case, your role in command needn’t continue now, since we’re here. You should have some morphine, at least, and those bandages changed, or at least wrapped more.”

“I will endure,” Viska said dismissively, “We haven’t much longer back here. It is not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, I simply do not see the necessity.”

“But-“

“Kommandant.” Viska coughed, “I must stand. I can lie down before my comrades when I am dead.” With that, she stood up, and tried to pull herself out of the turret. Thought she didn’t ask for your help, she thanked you nonetheless when you got out first, and lifted her out.

-----

The sound of battle had faded from nearby, besides the odd few shots, and your battered company had taken some time to take stock of their inventory and casualties, such as they could in hastily assumed reactive positions, as the White Eyes finalized preparations to move. While you waited for an update, though, you had some time to yourself.

>Seek out or address anything or specific information before heading out?
>Orders for the other two companies, whether to keep heading south for you to meet up with them, or for them to try and link up with you directly while you were idle? (Them linking up on the move has a possibility of being messy)
>Other?

>>2348095
>Orders for the other two companies, whether to keep heading south for you to meet up with them, or for them to try and link up with you directly while you were idle? (Them linking up on the move has a possibility of being messy)

A big part of the plan involves us moving in strength, so we're going to need them to help cover the move plus making us that much more tougher looking. It will also give the White Eyes more time to round everyone up.

>Seek out or address anything or specific information before heading out?

1. Loch's plan: Is he attacking or waiting for us to return?
2. What percentage of our combined force is combat capable?
3. Is the Sandstorm still going strong?
4. Check in with our Strossvald boys, tank commanders plus Bat Company, did we sustain anymore wounded?

>>2348139
Aaaand I never answered the first question:
Have them meet up with us here, don't want to risk them getting into a fight.

>>2348139
+1
Seems very sensible

>>2348139
Supporting this

>>2348095
>>2348139
Seconding this
Also hug Maddalyn, becase she seems like she needs it.

Loch was called once again, but only to make sure of his progress. Indeed, just as before, he was driving the Republic’s troops forward; however, as they were on foot and slower than their foes, in addition to the general lack of effective anti-tank equipment, there was little to be done other than keep up pressure on the enemy. Nevertheless, somehow, the offensive was being maintained. When pressed for exact distances, Loch was as ignorant as you, unfortunately; though he claimed to be no more than five to six kilometers away, judging from how the both of you guessed as far as general movements had gone.

One thing that was certain, though, was that the enemy was concentrating themselves even now. Loch told you of how the troops had been seeing less and less isolated formations, and of how many more encounters resulted in attacks being held against, rather than prompting naught but flight from your foes.

“Mind you, this fight is as political to them as it is to us,” Loch said sagely, “They can’t suffer a loss. A temporary setback, certainly, but if they’re sent reeling and beaten back from whence they came? If Todesfelsen was ever united, their current state is a far cry from that. A decisive leader may bind them together once more, but there is little patience for failures.”

“Would be nice if they fell in line to honor our own victory,” you muttered bitterly, then blinked, catching that last thought by the tail before it left your head. “Wait, that isn’t your plan, is it?”

Loch laughed at you, not with uproar, but in the same, light and airy way as always, a polite and carefully constructed laugh. “Goodness, Lieutenant, you must think me either an incomprehensible genius, or completely harebrained. No, like everything until now, I have planned carefully and meticulously, for the greatest possible victory, and the worst possible defeats. For me to even think that what you propose would be plausible, I would need to wait for the vanquished to return home, with their tails betwixt their legs; something they may not even cooperate in doing.”

“The greatest possible victories and the worst possible defeats, huh,” you muttered, not believing a word of Loch’s self-aggrandizing, “So how well have I made your plans turn out, then?”

“Dear Lieutenant,” Loch cajoled coyly, “That would be no fun to tell you now, would it? Instead, how about we discuss…the weather?”

“I was curious about that, yes.”

”A curious thing, these dust storms,” Loch said wistfully, “They’re quite predictable, truly. Their winds swirl in from the sea, and something about them takes quite a while for them to break up. From the south, they blow, yet to these people they seem to come from nowhere. They’ve no reason to keep in contact with one another, after all. Information is gold, and the weather can be a surprisingly powerful thing to know of in advance.”

“…How much of this did you plan?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“The point, dear Von Tracht. These storms do shrink, though more slowly, and one only has to ask those who were in its path to figure out how long one can exploit it. If my investigators did their work properly, and I assure you, they did, this storm has another two hours or so before it passes over completely.”

“I see.” You replied sullenly, “We had plenty of time for this battle to play itself out, didn’t we?”

“And you were so eager, and jumped forward so soon! Yet that gave us all the more time to exploit, now that we’ve taken the opponent’s first advances away from them.” Loch gave you an overture, “The chaos of war. Plans made for naught at the blink of an eye, yet when the lids open once again, so many new possibilities reveal themselves, in that beautiful eye. Speaking of, say hello to the Von Blum girl for me, if you would be so kind. I’ve other matters to attend to, others to reassure that a script is still being followed.”

You harrumphed in response to that, and stripped away the headset.
----
The company commander, his staff, and the platoon leaders (in one case, acting) met with you shortly, so you could compile how many resources you had still available to you. 3rd and 1st companies had still only taken light casualties, after all, even since the assault on the Gash, but 2nd company had been through hell both there and in this battle. In case there was fighting before your allies rendezvoused with you, you had to know what you had.

The news wasn’t good. The last battle had taken a terrible toll on 2nd company, and, to be true, to call it a company any longer would be misleading. With seven tanks and most of the panzergrenadier complement either struck down or used to recrew knocked out tanks with wounded or killed crew, only one reduced squad of the grenadiers still rode atop the vehicles, with the gaps filled by Bat Company (itself not a company at present either, but that was normal) and the White Eyes you rescued earlier, whose weapons had been supplemented with enemy captures at some point when you weren’t watching. It was heartening though, to see that despite the state of the formation, all were still in high spirits.

“We’ve done nothing but win, and win,” the 2nd Company’s captain boasted, “We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of today.”

Their confidence high but their numbers not, the platoon whose leader had been tragically killed was rolled into the other two tank platoons, to boost their numbers back to something close to what they had originally departed with.

The other companies, you’d check in on later, since so far as you knew they’d only suffered one to two tanks knocked out in this battle, and though they’d taken casualties at the gash, neither formation was as battered as 2nd company; were you to guess, you’d wager each company had nine tanks; enough for three platoons of three each, still, and additionally, they doubtless had many more panzergrenadiers.

The next tally to look over was more personal; that of your own platoon, and Bat Company.

Of your platoon, two tanks had been knocked out; well, one and a half. Von Igel’s, earlier, in addition to his crew having mostly been wounded; the officer and the wounded were both sent back to Battalion HQ then. When Krause’s tank had been hit, you had very nearly lost your officer, but Maddalyn’s intervention there had saved his life. The tank’s turret couldn’t be similarly cured of its ails, however, and though the m/28 could still function as a vehicle and transportation for riders, its gun was locked in place, and thus the tank was unsuitable for battle. Von Metzeler’s m/28 had been damaged, its hull gun struck and rendered useless; considering the power of the 13mm against light opponents, this was worse than it normally would be, but at least the radio operator had only been very lightly wounded by the rear of the gun striking him as it was hit. Other than that, you had suffered no new wounded; besides Maddalyn, of course.

That left Bat Company.

Rolled 4, 3 - 2 = 5 (2d4 - 2)

It wasn’t hard to find Bat Company, as they had all congregated with their leader at the PzA-19; the armored car looked to have weathered some abuse of its own, parts of its brown paint torn away to reveal steel beneath; in other places, a long hidden Strossvald blue.

“Captain,” you saluted Honnrieg, who saluted back.

“Lieutenant,” he said, not fatigued in the slightest, “Isn’t this great?”

“…In a way,” you admitted, unsure of whether the sting of your losses should stain the laurels within your reach, “What are you casualties?”

“Ah,” Honnrieg’s smile slimmed down, “Yes.”

“Three wounded,” Honnrieg told you, “One dead.”

“Dead?” you asked, a sudden, unexpected sadness coming over you, despite in all likelihood you never having learned his name. So far, over the course of this whole journey, none of those who accompanied you had died. There had been wounded, two of Bat Company had been left in East Valsten after the battle in the mountains, their wounds being too bad for them to be able to continue onwards with you, but none of your brave volunteers had perished. You’d been spared from that, until now.

“Lieutenant,” Honnrieg walked forward and put a hand on your shoulder, “The first one’s never pleasant. But look here. None of us got in Bat Company without being fine with what might happen. Don’t mourn too much. We all signed our wills when we got into this here company, and we signed them again when we followed you here.”

“I see.” You said dully, still…processing things. You’d killed so many, yet only one death made you feel so mortal? You’d expected this at some point, you’d been advised on what to do if it happened, but the high of battle wasn’t here to take the edge off. Could you be blamed for being morose? “How about your wounded? Can they still fight?”

“Well,” Honnrieg looked at a few of his soldiers, who were roughly bandaged, one whose arm was in a sling, another whose eye was covered by a ragged wrapping, “Can you still fight?”

“The day’s not over yet,” one proclaimed haughtily, “I’ve still got a Shining Shield to earn!”

“You get one, and I get two!” said another.

“Hurrah!” all three wounded spewed out. “Til Valhall!”

“Uurah!” came a response from your tank.

Honnrieg beamed. “Lieutenant, lend us your Yaegir for a while after this, yeah?”

You nodded back to him. “Certainly.”

One last business to attend to, since everything to do directly with fighting was over. You crawled back into the tank, and to the forward hull. Malachi saw you coming, saw the look on your face, and nodded, moving past you into the turret.

Maddalyn was still quite shaken. She shivered, and her eye, pupil narrow, stared straight ahead. You poked her cheek again, and once you had her attention, you pulled her into your arms and embraced her tightly. Without a word, Maddalyn wrapped her arms around you as well.

“I-I’m…so s-scared…” she sobbed into your shoulder, “I c-can’t stand it. The feeling, or how pathetic it is…that I’m the only one who is…”

“There, there,” you stroked her sunset hued locks, running your hand over her head tenderly, “Everybody is scared. It’s alright to share in that.” Well, except an officer of the Archduchy felt no fear. That was for fighting, though. There was plenty to fear outside it and leading to it, even after.

“B-but…” Maddalyn tried to protest, but couldn’t will up the energy to do so, and she submitted to the petting, letting her chin seat itself next to your neck. “…All of these people dying, though, and I can only think about myself, and the people who are close to me…I thought I’d changed more than that.”

“Changed?”

“…Nothing,” Maddalyn nuzzled into your collar, “Nothing.”

“We’ve almost won this thing,” you reassured her, “You won’t have to endure this for much longer.”

“Mm…” Maddalyn still clung tightly to you, “…What are we going to do after this?”

“Besides going back home where we belong?”

“I mean…right after.” Maddalyn said cautiously, “Just to…take my mind off of this, for a while…”

>I dunno. I figured I’d join everybody else in getting wretchedly drunk and feasting til we vomit. Seems about a proper way to do this.
>I’ll be up all night and the next morning figuring out how we can get out of here as soon as possible. If I spend any more time away from the Archduchy I’ll start to fear for my commission.
>Well, I don’t know about you, but I was thinking we could consummate our marriage early. Really early. Nobody will complain, considering, will they?
>Other?

>>2348599
>>I dunno. I figured I’d join everybody else in getting wretchedly drunk and feasting til we vomit. Seems about a proper way to do this.

>>2348599
>I'll confiscate asome sort of hot and sugary beverage with my officerial authority, and we'll spend time huddling together and planning out our wedding.
>Unless you have something else on your mind?

Consummating the marriage sounds enticing, but in Maddy's condition we might be essentially pressuring her into it, and that's not something I want to do. On the other hand, planning her wedding is something any girl likes to do.
And the rest of the options are too egotistic.

>>2348605
This, maybe a return to the restaurant we visited earlier?

>>2348605
Agreed and supporting

>>2348605
Sounds good

Before, during or after the award ceremony? Maybe the marching band can be convinced to toot for us too if we don't take to long

Update soonish.

>>2348862
Open air eastern cuisine or cafe a la Riverman?

The idea of what you wanted to do, after the both of you having come close to being killed and maimed so often over the course of this mission, came readily and without invitation to mind. As soon as possible, you’d take Maddalyn into private quarters, strip her naked, and do your utmost to add some branches to both of your family trees. The polite thing would be to wait until after you were married, but time away from home and in the midst of these mad lands had eroded some of the commitment to archaic tradition. After all, it wasn’t like anybody checked for blood or anything like that any longer. Such things had fallen out of favor after Kaiser Alexander’s conquest, and had vanished near completely when the first Archduke raised his revolution; a minor thing cast away along with prohibition of more egregiously out of date ideas, such as slavery and serfdom, which the Kaiser’s puppet leaders had been allowed to continue in the wake of conquest.

However, with Maddalyn in a state such as this, quivering in your arms and close to weeping from the events of the day, which hadn’t even ended yet…

Perhaps you weren’t a social butterfly, but you knew better than to propose to deflower her at such a moment as this. Even worse would be if, in confusion, she said what you wanted to hear rather than how she felt about it. She did seem so terrified of displeasing you, at times. If that were to coerce her to doing something she was unwilling to do…you would have to be lower than garbage to take advantage of her in such a way.

“I was thinking,” you pulled your petting hand back to spin some strawberry locks around your finger, fron the side of her face, “I would confiscate some sort of hot and sugary beverage with my newfound authority,” you tucked the curls you were playing with behind her ear, “and then we can spend time huddling together and getting to planning our wedding.”

“Ah, that sounds…nice,” Maddalyn was hesitant, apprehensive, despite speaking about something that she must’ve known about for some time. “I never really thought about that, to be truthful. There was always some reason or another to think the time would never come…”

Rolled 56, 43 = 99 (2d100)

“I’d hope I’ve won some faith by now, else I wouldn’t know what more I could do.” you said, only slightly hurt and mostly in jest, and you nibbled on Maddalyn’s newly revealed ear; it was round, like much of her facial features, and lay rather flat against her head. She wriggled a bit as you did so, and in a flash of worry you ceased. “Did you have any ideas for what to do?”

“Could…” Maddalyn sniffed, “Could you do that thing you were doing for a moment more? I…I like it.”

Well. You couldn’t turn down a request like that, could you? Even if it wasn’t really what you’d asked about. You bit down on Maddalyn’s ear softly, and tugged on it lightly before giving it a little kiss on the outside, and holding on.

“Hiiihh…” Maddalyn sighed appreciatively, as she sank deeper into your caress, her body relaxing. You wondered briefly if you should lick her ear, too…it seemed like something more akin to a crude prank a crass child would play than anything intimate, though. Was coming up with new ways to kiss somebody supposed to be this awkward?

You kept a careful ear out for any interruptions as you let your tongue out just a little and experimented apprehensively. Maddalyn did not protest in the slightest, and for your part you were quite thankful that your fiancée seemed to take great care in cleaning her ears, though you didn’t keep up this new thing for long. It just felt strange to do, no matter if Maddalyn liked it or not.

“…Okay,” Maddalyn said, though she didn’t pull away, “I’ve occupied you enough. You should… get going.”

“If you insist,” you released Maddalyn from your grip, and waited for her hands to slide off of you.

“…Though,” Maddalyn murmured, “As for what I wanted to do…I think I want you to do that some more, later.”

Goodness.

>roll here is for 1st and 3rd deviation from rendevous point; weather is difficult to navigate in, and not everybody knows to make certain of your compass heading, if they have a compass at all! DC 60 roll under.

File: tcq_dustbattle16.png (2.6 MB, 1400x1200)

2.6 MB PNG

Rolled 3 (1d6)

Though everybody was ready to move a few minutes after the impromptu cuddle session with your fiancée, you all lingered just a tad longer. With you stationary, it would be easier for the rest of the battalion to come and find you, rather than risking being unable to find one another, two mobile elements among many enemies, in the midst of this awful visibility. The Death Heads, if Loch’s assessment of the situation was correct, would almost certainly not be sitting still. That alone could identify you to your allies. As your involvement in this operation appeared to be heading towards a close, you did your utmost to plan against any tragic accidents occurring.

As soon as your force was concentrated, you had readily informed all involved, you were set. Nobody would dare stand in the way of your escape, especially not if you took the southeast route, where no strong forces would reasonably go to.

The only risky element was this crucial time, where a strong enemy could blunder its way into your company and the white eyes. What you’d do if that was the case…well, you’d find out depending.

>Rolling for encounter: 1 is nothing, 2-3 is infantry, 4-5 is mech, 6 is a surprise! Higher, naturally, is worse for you; same category doesn’t mean same numbers. A small number of one might actually be more of an opportunity than a large amount, though…

A report came from the perimeter, minutes before you expected your allies to arrive. Infantry, definitely Death Heads, came an eager report from one of the pickets, an energetic White Eye, and a lot of them. When prompted, he couldn’t recount their numbers reliably; they were numerous and spread out, he had claimed, and in a more excitable tone, he mentioned something that caused your ears to prick up; several trucks.

“Around how many do you think there were?” you inquired of the thin and short White Eye, who couldn’t have been older than sixteen.
“A few dozen?” he didn’t sound very reliable in his estimation, “Maybe more? There was a few other groups just like it, fanned out. But they have trucks, and they’re coming from west-southwest!”

They must have been infantry fleeing from Loch’s line, likely able to outpace the Republic solely because of their desire to leave, and not to secure ground. They probably had no interest in tarrying, as to not be left behind any further by mechanized allies.

If they blundered into you, it could prove to be a fight; not one good for the infantry, either, for their numbers alone. The Death Heads had proper modern weaponry, after all; machine guns, perhaps even mortars for some, depending on what size the formation truly was, though it certainly sounded like more than a platoon. Strossvald formations had light mortars as part of company structure; were the Death Heads similar, or would they have a more conservative structure lacking in light support?

Something risky but still possible to try, was to bet on a lack of infantry portable antitank weapons. Anti tank rifles were oddly rare in Sosaldt, you knew, and if you charged this unfortunate lot with your platoon and 2nd company, perhaps you could intimidate them into laying down their arms? A healthy prize of prisoners to round out the battle, maybe?

>Keep low and hidden, avoid contact and hope they go around or slip by.
>Make a show of force with your armor; they should crumble easily. They’d be insensible not to.
>Show a strong face with your infantry; no way that they want to commit to a gunfight with the lines the way they are now.
>Pick up and leave; you’ll meet 1st and 3rd company halfway. Maybe there’ll be a risk of friendly fire if some people are mucked up or tired, but it’s better than risking another fight with the enemy.
>Other?

>>2349871
>>Show a strong face with your infantry; no way that they want to commit to a gunfight with the lines the way they are now.
>>Light Armor to the flanks, heavier armor with the White Eyes but a little behind, so that the sand storm might obscure them.

See if we can catch them in a crossfire. I dont want to risk the tanks in close quarters, incase they have bundled tnt or something.

If they dismount to engage the White Eyes, good, we might be able to take the vehicles lightly damaged, if they attempt to race through, they'll come into range of the heavier tanks who can hopefully just mg down the lead vehicles and the rest will get it.

>>2349945
Supporting, it's too good a chance to pass up.

>>2349945
Supporting

The arrival of this bedraggled bunch of Death Heads wasn’t a threat; it was an opportunity! An opportunity especially for you to get your hands on some much needed motorized materiel. But how to go about it..?

The plan you came up with was an ideal one for troops such as the ones under your command; complex conceptually, but (theoretically) easy to execute. So long as the timings were right. You had just enough mobile radios to be able to actually communicate such timings, too; the 2nd Company’s commander, yourself, and Krause’s m/28. Von Metzeler’s m/32 had a radio as well, yes, but the less work it had to do, the better.

You’d creep about the enemy’s flanks, and let them crash into a wall you would erect right in front of them. Perhaps a bit much for what you anticipated to be fighting, but the point was to be a show of force; the enemy would have no idea that only seven tanks and your own platoon would be facing them. If they’d heard reports of anything close to what your numbers would be, an attack coming from three different directions could be seen at a glance as the entire battalion coming down on them. In this weather, who could tell for certain whether or not they were being attacked by a whole company or but a platoon? Especially with the weight of fire you intended to put down on them. Yes, despair would carry this victory. If they stuck it out, or had reinforcements nearby, or even if your flanking force accidentally discovered that there were more enemies than you’d thought…well, that wouldn’t happen.

A minimal guard was left with the wounded, along with the m/32, just in case. Out of all your tanks, that was the one you trusted to hold off a sudden raid to the rear; if only because no other tanks than the T-15 you commandeered came close to being as well armored or armed.

The mood among the White Eyes, as well as some of the grenadiers still around, was uncertain, and as you rode just behind them you heard gossip, while seeing hushed discussion taking place as well. They could hardly be blamed; until just now, they had thought that they were going to be leaving, and no more fighting would possibly harm them. It was all about the bigger picture, though. Were they in your position, there would be much fewer complaints, you were certain.

The two Republic platoons, designated as “light” (junk would be more accurate, but…), one with Krause leading, the other with 2nd Company’s bombastic leader. Both were willing, but 2nd Company’s Captain could hardly believe that he had been given yet another chance to snatch glory. How many of the Republic’s green officers would be hardened veterans after this, you wondered.

Regardless of the mood of each of the contingents, they all at least marched forward.

Your two platoons went wide around, and soon you could scarcely see them; it was just about then that you reached the point the watch said they’d seen the enemy infantry approaching. Not at the exact point, of course; forward scouts constantly came back and forth in order to tell you when to stop, and wait.

So you finally did, listening to far off sounds of combat, while you waited for this final one to begin. You also waited, at the same time, for something to go terribly wrong. The weak point of the plan was if your flanking platoons were detected by something they couldn’t handle, and if that happened…you might have to abandon this operation altogether.

>Roll up to 3 sets of 2d100 to check for observation of the two platoons. First is north, second is south. DC is roll under 60, degrees of failure and success applying. Naturally, the north is more likely to have contact.

Rolled 10, 40 = 50 (2d100)

>>2350347

>>2350356
Let's just keep this roll LOL

>>2350360
Yeah I'm not touching that

>>2350356
I am thrilled to know that our North Scout Corps possesses Psychics.

“Damn, that was close,” came Krause over the radio uncharacteristically stressed.

“What?” you demanded of him, “What is it?”

“Enemy tank platoon. Big ones, like yours, about three of them,” Krause relayed to you, “We saw them going over the rise. We’ll hold in terrain defilade until they pass, so we might be a bit behind…”

“Fine enough,” you said hurriedly, “I only want small fish in this net.”

As the delay there happened, you checked in on the other flanking element; they saw nothing, though they did see the very edges of the formation you were hoping to intercept.

“Not sure if they see us or not,” the 2nd Company Commander growled, coughing noisily after, “I’m thinking they know we’re close, since they’re sorta shying away from our direction. Not that there’s much room before, you know, they hitcha.”

“I understand.”

“So when do you want us to hit them?”

“Wait until they hit us,” you admonished the hasty eagerness of the company commander, “The first shot will either be my line, or them shooting at my line.”

“Hmmf.” 2nd Company grunted in annoyance.

The question of who would see who first was up in the air; they may not have known you were waiting for them, but your own uphill position as well as its tanks would be more visible even in these conditions than the oncoming Death Heads. Your flankers would tell you if they adjusted course around you, though, and if they didn’t change course you’d spot the trucks in any case.

The atmosphere about your hastily assembled line was as tense as violin string as you heard what sounded like trucks, motors chugging and grinding energetically over the weather.

>Roll up to 3 sets of 1d100 for your awareness check. I’ll roll against yours when you’re through.

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>2350401

Roll under, I should say. I know I don't consistently say it but I do try to mention when it's roll over instead, since the usual is roll under unless it doesn't feel appropriate.

>>2350401

Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>2350509
Shit

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>2350401

>>2349822
By the Judge, Maddy.

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>65

Woke up. Still sort of tired, have to drive.

Getting this roll out of the way in the meantime.

>>2350848
HA HA

That's bad right?

>>2350891
If it is I'll take that back but until then I stand by what I said

>>2350891
It could be worse. It's just a spotting roll.

Anyways writing against my better judgment.

The sound was there, but the sight wasn’t, you thought as you observed the shifting walls of dust before you. Eventually, even that was fading.

“I need a status report from both of you,” you demanded of your flanking platoons, “They’re not approaching us.”

Some moments. Then, the reports came, and they correlated one another oddly. The enemy weren’t moving. Had they recognized that they were entrapped? Were they planning to dig in, or were they going to try and break out of their perceived situation? Was any of the enemy close enough to help them with that, or were they waiting for another group to engage you from the east, so they could hit you from the west and force you out of the way? They could very well have radios to plan such a maneuver…

“Commander?” Krause asked, “What do we do?”

>There’s nothing for it. We’ll have to attack them ourselves.
>If they have an idea of the situation, maybe we can negotiate. It might waste time, but maybe we can come to an agreement on something. We’ll send a representative under a white flag. There’s some recognition of such things out here, isn’t there?
>Nobody will come for them. We’ll wait.
>We’re exposed, and they know it. We’ll wait until the rest of the battalion gets here, then we’re leaving.
>Other?

>>2350982
>>There’s nothing for it. We’ll have to attack them ourselves.

>>2350982
>retreat, we succeeded in stopping their advance and we're sitting ducks out here.

>>2350982
>There’s nothing for it. We’ll have to attack them ourselves.

>>2350982
>>There’s nothing for it. We’ll have to attack them ourselves.

>>2351006
Retreat? In our moment of victory?

>retreat, we succeeded in stopping their advance and we're sitting ducks out here.

Please guys let's not kill ourselves with romanticism

My thinking is we'll be vulnerable while retreating. And if we happen upon other enemies, we'll get attacked from two sides.

>>2350982
>There’s nothing for it. We’ll have to attack them ourselves.

Tanks first, I doubt they have much that can penetrate our armor.

If it recall correctly this is leaving the front line so just stopping them doesn't really help us.

Sorry for the delays. Sleep deprivation is a hell of a drug.

“There’s nothing for it,” you told Krause and everybody else listening, “We’ll have to attack them instead. If there are any forces coming to help them, they could link up and try and catch us while we retreat. This enemy is much simpler to deal with here than later.”

“So charge?” 2nd Company asked eagerly.

“Yes, at once.” You doubted the Death Heads had much in the way of anti-tank equipment for standard troops, or whatever equated to them; you certainly hadn’t seen any in the contingent you attacked in the mountains. One had to presume that anti-armor duties were left to the tanks, more worth perhaps being seen in mobile guns rather than less flexible towed platforms. Thus, even the light guntracks could wreak havoc. Your only concern was if the Death Heads managed to pull off something clever in fighting them; if they somehow had explosive charges or used grenades cleverly, or even used the low visibility to board the numerically inferior tanks…

Come to think of it, there were plenty of things that could go wrong for the light platoons if they fought poorly, but they did deserve a bit of confidence in them after all this, did they not?

In any case, all of you would be striking at once, and the only direction you were leaving open was towards Loch.

You shouted your orders to attack, and while some cheers came from the Republic and Bat Company, the White Eyes weren’t nearly as enthusiastic. It would be fine, you wanted to reassure them, but this was no time to assuage concerns. They’d fought through much worse odds, anyways; their persistence would be rewarded in the end, whether they knew it or not.

Your vehicles, the T-15, the m/32, as well as Bat Company’s armored car (though suited to the light platoon’s operations, it was chosen to round out the infantry attack instead) led the way, the supporting infantry a wide, sweeping tail behind, jogging forward without warcry or fanfare. It was the sort of terrain and attack that you thought would be suited to wild whooping and hollering, but it wasn’t as if their absence was a bad thing either.

Rolled 83 (1d100)

Just as you saw the trucks, and not even certain shapes of men, though, a withering wall of gunfire greeted you.

>1d100 for fire effectiveness due to imprecise fire; DC 40 roll under to do anything substantial.

The fire was wild, and imprecise, and though loud and great in volume, most of it went just in front or over and around the tank, which by extension missed most of the infantry. Your foot soldiers, thankfully, realized that the enemy may as well have been firing blind, and they did not fall to the ground or show any signs of discouragement.

Gunfire chattered to the north and south; your flanking elements, teasing the lot before they committed, presumably waiting for you to strike deeper before going in themselves.
Naught to do for your group’s part but continue forward. But should you respond to the enemy’s fusillade?

>Begin to bombard with the main gun. Some high explosive shells should shut up their token resistance.
>You had to focus on helping the infantry attack. Fire smoke, despite your dwindling reserves (you won’t shoot enough to run out; two shells at most, out of four or five)
>The formations was too wide for the tanks to be a proper wall, but the closer they got, the more of an effect they could have on enemy morale. Continue forward.
>Other?

>>2352036
>>Begin to bombard with the main gun. Some high explosive shells should shut up their token resistance.
Preferably away from the trucks

>>2352036
>>Begin to bombard with the main gun. Some high explosive shells should shut up their token resistance.

The sooner they know just how out-gunned they are the quicker this will hopefully go. They don't have to die today.

>>2352036
>>Begin to bombard with the main gun. Some high explosive shells should shut up their token resistance.

“Diver, halt,” you said first over the intercom, then over the platoon network, “All vehicles, stop. Provide fire support from here.”

“High explosive?” Stein asked you.

“Yes. Shoot away from the trucks, if you will. I want those intact.” You advised your gunner as Jorgen opened the breach of the cannon with a turn of the screw handle. “Wherever looks like there’s a machine gun.”

“Ehh,” Stein made a noise lacking in confidence, “I can hardly see any of them, they’re all prone or something. I can go for the muzzle flashes, maybe.”
“As long as shot is going out,” you said as the breach closed again, with an explosive shell placed within.

“Schott lohde!” Jorgen announced.

“Fire at will,” you said coolly, as you popped out the top again; you didn’t count on being targeted, not if you kept low and your silhouette close to the tank. You needed to see your allies’ progress.

“’Lo again, Kommandant,” you heard a vaguely familiar voice say blithely, and you whipped around and held up an arresting hand before the offending soldier could position his gun.

“To the right!” you hissed at him, “Any fire support will be provided from the right of my head.”

The awkward adjustment was made, and a brief, if sarcastic prayer was sent to the Judge for sparing you from another shower of scalding brass. Though wouldn’t you be more of a target, now..?

Hopefully not.

Besides the machine gun support coming from (or atop) the vehicles most of the offensive’s shooting was done haphazardly, on the move, and in understandably much less density than the enemy’s. This was the most dangerous part of the battle; when the enemy wasn’t certain whether or not they should surrender, or when they had decided, but hadn’t finished telling everybody yet.

>Roll a 3d100, up to three sets, best of. This will be made against enemy rolls.

Rolled 8, 72, 3 = 83 (3d100)

>>2352357

Rolled 66, 37, 87 = 190 (3d100)

>>2352377
Yeah okay.

Well I don't think anybody would want to mess with that, so here goes for the foe.

Rolled 6 + 5 (1d8 + 5)

The first barrage from the vehicle support either did more damage or spooked the enemy harder than one could reasonably hope for from so few shots; the incoming fire lessened, eerily, like the eye of a storm had passed over, and the attacking force that had passed in front of you gained new encouragement in this diminishment of resistance. The White Eyes surged forward, diving to the ground a good twenty meters ahead and opening fire with what little ammunition they had. The rate of fire was unlike anything you'd imagined it would be; entire platoons seemed to fire at once with thunderous report.

Meanwhile, 2nd Company’s commander couldn’t help but boast of his success. To use many less words, as well as more polite ones, he had put them to flight with a furious attack.

Krause, however, was having less luck.

“One vehicle destroyed,” he informed you, displeasure leaking through the professional tone, “It appears some of them have improvised explosives, rather powerful ones. They threw one into one of our allied tanks, and it has been completely destroyed, while damaging another of our group lightly. We are continuing the attack, regardless.”

“Acknowledged,” you replied firmly, taking solace in that the other two angles of this attack were doing so well.

>Dice for casualties in main fight: bonus is applied to enemies; final results are multiplied by three
>In the past these sorts of fights were roll high…but I forgot to write it in here. So your roll was lucky in more ways than one.

Rolled 5, 1, 4, 5, 5 = 20 (5d6)

Fatality roll. First two are friendly, latter three are enemy.

“They’re throwing down their weapons!” came a shout from the front lines just after a third shot erupted from your T-15’s cannon, “Quit shooting, quit shooting!”

The fire died down, but slowly, and you peered across the battlefield as you saw the enemy riflemen slowly stand to their feet and raise their hands. There was no cheer of victory from the troops, though, no claps on the backs or singing; merely a pregnant silence, as all sides involved, on foot at least, realized that they hadn’t died that day.

The casualties were acceptable, given the scale of the fighting, you found out as the troops reconvened and gave reports, while rounding up the surrendered enemy in silence. Twelve wounded, six more mortally so. Compared to the enemy’s nineteen and fourteen, it was quite light.

“Wish we’d killed more of them,” you heard a White Eye comment to another as you passed by, on a search for the enemy’s commander, “We’ve already got enough people to herd and carry as is. I sure as hell don’t want to cart around the wounded of these shitheaps.”

“Make ‘em carry their own. I don’t see the problem.” His comrade replied sharply.

“More wounded means we’re slowed more. We got those trucks, we can stack our hurt on those. They’re not worth it.”

You moved past that conversation.

The leader of the bunch was easy to find; his stained chest plate marked his rank, a fragment of some shell or another freshly embedded in it; a testament to its lifesaving prowess. He stood defiantly as you approached, accompanied by some escorts of your own.

“Yeah, we give up,” he said loudly to you when you told him who you were and that you were here to accept his surrender, “I hear you don’t shoot prisoners. Hope I didn’t misjudge your character.”

You almost responded that he would hardly be one qualified to be a judge of proper morals. The question of what to do with the prisoners and loot was pertinent, though…

>Take no prisoners, but don’t kill them; send them marching west. Whether they were rescued by an enemy or captured by Loch wasn’t your primary problem at the moment.
>Take them all prisoner. You counted on not encountering any enemies on your way out, anyways, even if it occupied some troops to maintain security.
>Let them go, but take their wounded.
>Other?
Also
>Just take the trucks, and put whatever weapons and ammunition you could collect into a pile and blow it up with the White Eyes’ “slingbombs.”
>Have all of the weapons and ammunition redistributed to the White Eyes or loaded into the trucks, you’d only take materiel.
>Other?

>>2352470
>>Take no prisoners, but don’t kill them; send them marching west. Whether they were rescued by an enemy or captured by Loch wasn’t your primary problem at the moment.
>Have all of the weapons and ammunition redistributed to the White Eyes or loaded into the trucks, you’d only take materiel.

File: wew.png (433 KB, 600x592)

433 KB PNG

>>2352427
>In the past these sorts of fights were roll high...
>Rolled 8, 72, 3 = 83 (3d100)

L-Lucky us eh lads?

>>2352470
>Take no prisoners, but don’t kill them; send them marching west. Whether they were rescued by an enemy or captured by Loch wasn’t your primary problem at the moment.

Leave them some of their field medkits.

First things first:
>Other?
Interrogate him about whether or not he radioed his commander about the attack and whether enemy reinforcements are coming.

Specifically say that we can take his most wounded to try and keep them alive and if he is resistant to that then he probably called in the attack in which case:
>Just take the trucks, and put whatever weapons and ammunition you could collect into a pile and blow it up with the White Eyes’ “slingbombs.”

>>2352474
Supporting this

>>2352483
This sounds good

The Death Head infantry (company, as it turned out) leader was your first order of business. Your plans were going to change based on what he told you; and until you knew for certain the likelihood of your looting operations being interrupted, you’d hold off on deciding whether to have all the equipment loaded up, or blown away.

“Name and ra-“ you stopped yourself and cleared your throat, “…You are the leader of this band?”

“Sure. No rank, I’m a draft dodger, eh heh heh. Heh.” The Officer looked meekly at you, like you were supposed to be amused. “What. I guess you want me to tell everything, yeah? Hope not. We’d be here all day.”

He was rather flippant for a defeated enemy. Something common among these people, it seemed. Or was it that you didn’t inspire fear? Was that good though, or bad…

“You saw us, and readied against an attack from us,” you accused, “You have radios, yes? Did you make a call for help?”

The sallow faced officer toyed with the jagged piece of shrapnel in his breastplate, not paying you much attention. “’Course I did. Got told I was outta luck, though. I hoped a bit that we’d be tough enough for you to not bother trying, since we’s thought you were just that bunch behind the lines, not…y’know, all the tanks everywhere.”

“So nobody’s coming to reinforce you?”

“That’s about what I said.”

“Convenient. As a trade for that information, I’ll do you a favor. I’ll take your most heavily wounded off your hands; I’ll be using your trucks to transport them and our worst hurt to medical help as quickly as we can. Would you be alright with that?”

The Death Head captain stopped wiggling the shard of metal, and instead grasped it firmly, plucking it out and looking quizzically at it. “What’s the catch?”

The catch, you thought, Is if you hesitate on this offer, I know you’re lying about an ambush coming to get us.

“There is no catch.” You stated bluntly, “We’re letting you go, too. Head west,” you pointed in the direction, “You might run into some of your friends who will take you with, or you’ll run into our people we were running from, and you can surrender to them. I don’t care which.”

The brigand-soldier gave little pause to that, and tossed the piece of metal he had been toying with onto the ground, watching it bounce once before burying itself. “Sounds good to me. I don’t think anybody gives much a’ shit anymore. How many of you fuckers are there? Definitely way more than Arek thought there was, that’s for damn certain.”

A bit of you relaxed, when seeing how compliant the beaten foe was. “You’ll find out after we win all of this. For now, let me tell you what the lot of you are going to do…”

The negotiations were simple. All of the Death Heads you’d caught would gather in one place, taking their weapons with them, strip off their equipment and deposit both that and the weapons in a pile, and turn around and head west. It was hastily arranged and would doubtlessly turn into a mess, but you weren’t interested in dragging around prisoners, but on the same note were very interested in the equipment those prisoners were carrying; not the least because the White Eyes had shot away what little remained of their ammunition they had left. The Death Heads wouldn’t have known that, which was good, as the White Eyes could do naught but train largely empty guns on the beaten foe as they unwittingly rearmed their former enemies.

Not that the tanks didn’t help with the intimidation.

If the Death Heads eventually noticed the situation, they didn’t care, as White Eyes scrounged up the abandoned gear as soon as it was dropped, or even went so far as stripping the things off of prisoners before they reached assembly, telling them to go away after they had taken what they wanted. Leftover things, as well as the White Eyes’ previous weapons, were stacked in the captured trucks, as well. Most White Eyes, you were told by some White Eye leaders, felt rather attached to the weapons they came with; this would have to be a luxury you would grant. You brought up the possibility of simply dropping them in a pile to return to later, but you were rebuked on that, and told that that proposal was inadvisable.

Of the four trucks, one was completely stacked full of weapons, a few others having some crammed wherever they could fit, while the wounded who were unable to march were tightly accommodated in the remaining space. While the Death Heads’ most severely wounded were taken with yours, the rest were left with their own. You felt compelled anyways to at least let them have stretchers, as well as a fair share of the medical equipment, which was all stashed in one of the captured trucks; two others had been empty, while the fourth had been sparsely loaded with some spare ammunition, which was quickly redistributed when found.

While all of this was being done, a courier on a sputtering motorcycle arrived to inform you and the other leaders present at the site of the battle that the rest of your battalion had finally arrived; they would be ready to leave whenever you have the word.

You told them that you would, thankfully, be leaving very soon.

3rd Company brought up the rear, and 1st Company the east flank, while your platoon and what was left of 2nd company took position at the front, leading the White Eyes company plus to the southeast as planned, hoping to slip between retreating enemies and those who hoped to reinforce them, so you could take a nice position back behind the infantry line that had formed to oppose the same foes.

Making it back wouldn’t be quite as easy as you thought, though; while you did have compasses and a vague idea of where you were going…the storm still made visibility a terrible challenge, and you anticipated that you’d do more than a bit of wandering before you made it back safe and sound.

>Roll up to 3 sets of 1d100 to avoid getting lost in the storm, DC 60, averaged. Failure will result in delays.

Also, since this’ll be the last update for tonight,
>Anything you want to address when you get back to your own lines?

Your haunted tonk waits patiently

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>2352729

>>2352729
When we get back try to get a total casualty count of the entire battle, also any updates on the fighting in the city.

>>2352729
I won't roll over this!

>Get Maddy proper medical care (probably her own, since we'd have left combat and there'll be no need to save the charms)
>Get Viska proper medical care before she keels over. I don't trust her own judgement.
>Redistribute the best crew left to the best tanks left.
>Give commendations to the soldiers who distinguished themselves.

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>2352729

Please stop rolling before you roll 80+, anons.

>>2352783
Supporting. If we don't have any official commendations to give, a word in public is the next best thing.

>>2352839

It's averaged and with the two previous rolls it's impossible for us to fail now, even if someone rolled 100. That said I won't roll because there's no reason to and I don't want to use up the good luck streak we seem to have.

The journey was much shorter than expected, which didn’t make hearing the enemy just out of sight any less unnerving when it happened. For the sake of keeping your profile as small as possible, the whole formation was huddled as close together as it could be. This helped keep everybody together, but if a single person were to even come vaguely near you, your mob would be an extremely attention capturing carpet of worn down fighters. Perhaps though, they’d be thankful you were just on your way out.

It could at least be appreciated that you weren’t near enough to Todesfelsen to encounter any mines, but the lack of architecture and particularly noteworthy looking landmarks was disconcerting. Without such things, even though you knew that you were heading southeast, and then after a few kilometers, straight south, it felt like you had gotten terribly lost no matter how sure you were that you were still at least traveling in the correct direction.

Out from the dust curtains, before you, eventually came a set of blocky shapes. Alarmed at first, for a very brief moment, their size and stationary character ensured that your caution was replaced with curiosity instead. A village, weathering the storm in ruddy houses not dissimilar to the village you’d been to earlier, albeit without any particularly tall buildings. Intrigued, you bid the whole battalion to stop, and you set out to investigate with your “muscle.” You’d be the one asking any questions, after all. Your accented companions need not do anything except in an emergency.

The cottage you knocked upon was inhabited by a wide eyed, stocky middle aged man with bushy and tangled facial hair.

“Who’re yew?” he demanded, talking loudly over the wind, “Don’t look like anywun locawl. Onna them Bloody Suns fellers? Dunno why else ya’d be ‘ere, specially in a faller. So long as yer not with them night trolls.”

“Night Trolls?” you asked. A local gang, perhaps? “Who are they?” This question turned out to be a terrible mistake.

“Yew don’t know about dem Night Trolls?” the man seemed astounded, “Well, come in here outta this blow, an’ I’ll tell ya…” you accepted the accommodations, even though when you walked into the cottage, you were assaulted with the pungent scent of garlic in various states of age. It was an all in one space, with a stove, a table with chairs, and a bed in the same space. A bedraggled old cat with long fur and a flat face slumbered in a cardboard box on a shelf, presumably once stocked with cans, whose labeling had long faded from legibility.

“See, Night Trolls, they’s a crafty bunch,” the villager said vigorously, in a harsh voice not meant to travel far, “They come bout when’er the sun don’t shine. They’s hate the smella garlic, tho, so you’s safe in’eer, an’ you ain’ onna, that’s fer sure.”

These were not creatures you’d ever hear of, and you weren’t interested in learning about, but whether you were interested or not was no longer this fellow’s concern.

“They’s come, pretendin’ to be travelers, wantin’ to stay, but when’s you goes to sleep….BAYUM!” He shouted deliriously, startling all but him and sending the cat scrambling out of its box and under the bed, “They’s eats ya alive!”

“…Fascinating,” you flatly commented.

“Fascinatin’? Well, ya’d think so, til yew knews how terrible they was! They’s gots to be annayaladed, but nobody’s thinks to do it! Says they’s don’ exist, well, I tells ya, thas’ ‘zactly what dem night trolls wants yous ta think!”

The door called to you in a primal, instinctive manner, like it was a pretty lady flashing her knickers at you.

“…We actually had some questions, besides about…that.” You resisted the urge to bolt.

“Yeh?”

“Do you know if any soldiers have passed through here, or near here?” You had noticed, in your attempt to escape what you were fairly certain was the actual night troll, that a crude observation tower had been built in a corner of the room, with a ladder going up to glass, judging from the way faint light shone down. “Tanks, or trucks?”

“’Sides the whole bunch yew came wit?” the man combed through his scraggly beard with clawed fingers, “Nay. Not in weeks. Get somma dem Dead Heads checkin’ in, somma, but now, jes’ noise, an’ all north. Fightin’ too. Maybe they’s finally getting’ them night trolls…”

That was thankfully all you needed to know. “Well,” you turned about on a heel, “Thank you for your cooperation, but we’ve got to go kill these…night trolls.”

“Yew givum hell!” the loony cried after you as you beat a hasty retreat back to the tanks.

-----

With (albeit unreliable) intelligence that no Death Heads had passed close to that village in some time, you felt a little more confident about heading straight south. You may have gone a little further than needed, just to be safe, but after what felt like a suspiciously long time heading due west once more, you ran into a very surprised Republican skirmish line.

“Tarnation,” the patrol leader had hooted at you, “Almost took you for Death Heads! You’ve certainly been places, from the looks of it!”

You had, you wanted to say, you’d certainly had. A courier was detached from your group, to accompany a patrol leader to spread news of your return up the line, while at the same time you gave the long awaited message over the radio back to High Command, that you’d accomplished your mission, and had arrived back at friendly lines.

The storm was beginning to thin out as you and the White Eyes together marched slowly up the line, until you had all reached the forward HQ, as the lines, you’d heard, had gone far forward enough that operating out of Wossehnalia was no longer ideal. The headquarters had also become much busier, as you recognized personnel from various branches of the Republic’s army newly present, including Blue Barbs attaches who stared dourly from the sidelines, conversing amongst each other while waiting for any engagement from Republic officials.

Loch was not there; instead, overseeing these operations was the venerable Brucker, who appeared satisfied enough with the current state of matters to be indulging in a cup of tea, sourced from God knew where.

“Von Tracht,” he acknowledged your presence, “My congratulations for a successful mission.”

You bowed instinctively. “It is an honor.”

“An honor indeed, given that your battalion put these loathsome creatures to flight,” Brucker rapped his fingers on the edge of the cup thoughtfully, “Yet for what cost? What are your casualties? Are you able to continue fighting in the same capacity as you have been?”

You had been prepared for this question, and snapped out the list you had compiled, as casualties were finally recorded in better depth on your trip back up the line.

“Our Fourth Company was completely destroyed in combat,” you listed the worst news first, “All vehicles and men lost, missing, or captured. We encountered a powerful force, and they were overcome too quickly to react without delaying the operation, with significant risk attached. The Second Company is at approximately fifty to sixty per cent strength. Our First and Third Companies took relatively few casualties, though, and the Headquarters section was able to completely avoid combat, so the battalion staff is completely intact, with the only courier losses being those attached to Fourth at the time of their routing. Counting losses from our raid upon a fortification referred to as The Gash, as well as to enemies before then, we’ve been reduced to approximately five-sevenths of our original strength. Twenty five tanks knocked out and unable to be recovered at the time of operations, with approximately one hundred and four either killed, missing in action, or captured, and forty three wounded and recovered.”

Most of the casualties were a result of 4th Company’s complete destruction. If you’d been in a position to rescue them, you would have anticipated to have recovered many more wounded. It could only be hoped that you’d be able to recapture vehicles and stranded crews and grenadiers.

“A heavy toll,” Brucker said, sipping idly, “But not near to that suffered by our White Eye allies. If your reports of...perhaps one and one half companies, is correct, then more than sixty per cent of their manpower has been lost. They are no longer a combat capable formation, as a battalion. They shall be dedicated to the reserves, along with your battalion.”

“Reserves, milor…sir?”

“In the time since your departure, we have been able to bring up the majority of the army,” Brucker explained, leading you to a splayed out map, which looked to be hastily drawn from a reference collection of what could be gathered. Improvised pieces showed formations; it was rather fascinating to see, laid out with string, the theorized path of your own battalion and its mission. “With our numbers such as they are, the remaining enemy force is no longer a threat to us. As we have beaten the enemy here and forced them to retreat, in spite of the losses we took baiting them out here, they are no doubt wary of making another offensive move.”

“That’s good,” you said, “what of the situation in the city?”

“Confusing, and difficult to be certain of the circumstances,” Brucker summed up impatiently, “While numerous irregulars have betrayed the cause of the…revolution, for lack of a better term, many of what could be called the professional army are standing back. Notably, the battalion of armor unaccounted for, after skirmishing with the Mercenaries we have to the north, apparently went north in their entirety, and bargained with these “Iron Hogs” to accept them into their ranks. Our allies told us this with much satisfaction, of course.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“In the short term, perhaps,” Brucker grumbled, “It would be better if they had surrendered to Miss Vang, and bolstered the Republic, however…” he sighed roughly, “The reputation of those sellswords appears to be more appealing to…other mercenary brigands.”

“Reputation we don’t have.”

“Naturally.” Brucker placed the tea and the saucer the cup rode upon on the table, gently. “You have no immediate orders, Von Tracht. Make whatever arrangements you need to make, send the wounded into Wossehnalia to be treated, but be ready for further orders.”

Viska, you discovered upon getting back, had been hustled away with the other wounded upon returning to your lines. Might as she would have liked to hide her wound forever, members of her staff had kept mum about knowing it as well, and as soon as relative safety had been returned to, she had been rounded up and driven off to the aid camps to the west, at Lord Wossehn’s city. Your wounded were sent off too…save for Maddalyn.

The fighting was over, you had urged her, and she could use the one spell tag she had left to heal herself now. Assured of safety, Maddalyn had accepted.

As you helped her get at the wound again by unwinding the medical tape from around her body that kept the bandage in place, you couldn’t help but notice just how little of her there was; it was lucky indeed that the bullet had hit such a benign place. Maddalyn kept her arms huddled around herself, holding up her blouse modestly as you slipped the strings that normally held her top on her shoulders off of her.

“You and I are the only ones here,” you teased her; the crew had all vacated the tank. “It would be fine if you let that down a bit more.”

Maddalyn shook her head. “Don’t be a pig. And…it’s embarrassing. I’m scrawny, a runt in every sense of the word. Baring myself would only bring shame.”

“You’re certainly an expert on how you look, despite you being unable to have ever looked in a mirror,” you pointed out as you poked her cheek.

“I know enough what most women look like,” Maddalyn sulked lowly, smoothing out the prepared spell on her thigh, “I know that I am lacking, and that people think me a child when they look at me, and would think lesser of you for that as well.”

“Let them think that, then,” you said to that, “I’m almost done here. Are you ready?”

“Mhm.” Maddalyn said as she almost bit her finger, but stopped, instead peeling off the bandage, now unbound by tape, as you took the gauze away from the exit portion of the wound. The ritual was commenced, and soon enough, it was as if she’d never been shot at all.

“Come on, then,” you tugged at her shoulder as she pulled the strings to her blouse back up, “Put that jacket back on, I’ve gotten a report that the mechanics are coming with our proper tank. We’ve got to move our secret weapons back aboard, you included.”

“Okay.” Maddalyn was still sullen, though not in a way that belied any frustration. “…Fighting isn’t like how I thought it’d be.”

“I’ve heard that’s something a lot of people say after going through it.”

“No, but,” Maddalyn insisted, “Is it alright to say…that I don’t know how to feel about it? I tell myself that I’m not afraid to die, but when I got shot, I was terrified…I tell myself that I’m not in danger, yet the noise everywhere made me think I was going mad, I claim that I can make up for my weakness with things only I can do, but my mind goes dark when it matters most, and it takes others to bring me back…” Maddalyn touched the bruise you’d left on her cheek, “Is that really alright, to end up being so wrong?”

>If you’re having second thoughts about risking your health, that’s a good thing. That’s just common sense.
>You did good work today, don’t fool yourself into otherwise. I don’t know what I would have done without you, even if I didn’t get shot myself like a fool.
>Nobody fights alone. We’re all weak in our own ways, and no tank is crewed by a single person. No good one, at least. Don’t worry about it.
>Other?

>>2354185
If you’re having second thoughts about risking your health, that’s a good thing. That’s just common sense.
but
>You did good work today, don’t fool yourself into otherwise. I don’t know what I would have done without you, even if I didn’t get shot myself like a fool.

Hopefully when we've finally rescued those people you won't ever have to worry about fighting again.

>>2354361
Supporting

>>2354185
>Kiss Maddy

>>2354185
>You did good work today, don’t fool yourself into otherwise. I don’t know what I would have done without you, even if I didn’t get shot myself like a fool.
>Nobody fights alone. We’re all weak in our own ways, and no tank is crewed by a single person. No good one, at least. Don’t worry about it.

>>2354544
Also this

“If you’re having second thoughts about risking your health, that’s a good thing. That’s just common sense,” you said, trying to get Maddalyn to brush off her concerns about herself.

“That’s not very reassuring,” Maddalyn grumbled back, “Considering you and all these people would be clearly have lost your faculties long ago, by that logic. There are things worth putting your life on the line for.”

Well that served you right for trying to agree with her.

“That’s not…” you interjected, trying to regain balance in this, “You did good work today, alright? Don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise. I don’t know what I would have done without you, even if I didn’t get myself shot.”

“I only did…” Maddalyn started, but she stopped herself. “I just felt like I was making my problems everybody else’s. That’s not…”

“Nobody fights alone,” you cut her off, “We’re all weak in our own ways, and no tank is crewed by a single person. No good one, at least.” You weren’t aware of any single person tanks, though you couldn’t imagine how one would work anyways. “Don’t worry about all that.”

Maddalyn huddled into herself, disappearing somewhat into her jacket’s collar as she buttoned up the thing. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be complacent, not with how I am now. I’m just…not good enough. For anyone.”

Oh for heaven’s sake.

“Maddy,” you got her attention, before grabbing her under her chin and bringing your lips to hers. You both held there for a few seconds, and Maddalyn loosened her hold on herself, until you parted, a trail of Maddalyn’s saliva coming with you. You tried to catch it on your sleeve, without making it look like you were wiping your mouth. Maddalyn stared into your eyes dreamily for a second more, mouth slightly open, before she shut it and snapped her gaze down.

“…I didn’t deserve that. You only did that to make me feel better about myself.”

“Nonsense,” you pushed her head back up with two fingers, “Even if that were the case, would you rather I stop?”

Maddalyn pouted and looked sideways. “…No…”

“I’m glad we agree,” you said, going in for a second time, but Maddalyn stopped you.

“W-wait,” she sad hurriedly, “Before that…” Maddalyn’s lack of confidence was clear as she raised her hands to her chin and muddled her fingers together, pushing them back and forth, “…I like it when you kiss me, but I don’t know if…if you truly like doing it to me. I want to know, if there’s some way I could make it better. Could you…give me some advice?”

>Well, for one thing, don’t drool all over me when we kiss. That’s nasty.
>I’d rather you get into it some. You just sort of sit there, and make me do all the work. That’s not very exciting.
>You don’t need any advice. You’re fine as is. Now let me get in there.
>Other?
Criticizing more than one aspect of her kissing at once won’t end well.

>>2354814
>>I’d rather you get into it some. You just sort of sit there, and make me do all the work. That’s not very exciting.

>>2354814
>I’d rather you get into it some. You just sort of sit there, and make me do all the work. That’s not very exciting.
Encouraging a more pro-active Maddy is important.

>>2354814
>I’d rather you get into it some. You just sort of sit there, and make me do all the work. That’s not very exciting.

>>2354814
>I’d like you to stop thinking you don't deserve it every time we do it.

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26 KB JPG

>>2354814
>You need high heels or stilts, my back hurts every time I have to bend down

>>2354814
>I’d rather you get into it some. You just sort of sit there, and make me do all the work. That’s not very exciting.

>>2354899
Cheeki breeki

I am now not completely dead.

Update soon.

“I’d like you to stop thinking you don’t deserve it every time we do it,” you poked Maddalyn’s cheek again, pushing its soft puff in like you were poking a warm pastry. “It’s not a sacrifice or anything like that. I’m quite fond of eating your face.”

Maddalyn blushed hard. “W-well, that’s…alright,. I do wish you wouldn’t describe it with such words, though.”

“Also, I’d rather you get into the act some,” you told Maddalyn, who grimaced, “You just sort of sit there, and make me do all the work. That’s not very exciting.”

“I…see,” Maddalyn bit her lip a bit and looked downward, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” Still looking down, she asked weakly, “So, eh, how would I..?”

You slid backwards to the flat straightaway between the RO and Driver positions; the T-15’s spaciousness would be a boon now, though not in a way its designers likely intended. “Come over here,” you beckoned to your fiancée. Uncertainly, she crawled on her hands and knees towards you, though when she tried to go around rather than over, you leaned forward and pushed her cheek to the left, directing her to nervously crawl onto you, until she was straddling your lap, thighs on either side of yours as she sat on you.

“This is…” Maddalyn had steadily turned from porcelain to pink as she lingered on top of you, “What now?”

You touched her lips with a finger, then pointed to yours.

“Ehh…” Maddalyn tilted her head a bit and looked hopeless. Right, right, she couldn’t see faces.

“Kiss me.”

“Oh.” Maddalyn took a seemingly unnecessary moment to steel herself, before darting forward unexpectedly quickly. An unflattering bonk pinged off your skull as her crown collided with your forehead. “Oww!” Maddalyn cried, as she fell back, squeezing her eyes shut and rubbing her head.

“Take your time,” you groaned through the new throbbing in your brow.

Maddalyn opened her eyes again and studied your face helplessly, before moving in once more, only to butt her nose up against yours, disrupting her approach just enough for her to plant her mouth onto the corner of yours. She realized her mistake immediately, and pulled back almost as hastily as before, making a frustrated “Hmmmmhh..!” that sounded far too cute to be a proper expression of irritation.

“I feel like a fool…” Maddalyn whined, muddling her fingers again, before seeming to get an idea. She reached her hands forward and touched your face, and felt out your features once more. Her fingers remained on your lips this time just until the moment of contact. It was just a touch, and she only held it for a second before darting back again, but she looked immensely proud of herself. It was a step in the right direction, at least. She was wrong if she thought that would do, though.

You grabbed her by her shoulders brusquely and pulled her back towards you again, and pressed her against you, letting your back fall onto the floor and pulling her with you. You restrained yourself from your usual thorough exploration of Maddalyn’s mouth, only responding in kind to her own small, hesitant movements. Even with this rather gentle tussling of your lips, you could already feel her mouth beginning to water, and you realized that the position you’d put yourself in, under her, meant you’d sealed your own fate. Oh well, you thought as you ran a hand off Maddalyn’s shoulder you’d repay her suitably when she gave your face a spit bath. Despite the upper half of her remaining pressed amorously against you, her heinie had remained pointed up in the air, you noticed as you walked a hand down the small of her back and towards your target.

“Mmf!” Maddalyn separated from you with a huff as you gave her bottom a hearty squeeze, “Hey! I’ve told you not to do that!”

You pulled her back towards you and wrapped your lips back around hers. Maddalyn wriggled in protest of your continued molestation of her butt, but any further complaints were restrained to muffled squeaks into your face, as your prophecy proved true and her drool ran up your face and almost into your eyes. You had to rearrange things, you thought, when a shared opening of both your mouths must have allowed Maddalyn to unwittingly dribble down your throat.

One raucous coughing fit later, that had driven Maddalyn upwards in alarm, and required you to turn to your side and beat against your chest to get the offending glob out of your throat, you were left wheezing while Maddalyn’s eye darted from side to side, her face a shade of worry as she didn’t know what was happening.

“What’s wrong?” she eventually asked as you choked out the last of her spit, and wiped what had been slobbered all over your face off with a dusty sleeve.

“N-nothing,” you said weakly, “I, uh, it’s some dust that was caught in there a while back.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You heaved yourself up, the choking having driven lustful thoughts from your head, though Maddalyn remained seated on top of you, her pale thighs visible from her dress having been hiked up in the midst of your tussling. You were soon disappointed by Maddalyn smoothing her dress down again.

“I uh,” Maddalyn stammered, “I guess we’re done. It’s alright!” she said holding a panicked hand up, “It was really fun! As long as, you know, it was good for you…”

“It always is,” you said, slipping a sneaky hand around Maddalyn’s hip and towards her derriere, but she pushed it away.

“Cease that rakishness.”

“Fiiine.” You relented your attack and let your hand fall down to the hull floor. “It wasn’t much of a problem here, but if we get to kissing in a more vertical scenario, you ought to wear high heels. My back hurts every time I have to bend down so far to kiss you. Stilts would work too.” You smirked at Maddalyn as she glowered at you and exhaled sharply. “Also, I hear high heels make girl’s rear ends look better, so I would be in full support of that option. In fact, I think I might demand it.”

“I truly don’t know what you find so fascinating about that part of me,” Maddalyn grumbled as she slid backwards off of you, “Though…on that subject, is there anything you’d like me to change about…well, my appearance, in the future? Like…” Maddalyn ran a hand under her locks, “My hair? Do you like it the way it is right now?”

As is, her hair went roughly down to her shoulders, in poofy, wavy coils. Sometimes it was fluffed up and seemed to only go to down just past her chin, but right now it was at its longer length, though perhaps it could be convinced to stay another way. She wore a silver hairband, but it seemed more a decorative piece than anything.

>You could pull it back, maybe? It gives me easier access to your ears, so it’ll be good for both of us.
>Maybe you could try putting it in pigtails? Like your sister does?
>Your hair is fine as it is now, dear.
>Other?

>>2357953
>>Maybe you could try putting it in pigtails? Like your sister does?

>>2357953
>>Your hair is fine as it is now, dear.

>>2357953
>Your hair is fine as it is now, dear.

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>>2357953
Some minor thoughts before I die. First of all...

>Maybe you could try putting it in pigtails? Like your sister does?
This is a trap.

But the choice between ...
>You could pull it back, maybe? It gives me easier access to your ears, so it’ll be good for both of us.
and
>Your hair is fine as it is now, dear.

Are a little more interesting than they initially appear. There exists two possibilities to consider here, and I believe the most commonly held one is that by reassuring her she is fine as she is, it's meant to bolster her self-confidence. This supports a general outlook of trying to convince someone that their self-image is acceptable, and I think it's the default one a lot of people lean towards.

But we also have reason and empirical example to believe that Maddy takes such reassurances negatively. Rather than being reassured that she's fine, she feels inadequate, pitied, or uninteresting. When given instruction in short term however, she shows a great deal of motivation in pursuing it. Not only that, but she displays pride in having done so. The important thing to understand here is the viewpoint that by offering instruction as to how she could improve for you, you're showing interest in her and giving her direction towards an image she will value, because she believes you value it. This is a sort of pride in self by transitive property, which circumvents her own lack of self confidence.

She doesn't need to be confident in herself, or her choices, because she is confident in you, and your choices. Since she follows those, she is thus confident in herself, and in having pleased you.

Naturally this doesn't imply bossing her around, but that such things be considered at length and kept in mind when interacting with her.

That said, I vote for
>You could pull it back, maybe? It gives me easier access to your ears, so it’ll be good for both of us.

>>2357953
>You could pull it back, maybe? It gives me easier access to your ears, so it’ll be good for both of us.
>>2358045
Good point

>>2358045
>You could pull it back, maybe? It gives me easier access to your ears, so it’ll be good for both of us.

This has valid observations.

>>2357953
>You could pull it back, maybe? It gives me easier access to your ears, so it’ll be good for both of us

>>2357953
>>Your hair is fine as it is now, dear.

>>2357953
>Your hair is fine as it is now, dear.

>>2358045
These observations seem valid, but I honestly like her hair as it is.

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>>2357921
>>2357928
>>2357953
Yeah this is some top tier smut, truly.

>>2357953
>Drill hair

Surely you all agree with me but simply forgot about this patrician hairstyle?

>>2357953
>>Maybe you could try putting it in pigtails? Like your sister does?
>>Your hair is fine as it is now, dear.