A Moment of Laxity

[exetus]

I don't know if this got archived, or not, but I can't find the original on B&C anywhere.  I've done a bit of light proofreading and improving here and there and I'd love some feedback!  Enjoy!

 

A Moment Of Laxity…

“Target, tank, zero-seven-zero, Vanq!”

“Zero-seven-zero! Vanquisher loaded!”

“Fire!”

The Spirit of Sedun shook and the already deafening roar and clank of the tank's interior was amplified by the report of the main cannon firing. The recoil jolted the crew momentarily as the long-barreled Vanquisher cannon expelled the anti-tank round and sent it hurtling towards the enemy armor, but they recovered quickly and the driver immediately engaged the gears, putting the tank in motion once again.

Captain Dax Polu watched the tracer on the round through the turret vision block and grinned in satisfaction as it impacted on the turret ring of the seditionist's tank and penetrated in a shower of sparks and a cloud of shattered armor. Less than a second later, there was a flash from the entry hole and the tank ground to a halt, shuddered and exploded spectacularly, the treads coming apart and the hatches blowing off. “Target destroyed!”

A cheer went up from the rest of the crew across the intercom, it was far too noisy inside to clearly hear another human voice without it, and the Vanquisher's long barrel began to traverse to the left, sweeping across their assigned field of fire. Polu checked the various ports of the turret vision blocks, looking for new targets and only briefly checked his auspex which displayed the other ten tanks in the spearhead formation, leading the charge into the Fernaldus Wetlands, a holdout of the rebel forces on Everinox IV since the start of the campaign. Behind them, three more companies of tanks that made up 2nd Battalion, 1st Brigade, 71st Sedun Armored Division were following at a safe interval to minimize casualties if the enemy attacked. So far, there had been scant resistance, but they knew that wouldn't last. The Fernaldus Wetlands were home to the manufactorum city of Asomogur and heavy enemy troop and armor concentrations had been reported by the intel weenies.

Emperor's black bones! Was it hot in the tank. While a very capable war machine, the Leman Russ battle tanks and their variants were hardly fitted for comfort; hot, loud, slow and hot all over again, but they were excellent war machines that worked in almost any environment and could take a beating and keep on ticking. From the front, they were monsters, but they suffered from thinner side and rear armor and, as such, used overlapping fields of fire to help prevent flank and rear attacks. Polu's company was arrayed in a typical wedge, but Polu refused to lead from the rear, instead taking point, while his most junior tank crew was line abreast with the two rear tanks and Commissar Bryza's Executioner, a rare and temperamental beast outfitted with a massive plasma destroyer cannon. Three other specialist tanks were in his company; two Conquerors that were crewed by his second and third squadron commanders and the Vanquisher, Proclamation of Justice, that was commanded by his second, Lieutenant Hurst. All in all, Alpha Company was the lead company in the entire 71st and Polu made sure that they kept their status as the best through thorough maintenance and rigorous training. That's why they were lead into this fight... first to glory! Emperor's black bones it was hot...

The auspex beeped... intermittent contact at the extreme edge of its range. “Gunner, traverse three-four-one. Ellin, Cort, keep a sharp lookout to the flanks with those sponsons! Loader, HE!” Polu keyed his mic to the intra-company channel, “A Co, we've got possible targets vicinity lima-echo four-eight-eight-two, eight-seven-zero-one. Two-alpha-six break wide and flank north of the 87 gridline! Three-alpha-six, fall back to motion overwatch four. Commissar, I need you up here with me.” Polu looked down at his gunner briefly and Elvers looked back with a cocked eyebrow. “Stay shar...”

Polu never finished his sentence as the tank to his left detonated in a teeth-jarring crump of twisted metal, munitions and promethium, raining debris onto the other tanks in the formation and spiking the pulses of the crews. Gunners read their auspexes and searched frantically for targets while sponsons traversed back and forth, heavy bolters and flamers erupting in a blaze of gunfire and liquid hell. All around the tanks the scrub brush, grass and trees were shattered and scorched into ashes as the tanks pressed on, eager to meet the enemy and avenge the loss of One-alpha-two which still echoed in their ears with the repeated detonations of the tank's weapon stores.

“Negative contacts, Alpha-six!...I can't see anything out there!...What the :cuss was that?!?!...Enemy infantry one-one-three! Engage! Engage!” Polu's headset exploded with chatter as the crews started to communicate, but all on the company channel, “ALL CREWS GET OFF MY NET AND PUSH TO SQUAD FREQS! GET SOME FREAKING! ORDER!” Immediately the chatter became curt transmissions from his squad commanders alone as his company restored order with that one call. His own crew was chattering between themselves as the sponsons targeted any cover and the main cannon continued to sweep back and forth looking for targets.

There was a sharp whistle and a hiss that was heard even through the hull as Commissar Bryza's Death's Head fired the plasma destroyer and suddenly the auspex came to life with so many contacts that the screen turned solid green in some parts. “Emperor above! Target, tank, zero-one-four, fire!”

“Zero-one-four!” Elvers slammed down the turret traverse lever and the cannon swung left, the targeting reticle settling on a menacing heretic Conqueror that was, itself, trying to bring its smoking barrel to bear on the Pride of Sedun. “Firing! Reload vanq!” The tank shoot again as he depressed the firing stud and the high explosive round shot from the extended muzzle and impacted on the front glacis of the enemy turret, rocking it back, but not penetrating. A muzzle flash indicated the return fire and the impact slammed Elvers' head back and shook the entire tank, forcing the loader to drop the Vanquisher round on his foot and shattering it as he screamed in agony. As he fell back, the driver slewed the tank to the left and a rocket whizzed past close enough to hear through the hull. “ALL TANKS ENGAGE AT WILL! ALL TARGETS ARE VALID! GLORY TO THE EMPEROR!”

Polu looked down to see the loader being replaced by his left sponson gunner, Ellin, who manhandled the round into the breech and slammed it shut. The loader strapped into the sponson, still moaning, and began laying down suppressing fire from the heavy bolter through the haze and Polu smiled grimly; his crew was well trained, even in the face of adversity. He glanced back up in time to see Elvers fire upon the enemy tank again and blow it apart when the anti-tank round ripped through the magazine. “Target, bunker! Zero-zero-two! HE!”

“Bunker, zero-zero-two! Traversi...” the lascannon speared through the right sponson and vaporized Cort and the loader on the opposite side, the magazine slamming shut on impact to prevent the rounds cooking off. Ellin wasn't so lucky as the heat dissipation scorched his hands and exploded the holdout laspistol on his waist, killing him instantly. The driver immediately tried to slew the tank back to the right but three fused wheels and a damaged gear shaft stripped the teeth of of two other wheels and shattered the linkage. With a tortured scream, the entire tread ripped free and slid from the track guides, effectively immobilizing the Pride of Sedun.

Smoke had filled the interior and the ventilation system was taxed as it sought to expel the fumes, but instead the small fire grew as the driver scrambled from his position and grabbed a fire extinguisher as Elvers and Polu tried to recover. Elvers couldn't see anything, blood pouring into his eyes from a gash over his brow and Polu was trying to force the hatch open; an immobilized tank was a dead tank and while they wouldn't flee, they needed to make sure they could get out if they had the opportunity.

Outside the tank, Lieutenant Hurst and Commissar Bryza's tanks were circling their commander's damaged steel horse reaping a horrendous toll on the enemy forces that had sprung the trap. Two-alpha-six and Two-alpha-three were in full reverse, while Two-alpha-two sat stationary, heavy smoke pouring from every vent and opening. Three-alpha-six was nowhere to be found and Three-alpha-two had taken command, attempting to bring his squad back before three rockets exploded both remaining tanks in the squad. For a moment it seemed as though they'd be able to hold off the enemy and then... disaster.

* * * *

Bryza was screaming at the enemy from the vox of the Death's Head, even as his tank vaporized dozens of the enemy at a time. His driver and gunner expertly juked and jived, hitting a target each and every time. It seemed that they would turn the tide themselves when a rocket slammed into the turret and blasted the linkage, shredding two motors.  The overcompensating system slewed the plasma destroyer to the left as the gunner slammed his thumb down on the trigger; Lieutenant Hurst and his crew never had a chance as the titan-killing blast of plasma hit them full broadside and simply burned through more than 80% of the tank, leaving a smoking crater. Even as Polu stared in shock, the plasma coils overheated as the safeties were severed and the gun glowed blue-white for a moment before detonating in a spectacular explosion that slammed into the Pride of Sedun and flipped her onto her side like a toy.  Plasma fire and promethium washed through the entire area, vaporizing the Death's Head and hundreds of the enemy at the same time.

Polu was thrown from the tank, Elvers with him, and as he slowly gathered his wits, he stared in shock at the destruction around them. Two-alpha-three was still running, but Two-alpha-six had taken a lascannon to the engine block and the crew had bailed out before being caught in the death of the Executioner tank. The only other remaining tank was the rookie crew in Madera's Revenge which had been spared much of the devastation with their position as rearguard. All was quiet in the immediate area and the company commander knew that he had to take advantage of the brief respite.

“Two-alpha-three, move into defilade behind the Pride of Sedun, One-alpha-three, back into defilade with the remains of One-alpha-six.” He received confirmation and then turned to Elvers and Alwan, the emerging driver who was, amazingly, barely bruised. “Grab the rifles and set up comms, we need to contact HQ and inform them of our situation. They should be here in a few hours.”

“Yessir!”

Thirty minutes later, the portable machine-call vox was set-up and Polu was in charge of two operational tanks and four tankless crewmen; two members of Three-alpha-six had stumbled back to the remaining tanks with their full kit and two scavenged rocket tubes. “Two-Falcon-six, this is Alpha-six... Two-Falcon-six, this is Alpha-six!”

“...pha-six, this is Two-Falc...-one, auth...cate echo-delta-zulu!”

“I authenticate X-ray.”

“Go for... con-six-one!”

“Heavy enemy encountered vicinity lima-echo four-eight-eight-two, eight-seven-zero-one!  Estimate initial contact strength at battalion-minus. Current status: Red, break!” He paused on the vox for a moment and collected his breath. “Remaining capes two lima-romeo, five on foot. Request immediate support, over!”

The commlink stayed quiet for a moment before a wash of static came over the headset, “Alpha-six, this is Two-Falcon-Six actual. Relief headed to your position within five. How are you holding up?”

“We're in a hole sir, expecting heavy enemy counter-attack at any time.”

“Hold fast, son. We're coming to get you.”

* * * *

“FETH YOU, YOU TRAITOR WHORESONS!!!” A sharp crack resounded as butt stock of the lasgun shattered on the face of the enemy trooper that had been trying to slap a melta bomb to the side of the recently uprighted Pride of Sedun. Polu was covered in small nicks and bruises as were his remaining three troopers, the fourth having been blasted by a shotgun at close range during one of the enemy's assaults on their position. Bodies littered the ground all around their small depression in the earth as the seditionists hadn't been able to uproot them from their position. Eight separate assaults that had been held at bay... but only just.

The two tanks that had survived the initial engagement continued to fire their auxiliary weapons and were taking a heavy toll on the enemy forces, but they had expended all of their ammunition for the main guns which had so devastated the attackers throughout the first few assaults. Polu's command tank had been tugged upright during one of the reprieves and inside the driver was working as hard as he could with pieces from the destroyed tanks to make her whole again. Fire control had been restored but the magazine was welded shut from the lascannon blast that had sliced into the Pride's side earlier. The men were all armed with a motley assortment of weapons and one of the more technically adept of the crew members had tinkered with their lasguns and power cells to give them more of a punch against the armored foe who had taken three or four shots to put down. The permanently modified lasguns now could punch through in a single shot but would consume three times as much power per shot.

“GET THE FETH AWAY FROM MY TANK AND GO BACK TO THE HELL YOU CAME FROM!” He spun the lasgun back around and blasted another trooper at near point-blank range, exploding his head. Two more loomed from the darkness and Elvers dove into one, stabbing furiously with his bayonet while Polu side-stepped a chop from the rusty sword the other carried before a sharp report snapped the aggressor's body around and a fist-sized hole exploded into existence on his abdomen; one of the gunners had loosed a round from a heavy stubber.

More forms could be seen running towards Polu and Elvers and they began to loose shots into the mob, dropping one or two, but not enough. Dax Polu was committed to dying for his men and as he prepared to sell his life in the service of the Emperor, a sudden whining gave him pause as the Pride of Sedun's turret swung to meet the enemy and a massive blast sat him down in the marshy grass as the cannon boomed. A high explosive shell ripped into the enemy and exploded in their midst before a crack resounded and the hull-mounted lascannon fired, vaporizing line of charging madmen.

“HAHAHA! Take that you cowardly bastards!” Polu and Elvers scrambled up onto the hull and dropped into the tank to a grinning driver, accompanied by the other two men who had joined them... five men, a full crew again! “Loader, HE! Let's show this filth the light of the Emperor!”

Any observer would have seen the three tanks and wondered what devotion could cause a man to fight on against such odds. Hundreds of the enemy swarmed around the tanks which had backed into a triangle to protect their rears and were laying down massive firepower from sponsons and hull weaponry in light of their lack of ammunition for the main guns (except for the Vanquisher). Hatches opened when the enemy made it in too close and Polu's men would shoot, hack, bite, kick and punch their tanks free of the filth. Rockets slammed into the front glacis of the tanks but bounced away as Polu screamed catechisms of hate and inspirational passages from the Imperial Hymnal across the loudspeaker. Alpha-Six would not shirk in his duties. He would not falter, no matter the odds.

When the artillery barrage rained down upon Alpha-Six's position, still he railed against the cowardice of the enemy. When reinforcements failed to show, he gritted his teeth and continued to fight along with what remained of his company and, amazingly enough, the enemy commander grew to respect a man who could not win, but refused to give up. Hope... that quintessential emotion that made humanity as great as it could be, that allowed a man to believe that in spite of the odds, he MIGHT just make it out of there. Amazing. The fighting continued even when Two-Falcon-six could no longer raise Alpha-Six on machine call vox. Beyond the lines which had closed behind their advance, Alpha-Six and three tanks of the 71st Sedun Armored Division stood solid like a rock amidst a stormy sea. But even rocks eventually give way to the implacable power of the ocean waves.

Naval vessels in orbit noted a specific sustained barrage of enemy fire at a point behind their own lines and the cogitators tried to compute why such firepower had been brought to bear for what had appeared to be a skirmish without any significance. When the smoke cleared, there was no more fighting to be seen from orbit.

* * * *

Two months later.


Captain Benham peered into the darkness from the turret cupola of his Leman Russ Exterminator and saw the shattered remains of tanks all about him. As the dozens of tanks approached and the spotlights came on, he was shocked to see that they bore the markings of the 71st Armored! The remains of a turret indicated that they were from 1st Brigade, but how were they here? He checked his position marker and noted the grid... lima-echo eight-four-eight-two, eight-seven-zero-one. Why were tanks at this position? There had been no reports of any push into this sector... the anti-tank presence was too heavy... drop troopers and light infantry had been designated to assault here, but had been repulsed time and again until the enemy had fallen back to their citadels.

As he turned to survey the wreckage, he saw scrollwork that he recognized! The Death's Head! But that tank had vanished along with all of Dax Polu's company over two months ago! He re-checked his position and called for a halt to the advance. Chimera APCs moved up behind his company and infantry disembarked, setting up a solid perimeter as he radioed in his find.

“Contact! Six personnel approaching from the east!”

“Proceed with caution, treat as hostile until told otherwise!”

Searchlights swiveled and lit upon the six men moving towards the Sedun lines and Benham's eyes opened wide... Dax Polu!?!?! Still alive!?!?

He scrambled from his tank and whipped out his bolt pistol... this had to be a trap. Beside him came Commissar Pihana, his own pistol out as well, doubt etched across his face for he, too, clearly recognized the missing company commander.

“Dax? The mountain winds scream with the rain of steel.”

Polu looked at his friend and shook his head. “Ben, the correct challenge for this time segment is 'scream with the howl of wolves'.” Benham's eyes opened wide... it WAS Dax, but how? “Nice of you to finally show up... two months and a company too late, old friend.” Polu was in a sorry state; his uniform torn and patched back together, his men the same. Modified lasguns sat in their arms, more than one showed evidence of having once belonging to heretics, they hurt the eyes to look at.

Benham shook his head and looked at Pihana whose eyes had tightened at the corners. “No Dax... we've been looking for you for two months. Ever since you disappeared over forty klicks from here. Two-Falcon-six, Colonel Adar, sent relief to the grid that you passed... the rest of the battalion, in fact... and there was nothing there. No sign of you and your men or your tanks. How did you come to be here?”

“The grid I passed? The grid that I passed!?!? I PASSED THIS GRID!” Dax's face was stormy with anger. “I've been in this feth-hole for two goddamn months, fighting to stay alive with the remains of my company in the same spot we called in from! I've been right the feth here with these men, fighting a war of attrition after they shattered our tanks, but not before we killed THOUSANDS of the filth! I've been right the feth here at LE 488 871, dying for the Emperor and NO ONE CAME!”

“Dax, that's not this position!”

“The hell it isn't!” Polu ripped out a map and threw it at his friend, “Our position is marked. Note the draw, the mountains, the fething river you just crossed!”

Benham did indeed look at the map and when he did, his surprise was evident. “Dax... this isn't the location you think it is.”

“Don't give me that, Benham, I know how to read a map! The features match up! Terrain association! We learn that in basic navigation.”

“Yes, Dax... but your position isn't LE 488 871; it's LE 848 871... almost forty klicks apart and in a twin draw to the one at 488 871... I've been to 488, Dax!  There is a command post there.  It's more than 60 kilometers behind our lines now.”

Polu snatched the map away and stared at it angrily, about to retort when he stopped short and examined it more closely. His mouth ran dry. His fingers trembled and his skin went pale. He looked again and then looked up at his friend with comprehension and fear in his eyes... “The... the numbers are reversed... I. Oh feth...” He turned to the commissar and just looked at him with resignation in his eyes.

Commissar Pihana looked first at the map, then Benham and then Polu. The man's bearing was gone. He looked at the soldiers Polu had commanded; they, in turn, were looking at their commander in disbelief that was slowly turning into anger. The man had erred and it had cost the Emperor a tank company. The advance that was to have taken two months ago had been delayed and more men lost because the tanks hadn't been where they were supposed to be. Dax Polu had failed, yet he had survived in a place where enemy strength had been rumored to be more than two divisions... the reports of enemy shelling behind their own lines now made sense. Polu had held the enemy here, even without his tanks, but here wasn't where he was supposed to be. He signed inwardly. The law was the law for a reason.

“Dax Polu, in the name of the Emperor of Terra, I hereby relieve you of your duties as commander for incompetence. Your actions have unwittingly led to the destruction of a company of the Emperor's men and your comrades. You are charged with their deaths by negligence and such a transgression carries upon it the penalty of death. However, your actions have shown you to be an able combatant as evidenced by your continued resistance thus your sentence is commuted to service within the penal battalions.” Polu's shoulders straightened a little as his sentence was altered from death to penal service. “You and your men have failed to maintain a clean and serviceable appearance, however, due to circumstances, your punishment is commuted to a flogging at half count. Your abuse of the weapons you carry and their defacement and alteration are crimes under articles IV and V and you and your men are hereby sentenced to flogging, followed by incarceration prior to penal legion assignment...” Dax's men swore just loudly enough to be heard, “...and your use of profanity in my presence under multiple instances and following my judgment is a challenge to my authority and a disgrace to your uniform, punishable by death.”

Before any could react, the commissar's hand shot up and six reports echoed throughout the clearing. “The Emperor does not accept laxity, incompetence or irreverence. Captain Benham, have your men dispose of these bodies and strike their names from the Roll of Honor.”

[WorldXploder]

I just finished this befor bed...I must say i was hooked! Great job!

[deathspectersgt7]

Great job exetus had me hooked .

[exetus]

Thanks guys!  Definitely appreciate the feedback!

[Angrons_son]

Great job

[Olis]

Very nice vignette, brother. Atypical of the Imperium at large - heroic actions don't excuse incompetence - and it was good to see Pihana acted true to form. Aside from a couple of typos, there's little I can criticise. I would love to see more from this kind of perspective, to read of the tankers of the 71st and their exploits/ignominies. 

[exetus]

I hadn't actually considered any further stories of the 71st Sedun and it was my first attempt at writing a story about tanks, but perhaps that ought to change. I''ll consider it for sure.