“You’re shitting me. You’re actually shitting me.” The tank commander sits back, letting out a laugh, halfchoked with wide eyed terror. He looks at me, radio going back to its cubby. “An armored division.”
I look back. His face is scarred, a chance ricochet having left long cuts across cheek and mouth. One ear is missing from atop his head. “…what about an armored division?”
He looks back, and up, letting out a long sigh. “They punched through today. Finally broke the 34th meridian. Backed up by two infantry divisions, who knows how many airplanes. A whole FUCKING Commonwealth army!”
“…so, when are we-”
“We ain’t getting reinforcements for three days. They gotta setup fallbacks, concentrate the whatever fucking-” Andrei chokes out something invisible in front of him. I wait-
shuff. He turns, snapping his fingers and turning to me. “Emiya. Emiya! You’re a nice young woman who probably has someone to love, yes?”
‘I-well, that…’ I look away.
“Listen. I know you probably have someone waiting at home. Write them, for Tir’s sake! We’re going to die in… Oh, three, four hours!” A maniac smile comes across his face.
===
All of A platoon is organized into camouflaged hull down positions, alongside B, C and some infantry dug in with antitank weapons. D and E are positioned to cover us when we retreat, about six, nine hundred kilometers away. Hopefully protecting us is a pair of Talsha-G surface to air batteries, and a Field Reconnaissance Radar vehicle pair that might manage to save us from a nuclear missile strike.
One of the emptied supply trucks have carried our letters, final good-wishes, and in one case a jar of shit primed to burst when the package is opened by his neighbor. Someone passed out cigarettes. Some of us take them. I don’t, though the driver does.
The call comes. One hour left.
‘…I hope he gets over me.’ Riako’s sentimental. Maybe it’s an old money thing. Gentlemen have to be faithful and such? ‘…good luck Glasses, wherever you are.’
My tank, Glassman, awaits.
===
‘Well, shit. Fog. There goes our range advantage…’ Not only did it start to lightly rain, now we can’t see jack at even two thousand meters.
“Still nothing, Andrei.” I stare into the dull gray, waiting for someone to come out and take a shot at us.
“They’ll be here. They’ll be here, alright.”
Moments later, the first squat Renkap tank rolls out of the clouds. A ragged line, looking at us.
“Here they come. Gunner, identify tank, one thousand eight hundred meters!” I look carefully, adjusting for drop, slightly for deflection-
“SHOT OUT!”
THANKOOM!
The shell arcs out, and a puff of smoke appears a few seconds later on one of the tanks’ turrets. It stops, and begins to burn. “Good hit! Identify tank, one thousand seven hundred fifty meters, HEAT!”
Stolen novel; please report.
“Up!” Now come the enemy shells, as they start firing. Thankfully, not directed at us…
Andrei gives a cheer, and I know he’s grinning in that too wide way. “FUCKING EXCELLENT! IDENTIFY TANK, ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED METERS!”
“SHOT OUT!”
The gun booms again. His voice fades into the background. Another enemy tank explodes, one of several as our platoons hit their mark and decimate the attacking force.
“GUNNER, IDENTIFY TANK, ONE THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED FORTY METERS!”
“CENTERED!”
“UP!”
Loaded again-
Blamf! A HEAT shell explodes on the berm before us, spraying dirt up in front of my view-
BONG! The turret JOLTS as a round hits us, like a muffled hammer against an enormous bell-
“Ughn!” I shake my head, wiggling my ears to try and get the ringing to go away-
“IS EVERYONE OKAY?!”
“Alive! My fucking ears-!” I lean back into the sights, and line up the crosshair again-
THANKOOM!
“SHOT OUT!”
“Alpha 2 to Alpha elements, we’re fine. How does it look from out there?”
“GUNNER, IDENTIFY TANK, ONE THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED TEN METERS, HEAT!”
I line up on… What is that? Shape looks different. “CENTERED!”
The clank-thud of the loader slamming a shell home. “UP!”
THANKOOM!
“SHOT OUT!” There’s a quick puff of smoke in the distance and-
“Questionable. Wait… HE’S LOOKING AT US GUNNER RE-ENGAGE SAME!”
‘Fucking- that was a clean hit! No way it’s alive!’ I hastily check the sight again, gripping the stick tightly. “CENTERED!”
“UP!”
THANKOOM! "SHOT OUT!"
Another puff of smoke. And then another as someone else shoots it. The turret of this different tank slowly adjusts- “THE FUCK IS THAT MADE OF?!”
“SALKYR! HIT IT AGAIN, UP!” Andrei's voice is running ragged now, even as a shell slides into the breech of our gun. I line up on the enemy tank as it’s gun belches a puff of white smoke-
“INCOMING!”
BLANG! The turret rings again-
“Salkyr! Fucking shit!” I shake it off, leaning back into the sights, ignoring the ringing-
“…Ipaii? IPAII!”
THANKOOM! The tank rocks back once more, another puff of smoke on the enemy tank.
“SHOT OUT!” I look back and… Oh.
The spall liners for the turret cheek have burst, it was that close to going through. Our loader is bleeding from the shoulder and unconscious...!
“Circle below. How bad is it?”
Andrei is already working on him, dressing the shoulder… “I’ll call for medical. We’ve got a job to do.”
He loads another shell. “HEAT up!”
I… Look back into my sight. The enemy wave is still coming and now they have IFVs stopping and firing every so often. A few autocannon shells skip off our turret.
I target one of them instead and pull the trigger.
THANKOOM!
"SHOT OUT! Where did they get this many from?!"
Andrei takes up the radio. “Alpha Lead, Alpha Lead, this is Alpha 2… Our tank is hit and we’ve taken a casualty, no penetration. Spall got the loader. Medical?”
I see a new burning wreck, at least. 'Next target, come on…!’
The turret drive whirrs and the gun sight settles on another one of those strange tanks, looking right at us-
“LOAD IT, LOAD IT NOW!” My throat is hoarse but anything to give us a chance-
I see a puff from it’s gun. 'Salkyr.'
DZRANG! The tank rocks with a flash and then I taste iron, a stabbing pain in my side and arm-
“…now… get...” I smell smoke. Someone’s screaming. I think it’s me.
‘Get out... Get out of the tank!’
One hand reaches up to undo the lock, pull the lever, and my side feels like it’s being worked over by a dozen knives FUCK!
“Gotta… Haaagh…” Why… Why can’t I move my other arm…?
A familiar face appears at the hatch, taking my arm. It looks concerned…
‘I feel tired…’
Getting out of the cupola and climbing down, my legs give out on solid ground.
“…right? I…” Someone tries to pull me upright. Their words are... cloudy...
I… Can’t hold on...
===