The tank was new.
There weren’t divots and craters of autocannon or small arms left on its hull, it wasn’t scarred with shrapnel. But that wasn’t exactly surprising.
The tank I’d climbed out of had a neat little hole in the cheek of it’s turret. The big armor blocks were nicked in a starburst from whatever had hit it and faintly I could smell burnt metal inside the compartment; something had come too close to piercing the armor.
More than that though, were the two names. Scratched in, illegible now, but…
‘…I wonder what kind of people they were.’ Sometimes I dream about who they might’ve been. It’s… Weird, but hey, whatever keeps me together, I guess .A quiet tiptap of metal brings me out of my mini reverie, and I look up as a wet drop splashes on my nose.
‘Oh, rain.’ Weather reports said we’d probably be in for a day of it or so. Doesn’t look too thick, though, so our lasers should still see properly and our tracks shouldn't bog down in any mud. My biggest worry is if we've properly packed our kit, so we don't end up with soggy everything. Still though, I duck into the tank and close the hatch.
At least we're gonna look clean and maybe smell a little cleaner. Whoever thought it’d be good to cram four soldiers into the same metal room for a few hours needs to sit in with us for a mission. ‘That oughta straighten the fucker out. Lifetime air freshener supply, free of charge, and they'll throw in their firstborn if we let em out in the next ten minutes.’
I laugh a little. The TC gives me a funny look but sighs and shakes his head. I laugh harder.
===
The terrain is smooth; flatland broken up by trees and the occasional gentle hill. Kalayria's great tank country... if you've got the better tank. I've been hearing rumors, though. Boxy looking monsters, that shrug off shells like rain and can see through smoke. 'Probably bullshit. Or just people in combat making mistakes, maybe.'
Overhead, it’s raining heavier now, and all of us are buttoned up as a result. ‘NBCR guys said not to touch it, just in case. Circle below, is there going to be anything left to fight for after this bullshit?’
Our platoon is on the march, supporting the mechanized infantry.
Our platoon is on the march, supporting the mechanized infantry, and we're all looking for a potential ambush, but it's Danai sitting up in his seat that makes me lean into my gunsight. He furrows his brow as he looks through his own vision blocks. "… that's… Weird. Wait, shit!"
"Missile, Missile! Gunner, smoke! Driver, reverse! Bravo Lead Bravo Lead, this is Bravo 2 reporting ATGM!" White bursts around us, and for a little moment there’s nothing.
Thoomn… Thoomn… At first I think it’s thunder. Then I realize it’s artillery; thunder isn’t this regular and it doesn’t make our tank tremble.
“Driver-” Whatever he was saying gets lost in the noise of something hitting the tank.
BLONG!
“SALKYR!” I glance around. Nobody’s hurt, at least…
I hear the faint whine of the laser rangefinder’ capacitors. “GUNNER, IDENTIFY ARMOR, LEFT, ONE THOUSAND TWELVE!”
The turret whirrs, turning, as one of the Emayan tanks settle in my sight. “CENTERED!”
“SHOT OUT!” I pull the trigger and the tank kicks-
THANKOOM!
-as the shell arcs out towards this semi distinct blob. Suddenly, it connects and shapes jump out moments later, before flames burst from inside, throwing strange shadows as the metal husk seems to glow with an inner light.
“TARGET, CEASE! Next, right!”
The turret whirrs again, my eyes skipping across grassland, before the cross hair settles on one of the squat Emayan tanks-
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Before I can shoot, I see a brief flash of a missile’s trail and then the enemy tank explodes. “Next! Missile got him!”
“…clear! We’re good! Fucking shit, man!”
I rotate the turret back to patrol position and sigh, still watching my gun sights to make sure we aren’t missing anything… “Can you ask how our armor’s looking?”
Danai shuffles around behind me. "Sure. This is Bravo 2 calling nearby, request visual damage assessment of our turret."
A little while passes, as I start to relax, leaning out of my gunsight. Whoever’s doing the assessment takes a while to be about it, but eventually Danai nods and hangs up. "We’re fine, apparently. Nothing that we can’t fix getting home. Settling back in my chair, I crack my neck a little and buckle down. We aren't supposed to see shooting this early, so that means for me, I'm watching my sights for the next few hours while we see if they've snuck through someplace.
===
We set up camp for the night by platoons, eating rations for dinner in lieu of a field kitchen, fires being judged too visible. I take another bite of “spiced baked potatoes” that tastes like vaguely warm pepper mixed with slightly chemically tanged bread.
“…so, spiced baked potatoes is one of the shit ones, then.” I sigh, and shove the rest into my mouth, chasing it down with a gulp of water.
Danai looks at me with a look somewhat impressed, somewhat vicious. ‘Oh no.’
“No gag reflex, Ameyari?”
“Very funny. I do have one commander. Do you? I’ve heard rumors…” I keep my head down towards my dessert, though I do cut my eyes at him.
Our driver quietly calls out from the front slope of our tank. “The National Army’s least braindead tankers, man…”
Danai doesn’t turn around. “Woman, you haven’t gone out for longer than an hour in like, weeks. You live in that tank.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna get married to it, man. Make a bunch a tankettes or summat. Gonna be fuckin rad.” The quiet rapping of knuckles on metal.
Meanwhile, I finally get a bite of the waffles and caramel-
I pause, and blink. Then I take another bite. ‘This… made the day worth it. Tir bless the fucking cooks who made this, for it is their greatest creation.’
Holding back just long enough to join in, I toss a remark over my shoulder. “Pfft. Unbeknownst to you, he’s seeing the IFVs and supply vics while you’re asleep.”
There’s a pause and I swear Ryasi timed it for when it was in my mouth to say, “Well then we can share.”
Danai ends up giving me the heimlich. I think the loader broke his vow of silence or some shit to laugh at me.
===
“FIRE, FIIIIRE! FUUUUCK!” Our commander screams, his voice breaking.
“SHOT OUT!” The breech clanks and then the tank bucks, the sight kicking slightly from the recoil-
THANKOOM!
In a splash of smoke the tank under my sights bursts, seeming to come apart as the turret flies away. “TARGET, CEASE, NEXT RIGHT RIGHTRIGHTRIGHT! FUCKING LOAD IT!”
With the squeal of motors and brakes the turret slews and stops, engine noise and faint rain filling in the background, the now muted smell of shell propellant hitting my nose-
“HEAT, UP!”
I see the landscape move across my vision as we advance at full speed across the level ish terrain. Out here, only small hills and the craters of artillery break up the land, making for long multi-kilometer sightlines.
“GUNNER, IDENTIFY TANK, RIGHT, TWO THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED METERS!” Danai's voice cracks but if anything that puts a little extra hurry into my spine.
“CENTERED, SHOT OUT!” An Emayan tank settles into my crosshairs for a few seconds before I pull the trigger and the tank bucks again.
THANKOOM!
The smoke clears in a moment since we’re on the move, but it reveals one decidedly non burning tank. The commander's trying to school his voice back into proper discipline, and almost succeeding too. “Questionable! Gunner, reengage!”
I get the reticle on target again, adjusting a little more into the way I think the wind is blowing. The loader announces herself. “UP!”
“Shot out!”
THANKOOM!
This time I get to see smoke roll off the tank in my sight, and then the driver’s hatch pop open. “Fucked and burned! Gunner, traverse left-”
PANGK! The tank jerks hard right, grinding to a halt with the screaming of hard steels breaking or bending, my helmet saving me from a new gouge in my head as I smack against some bit of the turret and bounce off with stars in my eyes, groaning.
“Fuck, did we throw a track?!” Danai shouts, but gets only a low moan from the driver’s compartment.
I blink the blurriness away and get my eyes back on the gun sight, traversing the turret further, eyes sweeping across a dozen burning wrecks and shell craters, before movement in the treeline catches my eye.
‘A trench? ATGM team, probably.’ I flip to coax, estimate the range, squeeze off a burst, turning back my ears at it’s report.
‘Short. Damn.’
I pull up a little higher and shoot again, watching the tracers. “Commander, identified unknown, probably infantry, entrenched, maybe two thousand six hundred meters! Engaging with coax!”
“Gunner, range two thousand six hundred fifty two! Loader, HE!”
Kachunkchachunk-
“MISSILE, KYLAI LOAD IT NOW!”
I trust Danai on this one and just hold down the trigger at what I think might be the launch point, the rapid bellowing of the coax spreading out into near uselessness at this range.
Moments pass. It draws closer. “UP!”
I don’t even bother with protocol, flipping back to cannon and trying desperately to control my hands as the cannon lowers back down, putting the stadia on target.
‘Two thousand set. Six hundred set. Fifty five…’
THANKOOM!
===