Death or Glory, page 20
‘Pull out,’ Piers said. He indicated the auspex screen. ‘They’re at least twenty minutes away.’ Tayber nodded his agreement.
‘We were going to blow this place anyway. Pull back to the ridge line while we’ve still got enough time.’
‘Have we, though?’ I asked. Our military units could do it, I had no doubt about that, but whether the civilian rabble would be able to get their act together in time was far more debatable. The question was merely rhetorical, however, intended to show some concern for the refugees. I wasn’t going to sit around here waiting for the greenskins to arrive, and if some of the civvies ended up acting as a shield for the rest of us I could live with that. So I nodded, as though making a hard decision. ‘It’s not as if we really have a choice, is it? Let’s go.’
To my surprise, the retreat from the supply dump went remarkably well, at least at first. The civilians were able to keep up with the rest of us, despite being mounted on the ork vehicles for the most part, and although the formation dispersed a bit, our Chimeras were able to keep them more or less reined in. My main concern had been the choke point of the main gate, the only way of getting through the berm around the compound, but everything was out on the plain and kicking up dust within little more than ten minutes.
‘I’ve got the contact,’ Orrily told me shortly after we’d lurched into motion ourselves. ‘One vehicle, medium sized. I can’t tell a lot more at this distance.’
‘That’s good enough,’ I told him, trying to hide my relief. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem all that much of a threat. A moment later, the Salamander crew chimed in, confirming his estimate.
‘It’s Imperial,’ the corporal told me. ‘One Leman Russ.’ He paused for a moment, then his voice resumed. ‘It’s leading some kind of convoy, by the look of things. There’s a much bigger dust cloud behind it, trailing by a couple of kilometres.’
‘Leading be reamed,’ a new voice cut in, crisp, authoritative, and undeniably female. ‘We’ve got greenies up our arse. Whoever’s out there, you’d better have some serious firepower or we’re flamebread.’
‘This is Commissar Cain,’ I responded, trying to hide the shiver of unease I felt at those words. ‘Identify yourself, please.’ The hint of formality would be subtly reassuring, and there was no point in being rude in any case. I’ve always found you get more out of people by making them feel as though you respect them, and if it doesn’t work out you can always shoot them later.
‘Sergeant Vivica Sautine, 57th armoured. We’re all that’s left of it, so far as I know[74]. We’re out of ammunition for all our weapon systems. We pulled in to re-supply at alpha seven yesterday, and found it crawling with greenskins.’
I shot a glance at Tayber, recognising the designation of the supply dump he’d urged us to make for instead of this one, but had the grace to refrain from saying ‘I told you so.’
‘We’ve been running ever since,’ Sautine continued. ‘I thought we’d shaken them, but they picked up our trail at first light.’
‘Bypass the dump,’ I told her, hoping the greenskins weren’t monitoring our vox channels. ‘Rendezvous with us on the ridge.’
‘Haven’t you been listening?’ she responded, with an edge of asperity I could only ascribe to the stress she’d been under and the PDF’s usual woeful ignorance of the powers of the Commissariat. ‘We’re completely dry. If we don’t re-arm we’re down to harsh language.’
‘They’re ten minutes behind you,’ I pointed out, glancing at Orilly for confirmation of my estimate. He nodded. ‘Unless you can get re-equipped that fast, the compound’s a death trap,’ I concluded, unwilling to spell out the measures we’d taken to keep the remaining ordnance out of ork hands in case our communications were compromised. Sautine was evidently bright enough to join the dots, though.
‘Confirm that,’ she said. I returned my attention to Orrily, and the luminescent rash speckling his auspex screen. Something about it struck me as subtly awry, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. After a moment the coin dropped, and I pointed at one of the blips.
‘Why’s that unit moving the wrong way?’ I asked. Whatever it was, it was fast and agile, snaking its way through the mass of vehicles with an ease and speed, which ruled out most of our makeshift company. It had to be the Sentinel, I concluded, an impression, which was borne out a moment later by a cheerful hail over the vox.
‘Don’t worry, Ciaphas, I’ll take care of it.’[75]
‘Take care of what?’ I asked, already dreading the answer. As ever, Felicia’s voice was redolent of the casual optimism I’d come to associate with her.
‘I’ve got plenty of time to get in and out of the armoury,’ she assured me. ‘We didn’t pack any shells, did we?’
‘Get back in formation,’ I said as authoritatively as I could, while making sure all the other vox links had been cut out of the circuit. I couldn’t risk what amounted to a direct challenge to my leadership being noticed by anyone else.
Felicia laughed. ‘That’s the idea, just as soon as I’ve picked up some shells for the tank lady. We’ve already got enough ammo for her bolters, and some lascannon powerpacks.’
The rogue blip was well clear of the rest of the convoy, and closer to the compound than it was to the safety of the ridge. I calculated the timing. If everything kept going at the same speed, she should be in and out by the time the fleeing tank reached the supply dump, and the two of them could reach safety together. I hoped. We didn’t have anything capable of giving them covering fire from this range, and I found myself wishing for an Earthshaker or two. (Or preferably a Basilisk, which could have done the same job and kept up with us as well.)
‘Confirm that,’ I said, bowing to the inevitable. There was nothing I could do to dissuade her, so I might as well give the impression that I’d sanctioned her actions. That’s the trouble with civilians: they keep having ideas of their own instead of doing what they’re told. I switched to another channel. ‘Tayber,’ I said. ‘Hold detonation until ordered.’
‘Yes, sir.’ His voice over the vox link was faintly puzzled, but disciplined for all that. Behind it I could hear the growling of the Chimera that Bravo squad were now riding, and the wind past the mike of his commbead, which told me he was standing with his head out of the hatch. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘Felicia’s gone back for something,’ I said, confident that he knew his sister well enough to infer the rest.
‘I see,’ he said, in a tone which told me I was right. ‘Any further orders?’
‘Form up on the ridge,’ I said, ‘just as we discussed.’ I glanced at Piers, who nodded. If the greenskins bypassed the compound we’d have the advantage of the high ground. Loaded down as we were, we were in no condition for an extended chase, we’d just be picked off one by one, and if we had to stand and fight I wanted all the edge we could get.
‘Confirm that. Tayber out.’ The link went dead. I glanced back at the auspex screen. Felicia had just reached the compound, and the tank was almost there. Outrider two was making good progress back towards us as well, the highly tuned engine of the scout Salamander keeping them out of weapons range of the orks while they moved around the greenskins in a wide arc, trying to get visual confirmation of the enemy disposition. I drew in my breath. The first blips of the approaching enemy formation had appeared at the edge of Orrily’s screen, reflecting from the small round eyeglasses he habitually wore.
‘It’s going to be tight,’ I warned everyone.
‘I’m on it,’ Felicia assured me. ‘I’ve got two pallets of main gun ammunition stacked up at the gate already. Sautine, can you get them loaded?’
‘No,’ the tank commander said flatly. ‘But we can carry them externally. It’ll only take a couple of minutes to get them lashed down.’
‘Good enough,’ Felicia said, cheerful as ever. ‘I’ll carry another on the lifter.’ That, if I remembered rightly, should give them enough to completely replenish their shot locker and still have a handful to spare.
‘You’ve only got a couple of minutes,’ I warned them.
‘Outrider two,’ our scouts cut in, underlining the point perfectly. ‘Confirm eight ork trucks, twelve buggies. They’re moving in force.’
‘How many infantry?’ I asked. If each of those trucks were fully loaded we could be facing more than a hundred greenskins. Even with the advantage of the high ground, we’d have our work cut out.
‘Couple of dozen, mainly the small ones,’ the scout confirmed, a note of puzzlement in his voice. ‘The trucks are mostly empty.’
‘They’re here for loot,’ I said, the pieces suddenly falling into place. While gutting the southern installation, they must have discovered the location of this one, sent scouts to secure it, and followed up with the heavy transport. Crossing Sautine’s trail had been an unfortunate coincidence, nothing more, but I was under no illusions that the prospect of combat hadn’t fired up their innate bloodlust. Our driver swung us to a halt, and I picked up an amplivisor, intending to assess the situation for myself.
‘Looks that way to me,’ Piers agreed, lowering the boarding ramp. I trotted outside, Jurgen at my heels as usual, and raised the vision aids. All around me, soldiers were taking up defensive positions, supplemented by the militia, while the rest of the civilians huddled in the rear, clutching their lasguns grimly. This wasn’t good; if the greenskins charged us, they were likely to open up in panic, heedless of the troopers in the way, inflicting more casualties on us than on the orks.
‘Kolfax.’ I beckoned our guide over. ‘Get the civilians moving. If the greenskins attack we’ll hold them off while you get clear.’
‘Right.’ He nodded, not bothering with even a token protest, to my unutterable relief, and started herding them back aboard their vehicles.
‘Good thinking,’ Piers said, looking at me with an expression of sober respect. ‘At least we can keep the refugees safe.’
‘For the time being,’ I said, wondering briefly if I could contrive an excuse to go with them, but overall my chances of survival were better, surrounded by trained troopers. There was a whole continent full of greenskins to get past yet. ‘And once we’ve dealt with this we can catch them up.’ I turned, catching sight of Arriot. ‘You’d better go too,’ I said. To my surprise he shook his head.
‘You might be taking casualties,’ he pointed out, ‘and if you do they’ll have a better chance with Kaeti here.’
‘Who?’ I asked, momentarily confused, and he gestured towards the ambulance, which for the first time I noticed had Kaeti crudely painted across its nose: the name of the girlfriend of one of the corpsmen, I assumed[76]. The coin dropping, I nodded. ‘What about your patients?’ Not that I was particularly concerned, of course, but it was the sort of thing I was expected to say.
Ariott nodded soberly. ‘They’re stable enough,’ he said, meaning the ones most likely to die already had. ‘They’ll be more comfortable in Kaeti, but they can manage on one of the trucks for an hour or two, and it would free up the stretchers just in case.’
‘Good.’ I nodded. ‘Get it organised, will you? With any luck we won’t need them, but it should help.’ In more ways than one, knowing there are medical facilities close at hand is always a big morale booster for troopers about to go into combat.
‘Leave it to me.’ Arriot wandered off to consult with Kolfax, and I raised the amplivisor: with a sudden flare of déjà vu, I realised I was in almost exactly the same position I’d been in when I first looked down on the plain below to see the orks besieging the supply dump.
The power lifter was clearly visible by the main gate, a pallet of shells for the Leman Russ’s battle cannon already gripped in its manipulator claws, and the tank itself was almost at the compound. As I watched, it slewed to a halt, and the top hatch popped, followed a moment later by the side ones. The crew started scrambling out under the energetic direction of their commander, easily distinguished by the headset she wore, which seemed from this distance to be a cruder and more bulky version of my commbead. They all seemed to be women, which didn’t surprise me; mixed-gender units were a rare exception in the Imperial Guard (although I was to serve with one such unit later on, of course[77]), and the PDF tended to follow suit.
Felicia dropped the pallet of shells neatly atop the left-hand sponson, and the tankies started lashing it down, while the power lifter scooped up a replacement and trotted around the hull to repeat the operation on the other side.
I shifted the amplivisor, moving the narrow image to take in the roiling cloud of dust in the distance. It was closing fast, the glint of metal visible behind it, and I was sure I could make out the dim silhouettes of individual vehicles. As I tried to bring the image into clearer focus, I was able to discern some intermittent muzzle flashes as the first few greenskin gunners gave way to their instinctive aggression, wasting ammunition in a futile gesture of bloodlust long before they could have a hope of finding a target. Nevertheless, it was a sobering sight.
‘That’s it,’ I voxed. ‘You’re out of time. Get moving!’
‘In a moment.’ Sautine sounded infuriatingly calm. ‘Lina, Belle, grab a can each.’ I turned my gaze back to the tank. Two of the crewwomen were breaking shells out of the pallet still lying on the sand. A moment later they began staggering back to their vehicle encumbered by the weights they were carrying.
‘You don’t have time for this!’ I said, my voice rising a little. Felicia scooped up the pallet and began to pilot the Sentinel back towards the ridge, moving in the peculiar jerky run common to such vehicles travelling at speed, which I always find uncannily reminiscent of a startled snowhen[78].
‘I’m not running without something to keep them off our backs!’ Sautine snapped back.
I swept the amplivisor towards the onrushing orks, then back to the tank. To my relief, the two crewwomen were disappearing inside, and the tracks were beginning to turn. Sautine scrambled aboard as the tank ground past her, flecks of paint springing from the armour plate as a couple of lucky shots found their mark, and the hatch slammed shut. When I heard her voice again, it was faintly breathless. ‘See? Plenty of time.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ I said, my eyes glued to the amplivisor. The tank was picking up speed, but the orks were closing fast, taking renewed heart from the closeness of their prey. I swallowed, my mouth dry, and became suddenly aware of Piers standing at my shoulder, equally tense. ‘Have we got anything we can cover them with from this range?’
‘Nothing,’ the young lieutenant said, his voice grim.
‘We can take care of ourselves now.’ Sautine sounded confident at any rate. The turret of the fleeing tank began to traverse, the cannon, slewing round to point back towards the advancing ork horde. Just when I was beginning to think she’d left it too late, the ork gunners finally beginning to find their mark, a puff of smoke erupted from the barrel, followed a second or two later by the muted thunderclap of the discharge.
The shot was a good one, fully justifying the risk of allowing the enemy to close the distance, detonating against the front armour of a buggy, which appeared to be mounting a rack of crude rockets. The shell penetrated the armour easily, detonating inside the vehicle, which erupted in a fireball. A moment later the warheads of the rockets cooked off too, sending shards of flaming debris pin-wheeling through the air in all directions to disrupt the enemy advance. By great good fortune, the main body of the blazing wreck slewed sideways, ramming a second buggy and overturning it. Locked together, the two piles of scrap started blazing merrily, a single stunned greenskin staggering to its feet after apparently being thrown clear, by a miracle. It just had time to appreciate its good fortune before being mashed flat by another of the ramshackle vehicles, too fixated on engaging the tank to take any notice of stray pedestrians.
‘That gave them something to think about,’ Piers commented.
I shook my head. ‘They’re still coming. Get everyone ready. The moment they come into range, I want as much covering fire as we can pour down there.’
The sand around the tank and the power lifter was being churned up by the enemy fire, rippling like water on a beach. Felicia was evading with every scrap of agility the sturdy little walker possessed, but it could only be a matter of time before she took a hit in that massive container of promethium, and when that happened it would all be over. The same thought had evidently occurred to her. To my astonishment she pivoted on the spot, continuing to run the thing backwards almost as fast as she’d been able to go forwards. (Something even a veteran Sentinel pilot would have thought twice about, but Felicia’s instinctive rapport with machinery was truly exceptional, even for a tech-priest.) Another of the buggies tried to close, and she hosed it down with the flamer. The wash of fire didn’t do any noticeable damage to the vehicle itself, but the driver was immolated on the spot, blazing away merrily like a purgation night effigy[79]. Which, being an ork, wasn’t enough to kill him outright of course, before expiring, he tried to ram the Sentinel. Fortunately, Felicia was ready for that, pirouetting the clumsy machine neatly out of his way, and the buggy disappeared over the horizon leaving a trail of greasy smoke in its wake.
‘All units stand by!’ Piers ordered, a ripple of anticipation sweeping along the line of troopers and irregulars, followed almost immediately by an air of deadly intent. Everywhere I looked, in brief snatches, reluctant to tear my gaze away from the drama unfolding in the narrow field of the amplivisor, I saw lasguns being steadied and heavy weapon teams preparing to fire. Luskins had evidently picked a target already, swinging the barrel of his rocket launcher almost infinitesimally as he tracked it, while Jodril was laying out a line of replacement rounds ready to load again the instant his teammate had fired; an alternating sequence of frag and krak rounds, clearly intended to disable a vehicle and take out the crew as they disembarked. Over to my left, I made out Demara lying prone behind her new toy, finger on the trigger, but to my vague and relieved surprise resisting the temptation to fire early, while Tamworth prepared another belt of ammunition.
