BROTHERS

Chapter XII: Offensive Actions

Mel shifted his rifle on his shoulder, uncomfortable. With freshly added recruits, the platoon was already being sent out to go find the Eldar again.

Not just the platoon, though. The whole company, every bit of Charlie Company assembled to find the elusive "ghost warriors".

He shot a worried look over at Bill, got a thumbs-up in return. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked and saw Lisa smiling at him confidently. He smiled back, though inside he couldn't share that same sense of confidence.

Around him marched over three hundred soldiers, all keeping their eyes and ears open for any sign of the Eldar. The silence and lack of movement was unnerving.

Mel walked up alongside Bob, who was marching at the head of his squad, something all the other sergeants had done since the platoon was formed. He reached over and lightly slapped the outside of his gloved hand against Bob's upper arm.

Bob turned and looked at Mel, an intensity in his eyes that Mel had never seen before. "Something up?"

"No," Mel answered. "I'm just wondering. You think we'll find something out here on this crazy chicken hunt?"

Bob frowned. "I don't know whether to hope we do or don't. If we do, we might have a chance to do the Eldar some damage. If we don't, we don't have to chance losing some more Guardsmen. Either result could be favorable, or not."

Mel nodded. "Yeah, I thought you'd say something like that."

Bob arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Mel shrugged. "Ever since you got 'promoted', you've been talking so serious I have to really wonder where my old friend is sometimes."

Bob smiled. "Sorry. I guess I'm just a little on edge."

"Could that have something to do with Janet?"

"Janet?"

"Yeah. I saw you and her talking back at base."

"Just getting to know the new folks in my squad."

Mel chuckled. "If that's what you want to call it..."

"Now cut that out!"

"Yes...sir." Mel grinned.

"Bastard. I'll remember that."

"I may be a bastard," Mel replied, "but at least I'm a self loving bastard!"

Bob sighed exasperatedly. "Still a bastard nonetheless."

Mel laughed. It was good to have the spirits up at least a little.

* * *

"Sir, HQ calling," Rodney said, handing the commlink to Becker.

Becker took the commlink and sighed, putting it up beside his head as he walked alongside Rodney. "Becker."

"Captain Allen. I need you and One Platoon to move ahead of the company."

Becker couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Sir?"

"I'm sending the other platoons fanning out, doing a net sweep of the area."

"And we're point?"

"Correct. You are the best soldiers I have right now. Is there a problem? Something wrong with the platoon?"

"No, sir."

"Good. So you'll be moving forward then?"

"Yes, sir. I'll keep you posted of any Eldar sightings."

"Take care, Dennis. Out."

Becker sighed and handed the commlink back to Rodney. He took a look around, now more worried than ever. Being out ahead of the company would mean being away from any support if they ran into too many Eldar.

He turned to his soldiers and quietly called out, "New orders! We're to move ahead of the company. It's fanning out a little. I want you all to stay close to your squads and don't wander off at all. The only ones looking out for you are each other."

A round of affirmatives came in return. Becker inwardly felt horrible. He knew there was far more truth in what he'd last said than he'd like to admit.

* * *

Bob walked along at the front of his squad, watching the trees. Nothing going on.

No. wait. Something moved.

He brought his rifle up into both his hands, holding it in a position where he could easily begin firing should any target present itself.

He held up his left hand to half his squad, then began scanning the area around him. Something wasn't right.

A rustle told him he was right. A pair of bushes moved ever so slightly, some grass was disturbed. All would be dismissed as some small creature if he hadn't noticed that there were no such creatures around the area.

A sudden cry came over the platoon commlink, strapped to Rodney's back. It was not 20 yards away, and Bob could clearly hear what was being screamed out over the line.

"Eldar sighted! Eldar sighted!"

Frantically Bob brought his rifle up and shouted "Ready weapons!"

The platoon, and the woods, became a flurry of rapid movement. Soldiers brought their weapons up. Eldar appeared almost from nowhere. Autorifle and shuriken fire began spraying the forest. All in the space of just a handful of heartbeats.

A pair of soldiers were caught in the hail of disc projectiles, torn apart, limbs sliced up and weapons dissected. Concentrated fire from one of the platoon's squads cut down a dozen Eldar. Bob turned his gun on a pair of Eldar, its heavy bullets punching into their armour and killing them in seconds.

He dropped, rolling behind a bush, then came up on one knee and began sighting and firing again. Other soldiers did similar moves, going to ground or diving for cover. The Eldar didn't stay in the open either. They moved back into their hiding places, popping out to unleash a hail of razor discs before ducking back out of sight.

All around was pandemonium. Weapons of all kinds fired, hissing and chattering echoing through the jungle. Bits of trees fell or flew off, knocked from their trees by weapons fire. A small branch fell beside Bob. He simply ignored it.

The situation didn't look good, and he held no hopes for it getting better quickly.

* * *

Sara jumped behind a tree, frightened. The speed of the Eldar attack was a terrifying prospect, made worse by the fact the Guardsmen had let it happen by not sweeping ahead.

She glanced over and saw other squad three soldiers ducking into the over around her. Wilbur slammed his back into the tree by her side. She looked over at him, and he winced in pain.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Just hit this thing pretty hard."

She nodded, then turned and fired a burst at a bush that had just marked itself as an Eldar's hiding position when a hail of shuriken came from it.

Wilbur turned and fired his meltagun. A hiss and roar followed, and Sara heard him cry out with joy as a tree erupted in flames and a pair of Eldar fell from it, landing in tangled heaps on the ground.

Justin and Joseph had the squad's heavy bolter set up finally, nestled in a small dip in the ground. Justin snapped in a belt of ammunition, and Joe pulled back on the trigger. The weapon began vibrating as it spewed out hundreds of heavy rounds, the sound of its firing like a loud roar.

Sara used it as a distraction to peek out again and fire off a few short bursts. She was sure she got a few Eldar, but didn't keep her head out long enough to make sure.

Another heavy bolter added its roar to the noise around her, and a few click-whoomps followed by loud explosions told her the missile launchers had joined in the fray. Wilbur looked around the tree, ready to fire his meltagun again, but he fell backward as a shuriken passed by and grazed his chest. Sara was knocked down, landing beside him on the ground.

She got to her knees and looked down at his chest, which was bleeding pretty badly. Wilbur groaned, and she began looking around quickly for something to patch him up. She pulled her first aid kit from her side, pulling out a roll of gauze. Then she quickly pulled Wilbur's gear, flak jacket, and shirt off, giving her better access to the wound.

She tore a long ragged strip from his shirt and pressed it up against the wound. Not the best bandage, but it'd have to do. She wrapped the tape around it, making sure it was tight before using a metal clip to hold it in place.

Wilbur looked up and smiled. "Thanks."

Sara nodded. "Didn't want to lose you there. You're pretty good with a meltagun."

Wilbur chuckled, then groaned. "I'm not the only one." He nodded toward the direction of the fight.

Flamers and other meltaguns had joined in the fray, lighting up many Eldar and trees.

With the foliage burning and being shredded by frag missiles, the Eldar seemed to decide discretion was the better part of valour. They rapidly began falling back.

Becker called off pursuit to give a chance to look over the wounded. The other members of squad three congregated around Wilbur, helping him up. Jessy had a bloody bandage wrapped around her left thigh and was holding herself up on Mack.

"Jessy?"

"I'm okay, Sara. Just got hit in the leg by one of them discs/" Jessy slapped at her thigh. "It'll be good as new soon, though."

Sara nodded, then turned looked around at the rest of the squad. She saw Mack getting help with his right forearm, having a piece of rifle barrel and broken shuriken removed. She quickly turned away.

This was not a good situation.

* * *

Becker felt his heart sink as he heard the frantic reports of the other platoons. Four was badly hurt, Two was surrounded. Three and Five seemed to have met up, but were having no luck breaking through to help the company HQ.

In the ruins of a burning patch of forest, the members of One Platoon seemed lost. Their company was out there getting hurt worse than they had, but they had no idea where they were.

Becker shook his head. Might as well head back in the direction they came.

"Soldiers!" he cried. "We're moving back the way we came. We're going to try and find the rest of the company, see if we can lend our help."

He saw many grim faces nod throughout the platoon. Inside, he felt bad. They were heading back to face an unknown number of enemy, an enemy who knew well how to lay an ambush. Not a good prospect.

* * *

Bob glanced around, now more watchful than ever. They'd been ambushed once, and he knew it was only a matter of time until they were again. The Eldar were a tricky foe.

The whole platoon had their weapons at the read. Even the heavy weapons were prepped for rapid deployment and use. Bob had insisted on the squad's heavy bolter crew leaving the weapon's tripod attached, even though it made the weapon slightly harder to carry.

In the distance, explosions and other sounds signified the continued fighting going on through the rest of the company. It was getting closer. Or, rather, the platoon was getting closer to it.

He had no more time to mull these thoughts over as another force of Eldar ran up on the platoon, this one much larger than the first. Bob yelled out "Cover!" and dove for some himself. A hail or shuriken fire sprayed at the platoon. Mel was the only unlucky one, hitting the ground beside Bob with a shuriken embedded in his knee.

Bob looked down at the wound and cursed aloud. "This is bad, Mel."

"Mel looked down at him. "No shit. It hurts like hell. Can you get it out?"

"That's the bad part."

"So you're saying you can't?"

"No," Bob replied. "I can, but you're not going to like it much."

"Better than the alternative of leaving it in. Just get the damn thing out, okay?"

Bob pulled one of his Talisserra blades from its sheath and used the curved end to hook in the shuriken. Once he was sure he had a firm hold on the disc, he quickly yanked on it. The disc came free easily, thrown into the air by the force of the pull. It fell to the ground a few yards away.

Mel screamed, clutching at his knee. Blood seeped out through his fingers. Bob yanked out a bandage and some gauze wrap, quickly putting them on Mel's knee.

Mel bit his lip, then said, "Better. Much better."

"Wish I had something for the pain."

"Don't worry, Bob. I'm fine."

Bob took a look around. If only the rest of the platoon was.

* * *

The Eldar fell back, attacked again, and fell back again before the platoon was able to tend to its wounded. Becker was certain they would return.

He looked around. This was as good a place as any to fight, but it needed to be more defensible for the soldiers. For that, they'd have to dig in.

"Alright, change of plans," he said, loud enough for the platoon members to hear him. "We're going to rough it out here until we can get back to the company. I'm sure the Eldar are coming back soon. I want everyone to dig themselves a hole and set yourself up so you can fight them when they do come back. Leave your ammo out where you can get to it. Maybe your med gear too. Eat some rations, too. Conserve your water, you might be needing it longer than you think."

He sighed, then pulled his own small shovel from his ditch and found a small spot behind a bush that looked like a good location for a foxhole.

Wearily, he and the rest of One Platoon began digging their foxholes, and praying to the Emperor for a miracle to come upon them and the rest of Charlie Company.

END CHAPTER XII
Continued in Chapter XIII: An Incendiary Situation