The 7th Fighting Turrusks

by NDG

2nd platoon, B company, 7th Fighting Turrusks.....

2nd Platoon had reached the outskirts of Volkenstadd before they received the order to halt for the evening. Urayev fiddled with his comm in annoyance as he positioned his men within a partially ruined warehouse. Great canisters of biostuffs were strewn about the ferrocrete floor, their plasteel sides pitted and scorched as if from acid. Leaving the transports to take up positions in the debris-strewn streets, his men took the opportunity to set up the cooking units.

"Pleasant evening, eh, Lieutenant?"

"Indeed, Corporal Menev. How long before those rations are ready?"

"A few minutes more, sir. Biscuit?"

"Ya, Thanks.." taking the offering, Urayev felt a subtle shudder through the soles of his feet. He cast a quizzical look at Menev, but the corporal was still tending the stove. The shudder came again, a little more forceful. This time Menev glanced up at him, a frown on his broad forehead. Again, and a little dust sifted down from the ruined ceiling above.

"Sargeant!!"

"Sir?" Iranev's response was instant as he came up from the lower floor, lugging the Lieutenant's kit.

"FieldScanners, if you please Sargeant." The subbass thumps were growing in force as Urayev and his NCO's made their way towards the roof, negotiating a damaged stairwell smeared with various shades of red. The men of C squad were gathering around a window as he strode past, all carring anxious looks. The whole squad were new recruits, Urayev remembered, fresh from training.

"Sargeant Iranev. See to these men.."

"Yes, Lieutenant!" With that the burly NCO left his side and ploughed into the recruits, his voice echoing off the bare 'crete walls.

"Corporal, try and raise the Captain. Uncoded. General query on status."

"Yah, Lieutenant."

The Corporal's voice was a murmer to his right as a definite crunching sound accompanied the ever-increasing shudders. As he walked out onto the roof, a great arc of light pierced the deepening gloom from behind him, lighting up half of the shattered town of Volkenstadd. It came from up on high, and swayed in time to the great THUMPing, sounding like heavy artillery shells going off in the distance. Nervously, Urayev raised his scanners, gulping as he did so.

"By the Hairy Black Arse of Horus Himself…" Menev's whispered oath echoed Urayev's own thoughts, as the hulking form of an Imperial Warlord Titan came into focus. The Lieutenant arced his neck back as the monster approached his sector of the town, the footsteps of it drowning out any other sound. The warehouse was in imminent danger of collapsing when the Titan finally stopped. A smallish brick building a block away collapsed, as if of it's own violation. Suddenely a horrible whining sound split the air, causing Urayev to drop his scanner and cover his ears, screaming to himself in pain. A huge claw-like hand reached out, silhoutted in the arc-lights of the Titan. With a ponderous movement, it tore down an office block opposite the warehouse upon which they stood. A seemingly minor explosion came from the street below, and orange flames shot up through the billowing clouds of dust. Above the general clamour, a small chime sounded in Urayev's head -his platoon ops link inserted in his skull.

"Emperor damn it!" he yelled suddenly to Menev, who was trying to cower and look up at the same time. " We just took a casualty. That was B Squad's Chimera down there. Get me Captain Athaien NOW!"

"What's that thing DOING?" the Corporal yelled at Urayev, between oaths and curses.

"Most likely clearing a field of fire. Just get on to the Captain and tell him to tell IT we are down here!"

"OK, I'm on it sir. What are our grid co-ords?"

"Damn it Menev, just GET THROUGH!"

"I…" The world seemed to stop for a heartbeat as a great light erupted from just above their heads, followed soon thereafter by a terrific explosion not a hundred yards away. Both men were flung onto their backs as huge chunks of fused masonry rained down around them. Urayev screamed an oath as some debris narrowly missed him, and smaller shards peppered his face and hands. He sprang to his feet and dived for the stairwell, seeking any protection he could find. It wasn't until he was in the relative safety of the stairwell that he noticed the chiming of his ops link - Menev was no longer ouputting. Cursing breathlessly, Urayev risked a look outside. The corporal's inert body was pulped from the stomach down, lying under a piece of glassy looking ferrocrete. The rain of masonry seemed to ease, the stopped suddenely. "Sargeant Iranev. Report!" His personal comm crackled with EM interference.

"Sir, 3 casualties, all of C Squad. Damn neo's wouldn't stay away from the damned window, damn it. No others reported, sir."

"We've lost Menev, and B Squad's Chimera." The Lieutenant paused as Iranev cursed with feeling over the comm. "Get all the men downstairs, to the cellars. Now."

"Sir."

"Stolika?"Urayev spoke hopefully, not sure if there would be an answer.

"Lieutenant, what in the name of all the Gods..?"

"Comrade, I want those transports out of this area stat. Head towards the Captains position if possible…"

"We lost Kurst! That thing killed him.."

"MOVE it Comrade. NOW!"

"Yes, Sir…" The disconnect was sharp as Urayev headed back down the stairs. There was a few more shudders nearby. As bits of the roof fell down around him, Urayev staggered towards the cellars, where the platoon was sheltering. Reaching the ground floor, he was relieved to see his Command APC still intact. The rear hatch stood invitingly open, and Urayev launched himself up the ramp, catching a lump of ferrocrete on his left shoulder. Three bodies, lacerated beyond recognition, lay just inside the hatch, tripping Urayev as he scrambled inside the vehicle. With an effort of will, the injured lieutenant dragged himself up and into the commander's seat. Falling chunks of ferrocrete beat a crazy tattoo on the hull of the APC, and occasionally the whole chassis rocked on it's tracks as a boulder sized piece struck it.

Fumbling in shock, Urayev finally managed to plug the satcomm receiver mounted in the APC into his personal comm. More static, then…

"2nd Platoon, Report Status..Over"

"Lt. Urayev, 2nd platoon here. What in the Emporer's good name…" A second world-ending explosion slammed Urayev into the back of his seat, causing him to bash his abused head into the armour plating.

"Report Status, Lieutenant. Over"

"We are being crushed! Tell that damned monster out there to shut it down…"

"Transmit current co-ords via Squirt Transmission. Over"

"A Curse on your Godsrotted security. We are at Alpha five-zero by Foxtrot seven-two"

"Gods…..Copy that, Lieutenant. Over."

Urayev simply cowered in his command seat, cursing incoherently to himself as the hull of the Chimera rang to the incessant blows of the falling debris. A series of chimes in his head, portent of tragedy, roused him from his reverie. "Sargeant! Report!" he yelled into the comm, partly in fear of the news, partly to be heard over the general din.The crackling in his ear almost drowned out any response.

"Sir…" Iranev answered, sounding strangly calm. "At least five more casualties, Sir. Damn roof is damn well collapsing. Three others injured, two seriously. How long is this…"

"I'm shutting it down Sargeant. Just bear with it. Be ready to move on my command"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good man. Urayev out."

A moment of thunderous crashes from just outside caused Urayev to fear the worst, and then the incessant whine ran down. The banging outside subsided finally, also, and Urayev risked a look out of his commander's hatch. Dust filled the air, causing him to cough and struggle for breath, but silence pervaded his surroundings. Suddenely, so as to jolt him, the comm crackled back into life.

"Lieutenant Urayev. Report Status. Over."

"huh…I ..err"

"Lieutenant. What is your current Sitrep? Over"

"Err, Lt. Urayev here. Immediate danger seems to have passed. What the hell was that all about."

"Glad to hear your voice, Urayev." Gods, it was the Captain on the other end. "what is your current status. Over"

"Sir. Estimate twenty percent casualties, including one NCO. And a Chimera, sir. Most of the platoon is holed up in the cellar. May take a while to get them out. Request a rescue support team. Sir"

"They are loading up now. Princeps Harridall forwards his deepest apologies."

"Relay my thanks, Sir" Urayev replied numbly

"I expect your platoon to be prepped by 0750 SPT, Lieutenant. The 7th begins their assault at 0800 SPT. We will have titan support from the Void Hunters. Princeps Harridall and the Emporer's Sword will be supporting B Company. Is there a problem with that, Lieutenant? Over"

" No sir. No problem." Urayev stared sadly at the three corpses sprawled in the back of the Chimera.

"Good. Captain Athaien out." Gotta feel sorry for the "poor bloody infantry"