"'spose not, sir..." Jaret held out a small data-slate, "these is the reports from last night's sentries, sir."

"Anything interesting to report, Sargeant?" Tarn asked, accepting the held out slate in one hand before sipping from the cup in the other, "mmm, Caf's good this morning."

"Nothing, sir, just like always..."

"Alright, Sargeant, have three and four Guns stand to, one and two can stand down, dismissed." With a brief nod, the Guardsman departed from the tent, leaving the Lieutenant alone within. Tarn sighed gently, discarding the slate onto his bed after only the briefest of moments glancing over it. Another boring night, apparently.

He stood, moving slowly across to the tent's entrance, where he would draw back the flap guarding the entrance. The morning sunlight made him squint slightly, though only for a shot few seconds, before his eyes properly adjusted, now greeted by the rear ends of some dozen or so Basilisks sat quietly in the morning air. Assorted crews were moving back to the arrayed Guard tents nearby, whilst others moved up onto the platforms behind the massive artillery cannons mounted upon the hulls, all bearing the emblems of the Arcadian 46th Artillery Regiment.

With any luck, they'd finally get a fire mission today...

Not a big historian of WH40k myself but wouldnt things be more strict around there? the lieutenant seems to be far too laid back for a member of the imperial guard.

>>3802649
Just a guess, but they're a basilisk team in the back of the lines. Probably not too nutty back there.

CONTINUE?!?
>>3802607
>>3802610

Finishing his Caf, Tarn moved out into the morning light, taking his peaked officer's cap from a Corporal stood just outside his tent. His slow walk began to trail him across the gunline, nodding to each of the gun crews in turn as he came to their artillery piece, each of them returning the small gesture with a brief salute and a long, repeated chorus of 'good morning, sir!'.

His largely uneventful walk ended between the first gun in his Battery, and the Hydra Flak vehicle that guarded the far left flank from aircraft. Tarn wasn't really sure why it was there, currently, as he'd never known the Orks to be able to have the initiative to fly over the front lines and bomb the rear. Was it Orks they were fighting? Tarn couldn't quite recall, it had been a good few monotonous weeks of nothing since they had last seen the enemy, and even then, the enemy was a few spots upon the horizon. Vehicle Three had seen them off with two moderately well-placed artillery shells, though it had left nothing in the way of remains for the Guardsmen to analyse to see what their foe was.

The past month had seen nothing in the way of action for the Guardsmen more than an artillery strike being called in every few days, though nothing had happened in the last five days, so Tarn had assumed that the front lines were engaged within a city somewhere in the dozens of miles ahead, the high-ups tended to not like placing scattered artillery within the confines of a city, where the odd stray shell could cause them to lose precious inches of ground.

>>3802672
Only if as a result of an enemy breakthrough the basiliks have to depress the barrels to the lowest level and become a company of tankhunters.

"Excuse me, sir?" a female voice interrupted Tarn's quiet moment of thought.

He blinked a few times, shaking the last strands of distraction from his mind as he turned to face the source of the voice, the smiling face of the young inter-platoon radio operator under his command greeted him. Rather, her collarbone did, his eyes turned upwards to view the rather tall woman before him, "Yes?" was the simple reply.

"Morning orders in from Regimental Headquarters, sir," she continued, "as usual, hold position, wait for fire orders from advance spotters."

"Thank you, Corporal, anything else?"

"No, sir, sorry sir..." her smile turned slowly into a frown, as though the lack of any real orders to relay was of a great disappointment to her.

"Oh, well, there is always tomorrow for the chance that we'll move forwards..." Tarn offered her a reassuring smile before he half-turned away from her, looking out over the gun-line arrayed before the platoon's camp, "at least it's a good morning for sitting on our thumbs, hmm?"

"If you say so, sir..."

"Indeed... Indeed... Oh, ah, send our response, 'Orders acknowledged, standing by,' you know, the usual stuff, Corporal."

"Yes sir," She nodded, taking a step back before she turned and moved back into the large tent they were using as a vox-comms station. Tarn's attention then shifted back to the gun-line again as he began the slow walk back to the Hydra Flak vehicle at the opposing end of the line, almost tracing his footsteps back along through the thin layer of mud beneath his boots.

in b4 tl;dr

Is OP making this up as he goes?

>>3802760
yeah, im pretty much writing this atm

Y'know sometimes I do actually wonder what the 3 dudes crewing my basilisk are talking about when it's time to do a great deal of nothing.


Carry on writefag, seems good thusfar

>>3802778
Agreed. They spend an awfully long amount of time sitting around.

He paused in his walk, now behind the fourth out of the six guns in the line. Taking a few steps backwards, he looked out over the long stretch of land before the line, "Private Matir, why is Private Hunners walking out infront of the gun-line?" He asked, rather curious as to what the crewman of the Vehicle Four was doing.

"Ah... Well, sir, we've had a bit of trouble with the targeting systems recently and..." The man paused, glancing out to the slowly distancing figure of a Guardsman wandering off, "well, we decided to do a bit of short-range firing to see if we could sort it out... and we needed a target."

"You're going to fire at Hunners..."

"No, sir! He's got an empty shell case that he's gonna put down about three hundred feet out there, we'll be trying to hit that."

"I see..." Tarn's eyes drifted from Hunners upwards to the Guardsman stood aside the rail of the vehicle's gunnery platform beside him, "Don't do anything stupid, alright Matir?" he said, "and do send for me before you commence firing. Have your vehicle's driver alert the Battery sargeants before you load up."

"Yes sir, I will, sir." Came the reply, though Tarn had already begun to wander towards the Platoon 'command' tent, though it could hardly be called that. Inside there was merely a map of the planet's surface regarding the surrounding hundred miles or so, along with a collection of chairs and a few Guardsmen.

Upon entering the tent, the four Guardsmen within all stood, offering Tarn a brief salute, "as you were," he gave in reply, "Vehicle Four reports targetting trouble, Lance-Corporal Caune, I want Vehicle Six readied to replace Four until they have their problem rectified."

apologies for the lack of action, but i've seen a lot of GRIMDARK literature from front-line infantry or support companies and decided that for my first attempt at writefaggotry i would attempt to adequately describe what life would be like for a 41st millenium Platoon in the back of the lines giving long, long range support

>>3802891
no no no man, you're doin great

Also, I would like to personally commend you for abstaining from commissar wank like every other guard writer.

>>3802891
Its working, though. I am thoroughly interested.

>>3802924
which is odd, as its currently about how boring rear-line work is in the guard

>>3802905
i reserve my commissarness for my DH game, i've tended to like reading about the low-ranks in the Gaunt books, as they're FAR mor interesting than the standard commissar

>>3802934
>how boring rear-line work is in the military period

fix'd

also, awesome

One of the assembled Guardsmen nodded once and moved out of the command tent rather quickly, squeezing his way around the Lieutenant still stood in the entrance way, "Anything to report in from you three?" Tarn asked quietly, his voice almost hopeful at the prospect of something to do.

"Not from the flak batteries, sorry sir," one replied, Rorvn, the Sargeant Major in charge of his anti-aircraft support.

"As usual, no vox-chatter from the forward positions... Mud-lovers must have forgotten we're here," the wry comment from the Corporal who monitored the fire-support request channels brought a smile to the faces of those assembled.

"No requests in five days... At least the gun crews are still managing to find things to do to keep themselves occupied, sir," the brown haired woman sat at the map table said, her attention coming from the Corporal to Tarn, "at least they haven't resorted to firing off rounds for fun, yet."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Sargeant," Tarn replied, stepping aside as he lifted up the entrance flap, "Matir and Henners are attempting to zero their sights by firing at an empty shell case..."

The Sargeant sighed, though the sight of the lone Guardsman running back towards the gun line brought a soft chuckle from the other two men in the tent. "Well, so long as nobody gets hurt, i suppose..." The woman said softly, "though i'd suppose that's the whole point."

Tarn smiled, dropping the entrance flap, "You worry too much, Degla, what could go wrong?"

>>3803025
I can see it now.

Front line forces have been wiped out and they forgot to tell the rear echelon.

Swarms of 'nids and orks inbound in 3...

So, and Imperial Guard soldiers were going to spend their artillery ammunition without their Lieutenant even knowing of that?
I call shenanigans.

>>3803067
Wasting the Emperor's ammunition is punishable by death, isn't it?

Or is target-sighting an acceptable reason?

I also believe that the front lines got wasted and didn't get out a warning, and the artillery has only stayed alive because they've been silent.

Which is about to end...

this writefag is tired and finding it hard to write in the current state of tiredness, so i bid you adieu, /tg/, until tomorrow, when i should continue

>>3803101
It is, but obviously you have to inform the commander first.

>>3803067

Son of a bitch, I was just about to say that.

>>3803034

Could be conscripts. I could habeeb it. They'd get their ass handed to them afterwards likely, but what are you gonna do? Also, if they know their CO to be a pretty cool guy eh doesn't reprimand of anything, they might just.

GRIMDARK etc. withstanding, the guard is still Human, and humans dick around.

>>3803142
Seconded.
>>3803103
I'll be waiting.

I'm sure some guardsmen were firing their guns at flags out of boredom in one of the Ghosts books. They didn't get more than a nasty look from Gaunt.

>>3803103
Fuck. I was starting to really get into this. Not every story need be full of action to be genuinely interesting, and the Guard has been painted as relatively human and personable.

>>3803191
flashlight =/= artillery piece.

>>3803191
Plus BL shit isn't canon so can't be used in an argument in any way.

>>3803301
Dude... hate top break it to you but GW considers all Official Black Library novels to be Canon.

>>3803795
George Mann, Head of Black Library, had the following points to make:
...
2. In further conversation, George emphasized that Black Library’s main objective was to “tell good stories”. He agreed that some points in certain novels could, perhaps, have benefited from the editor’s red pen (a certain multilaser was mentioned) but was at pains to explain that, just as each hobbyist tends to interpret the background and facts of the Warhammer and 40K worlds differently, so does each author. In essence, each author represents an “alternative” version of the respective worlds. After pressing him further, he explained that only the Studio material (rulebooks, codexes, army books and suchlike) was canonical in that is HAD to be adhered-to in the plots and background of the novels. There was no obligation on authors to adhere to facts and events as spelled out in Black Library work.

thread hasn't 404ed, so im continuing in here for now

"Yes sir, of course you're right..." the woman offered a rather hesitant smile to Tarn before her eyes turned down to look at the map laid out before her.

Idle chatter between the four filled the tent, back and forths between the two male sargeants usually ended up with Degla laughing at them for their silly 'competitions' and attempts to out-do each other. Tarn quickly grew bored once more, he'd heard this all before on a dozen campaigns over hundreds of days. He excused himself, stepping out of the tent and back into the morning air, Vehicle Four was, by now, set up, and Private Matir had made it halfway across the ground between the command tent and the Basilisk.

Tarn moved out to meet him at a middle distance, "everything alright, Private?" he asked, almost casually.

"Yes sir, we're about ready to start firing, you said to tell you when we was good to go, sir."

"Very good, Private, attend to your Gun." Tarn offered the man a small smile as Matir nodded and moved back towards the Basilisk where two more crewmen were lifting shells up into position.

The Corporal that Tarn had sent off from the command tent appeared at his shoulder, offering a 'fresh' cup of warm Caf, "Vehicle Six is ready, sir, if you need it."

Tarn nodded, taking the small disposable cup from the man, "Very good, thank you Corporal... Just in time to watch Vehicle Four blast a shell case apart."

Private Matir had managed to make his way over to the Basilisk and up onto the platform where the other two crewmen were carefully loading a massive shell into the breach of the artillery gun mounted upon their vehicle. There were a few words exchanged between them as the cannon swung lazily down into position, the targetter aiming manually in an attempt to line up the trajectory computer with the sights.

Tarn sipped Caf from his cup idly as he watched the three men move around upon the Basilisk, making it ready to fire, though lowered his cup and placed a hand over the top, to prevent any from spilling as the three Guardsmen leant away from the gun's breach and covered their ears. Two seconds later, there was an ear-shattering boom that caused the Basilisk to rock backwards, throwing the front end of the tank some twelve inches into the air before falling back down. The ground had shaken, causing those pieces of dried mud around the area to leap upwards as the shell was thrown clear of the Basilisk's main gun.

Not more than a second passed before there was a large explosion some distance down the field from the gun line, the ground was kicked up into the air as the impact tore up mud and grass, thowing it a good distance into the air and scattering it around, "did they hit it, Corporal?" Tarn asked, his head half-turning to face the man beside him, though his eyes remained looking out at the dust cloud now settling from the explosion.

"Ah..." the corporal responded, looking down-range through his range-finder goggles, "it doesn't look like it, sir. Pretty close, though."

Tarn nodded wordlessly, his face turning back to the three crewmen, now throwing the empty, smoking shell case off the back of the tank's firing platform and carefully beginning to load a second round into the breach.

right, gotta head off for a bit, will be back with more later

>>3803191
actually Gaunt doesn't see it his officer Ban Daur sees it and cracks the shits with the guys

>>3805980
>>3806069
>>3806074
Nice to see you're back. Looking forward to more.

There was a second massive boom from the Basilisk as the newly loaded round was fired, again punctuated by the front end of the tank jumping upwards from the force of the recoil, after the dust around the vehicle settled, it was clear that the guardsmen were slowly getting closer to hitting the shell case that Henners had placed out in the open. In fact, upon closer inspection by the Corporal, it had been pushed over onto its side from the force of the latest shell impact.

Glancing slowly around, Tarn observed that the discharging of two Earthshaker shells did not seem to have drawn much attention. The crews of Vehicles Three and Six had, of course, taken interest, and began to exchange verbal jabs with Four's crew as they failed to hit the target. Lance Corporal Jani had stopped creating her latest sock puppet to watch the display from the Basilisk. A few more Privates from the other gun crews were reclined rather lazily upon the ground behind Vehicles One and Two, chatting amongst one another, though pausing when the gun was fired.

Tarn's attention came back to Vehicle Four after the third shell was fired, gaining a cheer from the gun crews upon the firing platforms as the shell case was hit with the explosion of the third round's impact, the crews now demanding that Henners go and retrieve the remaining pieces of shell case as a trophy of war.

out of interest, as im writing this on the fly pretty much, do people want to see this turn into an actiony type tale or continue on about the exploits of bored Guardsmen?

>>3806939
I can go either way.

>>3806939
Bored guardsmen!

>>3806939
there's enough action in 40k. give us s'more shennanigans.

Swiftly, though, the excitement of being able to fire an artillery piece was over. Crewmen went back to sitting around, doing nothing. Tarn's attention was then caught by a guardsman carrying thin, brass hoops towards the soldiers reclining upon the ground. He kicked one gently, exchanging words with the small group before they slowly, with rather lazy movements, clambered to their feet and followed the guardsman around to the front of Vehicle One.

Once they had reached the tank, the brass loops were set down infront of the tank as one man climbed up onto the hull of the tank, leaning upon the large armoured plate that protected the gunners upon the firing platform from incoming small arms fire. There were a few jovial laughs amongst the men as one by one, they attempted to throw the brass hoops at the extended barrel of the Earthshaker cannon, gaining metallic clangs from both objects as they collided and the hoop fell away to land upon the muddy ground.

Tarn had observed this occurance a few times in the past week, Private Sartner of Vehicle One had managed to get his hands on the few empty shell cases from shells that his tank had fired recently and cut the bases off to form large hoops of the brass coloured metal. It seemed as though the men enjoyed having something to do other than sitting around doing nothing.

"Childish boys..." came a comment from Tarn's left, turning, he saw Lance Corporal Jani emitting a sigh in the general direction of the guardsmen playing hoopla with an Earthshaker cannon. The comment, however, would most likely have made more impact if she were not surrounded by a half dozen or so sock puppets, with a half-constructed one upon her left hand whilst she sewed on spare buttons for eyes with the other.

>>3806939

I would like to see your interpretatin of what happens when they are giin an order to advance or a heavy volley of fire support.

Or more shenanigins.

Come back !

She was rather odd, Tarn mused, though she had at least found a non-destructive way to pass the time, unlike certain gun crew he could think of. Every day or so, a new sock puppet would appear in her collection, having a personality of its own and a distinct look, though all the looks seemed to be variations on the scarlet and black Arcadian artillery regiment uniform. He had once asked one of Jani's friends about the puppets and was told that the woman missed the drama serials on the motion-pict back on Arcadia and had decided that she could make her own whilst in the field when there was not much to do. It did little harm, though, and allowed her to keep herself occupied, rather than going crazy with boredom.

Tarn's attention was quickly turned to the Hydra anti-aircraft batteries as they lifted their autocannons skywards. Looking up into the sky, he could see four black dots streaking across the sky off in the distance. They circled lazily before giving a slow fly-by around five hundred feet distant, as though they were assessing the artillery battery for a target. The Hydras did likewise, though both seemed to settle down once the two sides had discovered that they were on the same side. One of the aircraft split off from the main group and approached the gun-line at a rather low altitude, screaming over the Basilisks and Hydras below as the craft performed a quick aileron flip above the artillery before streaking off and away with the other three.

Damn Pilots, show offs. They wouldn't last a minute in the Artillery Regiments. Tarn paused in his thoughts, they probably would last longer than they would in a dogfight against some orkish contraption or some Tau devilry.

Damn Pilots, show offs. They wouldn't last a minute in the Artillery

Regiments. Tarn paused in his thoughts, they probably would last

longer than they would in a dogfight against some orkish contraption

or some Tau devilry.

He sighed slightly, beginning to step forwards, continuing his former

journey along the gun line, nodding to a Private that was hanging out

a rather damp spare uniform across a Basilisk's firing platform rail.

His second crewman was currently throwing a ball back and forth with a

gunner from the Basilisk beside it, the three of them slacking off on

their current duty break.

Tarn smiled to himself, musing in the fact that if this was a Mordian regiment, or some other of the ilk, then most of his troops would have been shot already for generally keeping themselves occupied in rather odd manners, or for looking slightly scruffy whilst off duty. He also thanked the Emperor for them not having a Commissar there breathing down their necks about doing everything in a right and proper way. Apparently, Commissars were seen as 'front-line' officers, and rarely posted in anything as menial as Artillery or Supply regiments.

hmmm, apologies for that last part being a bit fucked up, apparently notepad decided to only screw up those two paragraphs out of all the stuff i've posted so far

>>3807616
Not a problem, keep this epic rolling!

They've all fallen to Slaneesh or something, right?

been pulled into WoW to do stuff, more later (or maybe tomorrow)

remember, in the GRIMDARK of the 41st millenium, there is only WAR and boredom

>>3807808
i will look out for it

bump for great justice

right, time to get writing again, i believe

>>3809517
please do

I fucking LOVE this.

Something about the care-free musing of an arty regiment makes me go ":D"

I love your work, I really do.

IN THE GRIM MONOTONY OF THE FUTURE, THERE IS ONLY ENNUI!

Next episode, make them receive orders to fire that are cancelled at the last minute. Also, the guardsmen of Gun Two stage a one-act play!

He paused in his walk to watch three shell trolleys be pulled across to Vehicle Four to replenish its current loadout from before, when the Basilisk had been testing its accuracy. Tarn wondered briefly what it would be like to be upon the recieving end of one of those massive Earthsaker rounds, though the thought fluttered from his mind as quickly as it had arrived with the realisation that it would probably hurt like the blazes and thus, he would not wish to find out.

Once the shells had passed across him, Tarn continued upon his walk, joined by the ever tall Corporal Hetia from his inter-platoon vox-comms monitoring station, she spoke quietly with a small smile upon her face, "Sir, good news, we've recieved orders from Regimental Headquarters to open fire at a set of coordinates with the whole battery at thirteen-hundred hours. Part of an effort to dislodge some enemy, apparently."

The news brought a wide smile to Tarn's face as he heard it, "Good news at last. Very well, back to your post, Hetia, keep me up-to-date with any occurances."

"Yes sir!" the Corporal positively beamed before she turned and hurried back to the vox-comms tent.

His walk prematurely over, Tarn turned and began to walk towards his command tent. Five days of tedium were about to end.

>>3810003
oh yeah here it comes

Tarn's smile immediately elevated the rather apathetic mood within the command tent, "Gentlemen, lady, we have fire orders." The assembled four soldiers all began to grin with glee at the news the Lieutenant brought with him, "Corporal, stand the entire gun line to, we should make ready for the barrage as soon as possible."

"yes sir!" came the altogether too happy response from the man, shortly before he darted out of the tent.

Tarn turned to the brown haired woman already picking up the vox-comms sender to speak into, "Degla, get on the comms to the front line, get a double-check on the coordinates from forward spotters." the woman nodded eagerly and began speaking into the sender as Tarn approached the map upon the table at the centre of the tent as a Private appeared at the tent's entrance.

"Message from Corporal Hetia, sir, the firing coordinates." he passed a data-pict to Tarn's now waiting hand.

"Well, people, it appears that we are to target what appears to be a rather well entrenched position in a rural area some forty kilometres away." he smiled, locating the vicinity of the strike upon the map as his non-coms gathered around to see, "only two hours until we have to be ready for it, to your duties, gentlemen..."

WOOOOOOO WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Scarecely ten minutes later, all gun crews were at their station, there was no drying washing, no hoopla hoops upon the tanks, no sock puppets, no joking. There was only heightened anticipation that the next two hours would bring a large artillery strike. The entire Battery was gathering behind the gun line, along with the supply staff that had been attatched, shell trolley lanes had been set up to move fresh ammunition to the Basilisks and shift the empty cases back to keep the firing line tidy.

Tarn had to smile, regardless of the state of mind his gun-line was in before they had recieved orders, everyone had managed to not only stand-to upon the firing platforms and shell lanes, but they had also cleared up the things they had been using to keep themselves occupied. He was currently one rather proud Lieutenant, and he merely had to wait.

Degla moved up to his side, speaking in a rather excited, and yet still controlled voice, "sir, the forward spotters report the coordinates are correct, they'll contact us again when it's time to open fire."

Tarn nodded, "thank you, Degla, to your station." she nodded and moved back into the command tent without another word. Yes, now waiting was the name of the game.

FOLLOW ME TO GLOREEE

The two hours passed rather rapidly, seeming to fly by with the anticipation looming above the assembled guardsmen. Though after those hours passed and there came no word from Degla upon the vox-comms to the front, Tarn began to grow rather impatient. His foot began to tap gently against the ground beneath it as he glanced over his shoulder to the command tent. Tarn turned his head, then, the other way, looking over towards the vox-comms tent, where Corporal Hetia stood in the entrance way. Spotting the Lieutenant had turned his attention towards her, the tall woman offered a rather befuddled shrug at the unasked question.


He decided to let it wait another ten minutes. By the time that had gone by, the assembled guardsmen and gunners were muttering quietly to one another about just what was going on, checking their chronometers. Tarn had decided that was enough and he spun upon his heel and moved back towards his command tent, almost tearing the entrance flap away as he headed inside, "Degla... tell me whats happening."

The woman started slightly at the rather angered entrance of the Lieutenant, "ah, i don't know, sir... The front lines just haven't sent word since last time i spoke with the forward spotters. Theres just... nothing, sir."

Tarn sighed slightly, "thank you, Degla. Keep monitoring, just in case." the woman nodded, though Tarn had missed it as by that time, he was already outside the tent and heading off towards the vox-comms tent.

and again, more later! i needs my creative sleep to make more boredom tomorrow

NOOOOOOOOO

JUST AS IT FUCKING GETS SUSPENCEFUL

THEYRE GONNA GET FUCKING KILLED.

Great work. I hope that nothing exciting ever happens to this regiment and it's one boring, tedious hellhole after another. Any writer can make a good exciting piece, but it takes skill to make something so monotonous interesting.

Bump from page 10.
Eargerly awaiting the continuation of this story.

They're waiting for orders from Lord General Godot, aren't they.

>>3814155
Oh great, bracing for Beckett shitfight.

Bumping away from the impending doom of page two.

Thats right, two.

I'm sensing some serious "Remember the Alamo" action imminent.

hai gusy, im back!

hooray! the awesome can continue!

bump for justice!!

rolled 14 = 14

>>3815142
Bumping for Arcadia!

Bump for original content...

Hetia stepped back, holding the tent's entrance open for Tarn as he all but stalked into the comms tent, "get me Headquarters on the line, Hetia, i want to find out precisely what is going on, here."

"Right away, sir!" Hetia confirmed, moving across to where the tent turned into the rear end of an open communications Chimaera with the boarding ramp down, speaking quietly into a vox-comms handset for a few moments, "I've got Headquarters, sir, channel seven."

Tarn nodded and moved across to pick up a handset from the comms equipment stored there, "Headquarters, this is Six Battery, First Company, we recieved orders to fi..." He was cut off by a load crack on the other end of the line and muffled shouts, as though someone had their hand over the sender upon the other end, there was definately something about 'front line', though Tarn couldn't quite make it out.

After a few seconds, there was another crackle and a rather angry, female voice came on the other end, "Listen here, you front line rats, what the fuck is this about not giving us confirmation of fucking firing orders, you piece of crap little footsoldier, you're going to give my fucking regiment something to damn well shoot at or i'm going to come down there personally and stick a breaching charge so far up your arse you'll be fucking sneezing explosions! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!"

"Uh... Colonel Johnsson, Ma'am... This is Lieutenant Tarn of the First Company... We uhm..."

The angry voice rather suddenly mellowed out into a sweet voice, "oh, Lieutenant, sorry, you see we're rather all annoyed back here as the Infantry inthe front line appear to have been hastened on by those damn Commissars to take the position we were to shell." Ah, that was the Colonel all over, lovely and sweet to her officers, hated Commissars, which was probably why the Regiment had none.

"Right... So, ma'am, does that mean there's no target for us?"

There was an audible sigh across the comms, the Colonel's voice changing once more to the sort of tone that one would expect from someone finally giving in to the inevitable, "yes, that's correct. Stand yourself down, Lieutenant."

Tarn hung up, well that was all rather annoying. But now he had to go and tell his gunners that they would not be getting to fire. Quite the opposite of what he had intended to have them do, but orders were orders. Straightening himself up, Tarn moved out of the tent, leaving a rather crestfallen Hetia behind him slumped defeatedly across the comms equipment.

Everyone outside was looking at him rather expectantly. This was going to be rather hard on morale, but hopefully, his soldiers would pull through it alright, "Headquarters has said that..." He took a moment to carefully choose his next few words, "there is no longer any need for an artillery barrage."

There was a mixed chorus of comments about the now lack of shelling that they were to do, disbelief and disappointment settled into the Battery, "But sir, can't we just fire off a round or two? We got all dressed up for the party an' everything..." Henners asked.

"No, Private, the Infantry managed to take the position we were to bombard without the need for a salvo from us to soften the enemy up. The Colonel sends her apologies and is trying to get us a new target to hit..." Tarn could feel the boredom seeping back into the area as though it were a flow of mud coating the camp.

>>3815496
Commissars are assigned to IG regiments by the Commissariat, which is an independent entity and not subject to the authority of anybody in the IG. Nobody in the Imperial Guard has any say in where Commissars go, which is just as well because if they did then there'd be no Commissars at all.

>>3815718
most of the non-spoken narrative is the musings of Tarn

>>3815745
CONTINUE

loving the story, keep up the good work that man!

Disappointed soldiers languidly moved back towards the camp, leaving only the two guns who would normally be stood ready for action crewed once more. Games to stave boredom were once again taken up, sock puppets were gained and the attempt to keep minds busy began again. Hours went by with very little happening, save the thourough disappointment of not being allowed to fire. Occasionally, there would be a small moment of excitement when an aircraft flew overhead again and the Hydra guns turned skywards before settling back down, or if someone managed to get a brass hoop over the end of the Basilisk cannon.

Some time later, in his wanderings around the camp to make sure everything was in line, he had discovered Lance Corporal Jani performing one of her soap operas for a small collection of Guardsmen and women, none of whom seemed to be paying much attention, and merely using it as a quick-fix whilst they attempted to find something else to do.

Tarn stood quietly for a few minutes, watching this odd show. He could not quite tell exactly what the whole thing was about, though there was something about one of the genderless female socks finding out that a genderless male sock had been two-timing with another genderless female sock. The whole thing was entirely bizarre and Tarn found himself wishing he had those few minutes of his life back before he realised that it had actually taken time up and was glad he did not have to face those few minutes of boredom again.

The day continued on much like the morning, though in the shadow of the excitement from midday, every hour seemed to be three. The evening began to set in as the suns started to set upon the hilly horizon, the unit's cooks came around, passing out the evening meal's rations, some cardboardy meat and thin gravy wrapped with tasteless 'vegetables' in a vacuum sealed foil container.

Tarn now stood silently before his command tent, a warm cup of Caf in his hand, soft chatter of his non-coms behind him. Tomorrow would be a better day, they would be able to fire their artillery at something meaningful and make some sort of difference in this campaign.

With that thought in mind, Tarn retired to his personal tent to write up the day's report to Headquarters before he went to bed, the same report he had filed for the past week, 'no change, no enemy sightings, nothing'.

Tomorrow would be his Battery's day to shine...

---
End for now, methinks, ~5000 words is enough for the moment XD

That was pretty badass. Well Written.

good original writefaggotry!

>>3804021
I'm intrigued, what multilazer do you speak of?

Some fine writefaggotry btw.

Absoloutely nothing happened, and I liked it.

Good job.

In The GrimDarkness of the 41st millinium
There is only Bordom and Sock puppets

I've never been so excited about absolutely nothing happened! More! More! For the love of all that is holy, you must continue!

kudos sir. just read from beginning to end. if you arereading this and haven't read this story, do so now.

you won't regret.

also, bump.

bump READ THIS STORY


its really something

No, author man.

I read the first two words as
>Lieutenant Tam

>>3817599
OVER
RATED
HORSE
FACE

Someone Upvote this on Sup/tg/
its in the Negatives for godsake

This is a really, really awesome story.

>>3817602
Fucking seconded.

>>3817599
I hate what you fags have done to /tv/.

>>3817599
Worst character in Firefly by far.

Also, bug eyes and weird smile.

Only acceptable picture of her attached.

i actual enjoyed this and its gotten me wanting to do a little writefaggotry now too. I really hope you continue this btw