Special spite was kindled in your heart for the Revolutionary Army; you’d forced the feelings down, a firm palm pressing down on hot coals that burned from below. Anguish and rage that was difficult to ignore, but had to be subdued for the sake of the mission, and your sanity. The Revolutionary Army of Greater Vitelia had been responsible for the death of your best friend, Douran Dolcherr, and because of that, the solace you allowed to that burning beneath was that you would do everything in your power to see the RAGV’s ambitions turned to ash.

In the meantime, you were making steps towards accomplishing that by linking the Luftpanzer Battalion and nearby aristocratic troops, apparently under a friend of the Royal Family called the Duke Di Vitelstadt, with one another. Once the two of you were in proper communications and had shared lines, your might combined (if the Duke wished to help, but his sympathies seemed to indicate he would be willing to work with you) would make short work of the Revolutionaries. After a skirmish with the Revolutionaries where your company had thankfully taken no casualties, you encountered an independent faction of policemen protecting a village; you and an intelligence specialist called Owl 3, whom you had rescued from the Revolutionaries in your daring escape from behind their lines, had negotiated your passage with the leader of these policemen; you would devote a platoon to aiding the evacuation of them and the inhabitants of the village they guarded, and you would be able to pass through their territory, looping around Revolutionary troop concentrations and hopefully allowing you a direct line of advance straight to where the Vitelians were fighting the Duke and his men.

Some might call you crazy for being in the high spirits you were in, Owl 3 had certainly implied such, and she didn’t even know how bad a mood you could have been in. Yet, the mission was going well, and the upbeat nature of the character that was your mask combined with the lust for vengeance of your deeper self being addressed, it was hard not to be a bit chipper. Especially when Owl 3, better known as Winnifred Von Löwenkreuz, was a pretty girl who was willing to chat with you. Well, maybe she wasn’t pretty in the conventional sense. More like in the way an overworked librarian was, with tired eyes and messy hair, and her tendency to snip and bite made her an appealing challenge to try and wear down. Was it smart to be trying to flirt with a lady while on a combat mission? Certainly not, but you needed ups and downs like anybody did, and your experience battling tonight had been…not good.

As you had been walking back, the subject of Winnifred’s history, and any suspicions towards her loyalty, had been raised. By her. The woman seemed exceptionally eager to learn of any poor opinion you had towards her, but really, you couldn’t satisfy her on that front. She’d told you the woes of her family, and how she had been treated unfairly, and you had more or less agreed, though some just criticism was levelled at her family regardless; let it not be said you were an unfair judge. Next, when you brought up the possibility of a traitor; a theory that Dolcherr had believed to his dying breath, Winnifred had challenged you with the notion that she would be quite high on the list of suspects for being a traitor to your unit and the Kaiser.

“I suppose I would be quite high on the list of potential suspects, wouldn’t I?” She had said. Though maybe it was because of your well-groomed instincts to try to leap into her pants, or maybe it was a more gentlemanly good nature not to be besmirched by such crude humor, you had to disagree with her.

“Yeah, I guess you would be,” you allowed the proposal to be at least possible; Owl 3 seemed like a very intelligent lady, probably moreso than you, and far be it from yourself to proclaim to know more about everything than an intelligence expert. “Though, you have a rock solid alibi, don’t you?”

Owl 3’s one eye, the other covered up by her black, wavy bangs falling over her face, seemed to glint slightly. Damn, that was a pretty shade of blue. When would that eye's twin come out? “Do I? Share, if you will.”

“Well, l mean,” you started off, collecting your thoughts for a few moments, “Like you said, these Revolutionaries don’t seem like the brightest bunch. Their tactics are sloppy, and doing anything too clever doesn’t seem likely. If you were forced to sell us out from being interrogated in that shed I found you in, and they were just keeping you there for convenience, you would have told us if you’d squealed if you were still on our side, yeah? If you were working with them right from the start, then I don’t know why you’d be drugged up and stuffed in a closet. You’ve got a good brain between those ears, so I’d think you’d have figured out some way to avoid suspicion by them if you were to sell us out, so they wouldn’t feel the need to take out insurance by knocking you out. Hell, you could have gotten the information to them without them even having to see you, I bet. From what I can see the only deal where you’d be a rat is if there was another party you were working with rather than the Revolutionaries, and that’s the only reason you’d be here if you pulled the rug out from under us but still got crammed in a shed on the side of the road.”

“Hm.” Winnifred nodded, keeping the jacket you’d loaned her tight about herself, “So who would this third party be? The aristocracy?”

“Slow down, babe,” you raised both hands, “I need a bit more time and information, even if I was to keep going down this line. I trust you, alright? And it’s not ‘cause you’ve seduced me or anything, though it’s awful hard not to be.”

“I see.” Owl 3 said, looking ahead once more. Man, this broad just pretended she didn’t even hear some of the most important parts of what you were saying. Ah well, selective deafness was oft cured by persistence.

-----

The evacuation plan was quickly organized. Bartholomeu and 2nd Platoon were trusted with escorting the policemen and the villagers out while swatting away any attempts to intervene by the Revolutionary Army, while the rest of the unit (yourself, and 1st and 3rd Platoons under Lieutenants Covacs and Fischer) would speed on ahead, avoiding the concentration of RAGV you had encountered earlier and heading straight towards the ongoing battle between the Vitelians and the Duke’s men. Artillery impacts boomed, and small arms fire crackled like gunpowder thrown in a campfire. They were really opening a can of whoopass on each other, but two platoons plus of luftpanzers would almost certainly swing the tide in the favor of your potential allies.

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As for why Lieutenant Bartholomeu has been chosen…he was your friend, had been since childhood along with Dolcherr, but ever since you’d given news of your friend’s death, Roland Bartholomeu had seemed out of it. He was slow to respond and take the initiative; so you’d taken to giving him the simpler, easier jobs. Maybe helping to save these civilians and the policemen who had remembered their duty to uphold order would help pull him out of his darkened mood.

Losing a platoon would weaken your forces temporarily, but you were confident you’d be able to smash through the Revolutionaries. You were Fallschirmjager, in tanks! What could these western ragamuffins really do against troops of your caliber? As your platoons sped over the farms, doing your best not to trample the crops, you looked at the terrain ahead, pulled out the simplistic maps you had, and made a plan of attack…

>Advance to the hill ahead and secure a vantage point, then look around and get a better feel for the terrain and situation; haste might have been advised, and this would definitely delay you, but best to go in knowing what you were in for.
>Push through the woods and hit the battle in the enemy’s rear; visibility wouldn’t be good, but being stuck up the enemy’s arse would more than make up for that disadvantage.
>Cut across and hit the foe across open ground. While simple and quick, with the enemy formations just down the road, you could anticipate quick reinforcement, and said enemy would definitely know where to come and find you. Dangerous, with your reduced numbers.
>Other?

-----
>Past Threads Archive Pastebin (Luftpanzer is at the top, currently only thread 1 of course): https://pastebin.com/UagT0hnh

>>2892702
>>Advance to the hill ahead and secure a vantage point, then look around and get a better feel for the terrain and situation; haste might have been advised, and this would definitely delay you, but best to go in knowing what you were in for.

>>2892702
>>Push through the woods and hit the battle in the enemy’s rear; visibility wouldn’t be good, but being stuck up the enemy’s arse would more than make up for that disadvantage.
If the Vitelians are focused on taking the bridge they should be concentrated on the road anyway.

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>>2892702
>>Push through the woods and hit the battle in the enemy’s rear; visibility wouldn’t be good, but being stuck up the enemy’s arse would more than make up for that disadvantage.
If we had infantry support I'd advocate this action but we dont. We've also lost contact with the hostile armored element, so they can hit us in the flank or rear if we were to charge across B or C.

Which leaves us with A
>Advance to the hill ahead and secure a vantage point, then look around and get a better feel for the terrain and situation; haste might have been advised, and this would definitely delay you, but best to go in knowing what you were in for.

We've already lost probably 2 hours since our missdrop. I really dont want to delay any more, but the risk of infantry in close quarters and an unaccounted for armored element in our flank and rear means we need to to put the town between us so they cant come at us from that angle while 2nd platoon is still operating in it.

Wish we were a little more aggressive last thread and hadnt detached 2nd platoon, since they could be engaged by the armored unit without support.

>>2892847
>>2892702
As a compromise we don't need the entire force to move up on the hill. We can go by ourselves and act as a spotter or maybe 2 or 3 tanks at most whilst the main element advances cautiously.

>>2892898
I'd agree to that.

>>2892898
Supporting this as well

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“Fischer, let me keep your heavy section a little longer, I’m taking them up to the top of that hill so I can get a better look around.”

“They are as ever at your disposal, Captain.”

Never change, Fischer. “Roger. The rest of third and all of first, go down into those woods, keep an eye out for anybody up to no good, once you’re good and deep in, hug those trees and head east to the river, and the bridge. Try and keep them from knowing exactly where you’re coming from until they can’t get away. Get ‘em, killers.” The platoon net, now. “Vee formation, on me, right up the hill. I know I’m not as charming as Lieutenant Fischer, but I’ve got a dangerously sexy lady with me, so I hope that evens things out. Make sure you’re on your A game, because they don’t call her Owl for not watching.”

Owl 3 was hanging on to the back of the tank, hence the Vee formation to protect her; she was more useful from your position of watching over the battle, instead of being someplace she shouldn’t be, in a place where fighting was damn near certain like with any of your platoons. Of course, with her outside and you inside, you could make whatever comments you liked and not worry about her failing to be impressed.

“Contact front.” Came a message from one of the heavies, “They’re running. Might be two or three.”

“Keep an eye out,” you advised, “If any of you gets this pretty girl shot I’ll have you court martialed.”

The hill was a bit barren for your tastes; a long ranged gun would be able to swipe you off its side like a beetle on a sleeve. A Luftpanzer had many qualities, but armor was not one of them. The Luftpanzer II’s best defenses were mobility and use of its small size to hide well in terrain. Ironically, the woods, where a normal tank was ill suited for any fighting, was much safer for a Luftpanzer when fighting other vehicles.
Thankfully, it appeared that nobody took offense to you taking over the hill, so you went up as high as you thought necessary, and opened the turret hatch to give the land below you a good look.

“Stopping here? We appear rather exposed.” Owl 3 said as you came out, smoothing her hair back down furtively over her left eye.

You smirked and gave her slight wave. “It’s alright. The better for as many people as possible to witness this beautiful dame I have riding along.” Winnifred was unmoved, so you shrugged. “Sorry you don’t agree. We’ll do something about that sorely lacking ego sometime.” You looked to the river, the bridge, the woods, and the dust clouds where you saw half your company on the move, and put together a tactical picture…

>Roll up to 3d100s, best of 3. Going for higher is better here for arbitrary reasons. The better the roll, the further away and better identified you’ll see currently hidden units. “Louder” units such as vehicles will be easier to spot.

Rolled 21, 52, 37 = 110 (3d100)

>>2893413

Rolled 15, 86, 79 = 180 (3d100)

>>2893413
Dice don't fail me now.

Rolled 6, 33, 30 = 69 (3d100)

>>2893413

Rolled 2, 1, 3 = 6 (3d3)

...right, that should have been 3 sets of 1d100, but I fucked up. So here's what we'll do to make it fair. I'll roll 3d3 and each dice will be what number counts from the roll, and we'll work with that.

>52 – Average Success

“Hard to see people in this light, but they’re not trying to be too sneaky. They’re in a hurry.” You concluded out loud to Owl 3, more for your own benefit than to inform her. “Still in decent cover. Can’t make out a lot of their numbers. Could be a squad, could be a company, hell if I know.”

Owl 3 craned her neck, and raised her arm a small amount to point as you looked at her. “What about those clouds?”

“Ah,” you looked back, “Tank platoon. Looks newer than what I’ve seen so far, going for the bridge to help their brothers, who’re the same sort of tank. That other one…armored cars. They’re heading south.” The tanks themselves were rather oddball ones, but at least not Emrean War era antiques. They each had a small turret on top, and what appeared to be a main gun off to one side of the hull. A threat to a Luftpanzer…were they to turn the right way. Hull mounted guns were a good way of getting more firepower in a smaller space, but lacking a turret that traversed in a full circle meant that anything going wrong in a fight tended to go even worse as the most powerful weaponry was unable to be brought to bear.

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Choomp. Choomp.

“Mortars,” you explained to Owl 3, “Seems like the Revolutionaries have a battery about…thattaways.” You pointed vaguely to the east, before turning to look at where you came from. “Oop,” you noticed something as you looked south, and ducked back in to switch to company net before leaning back outside, finger on your throat microphone. “Hey, Bart, looks like our pals from earlier are taking umbrage with our new friends…Lieutenant?”

“I copy.”

Sheesh. “You’ve got infantry and armor coming up behind. Bout a platoon of each if I were to guess, might be a few more foot mobiles scattered in the woods to your south.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Damn it all, Lieutenant Bartholomeu was usually a whole lot more proactive than this. The case was more often before that you’d have to tell him what not to do. A man once quick of mind and action had become a tortoise.

“Captain, we’ve reached a point where we’ll be turning off. What do you see from up there?” You heard Covacs drone over the radio. “Unless you’d rather it be a surprise…”

>To Bartholomeu-
-----
>Stay back and cover the civilians’ retreat. There’ll be a lot of them, but they can’t be allowed to think we’ve got a weak point. Stick hard and fight it out, get the police to help you.
>Break north. They’re coming for you, and even if they aren’t, you’ll split the enemy up. You can’t take on all of those guys at once, try and get them into smaller pieces.
>Keep running. Focus on evading, not fighting, they’ll overextend themselves and have to go back.
>Other?
-----
>To the rest-
>Push straight through. Go through the artillery, the armor, all of it. Have to strike while the iron is hot.
>Stay where you are. The enemy’s on the move, if you wait and then move we can be right up on their backs when we make our big attack.
>Have Fischer’s light section make a feint to the mortars. Covacs can dodge north and avoid any reaction and get in among them.
>Other?

>>2893529
>>Stay back and cover the civilians’ retreat. There’ll be a lot of them, but they can’t be allowed to think we’ve got a weak point. Stick hard and fight it out, get the police to help you.
>Push straight through. Go through the artillery, the armor, all of it. Have to strike while the iron is hot.

>>2893538
Supporting. If we strike now they might panic and get the force chasing the civilians to pull back.

>>2893538
Supporting

>>2893538
This works.

Sorry, fell over and died, I know this is way short. Back in though.

Both sets of officers asking for your next instruction, you spat out what commands you thought were most sensible. “Bartholomeu, pick a place to stick in and hold there, cover the villagers’ escape. I want the enemy here to think there’s a lot more of us than there really are, so we can’t just cut and run. There’ll be a lot of them, but get the policemen to help you. This is a lot of bogeys for a normal platoon, but you’re Luftpanzer, got it?”

A grunt came as an affirmative. It would have to do.

“Covacs, Fischer, push straight east through anything in your way. Artillery, armor, everything, don’t stop. The iron’s hot, we aren’t waiting around to strike it. There’s a mortar battery right in front, an armor platoon heading north to south on the other side of the woods, approximately….two hundred, currently to your east-northeast. Infantry contact ahead of the mortars moving to the bridge, and an armored car section to your south heading south. One platoon plus of infantry at the bridge, unknown attached assets, one platoon armor. Expect as much of that as possible to swing around and smack you once shells start flying.”

“And you, captain?” Covacs asked.

>I’ll stay up here and keep an eye on enemy movement. Few of us as there are, we need to know as much as possible.
>I’ll take 3rd platoon’s heavy section and catch up with you as you’re making your attack. You’ll need all the firepower you can.
>I’ll see if I can’t practice any mischief to their south. A few probing attacks should keep them off balance while you’re hammering their rear. Double entendre fully intended.
>Other?

>>2895417
>>I’ll take 3rd platoon’s heavy section and catch up with you as you’re making your attack. You’ll need all the firepower you can.

I'd say apply the shocker to their south end but I don't think we could disengage quick enough to support the others if something goes wrong.

>>2895417
>I’ll see if I can’t practice any mischief to their south. A few probing attacks should keep them off balance while you’re hammering their rear. Double entendre fully intended.

>>2895417
>>I’ll stay up here and keep an eye on enemy movement. I'll send 3rd platoon's heavy section to catch up with you as you're making your attack.

>>2895417
>>I’ll stay up here and keep an eye on enemy movement. I'll send 3rd platoon's heavy section to catch up with you as you're making your attack

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Rolled 14, 73, 7, 62, 67, 40, 35, 20, 48 = 366 (9d100)

“I’ll stay up here and keep an eye on enemy movement,” you said, “Just me, though. I’ll stop hogging Fischer’s Heavies. They’ll catch up as you’re making your attacks.”

“That is a bafflingly dangerous decision.” Covacs said, with the good humor of a plank.

In response, you feigned being hurt. “What, no confidence for your dear commanding officer? I’ve got a tank. Anybody comes at me, they can try their best. I’ll be fine. The attack’s way more important, I can send you all understrength, but I can’t expect you to go on at half strength.”

“…” Did Covacs sigh over the radio? You could swear you sort of heard it. “…Fischer. I’ll take my whole platoon to attack those mortars.”

“Glorious but extravagant, is that not?” Fischer replied.

“I’ve got a gut feeling. Doesn’t hurt to be careful. You’re going north?”

“Indeed. I will pursue the enemy’s iron champions and lay them low, for they are of few worthy opponents.”

“Bartholomeu?” You prompted over the company net, “Update?”

“Turning about. Preparing to receive the Revolutionary’s attack, Captain.” Lieutenant Bartholomeu’s voice was distant, though level. You wondered if he didn’t have his head in the game or if he just wasn’t chatty; for everybody’s sake you hoped it was the latter. He hadn’t screwed up yet, but if he couldn’t get over what had happened…maybe it had been a mistake to tell him about Dolcherr, even if it was the right thing. It would be fine, you thought to yourself as you popped back out to watch 3rd platoon’s heavy section race off to rejoin their fellows.

Winnifred was watching as well. “So is this an invitation for the Revolutionaries to come calling?”

“Nah.” You said to her, “Though if they want a fight, I’ve got a tank right here. Hey, Jalsen, pop out the other side. I don’t know if your cult lets you talk with ladies, but at least keep an eye out for anybody with a bone to pick, yeah? I’ve got to keep my eyes out elsewhere.”

Corporal Jalsen, your loader, grunted grumpily and shoved his way out the other side of the turret. “If the last words that I hear are vacuous flirting from a womanizer, I shall condemn you on the day of judgement.”

“Thanks, buddy.” You made a finger gun at your loader. “Kapow.”

Owl 3 rose up from where she was and stood next to you on top of the Luftpanzer. “Over there,” she pointed over to the bridge, not all that visible in this light, save for the flashes of fire sometimes silhouetting it against the rest of the land. “Tell me how that battle is going.”

“As you wish, lady Löwenkreuz,” you said, and began your investigation.

>First 5d100 are the RAGV, the latter 4 are for the Halmeggians, DC roll under 50 degrees of success by 10 for both.

In the current darkness, it was difficult to tell apart people, and even vehicles at this distance were vague, but muzzle flashes gave you a decently rough indicator. “Looks like everybody’s managed to dig themselves in. If I were to guess, the Duke’s guys came up and thrashed whoever was there, and got just enough time to break out the spades and get in houses or behind rubble. They’re pretty firmly lodged in there, though they’ve got less tanks. Only two of them for the enemy’s four. Doesn’t seem said tanks’ve found each other yet, either. Wait, no, there they go.” Said Aristocrats’ armor was different from the Revolutionaries’- it looked newer, more modern, just from its size and how the turret looked, with the main gun in a proper place.

The gun duel opened up well for the Duke’s Halmeggians; you saw one of their two tanks pop off a shot, and the loud clang of an armor piercing shot striking metal had to come from the enemy’s own formation. Their return fire seemed to strike back at their brethren across the river, but from what you could see, the only result was sparks; the Duke’s tanks here must have had good enough armor protection to resist the enemy.

“Say,” you held the binoculars out to Owl 3, “You don’t happen to know your way around Halmeggian military equipment, do you?”

The intel specialist took your binoculars, “I am not an expert, but I know something of it.”

“Tell me what those things across the river are. I haven’t seen that sort.”

“…Yes, those. From their shape, I’m going to guess that they are a variant of vehicle called an Armato Blindare Model 20/30. The name being the weight in tonnes, and then the year it entered production.”

“I see. Hoo, boy,” you whistled to yourself as you spotted a trench, but only because it had exploded from a shell being put into it; a big one from a howitzer, not from the mortars your people were well on their way to taking care of. “Our guys fighting for the bridge are getting hammered. Seeing a lot more fire coming in than out.”

“What about across the river, to the south?” Owl 3 asked, “There’s more fighting there.”

You gave it a look. “…Nah, not seeing much there, too far away. If I were to guess, there’s too much shooting for them to be being driven back.” You lowered your binoculars, then looked at where your men were advancing. They’d be seeing battle soon. Meanwhile, as you looked back for the bridge, the slugfest had turned to a dance. Some movement seemed to take place, the tanks now backing off from one another and troops digging in further, pinning one another down with shots after the artillery barrage and moving where they could instead of lingering for heavy fire. “1930.” You said as you let your binos down again, recalling Owl 3’s identification of the Duke’s tank type. ”Pretty new for Halmeggia, isn’t it?” you said, “The Reich’s still knocking about with Kriegspanzer 24s and 28s. Don’t think our newest models are all out yet.” Though to be fair, there was quite a gulf between the first Kpz-24s and the ones being used now. A Kriegspanzer 28, in the meantime, was a proper landship. While one of these AB 20/30s might weigh more than twice that of your Luftpanzer II, a Kpz-28 would dwarf even that by a similar proportion, and then some.

“New? Indeed they are.” Winnifred said, still looking through the lenses you’d given. “It’s a Vitelian vehicle, and it wasn’t produced proper for very long. As for why those are here…it was quite a story in national news. When Vitelia was first fracturing and falling to pieces, a commander whose unit was equipped with that then very new type of tank escaped to Halmeggia with his men, their equipment, and said mens’ families, and sought asylum. Said equipment, including those tanks, were seized.”

“And the people?” you asked.

“Is that relevant?” Owl 3 paused, seemed to think that over. “They were allowed asylum. It was quite controversial at the time. The western borders had been recently closed with the growing violence in Vitelia at the time. That unit practically forced their way inside of the country and demanded they be harbored. Rather scandalous for the army, given their responsibility for protecting the borders, but Parliament’s minister for defense refused to resign.” She handed you back the binoculars. “Only one small event in the history leading up to this point.”

“Saying we should have seen this coming?” You asked.

“Think she’s sayin’,” Jalsen said from below, “That we did.”

Oh.

“Going to look over the hill.” Jalsen said next, “Be right back.”

“Say, speaking of those tanks,” you looked at them again, “Know how big those guns are? And the guns of the ones with the big guns in the hulls?”
“The type you are referring to sounds like an AB 12/27. In their case and the 20/30, they both have a four centimeter diameter bore cannon.”

“Neat.” You thought of something to stick on that. “Hey. Know what else has a four centimeter diameter?”

Owl 3 glared at you.

“These amazing Churros they got back at the city out of the base. They dump this caramel syrup all over them, they’re to frickin’ die for, though I’m pretty sure there’s enough sugar with all that to bake cookies for the whole damn battalion.”

“Captain.” Winnifred said sharply.

“I’m just passing time waiting for people to start killing each other,” you said, “You’d be shocked how much of this is hurrying up and wait-“

“Captain.” Jalsen hissed, “People to the north.”

“Keep low,” you told Winnifed just before you wrapped your hand around her waist and tossed her brusquely off the tank, making yourself small behind the turret. “How many?” You asked Jalsen.

“Two, maybe three. They seem confident. Not making an effort to hide.”

>Two or three? We can take them. Let me come up with you, we can just scare them away, probably.
>Get in the tank and let’s roll. If they’ve got the nuts to come back they probably think they can win, let’s prove them wrong and hit them with all we got.
>Sounds like high time to get the hell out of here. Let me apologize to the lady for throwing her in the dirt and we’ll make tracks for the rest of the unit, or at least somewhere away from this place.
>Other?

>>2896011
>>Get in the tank and let’s roll. If they’ve got the nuts to come back they probably think they can win, let’s prove them wrong and hit them with all we got.

>>2896011
>Sounds like high time to get the hell out of here. Let me apologize to the lady for throwing her in the dirt and we’ll make tracks for the rest of the unit, or at least somewhere away from this place.

If we can get a hasty shot off I would like to send a WP shell their way, it can provide a distraction while we nip down to a better spot that is less exposed. Giving up the hill might not seem like a great idea, but we can always put more smoke near the top if something up there becomes an issue.

>>2896011
>>Get in the tank and let’s roll. If they’ve got the nuts to come back they probably think they can win, let’s prove them wrong and hit them with all we got.
>>Sounds like high time to get the hell out of here. Let me apologize to the lady for throwing her in the dirt and we’ll make tracks for the rest of the unit, or at least somewhere away from this place.

Got the intel, don't wanna get too separated from the boys.

>>2896207
Your tank is a Luftpanzer 37 "Fuchs," it doesn't have WP shells. It has AP, HE, and canister. WP shells are on the 100mm gun ones.

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>>2896207
>>2896233
Camamity! Ok then, don’t do any shooting at them and just scoot down the hill. We can take shots with the machine guns at them if we see them silhouette themselves.

>>2896011
>>Get in the tank and let’s roll. If they’ve got the nuts to come back they probably think they can win, let’s prove them wrong and hit them with all we got.

>>2896011
>>Get in the tank and let’s roll. If they’ve got the nuts to come back they probably think they can win, let’s prove them wrong and hit them with all we got.

>>2896011
>>Sounds like high time to get the hell out of here. Let me apologize to the lady for throwing her in the dirt and we’ll make tracks for the rest of the unit, or at least somewhere away from this place.
We've already seen about all we're going to see so we may as well rejoin our unit.
We shouldn't shoot at them because we don't know that they're hostile, and it would just let them know we were occupying this position and give them more intelligence on our movements. Better to just drive away and let them wonder about the engine noise.

>>2896011
>Sounds like high time to get the hell out of here. Let me apologize to the lady for throwing her in the dirt and we’ll make tracks for the rest of the unit, or at least somewhere away from this place.

I was intending to have an update out, I do not. I'll also be out for a few hours anyways. I am sorry, but I'll try to have at least one out tonight later.

>>2896011
>Get in the tank and let’s roll. If they’ve got the nuts to come back they probably think they can win, let’s prove them wrong and hit them with all we got.

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“Get in the tank, and let’s roll,” you told your loader, and as he got in, you went on. “If they’ve got the nuts to come back to us, they probably think they can win. Let’s prove them wrong and hit them with all we got.” Then, to Winnifred. “Stay here a moment, we’ll be right back.”

“My pleasure.” Owl 3 scowled up from the dirt. You gave her a mock salute and shut the hatch again.

“Lawrence, take us forward,” you said, “Up to the crest. I want to see what Jalsen saw, and if it needs to be blown up.”

“Oui, immediamonte.”

Luftpanzers were light, and that meant that if they got the proper encouragement, they could get going in a real good hurry. Such was the only explanation as to how you went up that hill so fast, though you were also side crawling, and the hill wasn’t steep in the slightest. You expected everything within earshot to have heard the engine going into a frenzy, but…well, judging from the sounds to the east, including the familiar THOOMP-POW of the ten centimeter mortar cannons, things were already starting to spin up into a proper storm of sewage. With a slight rise where the Luftpanzer temporarily was once more airborne, the tank settled over the crest of the hill, and you peered through the command cupola at the sight before you.

“Armor!” Lawrence warned, and you saw what he was talking about near immediately.

“Three or four men, Jalsen?” you yelped, “Looks like a lot more than that, fella!”

“What shot do you want?” Jalsen demanded, though he already had an armor piercing shell in hand. You’d tell him to load it, perhaps, but maybe it was best to do something else…

>If you didn’t engage these tanks here, they might hit your boys in the back. You had to stop them here. Besides, two against one was hardly fair odds…for them.
>Try to make a clean getaway. You could move forward faster than them back downhill, and join back up with your men. No need to risk this fight.
>Double back and wait on the downslope; they’d come to you, and you’d be in position to get the first shot from a more reliable place.
>Other?
Also
>Keep in mind that you have electric exterior smoke launchers. They can be fired on command, though beware; small arms fire might trigger them if they are shot at.

>>2898826
>>If you didn’t engage these tanks here, they might hit your boys in the back. You had to stop them here. Besides, two against one was hardly fair odds…for them.

>>2898826
>If you didn’t engage these tanks here, they might hit your boys in the back. You had to stop them here. Besides, two against one was hardly fair odds…for them.

>>2898826
>>If you didn’t engage these tanks here, they might hit your boys in the back. You had to stop them here. Besides, two against one was hardly fair odds…for them.

Fire ap at the tankette on the right. See if our mg can penetrate their armor.
From the looks of it, both those tankettes are armed with mg's instead of proper cannons.
No room for Winnifred here, so she should hide somewhere nearby if she isnt already off the tank, give her a pistol or something incase.

>>2898826
>>Keep in mind that you have electric exterior smoke launchers. They can be fired on command, though beware; small arms fire might trigger them if they are shot at.

Considering were about to be lit up by small arms return fire, I think we should deploy them since they were poisonous, and if their discharging we cant exactly have Winnifred tagging along from the outside.

Just that I dont want to obscure our second shot until we knock out their second tankette

>>2898876
To make it clear, both of those tanks have cannons. The one in the hull on the right is a proper cannon with a machine gun turret on top, and one of the turrets on the left has a (rather dinky and short) cannon as well. With the models at this scale I know it's hard to tell exactly, so I'm just clarifying.

Also you dumped Owl 3 back down the hill, and as far as you know is still keeping down there.

>>2898879
didnt realize the thing on the right was supposed to be a hull cannon, I thought it was some sort of weird forward engine exhaust .

They look like Italian Tankettes to me

>>2898826
>>Try to make a clean getaway. You could move forward faster than them back downhill, and join back up with your men. No need to risk this fight.

>>2898826
>>If you didn’t engage these tanks here, they might hit your boys in the back. You had to stop them here. Besides, two against one was hardly fair odds…for them.

>>2898826
>>If you didn’t engage these tanks here, they might hit your boys in the back. You had to stop them here. Besides, two against one was hardly fair odds…for them.

AP the right, deploy smoke on their positions. I don't trust our luck enough to have them simply arrive where we want them, they may surround us on either sides.

Starting back up in about an hour and a half.

>>2899150
To clarify what the external smoke launchers do, they can't really fire far away enough to launch at things. They're defensive measures meant to conceal the area immediately around the vehicle. They do so really quickly and effectively, but they're only really useful for personal defense.

Late boy here.

Almost ready, just had some delays.

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“Load AP, we’re stopping these guys right here.” You turned the turret to the right and showered the tank on the right for a good range. Perhaps you hoped against hope that you could penetrate its armor with the coaxial machine gun, but no. The machine gun did not have armor piercing ammunition, and it looked like the enemy’s armor was plenty thick to stand up to such anyways. You’d have to rely on the main gun, though you did have them decently ranged in.

The sudden appearance of your Luftpanzer had taken the revolutionary reaction force off guard. Perhaps they had been hoping you wouldn’t be so brazen to come right for them, but if you were anything, you were bold, much to these chumps’ current misfortune. The enemy tanks were coming to a stop to start lining up their guns on you, but you’d have the first shot in this duel, and in a contest of life or death, the one with the initiative was usually the winner.

You lined up the sights over the right enemy’s hull, just off the center of it. The Luftpanzer II Fuchs’ cannon fired solid shot, so shot placement counted quite a bit more than usual. As soon as Jalsen reported, “AP Loaded!” you pulled the cannon trigger…

>This roll will require one roll of 2d2, and up to three sets, averaged, of 2d100. These are to determine scattering, based on the grid overlaid on the picture.
>Captain Reinhold Roth-Vogel has a gunnery skill of 60, so after deviation direction is decided by the 2d2, the averaged roll afterwards is reduced by that number. For example, rolling a 70 and an 80 would mean that, after subtraction of gunner skill, there would be ten degrees and twenty degrees of horizontal and vertical deviation respectively.

Rolled 2, 1 = 3 (2d2)

>>2899687

Rolled 44, 2 = 46 (2d100)

>>2899687

Rolled 12, 62 = 74 (2d100)

>>2899687

Rolled 90, 17 = 107 (2d100)

>>2899687

>On Target- No Deviation

The blast and flash from the muzzle brake blowing sideways over the sights cleared, and you heard the wrenching sound of tearing metal shortly after the cannon shot; the new hole was small, and the only indication that anything had been done at all from the outside was the sudden stillness of the enemy vehicle. You’d seen damage done to tanks from penetrating munitions, though, even solid shot. Fragments of the hull and the shot and everything it passed through would have caused violent chaos inside the enemy vehicle. If that tank were by itself, you’d plug it a few more times to make sure it was finished, but for now…

With a heave upwards, you popped back up to the cupola while Jalsen extracted the old shell, to replace it with another armor piercing shot. The first tank had been struck with paralysis, not moving and its hull gun not traversing, but the tank’s brother to its left had stopped, and one of the turrets, one with what appeared to be a short and stubby cannon (but a cannon nonetheless, and not something to try and toy with considering a Luftpanzer II’s thin armor) was beginning to cross over you.

“AP loaded!” Jalsen called, and you sat back down. Should you try and see who was quicker, you thought, or should you move? Or perhaps you should deploy the smoke grenade launchers and hide yourself, but also lose sight of the enemy as well? The infantry, though certainly spooked by your appearance, had been regaining composure when you last saw, and they might try to use the smoke as cover to get closer.

>You were faster before, you could be faster now. Turn the turret and try to shoot first.
>A Luftpanzer II was quick, quicker perhaps than that old tank’s turret could turn and aim effectively with, perhaps? Move downhill and to the left, to try and get into the other tank’s anti-tank blind spot.
>Deploy the smoke grenades. You had to reposition as safely as possible since you were by yourself.
>Other?

>>2899831
Deploy smoke and reposition to the left

>>2899831
>>A Luftpanzer II was quick, quicker perhaps than that old tank’s turret could turn and aim effectively with, perhaps? Move downhill and to the left, to try and get into the other tank’s anti-tank blind spot.

>>2899831
>>Deploy the smoke grenades. You had to reposition as safely as possible since you were by yourself.

>>2899831
>A Luftpanzer II was quick, quicker perhaps than that old tank’s turret could turn and aim effectively with, perhaps? Move downhill and to the left, to try and get into the other tank’s anti-tank blind spot.

>>2899831
>A Luftpanzer II was quick, quicker perhaps than that old tank’s turret could turn and aim effectively with, perhaps? Move downhill and to the left, to try and get into the other tank’s anti-tank blind spot.

I like this option, it plays to our strengths of having a newer tank and a better crew. I’m also a bit wary of staying in one place in case someone survived to key in a shot from the hull cannon of the tank we just shot.

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“Driver,” you got an idea from seeing the ponderous rate of the enemy’s turret turning, “Forward, fast, then full left. Take us towards the left flank!”

No hesitation, no questioning. Your driver yanked the throttle as much as it could and the engine growled, then roared, as the Luftpanzer bolted downhill. You didn’t take any time to see the sights; you had to use this time to rotate the Luftpanzer’s own turret. The power traverse might have been seen as extra weight by designers, but you were thankful they kept it on the Luftpanzer II, as you leaned backwards into the turret controls and swung the piece ninety degrees to the right.

Damn, but you were going quick. The weight of a Luftpanzer going downhill combined with its impressive agility completely nullified the advantage of distance when it came to the enemy’s ability to turn their turret to meet you. “Driver, halt!” you commanded, and it took a fair distance for the tank to dig in its heels, pushing Jalsen against the wall and you into the gun with the inertia, but when you finally skidded to a stop you were well ahead of any enemy attempt to shoot you down. The infantry had all fled to cover, it seemed, and the tank you struck before was coming back to life, turning around. The closest one to shooting, however, was still the twin turreted tank, which was just moments away from shooting at you…

Though not soon enough for you to not shoot first.

>Declare an aim point to shoot on the enemy tank

>>2900465
Aim centre of mass; if it's an old model tank our 37mm should be able to penetrate it frontally

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Aight. Roll 1 2d2 and up to three sets of 2d100, averaged.

I'll be out for tonight soon, to return in some hours. Though it's not like today was especially productive anyways....

Rolled 1, 1 = 2 (2d2)

>>2900548

Rolled 95, 81 = 176 (2d100)

>>2900548

Rolled 18, 40 = 58 (2d100)

>>2900548

Rolled 68, 20 = 88 (2d100)

>>2900548

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Your QM is having a breakdown, please give him feedback so he will believe in his tanks or something.

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>>2901555
If he really feels liked he should mix things up then this is a good opportunity to use Reinhold as the test bed for the main quest. While nobody probably wants to see this dog of the Reich die ignobly, I at least am more concerned about Richter.

I think tanq is doing a great job and doesn't need to stress so much about being boring. One consistent theme I've liked about his quest is the obstacles he throws in our path and how we as Richter/Reinhold overcome them. I wish I could that near as well in real world DMing.

I'm not sure what would be good 'shakeup' additions but I dunno, throw in a new mechanic, make an ally or decision really controversial like resisting the mind control or Hilda faceloving Richter in his sleep.

Final thought: Don't stress out about running late or always making new drawings. You being mentally good is more important, keep up the good shit bossman!

DESU I think the writing is fine? Like I feel most of the players are satisfied with how the quest has been going (both PC and LC) The only thing that people got salty about was the waifu wars.

>>2901555
One thing that I would like to see would be an indication when the vote has been called. It doesn’t have to be some hard time limit, but it would be nice to know if a vote ends up running through the night for example, or if the update has already started and it just hasn’t been posted yet.

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The quest is kino though, really puts the butter on my toast, really puts the giant crab in my giant crab folder. I quite enjoy the planetank expedition, the fresh perspective is nice and I enjoy getting to participate in something that would otherwise just be background news.

>>2901555
Well this is incredibly embarassing.

>>2901588
I appreciate what you're saying, though really, I'm fine. I don't want any of my stresses overshadowing the quest. Though we haven't really broken into the plot proper yet, I'm taking forever to get through these battles and it doesn't help that my prime running time has been gobbled up by an irl obligation that happens in the afternoon through evening

>>2901606
I find waifu wars rather entertaining to be honest, it's satisfying to see people like characters enough to quibble over them, and as long as people don't get overly upset it's just fun.

>>2901610
I'll keep that in mind. Vote times have a tendency to be really long, I know, and it's basically my fault it's that way, but I'll try from now to say when I'm cutting off and writing/drawing, though with the latter it shamefully tends to take way too long.

>>2901697
Noted. I'll keep it up.

Anyways, enough of this. I've got an update ready.

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Another flash from the cannon, the recoil of the gun kicking the light Luftpanzer’s frame back slightly, and you saw a new hole lanced through your target immediately afterwards. The tank suddenly stopped completely, as though the shot had been a blow to the head. A satisfying hit, though you didn’t know if it was completely out of commission. Two hits to the enemy and none to you; you were definitely winning, even if you felt like a boxer with a glass jaw, still just as able to be knocked out with a single blow. It made you wonder for a second; were the Revolutionaries driven enough to remain in their vehicles to the death? There was enough cover about and height variation in the terrain that they could escape your wrath if they bailed, but the most inconvenient thing for you would be if they refused to stop fighting. Every moment they kept you down here was a moment you weren’t looking out for your company, that you couldn’t be contacted for advice or information.

Such seemed to be the case when you looked over to the tank you struck before, and saw it continuing to spin towards you, the hole in its front making it look like a corpse that had stood up once more, its turret stuck in the same position as before. Its crew must have changed positions, in a desperate effort to once more turn their weapons upon you.

“Could you hurry up with that next shell?” you said with some exasperation; The gun was a hair away from being upon you. If it wasn’t one enemy, it was the damned other. At the very least the infantry wasn’t-

Oh, you just had to pay them mind, didn’t you? A look to your left revealed that the ones you thought to be discretely assuming cover to be trying to flank to your left. What crafty bastards. If only they weren't so driven towards death.

With a shhh-clunk the breach of the cannon was closed once more with a new shell in it, and you were levelling your gun at the enemy, though from the look of things, you’d hit each other at exactly the same time…

>Pop smoke and flee. You’d be dancing around each other for forever at this rate, you had to hope you did enough damage to dissuade the enemy from pursuing you.
>Race forward again. They had a fixed gun and probably only half a crew. Much further and you’d be right up in their faces, but maybe that would be fine.
>Test your luck. Take another shot, then get ready to deal with the infantry slinking up to you.
>Other?

>>2901882
>>Pop smoke and flee. You’d be dancing around each other for forever at this rate, you had to hope you did enough damage to dissuade the enemy from pursuing you.
They won't be able to catch up to our main force now, let's bug out.

>>2901882
>Pop smoke and flee. You’d be dancing around each other for forever at this rate, you had to hope you did enough damage to dissuade the enemy from pursuing you.

Writing now, should be another tactical update.

Rolled 60, 79, 35, 56, 56, 32, 32, 25, 2 = 377 (9d100)

Thinking quickly, you reached over to the switch to trigger the exterior smoke grenade launchers, flipped the cover, and turned it to the side. The scenery before you disappeared into a thick white haze, the pops of the smoke bombs just behind the ch-ch-choomp of them popping out in a semicircle in front of your tank.

“Get us out of here, Lawrence. Hard right and back up and over.” As your driver snapped the tank around and threw you and your loader for another loop, you leaned back and let out a sigh, “I doubt they’ll keep pushing on us with the damage we’ve put on them. Let’s get our girl back and see what hot mess we’re going to dive into next.”

“You’re sure they won’t?” Jalsen asked you as the tank swerved uphill, the uncomfortably feeling of the heavy vehicle sliding about on grass and dirt turning your stomach.

A quick check out the cupola told you little. “They’d have to be really stupid,” you guessed, “Each of their tanks’ve taken a hit. They should be doubling back, not looking for another scrap.”

A few of the enemy riflemen were taking potshots from prone positions, impotently pinging against the armor of the Luftpanzer. “They could be driven enough,” Jalsen offered.

“Thankfully, I doubt this is a holy war, or whatever,” you retorted, “Going on the radio now.” The set was switched to the company frequency. “This is Captain Roth-Vogel. I got into some trouble, heading out to rendezvous with first and third platoons. Everybody, give me a status update.”

>Rolling for battles. First is Covacs’ assault on the mortar position, with 2d100 attacks against an enemy d100. His two DCs are 50 each, the enemy’s is 20. After those three is Fischer’s attack which gets a d100 against an enemy that isn’t countering, but is moving away for a DC 40. Finally is 2nd Platoon and Bartholomeu’s hold against their foe, which will be 3d100, 2 DC 50s for his troops, 1 DC 30 for the police allies, for 1d100 of enemy DC 40 armor attack and another for DC 50 against the police.
>Don’t worry about the numbers yourselves, this is for me and how the battle will be going on the bigger map. These’ll be degrees of success by 10.

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There was some delay, as could be expected from platoon commanders in combat. Fischer was the first to reply.

“We fired upon the enemy, but they fled without damage, I am ashamed to admit.” Fischer sounded about as displeased as he could be, which still meant he had some shades of floweriness to his speech left. “Shall I pursue them and engage in a second duel?”

Fischer would not have his answer yet, as Covacs quickly took his turn to run over him.

“There are more enemies here than expected,” he reported, “We have engaged and stopped their fire, but the terrain is too close to safely close. My platoon can’t get close without risking damage. It’s a pain, we can’t leave this behind us, either.”

“Lieutenant Bartholomeu?” you prompted. Silence at first, but then,

“Doing fine.” Your officer and friend said gruffly, “Came fast. One of my platoon took damage, we hit them back. Everything’s too dark and crowded to see for sure how we hit them back. No word on the police, except a lot of noise. Villagers are on the move.”

“Keep moving,” you said over the intercom to your driver as you leaned out of the tank’s turret hatch, cresting over the hill and downward. A quick glance with your binoculars over to Bartholomeu’s position, as you swerved about looking for their exact position, told you it was all in chaos. A set of dark shapes looked to be engaging in close combat; you hoped the policemen were up to this task, especially considering you had had them leave their defendable positions whilst promising their safety.

You leaned back in and prepared to give your commands.

>Give each platoon their commands. You can have them break contact, attack, support one another, whichever. Also, note who you want to go over, and state anything else you want to handle or ask of them.

>>2902114
Get Fischer's platoon to flank and overrun the mortars while we link up with the main force. Afterwards focus on the enemy armour; we need to take the pressure off Bartholomeau and allow the Royalists to maneuver.

>>2902114
Instruct Fischer's platoon to disengage with the armour they attacked and focus on aiding Covacs' platoon in encircling those mortars, if that armour's already on the other side of those woods then we let them run all the way to the river for what I care.

We've got roughly the same distance to cover no matter who we come after, so I reckon we ought to take the heat off of Bartholomeu and the pigs then get him back where we can keep an eye on him. Cut back across the fields, through the town and into the flank of the force engaging the police.

If the mortars are disposed of before we're on our way back have first and third move southward and in the direction of the bridge, hugging the remaining treelines wherever possible while we catch up.

>>2902114
Have Fischer throw the old white smoke at his retreating foes and move his whole platoon to attack Covacs’ target. Instruct Covacs to split his heavies and lights. Have the heavies stay behind and throw as much hate at or over the revolutionaries in support of Fischer’s new assault. The lights including Covacs will make best speed to Bartholomeu. Have Bart send two tanks to help the policemen and hold against any attacks till the reinforcements arrive.

>>2902244
Supporting

As a add on see if any update on contacting the Duke's men;if we can coordinate with the Royalist on the bridge it'd make our lives easier.

I am back from my business and not as tired as last time from it.

Anyways.

>Fischer and Covacs-surround and crush the isolated squad and mortars with overwhelming force. Smoke up gap.
>Bartholomeu-Hold fast, help the pigs with something
>You- Participate in international cholesterol intake reduction. Also see how comms with potential friends is going.

Writing.

“Keep on them, Covacs,” you said quickly, “Fischer, have your heavies put down fog on that open big you were just chasing tanks across, and hit this mortar position in the flank. Covacs is right, we can’t leave them around if we can help it, wipe them out quick and head south and around the treeline, get to that bridge as quick as you can. Bartholomeu? Hold fast. Send a couple guys to help those policemen, maybe. Do as you like. I’m heading over in case you end up needing help.”

“I don’t need help.” Lieutenant Bartholomeu snapped.

“Too bad. Covacs, Fischer.” They both gave you affirmatives. “Good. Check back in when you’ve turned them inside out.”

The tank slipped and slid to a stop all of a sudden, and you were confused for a moment, before being thankful Lawrence had remembered to pick up Owl 3. It would have been embarrassing to leave her here with potential enemy scouts picking after your trail. As you opened the hatch, she was striding forward to climb on, but as she got up on the tread guard, you snatched out and caught her around her narrow waist. She uttered a yelp as you tugged her halfway in the turret, letting her long legs dangle out the side.

“Sorry love, but the way’s going to be a bit too bumpy to just let you ride outside. Lawrence, break some speed records, won’tcha?” A guttural Emrean response came both through the tank and crackling into your headset, and Owl 3 scoffed.

“Hmph. An Emrean. I suppose this tank’s full of traitors, is it not.”

“Damn, you caught me,” you said coyly, “I thought my plan to defect was perfect. I suppose I’m too romantic to hide my true nature.”

Owl 3, as usual, ignored that smart aleck comment. “So I presume I’ll be exiting this vehicle roughly once it is time for a fight?”

“Tossed out of my place like a broad with a hangover,” you mimed throwing her, “Lucky you, you’ll have more clothes on than they tend to.”

“A distinct lack of itchiness too.”

You couldn’t help but grin at that. “Scathing.”

Rolled 11, 26, 72, 23, 70, 98, 50, 59, 75 = 484 (9d100)

Speeding along, every slight bump you ran over feeling like a mighty fist from the earth punched the tank into the air and rattling all the occupants back and forth, you did your best to check in with Battalion and Colonel Talmeir.

“Bird Dog, this is Griffon Actual,” you said, “Assault is progressing as planned. I have noncombatants heading back to the mistress’s place. Are there any updates on contact with the Duke? Things are looking close.”

“Negative, Griffon Actual,” came the response from the old colonel, “Pelican has landed, though, and is deploying in haste.” Well, drat. “We think we’re close, though. Don’t think we can get you their net, but we should at least be able to tell ‘em you’re coming. Don’t delay just for that, though.”

“I won’t, sir. Griffon Actual out.”

“Bird Dog.” Owl 3 said flatly, “You know that’s a rather morbid name for somebody with the paratroopers, don’t you? A dog that retrieves the dead birds from a hunt?” As an intelligence operative working with your unit, of course she had already known all the code names; you supposed this was the first time she had the opportunity to share that thought with you, though.

“It might be,” you admitted, “More for the pilots than us, though.”

“So what’s the news?”

Was it really necessary for her to know? Ah, why not, you supposed. “Pelican’s touched down.” You explained, “If the Revolutionaries had any plans to all fall upon us and wipe us out, it’s too late now. The glider troops are pretty bad dudes. Their captain’s a real hardass, and don’t even get me started on the guys who pilot the things. Strong, tough, real ladies’ men too. They need a refined touch to handle their craft, and the will of a bunker.”

“I’ve read your file, Captain.” Winnifred remained as dull toned as before, “I only hope that that refined touch won’t throw me face first into the dirt again.”

“Captain.” Jalsen coughed, gesturing towards the back. The company call light was flickering, and you quickly snapped over to turn it back from battalion.

“Send it,” you said, now all business.

>Rolling for battles. First is Covacs’ assault on the mortar position like before, with 2d100 attacks. His two DCs are 60 each. After those is Fischer’s attack which gets 2d100 against an enemy that isn’t countering, since they’re having all holy hell rained on them, same DC as Covacs. Then 2nd Platoon and Bartholomeu’s hold against their foe, which will be 3d100, 2 DC 60s for his troops, 1 DC 30 for the police allies, for 1d100 of enemy DC 40 armor attack and another for DC 50 against the police. So 4 dice against the surrounded squad, 3 for the south allies, and another 2 for the enemy attacking them.

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“The enemy mortar holdout has been ground into dust and scattered upon the wind,” Fischer said as soon as you responded.

That phrasing was met with frustration by Covacs. “Fischer, stop speaking in verse! There’s numerous enemies swarming towards us from the east, possibly a platoon’s worth. They must have been seeking to reinforce the people we just blew apart

“You’re sure you got them all?” you asked.

“We destroyed them all and ran over what was left. Do you want us to bury them too? They’re finished.” It must have been Covacs’ time of the month. Well, really, his bimonthly at least. “Should we engage the infantry?”

“I’ll get to that.” You urged patience on the part of your snippy officer.

“I urge action.”

“As do I, the time is now!”

“Thank you Covacs, but please wait a moment. Bartholomeu! How are you doing?”

A terrible passage of seconds. “Well enough. No more reported damage. The enemy’s being difficult to pin down.”

“Well, I’m almost there.” You reassured him, before getting back to your own commanders.

>Instruct your platoons on actions you want them to take. Be aware; Covacs is a careful sort, and Fischer is impulsive and strong headed, so issuing orders that go against what they think is the best idea might result in mild insubordination as they take what they see to be a better plan. Disciplined paratroopers as they may be, they are also encouraged to take initiative by Reich doctrine!
Also, for you-
>Attack the flank of the skirmish with the police. They weren’t doing well, and needed your help, despite the aid of Bartholomeu’s heavy section, you wanted to be sure they took as few casualties as possible.
>Charge through and attack the tanks that were threatening Bartholomeu and his light section. If one of his tanks had been damaged, that could mean your sole remaining childhood friend was in danger…
>Other?

This should be the last update for tonight, but there may be one more depending on how quickly tiredness overtakes me.

>>2903109
Get 1st and 3rd's heavies to fire WP into the infantry;that should halt their advance.Lights should be ready to take of of anyone that makes it through the smoke.
As for us,
>Charge through and attack the tanks that were threatening Bartholomeu and his light section. If one of his tanks had been damaged, that could mean your sole remaining childhood friend was in danger…

>>2903241
Supporting

>>2903241
This works, we got a job to do later.

Also position Fischer to get ready to amicably receive the tanks he escaped from.

>>2903109
Order Covacs and Fischer to lay smoke over any forces that are advancing on them and if possible move to continue pressing forces that are engaging the dukes men. I think they should be left room for their own judgement but remind them we need to be breaking the enemy sooner rather than later.

Call me selfish but I agree we should also prioritize our own over the policemen. It looks like we have the civilians to safety and I think that’s the best we can do without putting our extremely limited resources at more risk.

I need to take a day off this. Sorry.

>>2904473
It's all good bossman.

Update'll be around in about an hour.

,,,Which will probably mean longer, but I'll try to be on time here.

“Go ahead and shower those blokes with burning smoke. They’re dumb enough to advance through that, mow them down. That’s my suggestion, but as long as you keep busting through, I don’t care. Roland! I’m almost there, hang on!” You looked back up through the command cupola once more; the battle was getting closer and closer. “Slow down by that fence,” you told Lawrence, you driver, “We’re dropping off our passenger.”

Owl 3 seemed discomforted by a lack of information on what you were going to do. “…How much are you going to slow down?”

“No time for questions, baby,” you pushed her out of the hatch, letting her hang out the side just as you got to the fence and Lawrence slowed down by…a reasonable amount. “Hang around there until we come back, don’t talk to strangers!” You wound up your hand, “Out ya go!”

Winnifred probably would have some choice words with you later about how you ejected her from the tank with that open palm, but if this next battle went tits up, you’d rather die with the feeling of a woman’s bottom still on your hand. The fear, the jitters, the uncertainty of going up against the foe, those never disappeared, but ever since your first combat…Dolcherr had always had an unnatural calm, and when you asked him how he held it together in your first days in war, he said that he’d always been reassured by your constant joking and laughing. Joking and laughing that you only did to keep the thoughts of death away. Yes, you’d been on the winning side of most of your battles, but the times it did go hairy…it was difficult to feel like a hero of the Reich when your hands trembled like a scared boy.
The confidence of victories and the maturation of your alter ego was what set you apart from your crew as you pointed them steadily on, towards the flashes of gunfire and cannon, and the cracks of bullets and shells splitting the ground, echoing into the hills. In the dim lamplight of the tank’s interior, you recognized in Jalsen’s eyes a focused uncertainty that you’d learned to drive deep, deep below.

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“Enemy!” Lawrence announced, pointing out the policemen and revolutionaries engaged in brutal close quarters combat ahead, hammering at one another’s’ cover with blind fire from around the edges of trees, the flames of thrown petrol bombs throwing up choking smoke and orange burning light turning the woods into a miniature hell.

“Blow past them, our target’s ah-“ BOOMPH-PNGPNGPNGPNG The sound of a shrapnel shell flying over and blowing apart in between you and the brawl drowned you out for a moment as shards of metal bounced off the tank, a shower of steel that you were barely protected from. “Keep going forward!” you resumed; your true target was the tanks that Bartholomeu was engaging; the actual threat to his forces. The threat to his life.

“Halt!” you shouted into the intercom as soon as you spotted the enemy tanks. Two light tanks, two more slightly heavier tanks; you recognized them as Reich model LpZ 24s, armed with 2cm automatic cannons, though their fire seemed conservative. The other light tanks appeared to heavy large machine guns, possibly 12.7 millimeter. Both were capable of penetrating a Luftpanzer’s thin hull (though the Luftpanzer's turret was protected enough against such), though they must have been having as much trouble hitting Bartholomeu’s platoon as he was having hitting them. “Load AP Shot,” you told Jalsen as you dialed in the gunsights…

>Pick which target to engage.
>Also, note any other actions or maneuevers you want to take.

>>2906880
Aim for the leftmost tank behind the group of three, they don’t seem like they have noticed us, and with some luck the group of three won’t be able to recognize they are under attack until we shift fire to them.

I also assume the engagement with the policemen is far enough away that we don’t have to worry about some straggler throwing a fire bomb on us?

>>2906952
>I also assume the engagement with the policemen is far enough away that we don’t have to worry about some straggler throwing a fire bomb on us?

That is correct.

Though something else on the greater map might be of concern.

>>2906880

>>2906952
Supportan

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Alright, leftmost vehicle. Give me a 2d2 and up to 3 2d100, aim skill 50 now since this is further than before.

Rolled 1, 2 = 3 (2d2)

>>2907048

Rolled 71, 64 = 135 (2d100)

>>2907048
Also rolling once for the shot

Rolled 65, 35 = 100 (2d100)

>>2907048

Rolled 21, 30, 2, 36, 13 = 102 (5d100)

These rolls for my purposes. First three allies, latter two enemy, roll under 40 and 25 respectively for these.

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The shot you took didn’t feel exactly on target, but you didn’t linger on to see. It was merely left up to fate as you swiveled the turret right with the manual fine adjustment crank. You passed over another tank only to see the side of its turret rent open; it was now a secondary target, as Jalsen was still pulling the shell out of the breach. Hurry up, won’t you? you thought, even though you knew the man was doing his best. A lucky shot from one of those tanks, though…

One of the Lpz-24s was lit up by the flash from their cannon, loosing a pair of shots one after the other. The far off sound of a metallic crunk made an eye involuntarily twitch. The shot wasn’t loaded yet as you crossed over the two frontmost tanks…

…But it didn’t matter. A spray of flame lit the two tanks as a return barrage ripped the one closest to you to pieces, the contents of its guns bursting outwards with a mighty crack. Its side hatches burst open, and you heard a whirring sound as one was blown out past your tank. It was hard to see past the inferno, but the other tank appeared to be gouting smoke as well, and was almost certainly finished as you spotted its olive begarbed crew bailing out and fleeing backwards. The other two tanks remained stunned from their previous hits; you wondered, should you finish them?

>The tanks were finished, but the crews would not be allowed to melt away into the night. Machine gun them while they were in the open.
>Finish off the two tanks. Even if your allies would likely do the same, it would be best to help finish the job.
>Immediately turn about to help the embattled police.
>Was there something to the south? You couldn’t say for sure, but your flank that way was open…
>Other?

>>2907182
>Finish off the two tanks. Even if your allies would likely do the same, it would be best to help finish the job.
Then
>>Immediately turn about to help the embattled police.
Let's make sure that they stay down

>>2907182
>Was there something to the south?

This should be southeast or east, by the by

>>2907182

>>2907194
I'm in for this

>>2907194
I’ll support that, but I’d like to ask Bart for one of his tanks to help.

Rolled 97 (1d100)

I am writing, then.
>DC 15

Turning the turret back, you scarcely waited a moment for Jalsen to call the shot being loaded to fire it away into one of the stunned tanks. You already knew your ranging was perfect from the first shot; the center hull just below the turret was plugged with a shot, before you turned the turret to the next tank and shot it once more as well. You were cold, and efficient about it. There was no contest in finishing off a helpless enemy, no satisfaction to distract you from the murder, so you merely did it as though an automaton. The job done, you called on the Company net.

“Lieutenant Bartholomeu, I would like to borrow one of your tanks.”

There was no response from Bartholomeu.

“Lieutenant.” You said again. Maybe he hadn’t heard you, but with the battlefield having quieted down, he must have known to check in again, even without the flickering of the activity light, yet there was nothing.

Far to your left, there was a strange, tearing and bursting sound, followed by the crack of a cannon. You looked over through the cupola periscopes, and saw the final moments of a tree almost fifty meters away exploding at its middle.

What in the hell? You forgot about contacting Bartholomeu for a moment. “Lawrence, reverse us, and take us through that copse to our right back towards the police. Something’s taking potshots at us.”

“From where?” Jalsen asked as your driver put the tank into gear. “That impact was far away.”

“We’re the only thing that can be seen too well from that direction,” you answered, “Let me see what it is.”

You raised yourself as far as you could out of the uncomfortably tiny top hatch of the cupola and looked about with your binoculars. A pair of blurry shapes were zipping about from the direction of the river. You had noted some armored cars progressing south after your company proper’s assault towards the bridge had begun. Was this them, or a new patrol? They were certainly larger than the one you’d fought before. They had shot from too far away, though, and with not nearly enough skill. You were comfortable again once you’d progressed beyond cover, and did your best to contact your 2nd platoon officer again. “Bartholomeu? Covacs, Fischer, has Bartholomeu said anything?”

“It’s been only, a moment.” Covacs replied drily. “The enemy attack was stopped by our heavies’ barrage. We’re advancing along the treeline as we speak.”

“…Good, that’s good.” You said uneasily, looking back up through the cupola. You were headed back towards the direction the police were fighting, but…it seemed eerily quiet, the violence you’d passed through earlier having vanished near completely, the only remnant of it being the bright light of what was left of flames, some smaller fires under the trees spreading from the remains of petrol bomb impacts. You squinted, but couldn’t see any movement whatsoever, though you did see the heavy Luftpanzers beyond the trees and to the left front. You gave them a quick signal light message. Contact?

The response was swift. No contact.

>This could be the heavies’ responsibility, then. You had to go and link up with Bartholomeu directly.
>You had to investigate this. Your tank was better optimized for precise close in combat, you had to check if there were surviving police…or enemy.
>Turn back around and deal with the armored cars behind. You’d be able to get the drop on them again from cover.
>Other?

>>2907341
>You had to investigate this. Your tank was better optimized for precise close in combat, you had to check if there were surviving police…or enemy.

>>2907341
>>You had to investigate this. Your tank was better optimized for precise close in combat, you had to check if there were surviving police…or enemy

>>2907341
>You had to go and link up with Bartholomeu directly. Have the heavies join you so they can regroup with the rest of their platoon and be ready to engage the armored cars if they approach.

>>2907341
>You had to investigate this. Your tank was better optimized for precise close in combat, you had to check if there were surviving police…or enemy.

>>2907341
>>This could be the heavies’ responsibility, then. You had to go and link up with Bartholomeu directly.

Could we have been engaged by the police at gun? They arnt tied into our coms so might have misidentified us as hostile?

>>2906880
Late, but is that one of our long range escorts flying around in the background, if not then we might be screwed on our thunder run if we havnt fucked that already by delaying so much if their are hostile attackers up.

Also try to raise Barr's heavies on the radio ask them what they last heard from their platoon commander.

I am up and coffee'd. I will be writing now.

>>2908474
>Could we have been engaged by the police at gun? They aren't tied into our coms so might have misidentified us as hostile?

That is a possible scenario, but you heard the shot and it didn't come from their direction, so most likely not.

>Late, but is that one of our long range escorts flying around in the background, if not then we might be screwed on our thunder run if we haven't fucked that already by delaying so much if their are hostile attackers up.

It's possible, but more likely it's a scout (a long range one on loan from the Reichsmarine perhaps). The fighters prefer keeping high up. You can ask battalion about the current air situation, of course. In fact, I'll probably stick that in the next update.

“Take us closer in,” you instructed your driver, “I need to check out those woods. Take it slow, lights full. I want plenty of warning if anybody comes for us. Jalsen, hang out the side and keep an eye out, I need to talk to some people.” Firstly, you used the forward signal lights to get the heavies on the alternate channel, so they could speak to you. They complied, and you quickly asked them, “Hey, second platoon. I’m trying to reach your Lieutenant. When’s the last you heard from him?”

“Just a few minutes ago, while the fighting was still hot. Haven’t heard since.”

Damnation. “Roger that. I’m going into these woods where the police were fighting, I want to check on them. It’s too quiet.”

“Do you want us to help?”

“Nah, nah. Keep out and look to the southeast, something might be coming from there. You aren’t much good with precise work or close in stuff anyways.”

“We can dismount-“

“Keep in your goddamn tanks.” You snapped. “And keep checking for Lieutenant Bartholomeu on the radio.”

“…Sir.”

“Good to know we agree,” you said bitterly, switching off that net. “Jalsen, seen anything?”

“May as well be ghosts in those trees. Anybody popping up is trying really hard to keep hidden. I can’t tell who’s enemy or not from what I’ve seen.” Your loader said from outside, peeking over the opened side hatch of the turret.

From outside, you heard the hum of an airplane, not the heavy drone of a transport, but the lighter buzzing of a twin engine craft that was much more lightly built. Wondering what it was, you called up Colonel Talmeier on battalion. “Bird Dog, this is Griffon Actual.”

“Griffon Actual, I read you. What is it?”

“Just checking up on the air situation. Are hawks circling?” You popped out of the turret and did your best to look for the source of the sound in the dark night sky, futile as it seemed to try.

“At angels eighteen. Why?”

“Just seeing somebody hanging out lower.”

“Gulls. Nothing out of place.” Talmeier responded. Gulls was the code for Reichsmarine patrol plan support, in the theoretical that it could be gotten. You supposed the project head had managed to pull some strings to get the Reichsmarine to cooperate, which would have been a weighty task indeed considering that not only would the closest Reichsmarine aviation be based out of a Protectorate, but Reichsmarine Aviators were notoriously disagreeable. You’d heard carrier pilots were the worst of all, but then again, you and they were kin of a sort. Pioneers of a new sort of warfare; you knew about as much about ships as you did about flower arranging, but one thing that was easy to hear about was how much the situation had changed on the seas since the seas to the east opened up with Caelus over the horizon. Such was apparently why carriers even existed now.

“Right, that was all. Operations are going smoothly besides that,” you reported, “Does the Duke know we’re coming yet?”

“Contact has been established, yes. His forces have been informed of your efforts. Hurry it up, apparently they’re under some pressure.”

“I’ll get it done, Bird Dog. Griffon Actual, out.” You went back into the turret to switch back to the company set. “Still nothing, Jalsen? They had an antitank gun with them, you spot that?”

“Negative.”

That could be bad news, you thought, if things had gone totally south. “Lawence, halt here.” After the tank had stopped, you went on with the rest of your plan of action. “Jalsen, stay in the tank and take over gunnery, cover Lawrence and I as we take a look. If there’s anything too scary, we’ll come right back. Anything less than that’s not a match for a pair of Luftpanzer troopers. Come on then, Emrean, we’re taking a walk.” You tapped your foot on Lawrence’s back, and he cursed in Emrean at you for scuffing up his jacket.

Exiting the tank was the most dangerous part of dismounting in combat, after you were off the thing, you could vanish into the ground as well as any infantryman, so after you and Lawrence had done so and gave your immediate surroundings a good sweep, without any shots popping off in your direction (there were still plenty from the battles to the south and north, but your surroundings were still quite mild by comparison), you felt safe enough to creep towards the woods. Luftpanzers were quite cramped, and much space was devoted to basic necessities and munitions; banging your head against the interior lamp’s protective cage was an annoyingly frequent event when you first trained on these. That also meant that your dismount armament was quite thin; besides the submachinegun, the only armament available to its crew were pistols, one of which Lawrence held ready in a cocked arm.

Ah, well. Maybe you should have been focusing on a more positive possibility. That the policemen were merely keeping their heads down, and had more or less won without even realizing it. A battle often didn’t feel won until enough time had passed without being shot at, after all. Though, the woods ahead were still harshly lit from the bottom by smoldering flame, and the dancing shadows were so amorphous in shape that a man and a bush were indistinct. As you crept closer, you heard indistinct rasping, and the crackling of undergrowth as men moved about, but still saw little…

>Stop and wait, and watch. Something would have to move eventually. (Prompts an observation roll)
>Call out for anybody to come out, or respond. You’d alert any remaining enemies to your position, but the police would at least be able to tell you they were there.
>Sneak into the midst of it all. You couldn’t count on a situation being one way or the other, so best presume the worst, while also keeping active and on the front foot.
>Other?

>>2909093
>>Stop and wait, and watch. Something would have to move eventually. (Prompts an observation roll)
Totally unrelated but why is an Emrean fighting for the Reich given the entire Emrean War?

>>2909110
Setting questions are always welcome! Though they'll be answered from the perspective of the main character's knowledge, which isn't exactly encyclopedic, nor sometimes nuanced.

The answer is that while Corporal Lawrence is ethnically an Emrean, he isn't from the Emrean Republic that's up north of the Reich, but from a bordering protectorate where there's still an Emrean minority. They aren't looked at very kindly, but the majority of Reich troops that were first fighting in the Emrean War were actually regional Emrean formations, so people like Lawrence are stuck between a rock and a hard place; the Reich proper doesn't like them much, but their fellows up north like them even less, though that's largely within the prior generation for the Reich at least.

The Old Guard put a lot of blame on Emrean ethnic troops for the greatest failures of the war, but Kaiser Henrik has extended an open hand towards the ethnic minorities of the Reich. Some say to undermine said old guard, especially given his history with such.

>>2909162
Okay so they're basically Emreans that stayed loyal during and after the war then. Also are we able to call for air support now, or are these aircraft just for air superiority?

>>2909277
>Also are we able to call for air support now, or are these aircraft just for air superiority?

The current craft overhead are for keeping the skies clear, especially for the transports that only just finished coming over. They aren't fitted for bombing, and the CAS craft have been delayed due to the airfield not being held (they don't have the range to come over and go back), so the amount of effective air support available is...nil. That may change in the future.

>>2909093
>>Stop and wait, and watch. Something would have to move eventually. (Prompts an observation roll)

>>2909093
>Stop and wait, and watch. Something would have to move eventually. (Prompts an observation roll)

Peering over the orange and purple shadow play of the woods, you held up a hand for Lawrence to stop, and squatted down by the large root of a tree, cupping a hand behind your ear. There was much to isolate the sound of life ahead from; the far off booming of artillery, cannon fire, rifles and machine guns, the engines of the Luftpanzers grumbling ahead and behind, the scout plane overhead, and somehow, apparently inspired by the sound of conflict, crickets playing their accompanying tune in the final autumn days of their concert season.

Still though, you set your eyes forward. Watched the fires ever so slightly die down further, having failed to spread to a more disastrous state. The lenses of the binoculars, you hoped, would not glint from the light, and the trees were scanned over, the chunks taken out of them by rounds quite numerous, and undoubtedly scars that would remain present on this wood for years to come in memorial of the battle here.

Judge Above, you really were turning into Fischer, weren’t you? You thought as you allowed your thoughts to settle completely, only taking in what your senses told you. Soon enough, you were in a state where if a leaf fell ahead of you, you were certain that you would be able to see it. At least, such was the hearty task you placed upon yourself. Being slightly nearsighted did mean you were well used to squinting…not that the combat pilot academy had respected such.

>Roll up to three sets of 1d100, averaged. DC is 50 to see anything, with degrees of success based on how much lower the roll is than the DC.

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>2910319

>>2910432
...yeah okay. Writing.

For but a moment, the wind was still, the crickets stopped, and a veil of peace was thrown over the night as nothing but far off echoes broke the night. The feeling of utter silence was ethereal, and in the midst of that time, when were you to breathe you could count on hearing it, you heard all important, telling sounds.

”Let’s get out of here,” in Vitelian, followed by the rustle of brush, just before the moment of quiet was ripped asunder by a fusillade seeking to make a mockery of the noise before. Was that good, or bad? It could be dealt with later. The Revolutionaries had, by what could only be either divine blessing or incredibly misfortune, let a whisper of their plans get out, and you needed to hear nothing else. Their shadows appeared once again in the lamplight and fire, and even though there was scarcely a clear shot for more time than it took to blink, their actions and disposition were clear. Not wishing to further a fight, they were doing their best to slip away, and their surroundings were such that they may have gotten away with it if you hadn’t caught wind of their intent, and had a careful eye on their position.

What to do with your newfound knowledge, though?

>Let them get away. If they were avoiding a fight, that meant you could probably get back to the rest of the group with 2nd Platoon with little contest.
>Get back to the tank and rally the heavy section to chase them down; finish this skirmish violently.
>Maybe there was a chance for information; stalk their most likely retreat path, and perhaps you could ambush one of them heading up the rear?
>Other?

>>2910490
>Maybe there was a chance for information; stalk their most likely retreat path, and perhaps you could ambush one of them heading up the rear?

>>2910490
>>Get back to the tank and rally the heavy section to chase them down; finish this skirmish violently.

We have tonks, use them. Even if it's just firing in their general vicinity as a figurative boot out the door.

>>2910490
>>Let them get away. If they were avoiding a fight, that meant you could probably get back to the rest of the group with 2nd Platoon with little contest.

It's not our job to mop of every little bit of resistance. We should be punching through that bridge

>>2910490
>>Let them get away. If they were avoiding a fight, that meant you could probably get back to the rest of the group with 2nd Platoon with little contest.

>>2910490
>Maybe there was a chance for information; stalk their most likely retreat path, and perhaps you could ambush one of them heading up the rear?
They're retreating, they won't notice someone missing.

>>2910490
>>Get back to the tank and rally the heavy section to chase them down; finish this skirmish violently Taking these guys out before they can regroup at the bridge will make 1st and 3rd Platoon's life easier.

Sorry for the delay, I had computer trouble last night and got roped into something else this morning, but as soon as I get back I'll roll off if things are still tied up.

Rolled 1 (1d3)

Aight.

1 will be letting them go to take everybody back north (after linking everybody back up presumably)
2'll be rounding up the heavies to chase down these guys and either scatter or finish them off
3 is going to be sneeki breeki kidnapping

“Lawrence,” you hissed to your driver as low as you could, “Lawrence!” you repeated slightly louder, until he finally heard you. With a cutting motion just below your neck and a thumb gestured back to the tank, you informed him of you plan; cut and run, these people wouldn’t be sticking around. You could get back to the tank and go at your leisure from here. Relative leisure. It would remain to be seen if you could shake off the armored cars that had been taking pot shots at you, or if they would bother to provoke a whole Luftpanzer platoon. If they were dumb enough to try and do that, though, they were also probably too dimwitted to maneuver to intercept you either. It was dangerous to underestimate an enemy, be it in concerns to their intelligence or their stupidity, but this seemed the most likely scenario to expect.

“Good work, Jalsen,” you said sarcastically to your loader as you swept yourself back into the turret. He formed a thin line with his mouth as he moved out of your gunner/commander position and back to the left side of the turret, ducking under the gun in doing so. “Second platoon, go on and cover me as I come over. The Revolutionaries are going to be trying to run out of the woods, let them flee. No need to fight an enemy that knows he’s lost. I’m checking on what’s left in the woods first, then we’ll hop over to your light section and platoon commander to link back up. I know I’m keeping you off their platoon net, but I’m sure they’ll understand.” Then, back to the tank internal communication line. “Driver, take us forward. Make it quick, the Revolutionaries might be leaving, but I don’t see why their exit should be leisurely.”

No heavily accented words of acknowledgement were needed as the tank was shoved through its paces, right to the edge of the woods, where you spied Halmeggian Police officers starting to peek out of cover. You recognized the looks on their faces; that mixture of fear and relief, as their nerves were stuck on, and already starting to fray. They had signed up to be policemen, not to engage in close combat against a well-armed and driven enemy. The men could only be pitied, as you opened the hatch back up and waved at them; they gathered about, not bothering to maintain perimeter, all seeking guidance, it seemed. Many had taken off their helmets, now bare headed with once neat dirty blue uniforms, looking about as ragged as the Vitelians tended to.

“Where’s your commander?” you asked first. They all looked at one another hopelessly. “Did he have a second in command?” Silence. Damn it all. You felt your shoulders sag as you thought about how these men must have felt; what their leaders must have thought as they engaged in the last battle of their lives, for a cause they didn’t want to fight for. No, they had been fighting to protect their countrymen, the unarmed citizenry, who had managed to be kept out of the fighting. They had succeeded in their duty, small comfort though that may be. “We’re all clear now. If you keep heading southwest, that a ways,” you pointed, “That’s where our friends are, and where those villagers were going. We won’t ask you to fight anymore. Up top of that hill right there are some paratroopers if you don’t want to go it alone, but we can’t escort you all the way back. We’ve got other matters to take care of. Which of you is the new leader?” Again, there was silence. “Well,” you said, some frustration leaking in, “Figure it out. I’m heading over there,” you pointed to where 2nd platoon’s light section would be, “You can come over too, but I’m not going to lead you by your hands.”

“Will they be alright, you think?” Jalsen asked as you ducked back in.

“We’re alright, aren’t we?” you asked back.

“By the grace of the Judge of All Things, we are sound of body.”

“So long as they don’t join up in any western cults, you think they’ll be sound of mind, then?”

Jalsen was little amused. “The Cathedra advises soundness of the spirit. A man whose thinks clearly may still be broken. The same cannot be said for those of peaceful conscience.”

Peaceful conscience, huh? You thought, Better hope I don’t get screwed up enough to join the Cathedra Cult. The Cathedra, the Holy See, whatever it was called wherever, was some successor to the old church that held massive influence over the continent before the time of Kaiser Alexander. They had been waning for some time, until finally the first Kaiser saw what was left as a threat to his rule, and had the church dismantled, along with the bishiporics that constituted it. Jalsen’s particular brand of faith recognized more hardline laws than your rather casual acknowledgement of the Judge of All Thing’s place, but he didn’t deign to make that a problem between the two of you.

When you made your way over to 2nd Platoon’s light section, you already dreaded what you saw. Beside a pair of battle damaged tanks, you saw a pair of fellows leaning against one of the tanks, another pair on the ground, covered by shrouds, their boots poking out from underneath. Sharp relief only came when you jumped out of your Luftpanzer before it had even come to a stop, and ran over to see Lieutenant Roland Bartholomeu against his tank. In the red light of low headlamps, you could see his face contorted in fury and pain; bandage bindings had been applied to his upper leg, his arm, his head and his hand. One scratch high on his head streamed blood down his face, and a particularly dark and large spot was under a dressing on the right of his chest, while he breathed hoarsely through grit teeth.

“Reinhold,” he coughed, stumbling towards you, “I can still fight. I’ve suffered worse.”

“Easy, easy,” you shushed him, and pushed him back to lean against his tank. “Relax. Damn, I’m glad you’re alright,” you pulled your cap low over your eyes; now wasn’t a time to tear up. “Give me a damage report, then. What’s the casualties?”

“I’m still-“

“Fucking hell, Lieutenant. Tell me who can still fight besides you.”

“My tank was hit badly,” Bartholomeu said, “The transmission, tread, and turret were damaged, as well as the traverse. My loader was killed…” he regarded the shrouds grimly, “And my driver has a leg wound. It’s been bound up, but…” he pointed again to the shroud, “Sergeant Keffel lost his driver, and he himself is badly wounded.” He pointed to the panzer commander slumped against the tank, who weakly saluted. “If we combine our crews, and I use his tank, which isn’t as badly damaged, I’ll be fine. One tank down, second platoon is still plenty up for a fight.”

“Are you alright though, Roland?” you asked, eyeing over his injuries. As much as he might have insisted that he was fine, his injuries were more than enough to be pulled off the frontline. Could you be shamed for seeing a spark of hope? If Roland Bartholomeu had been wounded, he could be evacuated; taken away from this battle, where Dolcherr had died…

Though Bartholomeu must have read your thoughts, and he put a hand on your shoulder, heavily. “Reinhold. Don’t send me back. Please. You can’t. I can still fight, I’m not beaten yet.”

He still panted for breath, despite being still, and what focus there was in his eyes was blended with a craziness from anger and pain. He was your friend, one of the few you had left, but was he a friend you couldn’t allow to be hurt more…or was he a friend whose wish to fight on had to be respected above your own needs?

Bartholomeu noticed your hesitance at answering, and brought his hand to your collar, gripping it with new strength. “Judge Above damn us all to hell, I can’t leave now! I’ve barely done a thing, while Douran…” His hand loosened, but then regained ferocity as he dragged you towards him, teeth grit and shining in the dim light. “I’ve been sent home with my tail between my legs and a flesh wound before, and that time Grabb died while I was fucking about. Douran’s body isn’t even cold, don’t you dare send me back to leave you alone and get killed! Don’t make me the sole fucking survivor to drag myself before Linda and tell her why I couldn’t keep you two bastards alive!”

Bartholomeu was a passionate man, one who off the battlefield was quite generous and kindhearted, but when he was angry there was little one could do about it. You’d known him for long enough to tell when he could and couldn’t be talked down; and this was not such a time. He expected one answer from you, and any attempt to negotiation would be seen as an insult. An invitation to brawl, for him to trade blows with you like every other time he couldn’t let go of his emotions and you both beat each other’s’ heads in like you and Dolcherr never would have. If you were to turn down his heartfelt request, you’d have to force it…but would you do that?

>You couldn’t insult your friend by denying him his right to seek vengeance, to remain at your side. He would remain commander of 2nd Platoon, and join you.
>Whether he liked it or not, Bartholomeu was wounded, and combat incapable. Inform him to return to headquarters; he could escort the policemen and catch up with the citizenry using the damaged yet mobile tank. It would still be a noble last assignment.
>Try to reason with him. If Bartholomeu could be convinced to go back on his own, things would be much easier. (Write in your attempt to convince him; be aware that Roland Bartholomeu is a hothead who's very likely to not listen to you)
>Bartholomeu had to go home, but if he wouldn’t agree, you would preemptively force the issue. Sock him good and have his second in command take all the wounded and the damaged tank, as well as the police, back to base after the Lieutenant was down for the count. He’d be mad at you later, but he could complain once you were both safely back in the Reich.
>Other?

>>2913550
>You couldn’t insult your friend by denying him his right to seek vengeance, to remain at your side. He would remain commander of 2nd Platoon, and join you.

>>2913550
Let's compromise. Keep Bartholomeu's damaged tank with us but attach 2nd Platoon's remaining tanks to 1st and 3rd. He might be able to fight but he's not really in the state of mind to be commanding right now.

>>2913550
>Whether he liked it or not, Bartholomeu was wounded, and combat incapable. Inform him to return to headquarters; he could escort the policemen and catch up with the citizenry using the damaged yet mobile tank. It would still be a noble last assignment.
He's just going to get himself killed if he tries to keep going. Can't he see the hypocrisy here?

>>2913550
>Whether he liked it or not, Bartholomeu was wounded, and combat incapable. Inform him to return to headquarters; he could escort the policemen and catch up with the citizenry using the damaged yet mobile tank. It would still be a noble last assignment.

>>2913550
>Other?
Force him to demonstrate that in his wounded state he can still mount and operate a tank, hell that he can even stand up without painkillers.
Otherwise:
>Whether he liked it or not, Bartholomeu was wounded, and combat incapable. Inform him to return to headquarters; he could escort the policemen and catch up with the citizenry using the damaged yet mobile tank. It would still be a noble last assignment.

If he cannot prove he is capable then he is not only risking his life but everyone else in the Platoon that he is responsible for.

Rationally explaining won't work but maybe exploiting his sense of duty will.

"You would never have sent Douran into combat if he was this hurt."

Writing to tell Lt. Bartholomeu that he's going home, then. With noted additions.

There was one thing that you had to make certain of before anything else; one thing that would seal the deal no matter how you felt.

“Alright, Lieutenant,” you said, voice steady, “Show me one thing first. That tank right there. Go ahead and mount it, climb on and get in.”

Both your gaze and Bartholomeu’s traveled to his injured leg, and from his expression you already knew how this would turn out before it was even tried. Bartholomeu being who he was though, you knew he would try his hardest regardless. He turned around, rested his hands on the tread guard a moment, before exhaling stiffly and pushing himself upwards.

“Hrrrrrrfffmm!” He grunted, but his wounded arm collapsed under him, and he bumped his chin on the mudguard as he fell down. “F-furgh, damn!” He tried to lean on the guard, and throw his leg up, but the one he tried first was his wounded one, and he failed to put it over. A few quick breaths later, he tried with his other leg, but his wounded one fell beneath him. A final effort was made to salvage the attempt as he fell, but he couldn’t catch himself with one arm, and fell with a harsh, whispered swear flat onto his back, where he lay limply. You walked up beside him, and squatted down beside his head, looking down at him solemnly. Bartholomeu’s gaze was empty as he looked back up, wistful, and accepting, though he still offered resistance. “I can’t be sent back. Not yet.”

“Imagine you’re me for a moment, bud.” You sighed, “and you’re Douran. Could you send Dolcherr into combat if he was looking like you are now?”

“I’m not Douran,” Bartholomeu said stubbornly, uselessly.

“Nah. You’re still alive, you can still come with me for drinks,” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder and raising him up. “The only place you’re going is home, old buddy.”

As you were close together, you saw a tear roll down Bartholomeu’s cheek as he furrowed his brow and shut his eyes. “This isn’t goddamn fair,” he continued to protest, “It’s happening all over again, everything’s the same. I’m not any stronger, and I can’t even lean on anybody this time.”

“I’ve got one last order for you,” you told Bartholomeu, sidestepping his lamentation, “I need you to return to headquarters with your wounded. Escort the police and their wounded, as well as the villagers when you get past them, back there too. Take the damaged Luftpanzer the rest of the way, nobody should bother you if you’ve got that. That’s a good enough send off, isn’t it? Protecting the weak and all that? It’d be a lot better than just going and getting yourself killed.”
Lieutenant Bartholomeu opened his eyes and bit his lip. “I want to refuse everything you say. Tell you to go fuck yourself, that I’m coming with you, but…” he looked pitifully at his leg, “I don’t even know if I could chase you down to kick your ass.”

“I’ll help you into your tank,” you said, lifting him under his arm, “So long as you promise to follow my orders. Once you get back, not you nor a single one of anybody you took gets to come back to me like a lost puppy. Got it?” Bartholomeu said nothing as you lifted him up, helped him up gradually, until he was standing once more in a tank’s turret; the damaged one that could still move, to be precise. He leaned heavily outwards, arm resting on the hatch opening from inside. With some effort and the help of the healthy members of the light section, you got the rest of the wounded either walking or ready to move on the tanks, and it was agreed that everybody but the crew of the one undamaged tank would help get the wounded back and watch over them.

“Reinhold,” Bartholomeu finally called just as everything was ready to go, the policemen from earlier filtering in, “Don’t you dare make me regret leaving you alone.”

You gave him a little tip of your cap and grinned up at him, doing your best to look sunny and bright. “I promise I’ll introduce you to any fine ladies I meet here. So long as you’re okay with being their second lay.”

You’d tried at humor, but Bartholomeu merely stared, then slowly looked away, and leaned back into the turret. His hopes must have been low, but you were confident of coming back. Especially so that a lame joke wouldn’t be the last thing you said to him.

-----

With Bartholomeu’s departure handled shockingly painlessly, you took the sole remaining undamaged Luftpanzer Fuchs, while trusting the retreating wounded and their escort to scuttle the immobile tank, and returned to 2nd Platoon’s heavy section. Bartholomeu had designated Sergeant Schneider the acting platoon commander, who was in one of the two “Ein” mortar cannon armed Luftpanzers, though reorganization of platoons could just as easily be handled by you. You wondered; should you have Schneider command the reduced platoon, or take 2nd platoon under your wing?

>Let Schneider command 2nd platoon; you could use it as a reserve even if it was understrength, and it would be best to keep it separate and independent just in case.
>Take over command; you planned to be active in the front anyways, and Schneider could just be your second in command.
>Plan to divvy 2nd platoon up between 1st and 3rd; even if no further casualties were taken, it would make both units stronger.
>Other?

>>2914295
>>Let Schneider command 2nd platoon; you could use it as a reserve even if it was understrength, and it would be best to keep it separate and independent just in case.

>>2914295
>Take over command; you planned to be active in the front anyways, and Schneider could just be your second in command.

>>2914295
>>Let Schneider command 2nd platoon; you could use it as a reserve even if it was understrength, and it would be best to keep it separate and independent just in case.

As long as we trust Schneider and his tank has a radio. Never know when you need to make it look like we have an extra platoon, full or not.

>>2914295
>>Let Schneider command 2nd platoon; you could use it as a reserve even if it was understrength, and it would be best to keep it separate and independent just in case.

>>2914295
>>Let Schneider command 2nd platoon; you could use it as a reserve even if it was understrength, and it would be best to keep it separate and independent just in case.

I am around now. Writing.

As soon as you arrived back to 2nd Platoon’s heavy section, the last undamaged member of its light section in tow, you dismounted and made a hand signal for the other tanks to open up. When they did so, you shouted to them, “Hey! Which one of you is Sergeant Schneider?” When the man who was Schneider responded, you pointed a finger at them. “Lieutenant Bartholomeu’s been wounded, and he’s leaving the field. You’re in charge of second platoon now, which is you heavies and this guy right here,” you pointed at the Luftpanzer Fuchs, “Congratulations on the field promotion. You think you can hack it?”

“I can, Captain, sir.”

Confidence. A heartening sign, but then again, few of the members of the Luftpanzer Battalion would have been strangers to battle coming in on this operation. “Great,” you said, “You have the company net codes, right? Good. Just follow me until I tell you otherwise, and hopefully this fight’ll be the hardest thing we have to do tonight. We’ll be heading northeast in column formation, make sure we have all angles covered, we don’t know where any stragglers might be encountered from. Let’s move!”

-----

“What’s going on, gentlemen?” you asked over the company network as soon as everybody was moving again, looking through the cupola periscope ahead and seeing quite a bit of smoke…everywhere. Dense, white cover smoke at that. “Seems like things are busy.”

“The enemy has-“ Fischer started, but Covacs cut him off after a few words.

“-The enemy’s on the move. Not for us. As far as we can tell, they’re trying to swarm the bridge and force a crossing. An artillery smoke barrage came down on the side of the bridge where the Duke is, it seems. We must be considered a secondary threat with the effort they’re putting into this…or we’ve managed to perfectly spoil this plan ahead of time.”

Wouldn’t that have been nice. You brought out your binoculars to look the distance to the bridge, what little would be clear this far away, when suddenly the night was torn apart by a flood of gun and cannon fire. “That you boys?” you asked, thumb on the button of your throat microphone.

“Negative.” Covacs answered, “It’s coming from the bridge and across it.”

“If I may interject after you so rudely interrupted me,” Fischer said testily.

“Ten words or less.”

“Can it, Covacs,” you said, “Fischer, what is it?”

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“If our mission is merely to meet with the Duke," Fischer said, "then I must inform you, my unit spied a smaller bridge to the north. There would be no road nor link established between the Duke’s forces and our own, but I fear that casualties taken in this combat were we to hold to our original course would be…unnecessary.”

“I’m sure the Duke would appreciate that we purposely avoided helping his troops,” Covacs said severely.

“I hold no objections to charging forth. I only present an alternate option, should the Captain wish to take it,” Fischer said defensively, “If we are to charge the bridge, then by all means I shall lead the attack myself. I simply wished to present the option.”

“You’re there and I’m not,” you continued, “Say I want you people to attack the bridge and help out the Duke’s people. What are our options?”

“There’s heavy smoke cover we laid down earlier,” Covacs said, “It would be a simple matter to loop back around and use that. We’re on the west side of it right now, moving around it, but we can move back and exploit the cover to try and hit this attack from the north. The other way we could do it is to just go forward from where we are and start shooting at whatever we can see from combat range. We’d avoid close quarters battle that way, but I doubt it would blunt the offensive much unless we mixed ourselves in there and shocked the enemy properly.

>Fischer is right, we’ll have to minimize casualties.
>Use the smoke cover from earlier, then. We’ll hit them from where they won’t see us coming, and in the rear. That way we can cut off the bridge attack from the weakest angle.
>We should keep this safe. The enemy doesn’t have too much in the way of armor, yes? We should exploit our range advantage and support the Duke’s defenders from our side of the river, and see how it goes.
>We don’t have the time and I doubt the Duke’s men there have the numbers to hold off what you’re reporting the enemy numbers are. We need to his them fast, and as hard as we can. Prepare to break through to the bridge.
>Other?

>>2916387
>>Use the smoke cover from earlier, then. We’ll hit them from where they won’t see us coming, and in the rear. That way we can cut off the bridge attack from the weakest angle

>>2916387
>Use the smoke cover from earlier, then. We’ll hit them from where they won’t see us coming, and in the rear. That way we can cut off the bridge attack from the weakest angle.

Has the benefit of slowing their charge. Or if they really don't see this coming ,potentially destroying them on the bridge, or the bridge itself. Especially if there is another crossing.

>>2916387
>>Use the smoke cover from earlier, then. We’ll hit them from where they won’t see us coming, and in the rear. That way we can cut off the bridge attack from the weakest angle.

Use the smoke to cover a movement to make a dynamic entry right on the point of attack.

Writing.

“Let’s go with the former one, Covacs,” you said, “Fischer, you’re northmost, right? Go ahead and lead everybody back around. Skirt the edge of the smoke until you hit the end of it, then cut down. If we’re lucky, we can hit them while they’re still crossing. Don’t bother waiting for me and second platoon, we’ll catch up. Keep me posted on how it goes. Got it?” The answers came, save for from the sole (new) platoon commander who was not part of the plan. “Good. Get it!” In the meantime, as you advanced towards the farm, you signaled to the platoon behind you to overtake you as you had your driver slow down and stop to pick up Owl 3. It would have been much more convenient for your tank to be large enough to stuff her in, but…alas. Maybe once you’d expended more ammunition you could cram her into a cranny. She was certainly skinny enough, not that you minded a slim tuckus. So long as it wasn’t boney.

Speaking of which, though you expected Winnifred to be spiteful about you punctuating her stay on your tank with a spank, she said nothing as she climbed back aboard and propped herself on the open turret hatch edge, presumably expecting (correctly) her eventual disembarkation and trading shelter for ease of egress. She still wore your jacket, of course; probably a good thing since its dark leather tolerated dirt better than her white blouse likely did. “You seem relieved,” she commented after the tank began to crawl forward again.

“Funny how you can tell. Do I wear that much of myself on my face?”

“I’ve learned to see how much lies in little things.”

“Oh yeah?” you pressed, since the company net wasn’t demanding your attention, “How so?”

“Should you not be looking carefully for enemies? I myself saw some while waiting.”

“I know how to do my job, honey.” You retorted to that criticism, “Do I get an answer to my question?”

Winnifred considered for a moment, the wind whipping her long, wavy hair about. “I was forced to beg on the streets for a period of my life. Most don’t like to be approached for such, but I suppose I was at least more fortunate than most in such endeavors, since I was a young girl. That was also a curse in some circles, however. Being weaker, less experienced.” She allowed another space in what she was saying, the sounds of battle growing closer, the tank grumbling louder, so she had to increase her volume of speech when she finally said, “The lessons I learned have made me a very capable agent, of course.”

“Heck,” you sighed sympathetically, “Most girls I hear that sort of story from really need a hug.”

Winnifred said nothing.

“Captain.” The grim sound of Sergeant Schneider’s voice buzzed in your ears. “Enemy foot contact to our five o’clock, far.”

“Don’t worry about them.” You said dismissively, “Infantry aren’t our concern. If you see any vehicles, wheels or treads, bring them up. Otherwise they only matter if they’re in the way or close.”

“Affirmative, sir.”

As you crossed over the farms for the third time that night, you saw Owl 3 looking skyward. “What’re you looking at, sweet cheeks?” you asked.

“A plane.” Winnifred pointed up. You squinted, but it was too far away to be clear. “It has been circling for some time now.”

“Think the Revolutionaries will be sending up anybody to come after it? They have the airfield, after all. Maybe the planes that were on it too?”

“Hm.” Winnifred seemed to wonder. “I don’t know. There was no indication in our investigations that the enemy would bring in any pilots, especially not if they are depending on captured equipment.”

“I think I saw some captured equipment, yeah,” you thought back to the Revolutionary-commandeered armored police car, and what appeared to be Halmeggian army tanks, considering that their color scheme was different save for the identifying red and gold bars. “Couldn’t they smuggle in planes if they could get tanks in, though?”

“A plane has to operate from a suitable airfield, no?” Winnifred pointed out, “And I do not intend to besmirch your skills, but I presume it’s much easier to operate a ground vehicle of any sort than it is a plane. The required knowledge is much more common.”

“Nah, you’re right,” you smiled, but took the opportunity to brag. “I’m a pilot myself, see.” That comment usually spurred interest in you by female parties, but Winnifred, as usual, did not receive the subject in the same way.

“You are a pilot,” she mused, “Yet here you are commanding tanks on the ground. What sort of pilot are you?”

“Ah. Glider pilot.”

“Are those really proper pilots? Those are not powered craft.”

“I’ll be damned if they aren’t proper pilots.” You were used to that sort of comment, but it never failed to at least offend you a little. You testily rose back into the command cupola and gave the surroundings another scan. Flashes of cannon fire followed by booms blew over the land, like wind, echoing in the distance.

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“Hm.” Owl 3 thought for a bit more, seeming to care little for the sounds of battle beyond. Either she was a hardened sort, or as good at hiding her emotions as she was at reading them off of others. “Will I be being left somewhere this time?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, “Depending on how this goes, I might not be able to come back for you as cleanly as before. Considering that losing you would mean I lose my intelligence expert…I ain’t gonna give that a chance to happen. As long as you make yourself small and don’t get in the way, I promise you’ll be fine. Oh, and make sure you keep those hands firm over your ears, if it gets to that. Don’t stay close to any vehicles that are on fire or smoking, either. The stuff inside them likes to pop off.”

Winnifred heard that, but leaned back and looked inside the Luftpanzer nevertheless. It didn’t take long for her to conclude that, no, there was no real space for her to try and wriggle into.

“Captain,” Fischer’s voice suddenly appeared, “We are ready to execute the attack. On your mark.”

“Don’t wait for me. Stay in your lanes, trust the other platoon. Line formation, hit them with all you got at once, go, go go!” you ordered, stabbing your finger despite the person you were talking to being nowhere near to see it.

>The two platoons will conduct their assault right into the thick of things, and will have a free attack round as they come out of the smoke. They’ll get a free round of attack rolls; an infantry platoon sized target can take ten hits (roughly one per fireteam, though with wiggle room), an armor one eight, save for the Luftpanzers which take ten (each two hits is a tank, naturally).
>A heavy gun vehicle (Like the “Ein” Luftpanzers) takes off two hits from an infantry target with a hit, and a heavy antitank capability (not seen yet, but would be a medium antitank gun or a heavy anti-aircraft gun) takes two off of armor. Infantry without antitank weapons cannot destroy tanks unless they are in close combat, but they can “button” them to reduce their chance to hit. Similar action can be taken by tanks against tanks with armor too heavy to penetrate from the angle/range they are attacking from.
>This is still being hammered out and really experimental; there will likely be changes, especially once I proper get the new combat system out.

>Anyways, I need two sets of 3d100, and two of 2d100, for 1st platoon’s and 2nd platoon’s light and heavy tank sections respectively. They’ll fire, of course, at the most suitable targets for them, unless you specifically direct all to try for anti-armor or anti-infantry duty. DC rolls for your boys will be roll under DC50.

>>2917157
>DC50

Scratch last, it'll be DC60. For now.

Rolled 31, 43, 27 = 101 (3d100)

>>2917157
>DC60

The Judge is merciful.

Rolled 43, 28, 80 = 151 (3d100)

>>2917157

Rolled 87, 83 = 170 (2d100)

>>2917157

Rolled 32, 57 = 89 (2d100)

>>2917157

>1st Light: Hit, Hit, Hit
>1st Heavy: Miss, Miss
>3rd Light: Hit, Hit, Miss
>3rd Heavy: Hit, Hit

It seems the last minute change was unnecessary, but alas, it'll stay that way. I don't think a coin flip is a proper match for elite troops.

Anyways I'll get to work.

Rolled 70, 24, 37, 34, 21, 56, 70, 2, 70, 43, 11, 47, 25, 40, 28, 14, 13, 75, 49, 19, 50, 19, 69, 14, 1 = 901 (25d100)

And then I fell over and died for the night instead of doing the update. Quality QM.

Anyways I'll actually be writing soon, after I eat. For now though, I need to take care of a clusterfuck of rolls. It's not for anything you'll actually be seeing directly, but I figure I should have the rolls themselves visible anyways.

We have 12d100 for the south attack, another 4 for the initial bridge attack for the RAGV, with the DC skill whatever being 30 for the first 8 and 40 for the rest. Countering them will be 7d100 of 35 and 2d100 of 50 for the Halmeggian Aristocrat goons.

25 dice. Needless to say this system will be undergoing refinement in the future because this is a fucking mess. Either that or I'll do this off site.

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No sooner had you given your order than you heard a ripple of fire ahead of you, like the volley fire of a battle line of old times.

“Their backs are turned,” Covacs reported quickly.

“They are fools, if they believe they can turn their backs on the Kaiser’s elite!” Fischer declared.

“No. They’re ignoring us to hit that bridge as much as they can,” Covacs countered. “Not going to give an update for every shot I take. Switching back to platoon.”

As one could expect, of course, though you’d been told enough. Would the enemy really just let you shoot them in the back? No, some delaying action at least would turn for you, even if they considered overwhelming the bridge to be of the utmost importance. It would be an extremely bloody assault, but perhaps for the Revolutionaries, the blood price was of no importance. What madness. The future they saw must have been an incredible one indeed for such unthinking sacrifice.

“Captain Roth-Vogel,” It was Sergeant Schneider once more. “Vehicle contact to the south, heading our way.” The armored cars from earlier, most likely. Were they headed for you deliberately or did you simply be in the place they had intended to move to? “Orders?”

>Let them come. Keep pushing forward, we need to add the weight of our attack to the rest of our people as soon as possible. The enemy’s not focused on them right now, but if they decide to change their minds, 1st and 3rd could be overwhelmed.
>Stay here and take them on, if they don’t come for you, then intercept them. I won’t treat this threat lightly.
>Leave them to me. You and 2nd platoon keep going, I can handle a pair of armored cars on my own.
>Other?

>>2918678
>>Leave them to me. You and 2nd platoon keep going, I can handle a pair of armored cars on my own.

>>2918678
>Leave them to me. You and 2nd platoon keep going, I can handle a pair of armored cars on my own.

>>2918678
>Leave them to me. You and 2nd platoon keep going, I can handle a pair of armored cars on my own.

>>2918678
>Leave them to me. You and 2nd platoon keep going, I can handle a pair of armored cars on my own.

Take on those cars by your lonesome, they're small fry.

Writing.

My computer has become a lot slower and crankier lately. It's been a good four or five years since I got it I think so this is probably a sign that it's about to bite the dust, but I hope not.

Sorry for the delay, going to delay a bit more I'm afraid, but I'll be right back in time to screw off for the evening.

Yeah, nah, sorry guys, but I won't be updating for a while it seems. I keep getting technical difficulties and I've only got a half hour til I have to be somewhere. Tonight's a wash, I hate to say.

So, update on the computer situation. I finally got sick of it (the performance was prohibitively slow and stuttering) so I've dropped my computer at the local geek squad. They've given me five business days before they're through looking at all my porn and run a basic diagnostic to either fix it or tell me to get a new computer.

So that's the bad news. The good news is that I have ready access to another computer. The bad news on that is that I don't have my files on that and it's the family computer, but...well, everything I really need in archives and in my head. I don't have the vehicle or character designs so if I try at those I'll likely fuck up, but, well, if you came here for drawing quality, I don't know what to tell you. Also the computer won't always be accessible, but again, if you came expecting timely updates, you expect too much from one such as me.

Of course, tonight's still whacked, but I should or shouldn't be back in business tomorrow. If not, I will of course say so.

>>2919897
No worries, ms paint stick figures are always welcome.

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“Leave those contacts to me,” you told Schneider, “I can handle a couple cars. You and second platoon keep pushing up, the rest of the company’ll need your help.”

“Roger that.” Schneider was convenient. He didn’t bite back like Covacs liked to, though you wondered if that was because he was disciplined and obedient, or because the sergeant perhaps leaned on his commanders too heavily…

“Lawrence,” you addressed your driver over the intercom, “Take us into the woods a bit, keep our lights off. Let’s look at this contact real well before we do anything.” Then, after the tank had gone into the woods, lights off (and coming stressfully close to bowling into a tree), you muttered to Owl 3, “Go and hide somewhere over there. Don’t talk to strangers.” As she left without a word, the only sound of her departure being the shuffling of brush, you raised your binoculars to your eyes and squinted in the direction the Sergeant had reported the contact.

Ah, there they were, though they were…difficult to see, even through binoculars, and they’d be hard to zero in on with the gun sights for sure as well. They had gone into woods themselves, and were taking their time moving; that they were moving was how you could see them in the first place. They didn’t appear to be heading for you; rather, they continued to appear to be heading for the rear of the attack, or perhaps maneuvering to cut off second platoon. Should you do something, you wondered…

>Draw those enemies away by making yourself a target. Turn your lights nice and bright, and see if they come in your direction. Shooting with this poor a shot would be a waste of time; let them come closer.
>Let them continue; observe them longer before coming to any conclusions.
>Open fire. It would be a poor shot, but it would at least be a first shot, and they probably wouldn’t be able to fire back until you got a few shots off at least, whereupon they would finally scope you out.
>Other?

I guess this might not be as troublesome as thought.

>>2921584
>>Draw those enemies away by making yourself a target. Turn your lights nice and bright, and see if they come in your direction. Shooting with this poor a shot would be a waste of time; let them come closer.
Rather than keep our lights permanently on flash them a bit and see if they bite.

>>2921584
>Move closer to cut them off and engage when we have a better shot. If we can barely see them even when stopped and looking through binoculars there's little chance they'll spot us through viewports while moving.

>>2921584
Seconding >>2921872

>>2921584
>Draw those enemies away by making yourself a target. Turn your lights nice and bright, and see if they come in your direction. Shooting with this poor a shot would be a waste of time; let them come closer.

>>2921872
this works

Alright I'm around now. If not feeling too great but that's beside the point. Probably should have rolled off last night, but...eh.

Advancing on the enemy and counting on them not to see while they're moved up on. Writing.

Rolled 98 (1d100)

So far as you could tell, the Revolutionary (assumed) armored cars didn’t seem to notice you; likely didn’t even know you were present in your current position, observing them. Nobody appeared to be accompanying said vehicles, nor looking outside of them; it was a reasonable assumption that you could get closer then, no? Especially if your current poor visibility was through binoculars. Granted, a moving tank was much, much more visible than a still one, but you could take this chance if it meant getting the first shot on a surprised enemy.

“Lawrence, take us forward, slow,” you said, hoping that low speed would keep the dust kickup down, “Creep us towards those woods up there until I say to stop. There’s a pair of armored cars I’m looking to intercept.”

Owl 3 would have to be left on her lonesome again, but she was hardly a fragile woman. Though with the unknown enemy forces to the north still potentially moving about…well, their most mobile capabilities had been damaged, so the chances of them looking for a fight rather than returning to rendezvous with friends was still low. One could argue the same for the scout you were now stalking, but they were also much more able to aid there fellows, and much more likely to have radios, if they were to do their battlefield role properly. The Revolutionary Army of Greater Vitelia tank you’d captured earlier had lacked a radio set, but that had also been an old tank, and from the look of things intended more to accompany the garrison. In all likelihood, these armored cars were in contact with the force attacking the bridge; who would be reporting how half an armor company just sprang out of the woods and hit them full in the rear.

So it was all a matter, in your opinion, if the enemy was desperate enough to try and call everybody to their position, what would respond to summons, at least. That gave you pause for thought, as you scratched behind your ear in contemplation, lifting your headset as you did so. Fischer hadn’t reported significant enemy presence to the north of their current operation, at least not anything that drew attention. With your company attacking from the north partially, the enemy’s potential escape north was cut off. Obviously, they expected to take the bridge and link up with their allies across the bridge, but if the Halmeggians held the bridge…should you allow a space for the enemy to retreat to? A cornered foe could be incredibly dangerous, after all. The Revolutionaries already fought with full faith of victory, you really didn’t want to learn how hard they would come after you if their bravado broke and they began to fight solely for their own survival.

Ah, but there was the enemy, as you spotted a hint of them moving in the darkness. Did they see you coming, or were they still focused on your troops..?

>Enemy roll: DC roll under 35 to detect you, degrees of success apply

Ah. You’d thought for a moment that the enemy might have turned towards you, the profile of the armored cars at this distance indicated such at a glance, but inspecting them through the gunsight told you immediately that their backs faced you. Perhaps…could you venture even closer? Or could their threat be waived with their current movements? They now seemed almost…uncertain. They were moving for a place between where you had been and where 2nd Platoon would be now.

You could speculate further, certainly, on what their intention was. Were they careful or incompetent? Was there a trick in their sleeve, did they have an unseen ally left behind in the woods where they had been? If you left the cars (after warning 2nd Platoon of them, of course) you could investigate, but at the same time that may not have been worth it. A large part of you wanted to shoot these cars in the rear and move right along.

>Too much thought, too little action. Range them in and take those cars down.
>Creep closer; the better you could make your first shot, the better this would go.
>Let them wander in the wrong direction. You could go investigate their trail, then go right along. There were more important matters than a pair of bumbling enemy scouts.
>Other?

>>2923796
>Too much thought, too little action. Range them in and take those cars down.

If these guys are out here tank hunting, then congratulations, you found one!

>>2923796
>Too much thought, too little action. Range them in and take those cars down.
We have to get back to company commanding eventually.

>>2923796
>>Too much thought, too little action. Range them in and take those cars down.

Less talk, more shoot!

Write/doodling. Hopefully I do this more quickly.

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Two armored cars, lined up in your sights. The closer one, you thought, seemed a better target, but it was also stationary. The one ahead was moving now; evidently, the two were bounding, overlapping each other’s positions in a careful dance. The still one would be the easier to hit, but it would also be the simpler one to switch to. Additionally, the further one was offset to you; it would be easier for it to engage you after you got off the first shot.

>Select your target, and where to shoot on it. Shooting at a moving target will increase (penalize) your deviation roll.
>Going to be heading off for a while too. Sorry bout that.

>>2924806
Shoot the moving one

>>2924806
Shoot the stationary one through the back of the turret. The moving one will have to stop to locate and engage us anyway. No need to risk missing against a moving target.

>>2924806
Shoot the stationary car

>>2924806
Stationary. Missing would be worse than reacquiring.

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Shoot the still one. Aight.

Give me a 2d2 and up to three 2d100, averaged.

>>2925373
Forgot to say, DC is 60 for no deviation as has been usual.

Rolled 1, 1 = 2 (2d2)

>>2925373

Rolled 47, 50 = 97 (2d100)

>>2925373
roll the woodpile down

Rolled 55, 3 = 58 (2d100)

>>2925373

Rolled 99, 28 = 127 (2d100)

>>2925373

>>2925508
oof

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Your shot went a tad high of where you thought it would go, but when the gunsights swayed back down from the hefty kick of the gun into the Luftpanzer’s turret, you spied the impact and then heard the sharp clang of steel striking steel. A bright flower of sparks and a muffled pop happened immediately afterwards, and you spotted smoke pouring out of the hole you’d put in the armored car’s turret. You had no doubt that whoever had been crewing that turret was no longer among the living, their life snuffed out without them even seeing it coming. Unfair, perhaps, but was this opponent really worth dignifying with any attempts at making things a personal contest rather than the war it was? Of course not.

“Another shot,” you said to your loader as you cranked on the manual traverse; leaning back into the power traverse would make you lose sight of your next target, and with your eye on how they were behaving now, you wouldn’t want to do that. They had turned roughly perpendicular to you, and their speed had increased. Were they attempting to flee, or to turn about on you? Your initial target was out of commission, so nothing was stopping you from taking a shot at this next opponent, but if the enemy was running away now, would you have to chase them down? That would be a pain in the ass; especially considering the battle progressing in your absence.

“Loaded,” Jalsen said shortly as the gun clacked closed. Just in time, you thought as you fervently turned the manual traverse to keep the gunsight over the car, whose speed was gradually increasing…

>State where on the target to shoot. Keep in mind that against a target moving at speed, your gunnery skill against it is reduced by 20, and horizontal deviation is doubled before reduction, so it may be a good idea to lead the target!

>>2927101
Aim for the front tire of the fleeing armored car. If we don’t lead the target enough, hopefully it catches the backside or rear tire.

>>2927106
Supporting

Gunning for front tire.

1 roll of 2d2, up to 3 of 2d100, averaged. Gunnery skill's at 40 so that's what deviation will be reduced by, after the average rolled on is doubled due to moving target.

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>>2927129
Forgot pic for precise position.

Rolled 2, 1 = 3 (2d2)

>>2927129

Rolled 100, 38 = 138 (2d100)

>>2927129

Rolled 78, 22 = 100 (2d100)

>>2927129

Rolled 97, 32 = 129 (2d100)

>>2927129

Total deviation of 140 to the left.
...Huh. Well, writing, then.

You knew to lead a moving target; firing directly at a target in motion only resulted in the shot neatly going where the target used to be, so after tentatively measuring the armored car’s speed, you made a healthy guess at where it would be in just moments, and fired.

Nothing. The car didn’t even pass into the gunsights, as the shot flew forward and into the dirt some hundred meters ahead. Baffled, you rose into the command cupola, and saw that the armored car had swung wide, moving in a direction completely away from you, before resuming their prior course. Evasive maneuvering; how uncharacteristic of this bunch. The case of the past shot clanged onto the floor as Jalsen extracted it and prepared the next shot, but you were transfixed on where this car was going. Was it fleeing, and if so, should you pursue it? At this rate, as it was heading for more cover, a second shot at it would likely be the last chance you got at it. Should you pursue, you wondered, or let it go? Perhaps set up overwatch in the woods ahead while you investigated the car you took down?

>They weren’t going to get away. The fate of that armored car was to be a tally on your record, and they couldn’t flee fast enough to escape that. Pursue them at speed so they couldn’t give you the slip.
>Let them flee. They weren’t likely to return to a fight all by their lonesome; that would be ill advised. Let them go, and investigate the wreck you’d just made of their partner.
>They were on their way, and so would be you, in time. Though not without one more shot, and another shot to finish off the stunned partner that you’d bagged.
>Other?

>>2927193
>>Let them flee. They weren’t likely to return to a fight all by their lonesome; that would be ill advised. Let them go, and investigate the wreck you’d just made of their partner.

Aight, going to write to let them go and check out the people you shot. They don't seem like they want much more, do they?

A careful eye was kept on the fleeing enemy, making sure they weren’t about to turn about and make a counterattack, until you decided they weren’t sticking around.

“Lawrence, forward fast,” you said, “Pull us up so that the car ahead is between that fella running off and us, in case they decide they’re going to continue this fight. I’ll keep an eye on them. If you see the guy we’re heading towards wake up and start turning the turret or anything, stop, and I’ll get the idea.”

The Revolutionary scout continued to flee. It was understandable, really; you’d do the same, though you would have curved around to hide behind the near copse of trees instead of going the long way towards the village. They had no way of knowing how many of you there were, and once the fight was one on one and they lacked the initiative, staying would not be wise, even if it was more valiant. Alas, they fled regardless, and you watched them the whole time as they grew smaller in the distance, until your driver announced in his stilted Imperial that you had arrived at your temporary goal. You’d been too distracted now to check up on your company; the battle was still raging as lustily as before, if not moreso, and the distinctive blasts of Luftpanzer II “Ein” mortar-cannons still boomed in the night. How far was 2nd Platoon under Schneider now, you wondered as you disembarked the vehicle.

“Stay here and pointed west,” you told Jalsen, “Those guys poke their heads back again, give them a good shot. Just make sure to shout first, alright? I’d like to keep what’s left of my hearing.” You’d stood too close to a Luftpanzer cannon once when it fired off once, when training on tanks; never again. The Luftpanzer II “Fuchs” cannon had a muzzle brake that, while helpful in reducing recoil on the tank’s small frame, made its report noticeably louder and sharper than the initial test models had, so your caution was doubled concerning the new models that you commanded.

A cursory patrol around the armored car told you little; nobody appeared to disembark. The smell of cordite and fire told you that, as the flash from afar had indicated, there had been an ammunition explosion in the turret. Usually such would be forceful enough to tear the turret off of the car and send it flying, frying everybody inside, but such had not happened here. Whether it was because of a scarcity of ammunition or sheer luck was unclear, though you did know for certain that you weren’t about to pry open the back doors, in case there was still any ammunition that had delayed exploding. The front, in the meanwhile, should have been intact, and would likely be where any surviving, if stunned, crew would remain for interrogation.

You tested the door. Unlocked? Hm. How odd, you thought as you unholstered your sidearm.

Instead of standing before it and opening the door like a fool, you stood off to the side and flung the steel armored door open with a heavy pull. Pak! Pak! Pak! Pak! Immediately, just as you expected, somebody inside shot out of the door with a quick succession of shots. Fast enough that you weren’t sure if you would have been hit even if you had remained in your initial position.

You kept your back against the car and your pistol at the ready as you called out, “None of that, now!” in passable Vitelian, “Get out here and give up!”

“Piss off!” The response was, surprisingly, in nearly unaccented Imperial. It was also shrill, and light; feminine. Suddenly, you were uneasy. Did the Revolutionaries have female fighters? You…didn’t particularly want to kill a girl. The other side of you did- it wanted to do quite ugly things indeed, out of hatred and rage, but it was not in control now. You were.

>”If you’d rather not come out, that’s fine. We can just set this thing on fire.”
>Force the issue. Shut that door and go around the back; with a rock. Anybody inside would presume you had thrown in a grenade, and they’d hopefully abandon the car, where you could ambush them.
>Try to negotiate further; you couldn’t blame them for being angry at you, but you’d much rather they surrender than stain your hands with the blood of a woman.
>Other?

>>2927543
>Try to negotiate further; you couldn’t blame them for being angry at you, but you’d much rather they surrender than stain your hands with the blood of a woman.

“I would rather not have to have another round put through this car. Your friends have ran off and I’m of the mind to let you go after them, if you could answer a couple of questions to my satisfaction.”

>>2927543
>>”If you’d rather not come out, that’s fine. We can just set this thing on fire.”

Whoops, sounds like we accidentally crossed into the Girls und Panzer universe and turned this one's gunner into meaty chunks. Awkward.

>>2927543
>”If you’d rather not come out, that’s fine. We can just set this thing on fire.”

Get them to surrender or put another shot into it.
They won't be amenable to questions until they are disarmed or dead.

>>2927543
>>”If you’d rather not come out, that’s fine. We can just set this thing on fire.”

Invitation to the Revolutionary Barbecue, it's not cannibalism, it's just eastern cooking.

Writing.

“If you’d rather not come out,” you said, switching comfortably back to Imperial, “That’s fine. We can just set this thing on fire.” You allowed a few seconds for a response, but were greeted with silence. “Fire it is!” you clapped your hand together before grabbing the door and slamming it shut. “If you change your mind,” you shouted as you passed back by, “Lie down on the ground once you get out, or I’ll have my men shoot you dead.”

You’d rather not have to do that, of course. The thought of killing a woman was…extremely distasteful for you to think about. You’d certainly heard of them being irregular troops, often in times of desperation or in civil wars, but you’d never actually expected to fight any. Was it out of kindness that you felt that way, or were you being patronizing? Did anybody really care?

Climbing up on back of your Luftpanzer, you opened up the turret storage box and pulled a fuel canister out, sloshing it about in your hands before jumping back down and returning to the armored car. Whistling to yourself some jazzy song that you heard in a club and could never get out of your head since, you clambered atop the armored car and poured a steady (if small; you weren’t about to waste too much fuel) stream of gasoline over the top, making sure to splash some over the vision ports, so the stink of it would travel inside.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come out?” you asked gaily, “If we didn’t want to give you a chance we could have just shot this thing through.”

“…Wait!” the female voice inside shouted. It was scratchy, and rough sounding. “You said…if I get out, and lie down on the ground…”

“Throw your guns out first,” you said, “Anybody else coming out? One at a time, if so.”

“…No. It’s only me.”

“Don’t you lie to me. I’ll shoot anybody left if you are.”

“I’m not!” the voice yelped angrily, “You, you horrid slave of the nobles! You’re the reason this country has no future!”

“Lecture me all you want, dear,” you tapped a foot on the top of the armored car, “But get out first, or I might accidentally cook you while I light up my smoke here.”

“…Fine!” With that, the side of the armored car opened up; not the driver’s side, you noted, and an old revolver was tossed out; good and far away. You turned your torch on so you could get a good look at whatever else came out. A pair of small hands appeared, to show you they were empty, before you saw the lady herself slip out and lie on the ground. She didn’t much look like a Revolutionary Army soldier; she lacked the dull olive uniform, instead garbed in black trousers and a long sleeved, loose sweater, though a red and yellow armband showed where her allegiance lay. Her light brown hair was short looking, the back done up in a short braid while the flanks went wild.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You jumped down beside her, and pointed your torch and flashlight into the car, in case she had been lying; she had not been. The driver was slumped forward, and you couldn’t tell what had killed him, but he was definitely dead; maybe a fragment from the internal explosion earlier had done the deed. “I’m sorry I had to kill your friends,” you said. Though you might have sounded like a complete asshole, your apology was at least half genuine. “Though I think we can call it fair when you lot would have done the same to me, no?”

“What…what sort of monster are you, to be so flippant…” the woman said, between heavy breaths. She had turned her head to look at you, and in the light of the moon and stars you could see the trail of tears down her cheek.

“Dear, I might be a murderer, but I do have a heart,” you squatted down by her, your pistol put away. It wasn’t that she didn’t seem a threat; she seemed more fit in body and shapely than Owl 3 was, almost certainly a fighter, but shoving a gun in a woman’s face wasn’t your style. “So, your friends ran off. I could chase them down, but let’s have an agreement, shall we? You answer a few of my questions, and I’ll let them go.” The woman looked furiously up at you; you were tempted to shine your torch in her face to see what color her eyes were.

Checking out your enemy? Part of you said, deep down, yet still yearning for the chance to rise. If you need to look for how pretty she is, take her into those trees and have your way with her. These people deserve no mercy. There’s no such thing as an undeserved crime towards them. Nobody will question you, even if you shot her after you were done. In the space where the revolutionary woman was considering your offer, you troublingly humored that possibility; would it calm that angry panther pacing around in the pit of your soul to do that? Not to shoot her, of course, but…

“Fine.” The woman said, her voice choked, “What do you want. I don’t know much, so there. The others did, but…I suppose it’s good that they can’t be coerced like this.” You noted that she called them the othersinstead of friends, or comrades. Perhaps she wasn’t as deep in as one thought. Maybe the thirst for blood was misdirected, though you could still feel the beast clawing at the sides of the hole, trying to climb up, to unleash its fury.

>Ask what questions you want to know.
Also
>Let her go after. She won’t be of any harm.
>Capture her. Tie her up and have her ride on your tank, you’ll probably think of more uses for her later.
>Let the beast consume you, for a short time. What if you stopped being able to control it?
>Other?

Reinhold is very averse to harming women, in case you haven't noticed. Unless you let his hatred for the Revolutionaries take over, he won't do anything like shooting her or similar methods of disposal.

>>2928429
Ask her what she knows about us, our strength, affiliation, or objectives. Also ask what she knows about the attack on the duke or what any other Revolutionaty units are doing in the area, if anything.

We could also ask if she can give us any info on the likelihood of surrender for most revolters. Are they going to fight to the death, or will they give up if pressed too hard.

I would say to get rid of her we just tie her hands behind her back, point out some directions like where our lines are, where we saw the guys on the hill, and let her walk off where she chooses.

>>2928429

>>2928693
More or less this, but I say we hang on to her until we're back to Owl 3 and let her ask a few questions in case there's anything she might think to ask that we're forgetting in our battle-rapey daze, also, when we're done with her, cut that armband off of her, keep her hands bound and send her off on her way in the direction of the police and townsfolk. If she makes it, hopefully they'll look after her so long as she keeps her revolutionary yap shut, if not, eeeeeeh, who cares?

No portrait? No waifu armour.

>>2928693
>>2928961
Supporting both suggestions

Ask her questions, take her to Lady Von Lowenkreuz, and then send her home.

Writing.

“So first off,” you pointed to yourself, “Do you know who I am? Who I’m with?”

The young woman blinked at you, before grimacing in disgust. “…I don’t know. You don’t look like anybody I’ve been told about. You’re coming from the place we know Imperials were supposed to be, but your uniform…”

“I dress against regulation. Don’t tell anybody.” So Luftpanzer crew uniforms were still rather unknown; she did at least know that it was the Reich attacking them. You supposed allies of the Halmeggian Regime were extrapolated to “slaves of the nobility” no matter if they were Halmeggian or not. “So tell me a bit more. Why are we Reich dogs here? Did we just drop out of the sky to rain on your parade?”

The revolutionary continued to glare. “…I don’t know. Why would I know that? You’re here, and we had to defeat you. That’s it. If I were to guess, you’re working with the Duke Di Vitelstadt, to help impose a new reign of terror by the aristocracy over the common folk.”

Wrong. “Close enough,” you lied, “Speaking of the Duke,” you pointed off towards the bridge, a huge blast punctuating your gesture, “That’s your people really bringing it to the Duke’s men, right? Anything I should know about that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the revolutionary scoffed. By now, it was rather clear that she was a native Halmeggian, from the way her Imperial sounded. “The Duke is trying to push south and drive us out of these territories. We’re attacking to retake that bridge and the connection between this side of the river and other, since your people took the other close bridge. If we retreated north, we’d be leaving the people on the other side behind and isolating them.”

“That’s what your people are doing, then. How about anybody else?”

“How the hell should I know?”

The young woman was being forthcoming with information, in spite of her rudeness. You wondered if she was a recent convert, or a conscript; such would explain how she hadn’t clamped up. “So, question for you about your friends. How devoted are you towards the cause? If the going got too rough, would you surrender, or fight to the death like real pains in the ass?”

“The cause of Greater Vitelia is worth every drop of blood that has to be shed to see it become a reality,” the woman spat. “And if hmmrphh-“

"Yeah yeah, spare me the pitch,” you cut the woman off, clamping your hand over her mouth, “You’re here right now, yeah? So cut the crap. I’ve already seen some of your bunch surrender, so you don’t need to spout the lines of whoever your leader is.” Said person who had surrendered had been a local militiaman. You got the impression that, while the Vitelians who had infiltrated were rather resistant to the idea of giving up, Halmeggian followers of the cause would be less dedicated.

Of course, your subject’s will faltered, after her initial anger at you covering her mouth. When you let your hand fall, she shifted uncomfortably, and muttered, “I guess not everybody wants to die. It’s just that…anything would be better than the alternative happening.”

“Which is?”

“That the Duke and the Aristocrats will dominate the country. This is all their fault, you know. They hated that the Parliament replaced them, that the vote of the common man held more power than they did, so they’ve taken the chance to stir up trouble! You should be helping us, if you really care about Halmeggia!”

Conflicting information once again, but certainly not from a source you could trust on who was the more moral actor. It wasn’t particularly relevant anyways; helping the Duke was a matter of your convenience in order to rescue the Royal Family. Your orders were specifically to extract said Royal Family to the Reich, and nothing more.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to know then,” you said, withdrawing a length of cord from your pocket, “Turn around, and stand up.”

“…You’re not letting me go?”

“Not yet.” You quickly bound up the girl’s wrists, after adjusting their position so it was as difficult as possible to wriggle out. You held her by her wrists as she stood on her feet unsteadily. “Alright, turn back around. I’m going to frisk you.”

Without warning, you shoved a hand up her sweater. She tried to jump back with a yelp, but you held her by her shoulder.

“W-what the hell are you doing!? Beast! Animal! Stop that right now!”

“I’m searching you,” you explained again, as you searched around in her bra.

“I’ll scream!”

“I’ll gag you.” You switched to her other breast, and found something. You pulled it out and waved the small folding knife in her face. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. Be thankful I’m not making you strip naked.” You tossed the knife behind you. “By the way, you’re good and healthy. I didn’t feel any lumps.”

“Bastard..!” the girl said through gritted teeth, “Your sort always gets it in the e-yaaagh!” She yelped again as you thrust your hand down her pants, “No! No! Disgusting rapist!”

“Nothing there, huh.” You said with resignation, “Sorry about that. Awfully tidy though, aren’t you? Woah!” you exclaimed the last bit as she tried to kick you in the shin, and you tripped her as you passed forward, knocking her face into the dirt again. “That wasn’t a good idea, you know.”

“Captured as a prisoner, interrogated, and molested by an imperial dog…” the woman said bitterly, “I wish I were dead!”

“Cool down,” you said as you knelt on her back and arms and patted down her legs before pulling off her shoes, “You shouldn’t be fighting. You’ve still got a chance to go somewhere else and let all this shit pass over, instead of getting mixed up in the thick of it for a bunch of moronic revolutionaries. From what I hear, they couldn’t give less of a damn about your welfare.”

“What do you know?” the woman snarled, “You think I’m such a fool that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“You clearly are, and don’t.”

“Bastard!”

“Alright,” you said as you finished your investigation by feeling around her sleeves, “Back up with you. You’re riding on my tank for a bit, and somebody else is going to ask you questions. You’re free to go after that.”

“Why would I believe somebody as horrible as you?” the woman protested, her hair bouncing as she jumped up, “I’ll leap off the tank and run!”

“I’ll tie you to the tank, so that would be a pretty terrible idea.”

The revolutionary woman fell silent, and grumbled to herself as you led her off, and tied her to the top of the tank. Loosely, so she could still sit down, but if she tried to jump off, she would be roughly dragged behind the tank. Oh, but it wouldn’t do for her to fall off either, you thought. You should tell Lawrence to drive gently.

“Hey,” you called out to Owl 3 after you arrived; the revolutionary girl was looking rather wide eyed and frazzled. There were some commands that Lawrence liked to pretend he couldn’t understand. “I have a prisoner, if you want to ask them any questions.”

Owl 3 stood up, and paced towards the tank as you untied your prisoner, picked her up, and jumped down with her. Once she was on the ground, she wobbled from side to side, seeming to be endlessly thankful to be back on the ground.

“What was she?” Owl 3 asked, not seeming surprised by the gender of the prisoner. “Where did you find her?”

“In the armored car. Opposite the driver’s side.”

“A radio operator,” Winnifred mused, before looking to the prisoner, “Your frequencies and codes. Reveal them.”

“What?” the prisoner asked, “N-no! That would…that would doom everything! I won’t-“

Winnifred’s face remained calm (if dour) as a serene pool, as she turned the girl roughly around by her shoulder, and a thin knife appeared in her hand from out of her sleeve. With a single movement, Owl 3 listed the knife up to the prisoner’s eye and put its tip in the corner. “Talk.” she said icily. Then, to you. “Captain. You may have to hold her down for this.”

“I can’t!” the girl protested, “I-I don’t know that much anyways, but if part of their communications were broken and I came back alone…they’ll kill me!”

“If you do not speak,” Owl 3’s voice remained cool, “I will torture you, and then kill you. Speak, and you may yet live.”

>Pull Winnifred off. You aren’t going to watch a woman be tortured. Nor let a gal do something so cruel.
>Let them both be, if this was how it was going to go. You had a battle to attend to, and you didn’t want to watch this happen.
>Offer a deal; she would not have to share anything she didn’t want to, but she would have to remain your prisoner, or you would tell the enemy that she had ratted on them.
>Other?

>>2930757
>>Let them both be, if this was how it was going to go. You had a battle to attend to, and you didn’t want to watch this happen.
Let them have some girl time

>>2930757
>Let them both be, if this was how it was going to go. You had a battle to attend to, and you didn’t want to watch this happen.

Winnifred knows what she’s doing.