In Service to the Imperium (IC thread)

[Armageddon Steel Legion]

"Of course, Herr." She stood up and saluted him before nodding to him and then Victoria, before Alexis then licked her lips and spoke, once more to her superiors."Now, if I have permission, I shall leave and get my defensive's ready." Outside the tent, the Vhermactians had began to play a marching song famous to Vherma, the only time when one was allowed to shed tears. The song was called. O toten. Or to be translated into low Gothic, "O'Death." The Vhermactians began to hum and chant as they began to man the trenches, at the north.


Ice cold hands grabbed their las-guns as they aimed down, the Tiger Leman Russ's had been dug their own little trenches, where they sat and waited for the enemy. Private Vhermactian model 134*34343 or Gunth as he was called, walked down the trench, patting and giving everyone advice in their sombre moods as they waited for the enemy attack.

[Legital]

As the command meeting came to a close, Hess glanced at Cain to make sure he had everything written down that was supposed to be. The bearded man gave an assuring nod, and as the Colonel finished his orders, Hess quietly pushed his chair back and stood up, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Colonel, if you would pardon me, I should be getting my men ready. I'll contact you when I am in position." Hess explained, giving a nod to the Colonel. "I will see you all on the field. The Emperor protects." With that, Hess and the two other Higarans quietly excused themselves from the tent. Hess was the first to the tent flap, and on instinct, he held it open for his second and his Commissar to pass through, before he followed out last.

Hess glanced up at the night sky, the stars a beautiful sight in the desert. He scanned the sky, and never did spot any naval ships, but he knew they were up there somewhere. He could not help but smile. He always loved the night. In fact, many Higarans did. Night was when most festivals were held and when communions for the Imperial Creed were held. Hess theorized that it was all down to the fact that nights on Higara were always a little longer than the days. It was the only explanation he could think of.
And while he was lost in thought, the cold air finally manifested itself in full for him, and that was when he noticed he could see his breath. The cold began to nip at hip through his cotton wrap jacket, and he wrapped his arms around himself to keep himself warm. Hess glanced at Cain, who was doing so as well, and Amsel, who was buttoning up his Commissar storm coat.
As they walked through the tents and prefabricated Guard structures, Cain elbowed Amsel lightly and spoke up. "You're a pretty lucky fellow to get a nice coat, you know. Me 'en Hess here are freezing our socks off. Throne, I feel bad for those footsloggers tonight." The man said with a smile, however, Amsel had a stern look on his face. Cain frowned, and tilted his head to the side. "C'mon, Felix, you ain't still mad about earlier? That bitch will get whats coming to her eventually." Amsel said nothing for a moment before shrugging. "Its not her, Captain, its the way Commissar Merrick handled it. No disciplinary action. Quite disrespectful." Hess thought for a moment before then speaking up himself.

"Well. I don't think it will happen again, Amsel. This close before a battle, it probably would not be for the best to summary execute a company commander now. However I agree, it was wholly disrespectful. To the Commissariat, to you as an upholder of it, and to the Emperor and His Guard." Amsel nodded, his hands stuffed into his coats pockets for warmth. "You're very right, Major. It still nags at me though." He then shrugged. "Best let the past go. But I will be keeping an eye on her and her commissar. I don't want them undermining this regiment." Hess and Cain both agreed as they continued through the cold night towards the rest of their company billeted on the far side of the fort.

---

The phonograph was a beautiful thing. It was finely crafted, its box hard wood, and an Imperial Aquila proudly displayed itself on the side. The horn was finely modeled, crafted with a shining black metal. The phonograph was not one made by the Imperial Guard, if such did exist, however it was one owned by a proud Higaran. Not many of the machines were in the regiment, so they were highly sought after and protected. This particular one was well taken care of, and a record was in place. The man activated the turntable, and light static erupted for a moment, before the music began to play quietly. Savens could not help but smile. It had been a while since he last heard music.

The music drifted around the Higaran prefabricated barrack, and it filled the night air outside of the barrack as well, as the front door was open. Several Higarans gathered near the phonograph, listening to the music, some chatting idly. All were happy to have some relaxation time after the battle and deployment, no matter how short.
The bunk beds were made of a flimsy metal, but they would hold most Higarans theorized. No clerks have been around to administer any blankets or a pillow, however the bare mattresses were there. Some men reclined on them, others caught a quick nap.
In the middle of the barracks, there was a small area were there were some circular tables, and Wulfe, Gregor, and Jameson were playing a game of cards. No gambling of course, but a fine bottle of whiskey was at stake. Gregor had a fat cigar in his mouth as he stared at his cards, peeking up at Wulfe or the young Jameson. A grin beset his mouth as he laid out his cards, and Wulfe scoffed. "What the frak is this?" He exclaimed, putting his cards on the table as well, obviously loosing to the man. Gregor chuckled, glancing at Jameson, who was grinning too. He put his cards down, and this time it was his turn to have a dubious expression on his face.

"I lost to the boy!" He said, and the men chuckled. Reed glanced up from his position on a bed next to the Higarans and glanced at his notebook. "Would you look at that. Jameson takes the lead with seven winnings. If I recall from the rules you set down, he won." He said, grinning. Jameson reached for the bottle of whiskey in the middle of the table, and proudly held it. Wulfe and Gregor pouted as the younger man won the reward.

By now, the record on the far side of the room had changed songs. However, the record only got a short ways in when Hess entered the barracks. Someone announced his arrival, and the men scrambled to get up. Someone shut off the phonograph.
"At ease boys, at ease now." Hess said, as he walked a little ways in, realizing it was as cold inside as it was outside. "The time has come again. Gather what you need and lock up what you have out. Get your tanks prepped and ready in thirty. Stay at station and await further orders. Questions?" He finished, all in a few lines. Someone from the back of the barracks called out. "Sir! The rebels are back at us again?" A quiet mumble filled the room, and Hess nodded. "That they are, so lets get a move on shall we?" The men moved into action, some quickly, others sluggishly.
Hess left the barracks back outside as he watched other Higarans leave the shelters and to ready up their vehicles for the coming night.

[Sub Sector Protractis]

Sergeant Mabus listened to the Colonel as he laid out the scheme of maneuver for the regiment, happy to see that the Cadian was proving to be a determined and level headed leader. The various company commanders excused themselves to ready their men for the coming storm. He the looked at the Colonel and asked a question " Colonel, I assume you do not need me to request support from my Brothers? If not I must inform my Cohort Centurion as soon as possible and return to orbit with my men. Also, Colonel should we not offer benediction to the Emperor before we depart? As we will need his blessing in the battle to come."

[Hamste]

"I'm ok with that. Though what about non-personal defenses that we could set up? Are we going to set up things that will slow down and kill the attackers? For example if we make deep hidden pits or even fill them with spikes and some of the rebels could die and slow down for fear of other pits or wood soaked in oil to give them a nasty flaming surprise when they get close. If we have bear traps that could mess with them pretty well. Also do we have any estimates on the number of Rebels that are preparing for an attack the base or are defending the place we are attacking?" Olov said smiling. Olov had always loved traps and odd tactics though he still wasn't sure who they were fighting or why.

[Aelosia]

Victoria Vanhayn was many things, but she was not a mutineer or a motley breakaway. She heard the words of the Colonel, and she realized she was the most trustworthy source of heavy firepower that the Colonel had. She and her girls. She quickly saluted bringing her arms crossed over her chest and clacking the heels of her boots together, producing a quite audible sound. "I'll be on my way, Sire, if I may. I'll have to dispose and trench my vehicles in a circle around the center of the camp. You have my channel if you need me". This was not the tactic Vanhayn wanted, but it was a sound tactic nevertheless. Full defense of the perimeter could get the imperial regiment less spectacular successes, but also attracted way less risks. After the exhibition of incompetence from earlier, perhaps caution was the best approach. Without air and armor superiority, Vanhayn was pretty sure that the rebels would suffer an outrageous number of casualties by crashing against the Guard's camp. In fact, she hoped they attacked with enough strength as to suffer them, unless they bounced from the trenches too soon before getting enough casualties.

She left the tent and went walking to her tank. She could not reprieve a small grimace of disgust after passing right next to the headless corpse lying in the entrance of it, although she was pretty sure someone will remove it soon. She walked with long, disciplined strides until she reached her tank, the vast machine like a mountain of plasteel in the midst of the anthill the camp had become. She looked around, and noticed a faint odor in the air. The odor of fine dices of grox meat stewed with parsley, onipula, and garlic, and the smell of mordiako mashed topapoes with thyme and chives. The company's cook was busy, as always. Corporal Brewer stood several steps away from Vanhayn's tank, her ladle as usual inside a big pot, moving its content in circles. Vanhayn particularly liked her cook. The youngest girls were sent to that platoon before they could manipulate levers or wheels, and moved into support personnel, and then to gunners after they advanced on their training, but Brewer had managed to be in charge of the kitchen for years. She was the worst gunner Vanhayn had tried to train, but also the best cook, and also a empathic ear and mouth. Not every hand was as able to others, but all served the Emperor on its own way.

The Major approached the huge pot lying in the back part of an old half-track truck, once used for ammo but that now formed the kitchen for the company. "Smells good", she said to the Corporal as she stood with her arms crossed in front of the cook.

The other girl turned, ladle in hand, with a soft red leather apron hiding her normal fatigues. "Tastes better, of course", she said smiling, repeating the answer to the formula that she had prepared with the Major. The chit-chat opening meant the Major had something important to say to her. "Want to try some?", the cook answered. "It is good to eat a bowl of hot stew while listening to ensorcelled waltzes from other planets", she added, winking with one eye.

"What waltzes?", asked Vanhayn, that although had just issued a negative, managed to grab a spoon, sink it into the stew, and bring a bit of soup from it.

"The higarans. Some pretty music they were playing. I don't know how, though", answered the cook, signaling with her large spoon the direction of the higaran part of the camp.

Vanhayn blew on the soup of the spoon, and then took the food inside her mouth, closing her eyes for a pair of seconds to enjoy as much as she could the flavor of the delicate herbs brewed into the mix. "Well, it's not time for music, Mary Diane, I need you to summon the Captains".

"There is always time for music, my Major said once while we rode out from a slave camp in the outer rim", answered the cook, leaving the ladle inside the soup, and drying her hands on her apron. "Anything important I have to tell them?".

"Yes, tell them that the Colonel wants to hold ground, so we will use a garden stanza within a hedged giga". Vanhayn usually transmitted her orders in person, but she did not want to hear objections today, not anymore, after she had been forced to execute a stranger. Should the situation escalate, she might have to do the same inside her own cadre. "Tell them that I am Lieutenant Colonel Vanhayn from the entire regiment, so I will not have my attention all for themselves. They will have to learn to play alone with their new roommates. There is an attack coming, and I want everything deployed in pattern. Garden stanza, with roses, tulips and violets on the outside, in full range of fire. Daisies on the inside, protected. They will have to raise sand hedges around the garden, and bury everything. Bastion pattern, escalated. There is a lot to dig and prepare and move, and we have less than one hour before the attack arrives. All support crew must work in building the garden, alongside every crewgirl available. All gunners and vehicle commanders must place their vehicles and range the terrain. The Colonel wants non-stop indiscriminate fire against the advancing lines, and if we remain static, I want perfect measuring and flawless accuracy"

The cook had nodded to every phrase issued by Vanhayn, although here she dared to speak. "So they are attacking us tonight?".

Vanhayn nodded softly, placing the spoon she held back in its place. "Pretty soon. Build and tend the garden. Those are my orders. Pass them on, the Captains know what to do. Now I have more than just the company to care about".

The cook smiled again. "Yes mother. Everything will be fine. This wasn't a position or a promotion you wanted, am I wrong?", she added, taking a step forward and grabbing Vanhayn's arm with one hand.

"I am sure I wanted it. Otherwise, someone else could be calling the shots, or even worse, no one would", added Vanhayn before sighing deeply. "I want it and I don't want it. But I'll fulfill my duties to the best of my capabilities".

"That you will. you always have", said the cook before she left the place, going to find the Captains of the offensive platoons and to give them the orders issued by the Major...No wait, the Lt. Colonel.

Vanhayn stood there for a moment, taking another spoonful of stew, and closing her eyes again. It's beautiful indeed, she told herself as the wind from the desert carried the music from the higaran camp into her ears. There is always time for music.

[Khornate Worshippers]

Captain Malakai, hearing his orders, nodded. "Yes, sir. It shall be done, in the Emperor's name."

He waited, as the other officers left the tent, before begging his own leave. "I beg leave to prepare my company for this operation, sir," he said, giving a salute on being dismissed.

Upon leaving the tent, he made his way back to his company's quarters. Upon his arrival, with Commissar Telgin as his side, his adjutant, Lieutenant Debesh Unnos, came to him. "Sir, we've organised our supplies with this regiment, though it took some persuading. The tank commanders are prepared for a briefing. Wings of Khenal is adjusting to the atmosphere better this deployment, and the tech-priests attached to this regiment tell me that it should be fully operational soon, though with that lot who knows what soon is. Other than that, we're all battle-ready. Do we have a target, sir?"

Captain Holt nodded. "Yes, we have a target...But for now, it seems like we'll be digging in. Get the tank crews in here. We have about an hour till the enemy attacks. And we're sitting here."

The lieutenant looked agasp. "Defending, sir? Digging in? B-" He stopped himself. "Yes, sir, it will be done, in the Emperor's name." He left the two, already on his route to summon the tank crews.

Only 5 minutes later, the commanders had been assembled, while the other crew members had started preparing their tanks for the upcoming battle.

"Gentlemen," began the captain, "we have a battle ahead of us. We'll be at a disadvantage - almost 8 of our tanks are ill-suited to this fight. And perhaps worse still, we'll be on the defensive. But I expect that each and every one of you will do your best for the Emperor, and His Imperium. Commissar, if you would lead us in prayer?"

The Commissar nodded, and began the Friesden Regiments' traditional prayer, the Warrior's Catechism of Worship.

"Look to your battle gear and it will protect you," he said, and the others responded "We guard it with our lives."

"Your armour is your soul, and your soul's dedication its armour." "The soul of a warrior is the protector of humanity."

"Honour the craft of death." "Only the Emperor is higher in our devotion."

"Honour the battle gear of the Dead." "We ask only to serve."

The commissar nodded, and stepped back.

"Gentlemen, you know your duty. We will be operating on vox channel X783/Y111/Z355. Keep your channels open with the friendlies. Their vox channels will be shortly transmitted to your machine spirits' cogitators. Make sure you are all ready for this mission. Ave Imperator!"

"Ave Imperator!" came the resounding reply, and the tank commanders filed out.

It was now in the Emperor's hands.

[Aelosia]

Vanhayn took a look of the camp around her from the vantage point of her turret cupola. The Inflecto Maestus was big enough as to tower itself over the normal guard tanks. She first watched the Colonel's company, folding into place in the center of it, around the Headquarters. Grim faced, disciplined Cadians with their characteristic armour. Around them were the Ogryns, huge, lumbering figures dragging heavy weapons around the center of the encampment. In selected spots, forming a star around the center of the map, were her own troops.

The support vehicles were in the center, around Vanhayn's tank. The Trojan ammunition supplying vehicles. The Atlas recovery vehicles. The scouting salamanders, with their autocannons pointing outwards. Even a pair of chimeras, the transport assigned to the only two infantry squads Vanhayn had under her direct command. The attack platoons were separated, forming the bastions of a five pointed star, the common entrenched deployment according to the teachings of the Duke Sebastian Presto De Vouvin, the famous thermidorian Maréchal. Each platoon was given aerial cover from a Hydra tank, although for sure not before long those tanks would depress their guns to engage enemies on the ground, as so far the rebels had not shown any aerial capabilities. The Basilisks were pointing south, towards the only place some armor could come from, meanwhile the Manticores and the Griffons pointed to the sides, able to engage any flank of the camp that could need artillery cover. Vanhayn had left the north approach covered only with scout vehicles and the chimeras, knowing that the Uber-Reich company had fifty Earthshakers of their own to unleash upon anything that could approach that coordinate. Anything that Vanhayn could point north would not make any difference amongst a barrage from fifty cannons.

The area around the camp had been "zoned" by Vanhayn's crews carried by the scouting vehicles one hour earlier. It had been measured with care, and now each vehicle commander held a number of coordinates to aim at anything that entered their range with precision. The new kind of thermidorian cogitators installed in the tanks would do the rest. the Thermidoian were highly professional about their technology, and left nothing open to possible improvisation. Each meter of the range of each of their guns had been measured and counted for, in advance, with the aim of directing the barrages to exact locations, and be able to track moving targets.

Around her own tanks Vanhayn could see a bit forward, the deployment of the Freisden Armoured. More than 20 Leman Russ' own tanks in line. It was the last bastion of steel of the improvised imperial castle. Luckily, nothing would even reach this instance. Most of the tattacks would crash against the first line of defense. Sappers, PDF, Betalis and Botun would suffer the most. Vanhayn knew what her work and the work of her soldiers was. It was to stop the strongest assets of the enemy, but they could not wipe away full ranks of enemy infantry assaulting the trenches. The infantry would have to fight, and die, in those dugouts.

She whistled softly the song she had heard from the higaran camp earlier, right after leaving the Colonel's tent. The song brought to her the memory of well done grox stew, and she licked her lips softly while gazing at the beautiful Evisor sunset. Any painter with talent would be amazed at the long incoming dusk, and marvel at the beauty of war getting ready to be unleashed in the red plain, under the orange sunset, with the temperature drop quickly turning into freezing. She sighed and slid inside the hatch of the cupola, and into her comfortable ferret leather seat. She checked a pair of coordinates, and also the results from the transponder that gave her the exact location of every vehicle in her company. Everything seemed to be fine.

"Platoons, report", she issued grabbing her voxmic. She heard the answers from her Captains in the field. So far there were no novelties. Every vehicle was on its place, every woman on it position. Every weapon was loaded, every distance measured and compared. There was nothing to do but to lie down inside her cupola, and wait until the rebels decided to show up. Vanhayn slid her hands into her black leather gloves that reached into her elbows. Maybe something could be done for morale. Tired but eager, Vanhayn opened her voxmic again.

"Ladies. Daughters. Damsels of Thermidor", she started her speech. "May your shells fly true into your enemies and the enemies of He Who Watches. May your brains and eyes and hands lead us to victory. Make me proud of having brought you all here, girls. There is nothing else I could add". The Lieutenant Colonel paused here for a second, pondering. "But of course, that the Emperor protects".

[Segmentia]

Lividivus exited the command tent, after two of his Cadians had removed the body of the ill-fated officer. His company were already set up in their positions. Sand-bags and slit-trenches had been prepared around the command center, and in case of bombardment, a command dugout. He heard the various amounts of apparent music and shook his head. So, the companies under his command liked to be dramatic in their preparation. He preferred the silence of his fellow Cadians as they took their positions. Just in time, as Lividivus could hear the dull thud of artillery, obviously not belonging to the Imperials. Arktheleon stopped and looked up as he heard the whistle of shells flying overhead. Well, the rebels first shells had missed. They would, of course, adapt their firing solutions.

So Lividivus hopped into a nearby slit-trench, nodding at the soldiers already in it. His personal vox-operator and other aides hopped in after him. Arktheleon picked up the vox-receiver.

"All company commanders, this is Authority, the rebels will be attacking shortly, if I may take a guess. Report status."

[The Empire of Pretantia]

"Go, go, go!"

The Bangalores maintaining their vehicles scrambled, sprinting to join their comrades in the trenches. The enemy was coming, and it was time to be a part of the 1162nd regiment. Ali was already in his trench by the time the others arrived, and he was under a Taurus not a moment ago. His men were getting slow. It would be a shame if the good captain was alive to see this. Good thing he wasn't, contradictorily.

---

The Skullers were already in position, having nothing better to do than sit like corpses in the trenches. The two transports were left behind, as they would be as useless as a ten-foot target. The thud of artillery was soft at first, but it grew louder as time went by. Soon the Rebels would actually be hitting the base, but by then everyone would be in their places, whether that be in the trenches or the armor.

[Firstaria]

Daniel and his man had reached position for a while now, covering a good part of the South of the base. They were waiting for tanks, so he made the Leman Rus occupy position a little forward to avoid bombing of the trenches. Those babies could resist some fire while the enemy would end up bombarded by their Heavy Bolters.

"24th Oblivion here Authority, we are in the south line aiming far, as soon as they show their faces we will wait for them to get a little closer and then fill them with bolter ammo. In two months we will all eat nice veggie with all the fertilizer I'm gonna make them produce!"

Daniel said, looking at his company and checking his sniper rifle. All they were waiting was the right moment to shoot.

[Legital]

Hess and his tanks were lined up in a double wide column near their billets and mechanical section. The tanks idled noisily, their engines grumbling as tank commanders sat up in their cupolas, caps fastened in place and vox systems hanging around their necks. Out of the forty so Leman Russ tanks, a little less than half were Vanquisher patterns, while the rest were standard main battle tanks. Hess's Vanquisher was at the front of the column, however he stood beside his tank talking to Cain and Amsel. The three men were huddled around a small map of the area, and Hess pointed to several spots.

"The main heretic armor should be approaching from here." He stated, motioning to the south. "Expect attacks on our flanks once we are in the open, and keep a close eye out for any spotters for artillery. Other than that, this is all rather straight forward. Its mostly flat terrain, however there are large dunes out there. I recommend them for cover, however assume the enemy is doing so as well." Cain rubbed his bearded chin, and Amsel stood with his hands firmly clasped behind his back. "We're going with the cattle horns." He continued, knowing that the two Higarans knew what he meant. The Cattle Horn maneuver was an age old tactic where two horns emitted from the main tank force, moving around the enemy to surround them. The main part, known as the 'head' or 'torso' would clash with the main enemy body. The rear would be reserve, being able to move to where ever needed. "However, keep your ears well open. A change of plans could come at any moment. This, however, is what we are currently situated with. Are we clear?" Hess asked, looking up from the map.
Cain nodded with a friendly smile, and Amsel offered a curt nod. Hess nodded back as well. "Very well then. Mount up and follow my lead."

...it was not a long time before Hess and his tanks were maneuvering through the fort, heading towards the southern entrance to deploy on the battlefield. The Vanquisher tanks were equally distributed amongst the formation when they began to form into position. As there were ten Leman Russ tanks in each of the four parts of the formation, the Vanquishers made up a good amount of the forward part. Hess and his tank were leading the right horn, while Cain had the left. Amsel kept to the middle, to ensure no one routed from formation.
They were a good ways from the base, now stationary, when Hess received the vox transmission from the Colonel.

"This is Mustache, to Authority." Hess said, realizing how comical it sounded. He simply shook his head. "We are in formation and in position on the southern flank. No signs of enemy armor yet, sir." Hess said, activating night operations mode for his range and view finder. He scanned the horizon, and did not spot anything. But he knew they were out there, as even in the night, there was a faint dust cloud in the distance.

[Aelosia]

The shells overflew the entire imperial camp and passed overhead the complex. That was a sloppy job, to miss such a large target, and a stationary one. Vanhayn guessed the rebels were doing everything by manual. She watched the screen as her cogitator fought to follow the trajectories of the missing projectiles, although the machine just flickered and started the calculus with a whirring noise.

She flicked her commlink open and barked a simple order to the rest of her squads. "Give me impact points, now", the former Major issued as she took a key and opened a simple metal box lying next to her seat inside the massive turret of her tank. As soon as the box opened, it came from inside it a soft noise of a grav-engine turning on. Two seconds later a skull came out of the box, or at least half of it, as half the head was bone and the other half was an amalgamated mixture of augmentics and electronic components. This particular servo skull did not even have the common vision sensors, and was completely blind, one of the reasons Vanhayn could not use it outside of her tank. The skull could not follow her without any kind of sensors, so its antigrav engine only allowed it to float in the same spot. However, all the space that could be filled with sensors was now filled with additional calculus components, being just a massive computer mounted on a portable platform. Of course, the choice of the platform was pretty particular.

"Grandma", said Vanhayn as she took the floating skull with reverence and seemed to look at it with something akin to nostalgy and grief. "I might need you to run some numbers, if you allow it", she added, as she plugged a pair of cables under the floating head, where the neck once was. Another whirring sound came from inside the skull as it connected to the mainframe of the tank, loading data as it as supposed to be.

From outside came several echoing explosions, without doubt the rebel shells falling away and activating after passing overhead. Vanhayn caught her manual mic with one hand as she directed data from her tank' cogigator to the servo skull floating inside the cuupola. "Do you have my impact points?", she asked her Captains as her right fingers worked on the nalwood keyboard.

"We are correlating data", answered her first Captain, meaning that the three Captains were going to compare their results, discard the wrong vectors, and give her what clear targets they might have synthetized. "Good news is that those were Earthshakers. If they can range us, they are inside our range".

"Give me the impact poins then", Vanhayn repeated, and watched how a stream of numbers and coordinates started to flood her screen, coming form the command vehicles of her different platoons. By tracking the flying vectors of the projectiles and their points of impact, the servo skull and the cogigator of her tank, together, could trace the point of origin from the shells. And that meant the enemy artillery positions. And that also meant sucessful anti-battery operations.

Vanhayn fed all the data to the servo skull and awaited the ten to twenty seconds of proccesing. As she was waiting, she heard the serious voice of the Colonel in the regimental channel. "All company commanders, this is Authority, the rebels will be attacking shortly, if I may take a guess. Report status."

She flickered the vox to answer after hearing the first responses from the other commanders. "Authority, here Mistress. Locked, loaded and entering counter-battery duty", she said with the most neutral tone of voice she could muster. "Firing non-stop with target priority as ordered", she added before closing the box and started to feed the coordinates of the origin points to her first platoon. Sadly, the points of origin were outside the range of both her Manticores and her Gryffons, so she might have to relay only on her first platoon to fire upon the enemy artillery. Only the Basilisks, and even those would need to rotate, had enough range as to...

Basilisks?, no, only Earthshaker artillery could reach that range, she told herself. She was a Lieutenant Colonel now, and she had far more resources at her disposition than her scarce company. Coordination was her forte, in any case. She opened her link to her comm officer, as she had not those voxlinks saved as permanents. "Mariandre, please open me a link to X716/Y198/Z900, code turbulent", Vanhayn said to her subaltern. "The Übereichers, yes".

Once the link was established, Vanhayn told Kolumbein her idea in short words. "I might have certain coordinates that I need to pass on to you artillery officer in command, if I may", she said, trying to be both firm and yet polite.

She kept the call on hold, and barked a single order to her first platoon. "Rotate and engage, Trebuchets", she said, changing channels again awaiting from Kolumbein's response.

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All four basilisks were loaded. It was only needed to pull the string. Yet they needed to rotate, not too much, but several degrees, in order to face the coordinates they had planned. the vast mahcines rotated on their spot, and finally placed their barrels pointing at their objective. Captain Valerie Valentine remained inside her Salamander Command Vehicle, checking thrice if every basilisk had rotated while maintaining the same position respecting the target, a fact absolutely necessary for perfect accuracy. As any other Captains, she did not activate the artillery pieces themselves. They were there to monitor the activity of the entire battery. She ran the last calculations on wind strength and direction against the specific weight of the Earthshakers' shells, and incorporated the data to the targetting matrix.

"Perfect", she said, "Everything on position. Fire and reload at will. Give them three quakes, then await further orders", she said through her internal battery channel to each of her four Basilisk commanders. Her last words coincided with the almost unison four discharges of her platoon, the first shells from the imperial side flying towards the calculated points of origin of the rebel barrages. The Basilisks rocked back with the recoil of the huge discharges, but their drivers, with unprecedented delicacy, engined the pieces forward into the same position, with a precision measured in centimeters. Before the Basilisks were even in place after the first shot, each loader, the only member of the crew outside the armoured compartment of the Basilisks, opened the hatch of the barrel by acivating one lever, took a new shell from the autoloader platter and put it in place with the help of a lever-crane, then doing the same with the propellant charge sacks, weight and power varying according to the distance the shells were going to be fired, and precalculated before each shot. After reactivating the lever that closed the barrel again, each gun roared when the gunner inside the cockpit calibrated and fired it, the projectiles flying high looking for their targets. The entire process was done one more time before the huge cannons fell silent.

[Bone Fort]

Demens watched the battle unfold, perched atop his command tank. Everything was set in place. The trenches had been dug, weapon emplacements set up, tanks entrenched, men at the ready. His artillery units, while small in number, were doing what they could to silence the enemy guns, firing away in the general area of the enemy in hopes of hitting something. He could hear the rest of the company's artillery fire as well.

He watched as the enemy's first salvo went wide, missing them by a long shot. He chuckled. He climbed back into the tank and got on the vox.

"Asylum to Authoritah, all is ready, but there's no sign of the enemy yet. Awaiting contact with the enemy or change in orders. Standing by... Wait, can we get one of the aircraft to do a recon run, try and spot them? See how far out they are, perhaps? Maybe even an airstrike or orbital bombardment, or is that asking for too much?"

Why does everyone always seem to forget about air power? Why don't we just airstrike them into oblivion?... Oh wait, that'd be too easy, I forgot. Nothing can ever be easy in the Imperium, that'd be heretical. How silly of me.

"... I eagerly await your word, Authoritah. Asylum out."