XVIII Corps’ 28
th Infantry Division, under 1*
General Jelan is composed of five regiments raised as one founding from the
world of Ketzok. The Ketzok 2
nd
Light Infantry are the Divisional Recce formation. This balmy summer evening finds 3/2KLI
pushing through the commercial district of the town of Lealine
. At the Northern end of XVIII Corps’ TAOR, Lt
Col Daaler is in no hurry, he knows that XVII Korps to the north are also
sending recce elements into the conurbation.
Lealine is thought likely to be occupied by the PLA and
their new allies, the so called ‘Blood Pact’
. Lt Col Daaler picks ‘B’ Company and its OC
selects his lead platoon and they shake out into their skirmish formation and
push into the ruins with the aim of securing a line along Glassmill Way, the
main north/south road through the town, by nightfall and allowing the rest of
3/2LI to reinforce them during the night.
Tound ducked as the stubber slugs thumped into the doorway
around him, he threw himself backwards in a shower of stone chips and dust,
landing on his arse and skidding across the broken glass and smashed door. Stooler’s hand bit into his shoulder and
pulled him further back as the smoky trail of the tread fether came through the
ruined doorway and thumped into the now damp plaster.
Tound and Stooler both flicked their eyes up to the tail
sticking out of the wall barely more than arms reach away from them, spring
loaded fins quivering as the rocket motor fizzed out. Scrambling for his las carbine, barely catching
the sling with his fingertips, Tound
found his feet again. They ran pell mell
back through the ruined kitchen show room, catching up with the rest of their
squad, bunching, pushing. Feet skidded
on the debris.
Their Sergeant stood her ground and shouldered her squad
members aside as they broke around her like waves around a rock. Her right arm extended, flinging three
grenades through the door opening back into the room Tound and Stooler had
entered. Pins and handles tumbled onto
soldiers diving for cover.
Keilbach was the first out of the back of the shop complex,
running low and headlong he was heading for the picture window of the shop
opposite, half way across he seemed to stumble and crashed face first into the
showroom, leaving pink mist and the smell of charred flesh in the air behind him.
Ramiphilon was moving too fast to stop, he also caught half a dozen
las-rounds and fell backwards, back into the kitchen shop.
They were trapped.
They had been the cutting edge of the battalion advance; the squad were
a probing patrol moving deep into the urban area, combing through the
commercial district. There were other
squads also probing like they were, but these were spaced widely to avoid
friendly fire incidents. They had taken
a few targeted las shots and dived into a ruined shop to outflank the shooter,
only to run into a better laid ambush; now their original way in was cut off.
If it was just another squad, they had a chance to fight it
out. If it was a larger formation, their best hope was to dig in and wait for
relief. Tound as an experienced soldier
of some eight years active service, knew this and was cursing their luck;
Sergeant Hunebuck’s squad
were good at infiltrating through the urban battle field; they drilled for it
extensively and had plenty of real life experience. Which meant that the veterans they were
facing were even better.
The grenades went off, setting off the RPG and sending a
tongue of flame shooting across the ceiling of the small space the remains of
the squad were in. Sergeant Gelmaur
barked orders to form up for a hasty attack and thumbed the activation rune on
her chainsword. She stepped back into
the burning room and instantly crumpled under bursts of las and stubber
fire. Heavy bolter fire began to eat
into the building from the back.
As the stonework of the building was being eaten away, heavy
bolter rounds penetrated the ruin and began exploding in the space the squad
were sheltering in, showering men with
more stone flakes and killing three of them outright, including Josle the medic
who was frantically trying to stem Ramphilion’s bleeding.
Brenus emptied his las rifle on full auto through the gap
where Sergeant Gelmaur had fallen.
Stooler followed suit. Tound
threw his grenades through the doorway, past his two squad mates and then moved
back again leaving the reloaded Brenus facing the outside world. There were a series of explosions from
outside of the building and fiz and crack of las cannon fire. The three of them inched through the room,
stepping over Sergeant Gelmaur and the three dirty red-brown soldiers who’d
shot her and then been slain in turn.
Glancing outside they could see the hulking form of a
Wolverine armoured car
repeatedly blasting away with its twin las-cannons at the positions from which
the squad had been ambushed. “Thank
feth….” Began Tound, the sound of his voice being chocked off as a red covered
arm wrapped itself around his neck, he felt himself being pulled over backwards
onto the knife, a text book manoeuvre he’d used a few times himself. He could smell the dried blood that the
assailant’s arm had been died red with. He
felt the knife wielding hand wriggle and saw the knife as his own body weight
was used to kill him. The jagged blade
had gone in through his arm pit and was now scraping the inside of his body
armour.
Stooler spun around and put a sustained burst of eight las
rounds through the leering mask of the man stabbing his best friend. The second infiltrator flung his axe end
over end, splitting Stooler’s helmet and buring itself in his head, almost but
not quite bisecting it.
Brenus emptied his rifle into the second infiltrator and
then dropped it and snatched up Stooler’s carbine. Through the back door, their original point of
entry, he could see a Warthog nosing through the rubble, it’s autocannon slowly
traversing, already spent brass tinkling on to the road off of the rear
platform as the vehicle rolled forward, large low pressure tyres rolling purposefully and slowly over broken glass, smashed brick and Guardsman Ramphilion's las carbine without further damaging any of it.
Guardsman Brenus, suffering from a mild sweat, a coating of
stone dust and the promise of downstream PTSD, is the last man standing. It’s
another six minutes before he feels safe enough to quit covering the threat
points and begin triage and first aid on his squad mates.
3/2KLI established itself along the western boundary of
Glassmill Way, but not until after midnight and only after taking many more
casualties than anticipated. 72AG had
met the Blood Pact for the first time and found the skirmishes unexpectedly tough.
The rest of the Regiment formed up on the positions
established by 3/2KLI. 28 Inf Div
intended to form up and prosecute an assault on the inner districts of Lealine
after 24hours of rest, re-organisation and preparation
. In the event, Blood Pact counter attacks,
under cover of the ruined buildings, continued, sometimes in strength,
throughout the day, only ceasing when the Divisional attack was launched.
