Hi all. Thanks for all the views and feedback for the first part of Jungle Musings. Just so everyone is aware these two chapters are parts I have been working on for a much bigger story. As this is my first fic I've posted these two short teasers to get feedback on whether I'm getting everything right. This chapter focuses on a Guard platoon. I hasten to add these troopers are certainly not the Catachans from the previous chapter! This scene would take place much later in the story than the previous entry. This will probably be the last addition until I have completed my story. If you are enjoying and wish for more, I am currently around 10,000 words at the moment so the story is definitely underway! Any feedback, as ever, much appreciated!
Jungle Musings
Bravo Company's fourth platoon was strung out in a staggered formation order of march down the trail. It was their rotation to spearhead the Imperial advance through this hellish jungle. They had been on the move since 0600 hours, and the steadily heating jungle sapped at their strength. The troopers were tired and dripped with sweat; the sun was fast approaching its zenith. The undulating lay of the land combined with the heavy foliage that invariably required hacking back, seemed unending. Third squad were on point; they were seasoned soldiers, and they knew the importance of their job, however they had missed the mines. In their defence, the mines were strung up high in the trees, but this did not detract from their lethality. They detonated with loud screeches, firing thousands of poisonous splinters down carefully planned vectors. Fifth and fourth squad simply ceased to exist as military units. Twenty men, wiped from the face of the planet in less than a blink of the eye, leaving a gaping space between third squad and first and second. Shredded bodies and twisted equipment were all that showed their passing. The ringing silence that followed was quickly filled with the experienced bellows of the sergeants and corporals ordering the remainder of the platoon into some semblance of a defensive position. Dazed troopers stumbled about the trail, rifles snapping back and forth. Confusion and fear ran rampant.
Lieutenant Ixus cursed softly to himself. He was an experienced officer who had just witnessed a large portion of his men obliterated by xeno trickery. "Serus! Here, now!" he snapped, whilst motioning to his voxcasterman. The trooper rushed to his side trying to keep as low as possible, so far there had been no further contact with the enemy. Serus was silently praying to the Emperor they were alone on the trail as he fumbled for the receiver, handing it to Ixus. The lieutenant checked to make sure first squad's NCO, Corporal Marin, was overseeing the troopers' deployment. Satisfied Marin had the situation in hand, he raised the receiver and managed, "Bravo 1-1, Bravo 1-1, this is Bravo 4-1, conta-" before he found himself flung to his back on the dusty jungle floor. The voxcaster receiver was gone; as was his hand, a bloody sizzling stump where once it had been. Ixus gaped at his arm oblivious of everything else, until Serus appeared above him. "Oh Holy Emp- Medicae! Medicae, over here!" the trooper glanced desperately around, Ixus was starting to convulse, going into shock the trooper assumed. "Medicae! Medicae! Where the frak-". Serus' throat was torn out by the same type of splinter that had removed Ixus' hand. The trooper had time to look surprised that he no longer had a voice; before he tumbled wordlessly to the bloody jungle floor, next to the lieutenant he had been trying to help. His voxcaster was targeted next, riddled with the same splinters, rendering it totally inoperable. Of the five long-range voxcasters in the platoon, three had been neutralised in as many minutes. More splinters began to hiss through the air, troopers either slumped soundlessly to the ground or howled in pain, writhing in the undergrowth. The air began to fill with the shrieks of men in torment.
Staff sergeant Vallox knew he needed to regain control of the situation. He had no idea where the lieutenant was, but he knew if the man were still combat effective he would have been organising the men. That left Vallox as ranking NCO to take control. He spoke quickly, but confidently into his short range microbead "This is Vallox, second squad active, sound off." There was a pregnant pause, fear began to clutch at the staff sergeant when, to his relief, "Third squad, active" came back through the vox. The next transmission quickly undid the staff sergeant's relief. "This is Marin, the LTs gone! Half of first squads dead! Voxcasters frakked!" The panicked corporal's voice blared in the staff sergeant's ears. "Can't see them! They're all around us!" The furious sound of outgoing lasfire, audible anyway through the jungle, was enhanced over the vox. The command squad had been positioned in front of second squad, who had been covering the rear of the platoon. Now that the survivors of first squad were laying down fire in a 360 degree arc; bright, angry and lethal lasfire was beginning to fly over the prone forms of second squad. "Marin! Maintain fire discipline! You're firing on friendlies!" Vallox tried to calm the terrified corporal, but to no effect. A last, garbled response came from Marin. "They're in the trees! Above u-" static played in Vallox's ear, and the line went dead. The sergeant turned to his men who were grim-faced, knuckles white on their weapons.
"Alright boys, targets are using the trees, I want that stopped right now." He finished with a snarl. "Let's see if we can provide some cover for first squad. Attius I want that stubber laying down controlled fire, short bursts. Erras get over here with the voxcaster." Second squad snapped into action, Attius began laying down tight bursts of fire, the stubber spitting angry hot rounds into the trees in front, scything away at the surrounding jungle. Whilst Vallox tried raising Bravo One and Captain Reran with Erras the voxcasterman, the remaining seven troopers kept up a constant stream of lasfire to their fronts, their fire elevated. The troopers were well aware of the fact that the remains of the platoon were directly to their front, no one wanted to hit a friendly on top of this disaster. Vallox spared a moment to admire the deft manner in which the xenos' had almost tricked the remains of the platoon into massacring one another in a crossfire of the troopers' own making. The vox receiver crackled in his hand and the sound of an angry Captain Reran came into existence "…avo 4-1, Bravo 4-1, this is Bravo 1-1 sitrep, Throne damn-it! Over!
With great relief Vallox hit the send button "Bravo 1-1, Bravo 1-1 this is Bravo 4-2. Ambush, I say again, ambush. Bravo 4-1 down. Position, grid niner-seven-four by three-two-six, over!"
A moment's pause followed, then "Bravo 4-2, I've got you. Listen up sergeant. You are to reconsolidate the platoon on your pos, then fall back to the blue line at grid niner-seven-three by three-two-fiver. How copy? Over" Vallox scanned his map and saw the river indicated by the Captain, it was half a click away. "Bravo 1-1, Roger your last, over."
"Bravo 4-2, listen carefully. Bravo 2-1 is securing that blue line, you get to that river and you'll have friendlies pouring out cover fire. Get it done sergeant. I'm co-ordinating with Anvil 1-1 now; they'll be in touch when the heavy stuff is set to support you. The Emperor protects, Vallox. Bravo 1-1 over and out."
"Bravo 1-1, roger, The Emperor protects. Bravo 4-2, over and out." Vallox threw the receiver back to Erras who fumbled the catch. The cacophony of gunfire was deafening but Vallox had heard what he wanted to hear. Anvil was the call sign for the Catachan 83 Armoured, specifically their Griffon mortar tank detachment. They would certainly smash the frakking xenos out of the trees.