Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or Warhammer 40,000, please don't sue me.
Chapter 7: The Armored Fist-Horrors of War
Colonel Kyoraku remained within the armored shell of his Leman Russ and simply leaned back in the small seat and waited for the order to start rolling out his force. They had been placed further south and were going to strike hard and fast at the enemy's flank. A Blitzkrieg style tactic, it was simple as he it to his company. You run and shot anything that moves, but you don't stop running. He smiled at the seemingly simple explanation and then sighed as he listened to the men in his tank prepare for the up coming battle in their own ways.
His driver and crew chief, one of the side sponson gunners prayed together and his loader smoked a cigar. The other sponson gunner was fast asleep and gently snoring. Kyoraku looked through the night vision monitor to the city outside. It was awash with green light but it did make a difference over use just his eyes alone. The vox unit in the tank began to hiss and crackle and the men in the vehicle perked up. Even the sleeping gunner woke when the crew chief slapped him on the head.
Kyoraku touched the ear piece and listened to the radio transmission.
"Eight, ten," it began, "Go."
Kyoraku let out another quiet sigh and looked at the men in the tank. He gave them a reassuring smile and nodded his head. He men slapped each other on the shoulder and the tanks engines roared to life.
"Eighth Company," he said his voice raspy from not speaking, "we got the order lets roll out, runnin' and gunnin'."
There were various replies and acknowledgements, and Captain's Aizen and Ichimaru broke in on the vox and wished Kyoraku and Hitsugaya luck. Gin Ichimaru however sounded like a snake in the grass as he always did. Kyoraku just thanked both men and wished them the same.
"Mister Suo," Kyoraku said opening the top hatch and letting some of the cold air into the blazing hot interior of the tank, "roll out."
The tanks formed a column of two and began roaring through the towns streets; they would reach the projected front line in roughly twenty seconds. They barreled down at just enough speed for the infantry to keep up. And it wasn't long before the first shots opened up. Kyoraku heard pings and loud bangs as small arms fire hit the armored hull of the tank. He phased it out and began calling out enemies.
"Heavy bolter, dead ahead chamber one," he said over the roaring engine.
"Load one," the loader shouted and he placed a large round into the breech of the battle cannon. "We're hot," he said making a fist and slamming the round into the breech. It closed automatically and Kyoraku gripped the handles in front of his seat and placed his index fingers on the triggers. He gently squeezed both triggers at the same time and the reward was a loud, deep boom that might have deafened him if he were not wearing protective ear muffs.
The screen flared briefly, but adjusted to the sudden bright light and Kyoraku watched as the round hit spot on. The machine gun nest was blow to pieces and he saw at least one body go flying into the air from the explosion. He barked again for another round and the loader chambered yet another. He hit a button on the wall and the munitions case on the back of the tanks compartment placed another round to where he could easily grab it and load it for the third shot.
"Hostile targets to the left," the crew chief shouted.
"We're hot," the loader barked and slapped Kyoraku on the shoulder. The Colonel fired another round at a group of rebel soldiers as they scrambled to figure out a plan.
The crew chief opened up with his sponson heavy bolter and began tearing into the rebels that were trying to engage the infantry on the left of the tank. He would fire down alleyways as they passed them, and the gun would burp fire for the slightest moment then go silent again.
"Colonel Kyoraku," a voice broke in over the vox. It was Nanao; the sound of her tanks heavy bolter sponson was almost overshadowing her voice.
"Go ahead, Nanao," Kyoraku shouted over the sounds of the heavy bolter.
"Sir, command reports that the strike team was successful in taking out the enemy mortars," she said, Kyoraku smiled for a moment but it sounded as if there was something that she wasn't telling him.
"What else did they say?"
"Well, they ran into unexpected resistance," she said her voice slightly uneasy.
"What kind," he goaded as he triggered the gun for a third time and blew a hole in the barricade that blocked the columns path.
"Private channel, sir," she said and Kyoraku absently fingered the switch and sent their conversation to the command line, only used by officers.
"Alright now spill it, what's up?"
"They ran into a Chaos Dreadnought," she said. Kyoraku hesitated at the triggers for a second. What the hell, he thought. He squeezed the triggers and sent the round down range and into the hull of a hydra AA tank.
"Are you sure," he said and he could feel the eyes of his loader, right and left sponson gunners on him. They couldn't hear the conversation but they wanted to know what it was that had their commander sweating, and it wasn't the engine heat.
******
The infantry moved along the side of the column and fired at anything the moved on the rooftops, in the buildings, or down the alleyways. Las bolts lanced through the dark night and the tanks at the front of the column roared as their cannons opened fire. The deeper the armored fist got into the town the bright it became. Not from the sun, but from the fires from the carnage the tanks were leaving in their wake. It was after the first twenty minutes of the assault that the tanks broke off into smaller units and groups of infantry followed their assigned tank.
Lieutenant Momo Hinamori ran along side the tank belonging to Senior Lieutenant Nanao Ise. The tanks cannon fired a round with a loud boom and the ground shook under her feet. Dust which had settled on the asphalt of the street clouded up as the tank fired. The invisible force that was behind every round belched from the massive battle cannon.
The right side sponson was barking out the heavy bolter rounds into a building and Momo risked a glance around the tanks protective hull to watch as the front of the building was turned to something more resembling a type of cheese. Her platoon slowly walked in a hunched over position as the tank slowly crawled to the west down the street.
"Alright Lieutenant Hinamori," Nanao shouted over the vox, "Clear me a path north."
"Roger," Momo replied and turned back to her platoon, "Let's go."
At her words the squads quickly began moving around the tank and running toward the buildings along the north side of the street. One squad jumped in to the destroyed store front and finished off any survivors of the heavy bolter and battle cannon assault. Momo approached the corner of the building and looked north down the street. Beyond in the faint darkness she saw houses. Mostly, they were either all ready torn apart or they were boarded up and shut tight.
"Sergeant Kyoko," she said into the microbead, "take your squad right and begin clearing the homes on that side of the street."
"Sergeants Ogami and Doji, go with her, Sergeant Watanabe, you're with me, now go." There were acknowledgement of orders and the three squads she had sent right dashed across the street and quickly began moving through the yards of the homes and taking positions to breach.
Momo and her squads ran along the left side of the street and jumped the fence into the yard of the first house. Watanabe and his squad went to the next house and quickly began knocking down the door. Momo approached the front door and sent four of the guardsmen in her squad around to the back and waited until they gave the go ahead. She nodded to one of the men on the other side of the door. He stepped in front of it and kicked one of his large boots into it. He drilled it with enough force that the door swung open on the first kick and Momo ducked low, her gun raised.
The trooper followed in with her and he readied his gun for any movement. The room was dark and they couldn't see a thing. Momo reached up and placed the night vision goggles over her eyes and began scanning the room. She took a few steps forward and held up a fist. The large man stopped behind her and they both began to take in their surroundings. They were in an entry hall; a set of stairs was along the left side which led up to the second floor. To her immediate right was like a living room, there were a set of couches and two chairs. The windows were boarded up and no light was being allowed inside.
She held up two fingers and pointed up the stairs. The large man moved past her carefully checked his corners as he advanced with two other guardsmen. Momo then waved forward and the remainder of the squad filed in behind her. She moved through the living area and briefly glanced at the books on the shelves. From the titles she figured they were mostly just trashy novels that the home owners tried to pass off as viable literature.
"Hey Harima," one of the troopers whispered over the vox, "here's you some more dirty books to sell to the navy boys." There was a quiet gut of laughter.
"Yeah," the one called Harima paused, "Hot, heavy passion, says the Vorhast Informer, damn I'm feeling good about this one already."
"Stay quiet and fall in," Momo snapped, "we're here to save these people not loot from them."
There was a quiet response and the guardsmen put the book down and Momo continued forward. She approached a closed door and snapped her fingers and two of the remaining three troopers with her stood in front of the door guns shouldered. She put her back against the wall and her hand gently touched the door knob. Momo slowly began to turn it and even with the distant ambient sounds of battle from outside the home she could hear the springs in the knob moving the bolt out of the jam.
She slowly opened the door and then threw it open and crouched to one knee and aimed her rifle. As she looked she saw three soldiers already pointing their weapons at them and she felt her body freeze for a moment. Without thinking her body pulled the trigger and unleashed a burst of three las bolts at the one crouch and ready to shot her. The other two troopers joined in and their laser rounds lanced through the darkness of the room briefly illuminating it. They stopped however as the sound of breaking glass filled their ears.
"Oh Emperor damn it," Harima breathed heavily as if his heart had stopped and just sudden began beating again, "It's a fucking mirror."
"Nice going hot shot," the fourth trooper said, her voice sarcastic and scrutinizing, you can add a mirror on to that kill list of yours Kakita."
Momo felt her heart pounding in her chest and she placed a hand over her heart and breathed a sigh of relief. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Harima next to her.
"You alright LT," he asked helping her to her feet.
"I'm fine," she said thanking him and pushing the destroyed mirrors frame out of the way. She looked and saw what appeared to be a kitchen and then the image of one of her squad's troopers. He looked down the hall toward her and gave her a thumb's up. She nodded and called out on the microbead to the team she sent up stairs.
"Sitrep," she said her voice still shaky from the battle with the mirror. After a second the big trooper responded, his voice was not very pleased.
"LT," he began a disgust and sadness in his voice, "You're going to want to see this."
"What is it," she asked already starting to move toward the stairs. She exited the living area and began walking toward the carpeted steps to get with the upstairs team.
"It's something I can't describe; you just have to see it, second floor; last door on the left."
Momo quickened her pace and swiftly reached the top of the stairs. She was face to face with a wall and she turned to her right and saw a trooper sitting on the floor, his back slouched against the wall and he was softly praying. Her head turned and she saw the large trooper exiting a room shaking his head. Momo removed her night vision and the trooper took a lamp pack and shined it down the hallway. As she approached he handed it to her and stepped away.
Instantly she smelled it. It wasn't the fresh smell of household disinfectant or the aroma of cooking or even fresh paint. It was the stench of death, and as her eyes turned to the right and tried to look into the dark room without the light, she figured that whatever it was was beyond her sight hiding in the darkness, just waiting to assault her the moment she shined the light into the room.
But her curiosity got the better of her and she felt her arm slowly raise the lamp pack and shine it into the room. The reek of decay and death hung in the air; it was also prevalent that the aura of evil encompassed this room. She tried not to shine the light in, but the subconscious of her might would not allow her to not bear witness to whatever it was in the room.
As the first bit of the light started to trail across the floor, she saw the slightest drops of blood. Then as the light traveled further she saw the small drops turning into larger trails and pools of blood in the light colored carpet. As the light continued in its illumination of the horror she was witnessing she saw a hand. The fingers were white and stained with crimson blood, a gold ring was on the ring finger and from the looks of it the hand belonged to a man.
She felt her body shaking as the fear started to set in. she didn't want to see anything else, but her subconscious was pushing her onward. The natural human curiosity which she had been taught since a girl to suppress was taking over, and the light continued further to illuminate the darkness. The hand was of course attached to an arm which was attached to a body. But, the man was lying on his back, and his stomach had been cut open. His internal organ exposed and displayed for all to see like an exhibit. He was only wearing pajama bottoms and the white was stained heavily with red blood.
The light trailed up to his head, which was for the most part intact. Except for the lower jaw, this had been ripped off. The ragged tears in the flesh were the sign of brutal treatment. Momo felt her jaw drop and the light continued to travel up from the floor where the man lay and to the bed behind him. On it was a figure, she was partially covered by the sheets, but Momo could tell this was a woman.
She took a step in, human nature taking hold of her again, and she stepped around the corpse of the man and went to the bed. The woman's lower half was covered by a blood soaked bed sheet, and Momo reached out to it. She didn't know why, but some part of her was trying to confirm something. What it was, she didn't consciously know, but as her hand touched the sheet, she figured it out.
Removing the sheet she saw a blood soaked mattress and the woman's exposed lower body. Momo let go of the sheet and tripped backwards as she tried to back away in horror. She fell to the floor and put a hand down to stand back up. The lamp pack had fallen out of her grip and lay on the floor shining its light back toward the left side of the room. Momo looked at the pack and grabbed it, and then out of the corner of her eye she saw something else that the light was showing. As her eyes slowly made the trip from the lamp pack to the open closet, where the light shined, tears began to well up in her eyes.
She breathed heavily and the tears started to stream heavily down her cheeks. Felling weak she knelt down and sat on her feet. Burying her head in her hands she began to weep at the sudden horror she was witnessing before her. Her heart ached more she could ever remember, and she was filled with so many emotions. Sorrow and hate, were the two strongest, and they only grew stronger as she took in the horrifying images this couples two murdered children.
The large trooper outside lit up a cigarette and looked upon the faces of the nine other guardsmen in the squad. They were all veterans now, they had gone through hell in the first two weeks of the invasion, but they had never run across anything like this, he had gathered them here for one reason. And that was to show them, the absolute deeps lows of human nature.
"Sergeant Tamaska," he heard his name from inside the room. He turned his head and looked at his lieutenant.
"Yes ma'am," he said his usual hard stern voice replaced with one that was soft and soothing.
"Where's the vox," she asked as she managed to stand, "I have to call this in."
"Vox is ready," he said, "and so is the squad, I want them to see this too."
She exited the room wiping tears from her eyes and gave the sergeant an absent nod of the head. He began sending in the troopers two at a time and Momo approached the Vox officer. The young man handed her the handset.
"Other squads are already calling in about similar findings," the young man said.
She began calling in, and she did so on the regimental frequency.
"Captain Aizen," she said and then waited for a response.
"Go ahead," she heard him reply the voice filled with static.
"We have," she choked and covered her eyes, as if she was trying to block the images from filling her mind, but knew that it was fruitless, the horror was already burned there forever.
"What is it, Momo," he called, the ambient gunfire louder where he was, "do you need support?"
"Negative," she said, "We have evidence of war crimes, sir."
There was a pause on the line, even the other radio chatter died out and she knew that everyone who was listening had managed to hear what she had said. After the long silence, which seemed to last forever, Aizen came back on the line.
"Hold your position, Lieutenant," he said, "we'll get someone up there to take care of them."
"Understood," she said and handed the handset back to the trooper. She took off her helmet and her arm dropped to her side. Her fingers were weak and the flak helmet fell to the hardwood floor of the second floor. She ran her fingers through her hair and felt the tears forming again. She couldn't fight them, there was no point. They began to stream down her cheeks again and she collapsed to her knees. She began to silently pray for the souls of the children and the parents, and when she finished her prayers, she started again, until everyone in the squad had seen the atrocity in the room.
"I don't get it serge," Harima said softly as he left the room holding back vomit, "how can people do this to one another?"
Tamaska looked at the younger man and exhaled a gray cloud of smoke.
"It doesn't matter why, or how, it just matters that it happens, and we have to stop it."
End Chapter 7
Authors Note: This chapter, in my opinion, contains some more than normal violence. It's not violence in the kind that you watch, or have read so far, it deals with the horrors of war that plague soldiers, marines, and sailors, of all militaries. I personally abhor violence against noncombatants and more important children, but as terrible as it is, that stuff happens. Anyway, thank you for reading, please read and review, no flames please constructive criticism only. Hope you look forward to the next chapter and sorry for the wait, Nanowrimo '09 is in full swing and it is incredibly taxing on me.
Thanks,
Big Mack
