Hi everyone. I know it's been a while since I updated but I have been a little busy at home. Anyway, now I have some free time so I can get this done and post it.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 68: Damocles, Pt. 1
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George patted himself down inside the tank as another burst of frigid air blew in through the open turret. His loader, Corporal Gordon Fox, turned to look at him.
"Cold sir?" George gave him a flat look.
"What gave it away? Was it the uncharacteristic chattering of my teeth? The way I constant rub my hands up and down my sleeves? I'll tell you now, is Corke doesn't fix that damn engine and get the heater working I'm going to go outside and fix him. At this rate I'd be willing to give a medal to anyone who can bring my temperature up a few degrees. I don't care how they do it, even if they set my pants on fire to do it."
Fox chuckled at that as suddenly a loud clang and a colorful tirade of swear words came from the area behind the turret and a grease covered Sergeant Kay Corke poked his head into the turret, a rueful expression on his face. George gave him a stern glance but the driver/mechanic shook his head.
"Don't know how it happened Major, but the engine is a damn mess. Bearings are almost siezed, the drive rod and the casing is damn near cracked clean through, and the radiator is full of ice." George cursed.
"I told that ass of a mechanic at base not to use regular water in the radiator. Didn't that turkey get the weather report that said 'unseasonable cold snap expected'?" Corke shook his head.
"Spoke to the guy before we advanced to our current predicament. Said it was a calculated risk as he was completely out of that special coolant. Odds are we're not the only tank knocked out in the cold with a siezed engine." George sighed and turned to his gunner and second in command.
"Chuck, hand me that radio so I can bite someone's head off. Depending on their tone with me I might do it literally." Lieutenant Charles 'Chuck' Bosniac nodded and warmed up the radio before handing the transmitter to George who grimaced as his hand touched the ice cold metal and yet another blast of cold air found its way into the tank.
"This is tank Echo Two-Niner to Headquarters. Come in HQ."
"HQ to E29, what is your current situation?"
"We're out of action. Engine is busted and radiator is frozen." The was an incredulous curse from the other end of the line.
"How the hell?! E29 you're the sixteenth tank to report that same damn problem. Is there a problem with the MT-32s?" George sighed.
"No, nothing's wrong with the tank itself, just a bad choice on the engine coolant. Mechanics put regular distilled water instead of de-icing coolant in the radiator. Anyway, when can we expect a replacement?"
"E29, what is your current position?" George checked his map and then glanced around outside then keyed the radio.
"We're just about where we should have been. I have a farmhouse on my right, and I see the outline of a small town on my left." There was silence on the other end.
"HQ? You there?"
"E29, has your radio been on long?"
"Just a few minutes. It had to warm up, why?"
"Three battalions of Rotarian hold-outs launched a counter-attack out from Ekateri and have pushed the front line back to Sevastos. Effective immediately you're on the front lines!" George went wide-eyed, as did every member of his crew and he turned back to where Corke had been and heard a hurried rapping with tools.
"Corke!"
"I heard Major! I'll get this bucket running even if I have to get out and push!" George turned to his turret crew.
"Load all weapons! AP for the main, Incendiary for the secondary! Corke! I don't mind the engine taking time but can we at least get the heater going quickly? I swear I'm starting to see icicles forming on Dexter's nose!" The bow gunner, Corporal Ambrose Dexter, a young man who's most noticable feature was his large nose and the bushy moustache underneath, gave a flimsy chuckle.
"Yeah Major, laugh it up. You know, I once drove six hours across Syllia to hear you perform before the war?" George chuckled as Dexter unwittingly walked into the joke.
"Yeah, and your nose made it in five. In the meantime Dexter, see if you can't pry yourself from your seat long enough to step out back and help Corke get the engine fixed. Failing that, I expect you to help him push. He isn't exactly a spring chicken, you know." The young man nodded and popped the hatch to exit the tank and his footsteps echoed as he clambered over the outside to reach the engine compartment. After a moment, George rose from his position and clambered out of the turret, binoculars in hand, and scanned the surrounding area.
As far as the eye could see, white snow blanketed the ground and even more snow was falling by the second. The old half-collapsed barn was just barely visible in the distance and even further away lights from a church bell tower could faintly be made out. He glanced behind the turret to see the two men working on the engine.
"Corke. I see a town in the distance but the barn is closer; if you can get the engine working, how long can it function without coolant? Could we get inside that old barn and find shelter?" Corke stopped working for a moment and set aside the small welding torch and then nodded.
"It's possible. Of course, if we can defrost the radiator and liquify the coolant, and keep it liquid, we should be able to make it to the town in the distance. We may be behind enemy lines but the town is still Tellanian. I have little doubt they would give us a hand. Once repairs are complete, we should cause as much havoc as possible. Something you should be well aquainted with, eh Major?" George chuckled.
"One thing at a time. If I remember the map correctly, either the 222nd Engineers or the 308th King's Rifles are stationed there. Then again if they were pulled back or relieved we may also have the 82nd or 84th Federal Paratroops for company." Chuck sighed.
"I guess I'd better brush up on my Tellanian. You know, less than forty percent of the Federation speaks Syllian? And out of those, less than eight percent can speak without an overly thick accent." George sighed and turned to Chuck.
"Never mind brushing up on it. If we can get there we can get sme help. Tellanian or Syllian we're all on the same side."
At that moment, a noise was heard from the back followed by another tirade of swear words as Corke poked his head back into the turret.
"No dice sir, engine is confirmed shot. Twelve out of the twenty pistons and valves in the engine are sheared clean from the cold. The engine, and thus the tank, is kaput."
George swore and then looked around at his crew and sighed.
"I suppose there's no helping it. Everyone bundle up nice and tight and take what ammunition we can. Looks like we're proceeding on foot. Since the tank has no heater, it would be borderline stupidity to remain in this freezer. At least with the town there is a possibility of heat and shelter."
As the crew nodded in agreement, Corke stuck his head back in.
"Excuse me sir, but you may want to see this." He then withdrew his head from the turret and started yelling something. George, curious and angry, rose from his seat and glanced out to see an astonishing sight.
There, on the barely visible main road, was line upon line of Tellanian soldiers. The carried rifles mostly but others drug machineguns and litters filled with supplies and medical equipment through the snow. As soon as George could see them clearly, an officer in the lead spotted the tank and called a halt to the march and approached the tank.
Immediately George dismounted the tank and saluted the officer who in turn saluted by raising his right hand in greeting. There, on his glove, George caught sight of a red star sewn into the glove and grimaced. He had heard of these soldiers.
If you believed Federal propaganda, they were traitors willing to do whatever was nessessary, including wholesale murder, to get what they wanted. There was also another side, and another story, that these soldiers were locked up and called traitors because they disputed what some people called 'barbaric tactics' of the Federal Committee.
They were known as the Tellanian Unification Army. An army comprised of rebels, political prisoners, and all manner of others that the Federation was known to disavow and lock away when the peace was threatened. The officer before George had Colonel's markings but seemed to be rather polite.
"Greetings Major. What seems to be the trouble?" George nodded to the tank.
"The Rotarian Army, or what's left of it, has launched a surprise offensive. This area, as far as I'm aware, is now the front line and thanks to a mechanic's screw up back at HQ, my tank is out of action. The engine is shot, the hydraulics are gone, and the heater is out. I was just about to dismount my crew and head for that town there when you and your men showed up." The officer glanced at the tank and nodded.
"How fortunate then, that we should meet. For you see, we are also heading to that village to try and hold the line wherever possible. At the moment, my commanding officer, General Ivanov, is leading another counter attack farther north of here. It is likely that the enemy, upon encountering resistance there, will likely try to bypass them by coming south. That's where we come in." George nodded.
"The hounds to the hunters." The officer nodded.
"You and your crew are welcome to fall in with us if you like. If the Federal Army has done one thing right in these past few days it is take the offensive, not dig in. Though it pains Comrade Ivanov to say it, the Tellanian people owe it all to you Syllians. He has issued an order to all soldiers under his command: Not one step back. So then, how about it? Care for a night on the town? Maybe, if we're lucky, send a few of these Rotarian bastards to hell?"
George, despite knowing that the TUA was a force widely considered by most Tellanians to be a force of traitors, nodded and motioned for his crew to fall in with the Tellanian infantry. The officer was obviously pleased with his nod and then clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Excellent to hear. Now then Major, allow me to introduce myself, I am Colonel Sergei Korovitch, commander of the United 3rd Heavy Assault Brigade." George nodded.
"Major George de Launces, commander of the B Company, Syllian Royal Army, 412th Armored Corps. This is my second in command, Lieutenant Charles Bosniac, and my crew." Colonel Korovitch froze at the mention of 'de Launces' and looked at George closer.
"Did you say de Launces? As in the Syllian royal family?" George nodded.
"I am the eldest son of James de Launces." The officer looked stunned.
"You mean to tell me that the oldest son of the King and Queen is out here freezing his ass off with the rest of us?" George nodded.
"While most people wouldn't put it quite like that, yes, I am in fact a serving line officer. Now even my position as Crown Prince prevents me from serving my country." A soldier glanced at him and then smiled.
"Guess we may need to reevaluate our opinions of Syllia. We thought for sure that nobles and royals would be exempt from fighting and foist it all on the common man." George chuckled.
"I know of some, only a few mind you, nobles that would prefer it that way. But of course in my Father's opinion, rank means nothing when the nation is threatened. In his mind, a stint in the military is one hell of a character building experience. He once said he could immediately tell the difference between those who have simply hunted fox and those who have spent time in foxholes." The soldier chuckled.
"Well rest assured sir, most of us here have spent more time in foxholes than we'd like. At least until the General gave the order to advance and not dig an more foxholes. The General is hardly alone in his desire to see the Rotarians out of our homeland before summer sets in."
As George talked with Colonel Korovitch, Corke has headed over to the barn to relieve himself and then came running back with a look of surprise on his face.
"Major! We may not have to abandon the tank!"
"What are you talking about Corke?"
"There's a tractor in the barn there. I just need a moment to get it running and put the tank in neutral and I believe we can tow it." George chuckled at that.
"And here I thought my autoclub benefits were worthless. Free towing with every third offensive." The sound of soldiers laughing at the joke was cut short by a whistling sound that began growing louder. George immediately paled and turned to the Colonel.
"Incoming!" Korovitch turned to his men.
"Scatter!"
The soldiers had just landed in the ditches along the snow-covered road when a shell impacted the barn where Corke had gone to get the tractor. There was a massive explosion and the barn splintered and George felt splinters and dirt rain down on top of him. Immediately, a familiar ringing filled his ears and he grimaced in pain.
"M-or!" George cautiously raised his head and glanced around to see a crater where the barn had been.
"M-or!" George thought he heard something and slowly shook his head as if to clear something but for some reason the ringing didn't subside. He glanced to his right and didn't see anyone and then to his left and saw Chuck glancing at him with a worried expression.
"A- y-u al-g-t?" Gerorge clenched his teeth and shook his head again and then looked back to Chuck. He thought he said something but wasn't sure.
"S-r, ar- -ou al-ig-t?" Almost immediately, a Tellanian with a medic's insignia came over and checked him out and then pointed to something on George worriedly. George lifted his hand to the right side of his head and felt something wet. Pulling his hand back, he saw his hand had blood on it.
"H-'s bl-edi-g fr-m h-s r-ght ea-! He ma- hav- a con-us-i-n!" George frowned and rose and shook his head to the medic, despite the headache and looked to Chuck and felt relieved as the ringing slowly subsided.
"What was that?" Chuck looked relieved.
"I don't know sir. Shell just came out of nowhere. Corke... he's dead." George turned to Colonel Korovitch who was just rising and frowned.
"Colonel, any idea what that was?" Korovitch shook his head.
"No idea Major. My intel said the Rotarians didn't have any significant artillery presence. Either they managed to pull a division of artillery out of their asses, which, by the way, is a trick I would pay a year's salary to see; or my intel is... inaccurate." At that moment, Dexter who had been taking shelter in the tank came up with the radio headset pressed to one ear.
"Sir! We've got a big problem!" George looked to him.
"How big?" He spread his arms out.
"BIG. And heavily armed. A Rotarian locomotive that looks like it came out of a horror movie just blew across the border pulling over fifty-seven cars including a massive railgun that make the weapons that levelled Retorinc look like peashooters. From what I can hear from an obs plane overhead, there's an unarmed battleship somewhere in Mechanos' harbor because that gun sounds like the heavy hitters used on capital-class ships." George cursed.
"Any chance for an airstrike?" Dexter shook his head.
"Nope. The cars in surrounding the railgun are like mobile pillboxes. The obs plane is having to fly loop-the-loops even as it's transmitting-" Dexter stopped midsentence and gave a glance west before cursing.
"Dex? What's wrong?" Dexter set down the headset.
"Obs plane just went down. A shell they thought was a clear miss just detonated. Shockwave broke the aircraft in half." George looked to him.
"Shockwave? What the hell kind of rounds were they shooting?" Dex shrugged.
"Don't know, all I know is that an engineering unit we have checking an old bridge in the area had one of those new-fangled 'geiger counters' His Majesty invented and the damn thing lit up like a Yule tree." George frowned as he thought of what it meant.
"So then, Mechanos has created atomic shells for anti-air cannons? Hmm... what if that's not the only thing he's created nuclear rounds for?" Dex looked to him.
"You mean it's possible that the railgun could have atomic shells?" George nodded.
"We're pushing Mechanos' forces back. This small counter attack could have just been a chance to try and get a trump card drawn to use against us. We don't have a tank, but we do have a plan. If I recall the map correctly, there is a railroad bridge nearby. All we have to do is set some charges on the bridge, and when the train passes over them, we detonate it and send the entire thing into the chasm."
"That's a fair plan Major but, quick question, do we have any charges strong enough?" George smirked.
"Now Dex, don't tell me all those summers you spent during break from university were spent being idle? I remember you bragging that during grade school you were quite the pyromaniac." Dex glanced to George and nodded.
"Rest assured George, I am many things but never idle. Of course I still do some work with pyrotechnics but that is fireworks and little cherry bombs for pranks and entertainment. You're talking about a... well a bomb. A bomb big enough to destroy a bridge built to withstand several hundred tons of machinery travelling at high speed on an almost hourly basis." George nodded.
"Well, can you do it or not?" At that moment, Colonel Korovitch came forward.
"My men and I will give any help we can." Dex glanced at the soldiers and then to George and then smiled.
"Colonel, I'm going to need every man with a strong back to help me. I have an idea, but it requires literally every single cannon shell we have in the tank turret and hull magazine. We have some prototype thermite rounds that, if I can rig some wiring to, I could use them as cutting torches to destroy the supports of the bridge. However, the trick is that we cannons set the charges on the foot of the support columns and blow them, the bridge would stand long enough for the train to cross before falling. We have to place the charges on the legs almost right under the tracks."
"Which means we'd be in the path of an oncoming train that, for all intents and purposes, will not stop for anyone on the tracks." Dex nodded.
"I can rig the charges fairly quickly, the trick will be getting them up onto the bridge before the train arrives and keep them from shaking bad enough to prematurely detonate them." George nodded.
"We have our plan then. First we get to the town, make the charges, and then we advance further and set them to the bridge." Colonel Korovitch nodded to him and then pointed out several people.
"Vladinov! Dominik! Ressler! Help him offload those shells! Kapavin, get that wagon up here!" Three large brutes of men stepped out of the ranks, handed off their rifles and gear to others and then after a muffled curse, a rather lanky man with glasses came up looking sheepish.
"Colonel, the mules-" Korovitch uttered a colorful curse.
"Damn stubborn jackasses... FINE! Unhitch those abstinent creatures from the wagon and hitch some of those horses to it, Captain Danalov's cavalry regiment be damned! They want to ride into battle like the warriors of old? Let the jackass ride a jackass!"
Moments later four big horses came up pulling a wagon that had once been used to carry hay came rolling up alongside the tank. At a nod from Korovitch, the soldiers in the tank started unloading the magazines.
"Armor-piercing, high-explosive, shrapnel, incendiary, and last but not least, thermite. Let's hope we can make it in time."
At that moment, a loud, haunting train whistle echoed over the pass. George looked to Korovitch and then to Dex.
"That's one train I hope runs late."