Ambrose

Brunhof, Principality of Gallia

July 8, 1935

Lieutenant Von Rosen's squadron safely arrived at the town of Brunhof. His formation received orders from their commander as they entered radio range to rally his squadron into the town center. The situation in Brunhof grew dire by the hour as the town was undergoing a hasty evacuation being organized by its mayor. Commander of the 371st, Colonel Marberg assumed overall military command upon his arrival a few hours earlier.

"Gentlemen, we are in for some shit." was the greeting Colonel Marberg issued to the officers of Squadron 1 as he pulled his larger map case that hung from his hip and laid it atop of the hood on his staff car.

The gathered officers leaned closer to examine the Colonel's map. It illustrated the marked town of Brunhof in the middle of the Kloden Wildwood. There were four additional unit marks indicating Imperial Regiments under the 103rd Panzer Division east of Brunhof, the only indicated friendly unit marker present in the area was the single Militia Division drawn over the town itself to indicate their approximate location. A large trident of three, drawn arrows was the most distinguished feature on the Colonel's map, pointing to the militia division in Brunhof. The officers certainly noticed the markings and their concern grew as they realized the gravity of the situation.

Brunhof was a small town nestled in the Kloden Wildwood. A series of stone and dirt roads ran through it, indicating its history as a former trading center during the Medieval era. Its town square was a mess of vehicles, both military and civilian alike. Refugee villagers and townspeople were flowing through the square, frantically attempting to escape the incoming conflict with whatever belongings they could carry on a wheelbarrow or their own hands. Lurchers and APC's were jammed on the road as they traveled against the flow of refugees, a cacophony of shouts and horns filled the air as vehicle commanders were desperately trying to command the panicked refugees off of the roads. Dismounted Dragoons and ragged Gallian Militiamen were seen everywhere in the center, either ushering the refugees onwards towards the road leading west, or moving to the fronts with the vehicles. Colonel Marberg's headquarters was established to a side of the square within a small inn, telephone wires spilled out of its windows and doorways, running along corners of the sidewalk all throughout the town and to the defensive perimeter. His staff car was parked outside of it where his officers were gathered.

"High Command believes this is another push for Randgriz, but this time from the south coming from the Wildwoods. The Imps have already overwhelmed the Militia battalions in their initial positions north, east and south of Brunhof." the Colonel's finger pointing to each of the former positions of where the Militia Battalions once stood. The defensive perimeter of Brunhof recently shrunk due to the aggressive probing attacks done by the Imperial Armored Division, their panzers inflicting harsh casualties against the lightly armed Militia units. "The Imps want to take this town with its road terminus to lead their panzers straight to the South Vasel River. If Brunhof falls, Randgriz risks an armored division striking at its underbelly." Colonel Marberg's finger traced along a prominent road that led from Brunhof to one of the lesser bridges crossing the Vasel.

The leader of the 371st was a feared legend among tankers and cavalrymen of the Gallian Army. Colonel Vicentus-Kluusvelt Von Marberg stood tall, skinny and possessed the gritty aura of a combat-tested leader. A tank commander during the First Europan War, Marberg was an ace commander, known for his rapid hit-and-run assaults and deadly ambushes against unsuspecting Imperial columns; a commander more than qualified to lead the 371st Dragoons. A shaved head exposed a deep scar from the left of his scalp that connected to where his left eye once was, now covered with a black eye patch; sustained from an Imperial lance tip from the First Europan War. His right eye held a monocle that had him reek of distinguished Gallian Nobility, the thickness of his lens magnified a shimmering blue eye behind it. He wore a dark blue motorcycle coat that reached just past his knees, the proud 371st Unicorn Insignia sewn neatly on his left shoulder. Wrapped about his waist was a black leather belt which hung his T-MAG 1 SMG.

"Our job is to hold the town with what's left of the Militia here and buy the Southern Army as much time as possible to send reinforcements to meet the attack." the Colonel continued,

"Sir, how long are we expected to hold this for?" Ambrose asked in his soft-spoken voice, his finger resting atop of the marked town,

"For as long as possible." the Colonel curtly replied.

*

Squadron 1 along with Lieutenant Brandt's Weapons Squad was the second group of the 371st to arrive in Brunhof. Colonel Marburg's Headquarters Squadron was already established in the town square, his staff working frantically to coordinate with what was left of the Brunhof Militia's leadership and consolidating the town's resources for its defense. The Dragoons fought as motorized infantry, capable of moving quickly wherever they were needed on a battlefield. Dragoons were essential in flanking and exploiting breaches made by attacking armor or infantry, relying on speed and surprise to prevent Imperial formations from reorganizing. For this situation, Gallian Army Command dispatched the 371st to Brunhof first as they were the fastest unit in South Gallia that could respond in time. Gallian APCs with mounted machineguns were the Dragoons' prime movers, their reconnaissance vehicles consisted of the recently-fielded Lurcher armored cars mounted with light 40mm cannons. Weapons' Squads of the 371st fielded Mortar APCs that were specialized in providing indirect fire for any Dragoon offensive. Defensive tactics wasn't Von Rosen's specialty, but he was tasked by the Colonel to organize his troops along the town's perimeter and reinforce current Militia positions.

"Ross, you and your men move out to the north, Elliot, you take yours to the east. Brandt, you have command of our Weapons Squad, pull the escort infantry to fortify the south, leave a second to keep the mortar-tracks here, that way, they can respond to any flank to provide fire support. I'll take Recon to the north first and check its approaches then work my way clockwise until I reach the south. Start getting abatis* fields set just beyond your sectors, we don't have the shells to spare so break open your pioneer kits and start downing the nearest trees once you all are in position. Questions?"

Von Rosen's mind was flashing back to the hours of endless lectures back at Lanseal about the 'Art of Defense.' Take every opportunity to make your enemies fight without their own strengths, deprive them of it and you may turn the fight into your favor. Ambrose knew that he had to find a way to slow their tanks or at least keep them from rushing the remaining Militia positions. Downing the Wildwood trees along their perimeter in accordance with the Gallian Engineers' Doctrine was his first solution that he could think of. The heavy Wildwood trees would be more than enough to halt an Imperial Tank and force them to keep at a distance.

"What of the evacuation?" Brandt asked,

"We can't spare anyone for it. Leave it to their mayor and our staff to deal with it. We need every Dragoon on the perimeter." Ambrose responded,

Brandt simply nodded once, glancing over his shoulder just in time to watch a group of Militiamen pushing a large hay cart that was overflowing with a family's worth of trunks and baggage out of the town.

"Keep on the Regiment's net for orders and updates. The Militia along the perimeter are to take your orders." Von Ambrose then closed his map case and his fellow officers followed suit with their own maps.

"When are we going to expect ammun--" Rosswell's voice was suddenly interrupted by a deafening whistle of an Imperial shell crashing into the town square. The ground violently shook as the shell detonated, splitting the cobbled road and debris into the air. The first shell flipped a civilian truck onto its side, ridding its flank with shrapnel and crumpling its cab. The huddled officers dove to the ground to avoid the shrapnel whizzing through the air. Showered by debris, Ambrose was quick to return to his feet, leaning down to his other peers, he shouted over the screaming chaos,

"You have your orders! Get moving to your sectors! Now!"

Turning around he climbed aboard his armored car. His officers followed suit, quickly sprinting to their own vehicles. Screams of panic now filled the air as the refugees suddenly picked up their speed to escape or hugged the walls for some sort of cover. A second shell was heard, seconds following the first blast. The round found itself bursting into the second floor of an apartment building, its concussive blast shattering the nearby windows. The vehicles already moving suddenly picked up their speed, crashing into any abandoned cart that was left on the road, the refugees and soldiers still catching themselves on the street parted to the sides to avoid being crushed by the rush of vehicles. Von Rosen's Lurcher revved aggressively as it began to pull off onto the road leading north, Von Rosen hunched over the railing from atop his turret, his arm frantically waving off to the side to get the passersby ahead of him out of the way. His own shouting was drowned out by the roar of engines and panicked screams of the civilians fleeing the town center.

Ross's Half Track followed right behind Von Rose's, following his weave to continue avoiding blockages of luggage and carts on the road. Another shell struck a building above the two as they roared down the road, the two officers hunching into their turrets to avoid a falling brick smashing their heads.

Ambrose's vehicle comms blared to life, "Rose, it's Ross, we're right behind you—"

"All stations, keep on your mission. Imperial artillery is ranging the city. Expect more shells later today."

The crackled voice of the Colonel was sounded in all of the Regiment's tuned radios.

"Squadron 1 acknowledges all. Proceeding to Brunhof perimeter." replied Ambrose, his fingers pressing his throat microphone against his next.

"This is Weapons Lead. We're in position at Center. Some scratched paint, but no casualties."

"Motors 2 reaching eastern position. Meeting militia officers here now to assess the defense situation here."

"Motors 1 with Recon Lead. Reaching northern positions just about now."

"Recon Lead copies all. We'll push out of the perimeter. Start cutting, fellas."

*

The north portion of the Brunhof perimeter was scarred with shell craters and splintered trees. The 103rd Panzer Division was notorious for prefacing their armored attacks with a deadly barrage; dozens of shells simultaneously striking militia positions, followed by tanks and infantry was their M.O. The remnants of the Militia Battalion here took advantage using the craters for new defensive positions, a series of foxholes and slit trenches freshly dug dotted the landscape. The paved road leading into the town was marked with craters and tire tracks with a few fallen trees laying on top of the road. The infantry of Motors 1 were quick to dismount and join the lines of militia troops on the defense. Some of the Dragoon non-commissioned officers already took the initiative to start digging up some large enough shell craters to park their half tracks into their craters to convert them into pillboxes.

Von Rosen's Recon squad proceeded down the road and pushed further north. His squad consisted of three Lurcher Armored Cars and a single MG Half Track with a complement of infantry. Ambrose knew that if his recon squad kept on the road they would be susceptible to a panzer attack, he knows full well that a Lurcher seldom stands a head on encounter against any Imperial armor. His convoy pulled off the road and advanced 500 meters into the forest.

"Recon, form a perimeter here and dismount. Pull the Track MG, we're proceeding on foot."

With Von Rosen's orders, his sergeants quickly acknowledged and began executing his plan. In near-choreographed motion, his Lurcher cars quickly formed a triangular perimeter with the MG Half Track placing itself in the center. The infantry dismounted and rallied over towards Von Rosen's vehicle. At once, all ragnite engines shut off, leaving only the soft audible commands and the hushed footsteps of the men. The Lurchers with their cannons and machine guns formed the perimeter, their crews now responsible for its security. Von Rosen fished out his Gallian-1 Carbine and whipped open the folding stock. Grabbing his binoculars and map case, he hopped off his vehicle to watch the infantry section congregate around him.

Like a preacher spreading his sermon, the men instinctively knelt down, the sergeants placed closest to the officer, ready to receive their next set of orders. Von Rosen slung his rifle and opened his map case to place it down for his subordinate leaders to observe.

"We should be about half a kilometer away from the main perimeter. 500 meters east of the North Road. Dragoon's, we will continue pushing north until we can observe the enemy. We need to know where their positions are for Ross's men and to register targets for our mortars. Keep your spacing and eyes scanning. Signal when you see something. Maas, you're Lead here, if we're not back in the hour, pull back to the perimeter. Questions?"

"No sir." came the unison response.

"We move in two. Check ammo and weapons." With that, Von Rosen and his men all rose together. The senior Dragoons gathered their troops, each doing their own checks. A few clicks and clanks of their rifles as they loaded their weapons and the occasional chatter. Ambrose approached the driver side of his Lurcher and reached into the cab, producing a handheld comm. Plugging his throat mic into it, he ran a quick comm check.

The 371st were one of few outfits that were considered "elite" if not, "of higher quality" than the average Gallian line unit. Having pioneered mobile tactics in the early 30's, the Dragoons were proud of themselves for their mastery of rapid assault tactics and scouting. Each Dragoon was indoctrinated to be able to fight as a team but capable of fighting by themselves if the need arises. Their uniforms were distinguished from the regulars, donning dark blue smocks that gave them a raggedy appearance. Dragoons saw no need to keep on helmets, their metal sheen would be quick to betray their positions; soft field caps and side caps were the norm among the 371st, the officers and NCO's having appropriated side caps as the only mark of leadership in field environments.

Von Rosen pressed a switch on the comm mounted on his hip.

"Moving out now."

His team and ten Dragoons stepped off deeper into the woods. As his formation filed single line out of the perimeter of the Lurchers, the infantry quickly fanned out to get their spacing, enough so that one bullet would not take down two men. Ambrose was in the lead, peering ahead into the dense sea of trees for any sign of enemy activity. Tank tracks left in the dirt, splintered trees or footprints were sure signs of Imperial movements. Ambrose remembered the mark on the Colonel's map of the former Militia positions in the north of Brunhof. As expected, he and his men saw boot prints headed south, telltale signs of the Militia's route earlier today. They began to encounter the dead left behind.

"Militia sir." whispered one of the sergeants as they walked past scattered bodies. All shot in the back as they attempted to flee towards Brunhof. A few of the Dragoons knelt by some of the nearest dead to check for signs of life or what spare ammo that wasn't scavenged by the Imperials.

The patrol did their best to sustain noise discipline. Each of them watched their next step, avoiding the wayward branch or a pile of dry leaves or pine needles that would crunch too loudly. The soft stepping of the patrol was suddenly interrupted by a distant 'whrrrrrr.' A hum of a ragnite engine.

"Panzer! Get down!"

With the shouted whisper, the patrol scattered and dove behind a tree or a brush to conceal themselves. Von Rosen ducked behind a tree stump and looked behind him to ensure himself that the rest of the patrol was taking cover. Looking back ahead, his dark eyes anxiously darted around to gauge what direction the engine ahead was coming from. The metallic clanking of the tracks and the snapping of trees and brushes being crunched was now audible. The vehicle was coming closer as the hum of its ragnite engine grew louder. The Dragoons were ill-equipped to take on a panzer, their only best option was to riddle its exposed radiator with their weapons or to disable its tracks with what few stick grenades they had on hand. A sergeant in the patrol was already signaling to the others to pass their stick grenades to a man, a corporal was already bundling several grenades together.

A tree collapsed in full view of the patrol and emerged from the taller brush as an Imperial Tank Destroyer. Its low silhouette rocked left and right as it trundled over the fallen tree and its tracking returned to ground as it crawled through the woods. From the brush also emerged a squad of Imperial infantry, clad in their silvery plate armor. They numbered twelve in total, serving as an escort to the tank destroyer. The vehicle ground to a sudden halt, the glow of its radiator dimming just slightly as the engine now idled, the infantry formed a loose perimeter around the tank, their visored heads scanning the woods. A loud 'click' could be heard as the hatch of the tank destroyer opened up, emerged as its commander, clad in the iconic black uniform of an Imperial Officer, his scarlet half-cape wafted behind him as he popped out.

"We'll halt here and wait for the rest of the column to catch up." The officer spoke to one of the Imperial Soldiers, his voice echoing through the stillness of the forest, the soldier responding with a muffled acknowledgement and a nod. Their postures were lax, the Imperial Soldiers had their rifles and submachineguns resting over their shoulders. Seldom few were now scanning their perimeter as most were lounging around the tank, two of them lifted up their visors to share a cigarette. The Tank Destroyer and its escorts were but less than fifty meters away from the patrol, the dense brush and trees served as perfect cover and concealment for Von Rosen and his men.

The arrogance. Ambrose thought to himself as he watched the two Imperials smoking. He slinked further to the ground and away from his cover. He turned and looked towards his nearest Dragoon, he reached over to tap him on the shoulder for his attention.

"Form a firing line. Pass it along." he whispered, the sergeant nodding as he quickly rolled over to the next man.

Von Rosen slips over to the opposite direction to the other Dragoon, "Firing line, on me." The whispered order then quickly spread to the rest of the patrol who were currently scattered. The few that were further back quietly came up towards Von Rosen and the others, a single line of Dragoons gradually formed within a minute, their carbines fixated towards the patrol. The last to form up was the Dragoon with the dismounted machinegun from the half track, settling the weapon to the officer's left. Ambrose's few NCO's then started to go up and down the firing line, whispering their assigned targets. The imposing cannon of the Tank Destroyer was faced parallel to the firing line of the patrol, but it would only mean seconds for it to traverse and turn its gun and hull machine gun towards the Gallians once they knew that they were about to be attacked.

Ambrose was taking stock of the situation, if he engages now, they risk compromising their original mission of finding the Imperial line. Should he evade, he will allow this Tank Destroyer and its column to form up and prepare what is likely another probing attack on the northern perimeter. He may disengage and retreat his squad back to the defensive line and warn Lieutenant Rosswell of the attack, but he knows that their 40mm guns would barely scratch their armor when faced head on; they may not withstand another probing attack, especially if this column consists of Tank Destroyers. This one vehicle and its escorts are currently isolated and cut off, this is their best chance to potentially halt their attack.

Ambrose glances to his left, catching the eye of one of his sergeants who responded with a thumbs up. His flank was ready to fire. To his right, a corporal made eye contact, a bundled grenade held closely to his chest as he gave his lieutenant a nod that his right flank was also ready. With this confirmation, Ambrose was the first on his feet, his hands clutching tightly on his Gallian-1 carbine as he dashed forward of his patrol. Advancing ten meters, he halted against a tree, his carbine leaning against it to stabilize his aim, its ironsights laying square on the head of the nearest smoking Imperial Infantryman.

'Bang!'

His bullet struck home, clanging the victim's helmet and rocking his head away from the force of the impact, the Imperial collapsed instantly. In the next second, the entire Imperial group fixated their eyes on what was a lone Gallian Officer standing behind a tree with his rifle pointed towards them. Behind Ambrose, erupted the firing line, a rapid symphony of carbines cracking in the air quickly followed his first shot. Von Rosen's finger reflexively settled on his trigger, squeezing his second shot on the next Imperial soldier. The machine gun then opened up, its rhythmic fire drowned out the smaller carbines.' In near precision and unison, the Imperial squad crumbled to the ground, sparks flying off of their plated armor as rounds shredded their uniforms. Eight of the dozen fell instantly, the remainder attempted to flee for cover behind their Tank Destroyer only to be cut down harshly by the machine gun fire. More sparks flew as rounds started hitting the armored hull of the Tank Destroyer, the designated Dragoon managed to strike the officer at his hatch, but it was only a wounding shot. The Imperial Commander was quick enough to retreat into the relative safety of his tank, the loud 'clang!' of his hatch closing.

The Tank Destroyer roared back to life, the glow of the ragnite engine brightened as the vehicle's treads started to churn the dirt underneath. The vehicle is now attempting to traverse towards the Gallian firing line. Ambrose's eyes widened as he quickly looked back to his men,

"Right wing! Advance! Left wing! Fire on the tank!" Ambrose barked as he quickly broke his cover and advanced in a sprint to the Tank Destroyer. The right wing of the patrol quickly rose and charged towards the tank. The left wing intensified their firing, the machingunner firing quick bursts against the tank destroyer, aiming for the vehicle's driver slit and its optics. The Dragoons were especially trained to aim for an enemy tank's viewports and optics in an effort to 'button up' and 'blind' the tank to prevent it from effectively retaliating. The Tank Destroyer's hull machinegun opened up, its rapid fire rate clearly outmatched the Gallian machine gunner's. Firing blindly, the Imperial MG's rounds were well above the positions of the prone Dragoons, cutting down a number of branches as the rounds hissed over their heads.

Ambrose was closest to the tank, the vehicle almost facing its cannon to his men of the left wing. Sparks were springing around the area of the tank destroyer's view ports, dimples left by their rounds were tightly concentrated around them as the left wing desperately continues to disrupt the crew's efforts to aim a shell.

"Kaboom!"

The tremendous blast of the Imperial Tank Destroyer's gun knocked Ambrose clear off his feet. The traveling shell screamed over the heads of the Dragoons' on left wing, the armor piercing round disintegrating a tree just behind them and cutting down the one behind it. Von Rosen's world was suddenly muffled as the concussion of the cannon's blast threw him back a meter and nearly imploded his ears. His chest was in immense pain as he writhed and struggled to get back on his feet. The firing from the left wing paused for but a moment and the Gallian machinegun roared back to life, the soldiers quickly recovering and resuming their rifle fire on the tank's sights.

A strong arm quickly hooked underneath Ambrose's to scoop him back to his feet, the soldiers from the right quickly caught up with him. "Comon!" Ambrose grunted as he stumbled back forward, his one hand had miraculously not let go of his carbine this whole time. Regaining his sprint, he got point blank to the Tank Destroyer. The firing coming from the left wing immediately halted as they watched the right wing close the distance on the tank. Ambrose nearly collapsed against the hull of the Tank Destroyer, its hull MG still firing blindly into the woods ahead. Ambrose brought the carbine back up to his chest and he thrusted his barrel into the driver's slit. Von Rosen rapidly emptied his magazine into the port, the muffled blasts echoing inside the tank as his rounds were heard impacting flesh and metal within. His other soldiers could hear a muffled cry inside as Von Rosen now silenced the tank's hull MG.

"Clear the tank!" the shout came from above Ambrose as the corporal wielding the bundled grenade was pulling the cord on the handle. Ambrose shoved himself away from the tank and staggered back, turning away and running. The remaining men of the right wing sprinted past the tank destroyer to ensure that there were no additional Imperial infantry coming to the tank's aid. Dropping the bundled grenade atop of the ragnite radiator, the corporal quickly leapt off the vehicle and ran for his own cover.

"Dowwn!" the soldier shouted as everybody by the tank dropped to their stomachs. A second later, a tremendous explosion erupted from the Tank Destroyer, the vehicle nearly disintegrating in a vast mixture of blue and red flames. Pieces of armor and tread scattered everywhere, flaming pieces of metal showered the immediate area. Von Rosen's body quivered and shook once again as he felt his second painful, concussive blast as he was caught too close for comfort from the exploding tank.

Fighting for a gasp of breath, Ambrose climbed back to his own feet, adrenaline now flowing through his veins, temporarily alleviating him from the concussive pain in his chest. "Form a perimeter! Now!" his own shout was still muffled as his ears were still ringing. With a resounding gasp, Von Rosen finally won a breath of air, his head quickly swiveling left and right to assess the situation. The ground around him was littered with Imperial corpses, the rest of his patrol recovered and took cover, looking outward in anticipation for enemy reinforcements.

The left wing quickly turned around to watch for any enemy movement from behind. The patrol suffered no casualties and had managed to wipe out an Imperial squad and a tank destroyer. The blast from the cannon and the second blast of the tank destroyer surely betrayed their position. Von Rosen knew he had to move.

"Check the bodies! We have one minute!" he shouted as he walked over towards the Imperial he personally shot. Two other Dragoons broke from the defense perimeter to check their nearest bodies. Von Ambrose's hands quickly fished the pockets of the dead Imp, producing a single document which contained the victim's paybook and identification papers. Eyes noticing the Imperial Insignia on the cover of the book, he quickly stuffed it into his breast pocket. Changing out his carbine's empty magazine for a fresh one, he looked around once more and to his satisfaction that his Dragoons had already formed a defensive perimeter.

"Is anybody hurt!" Ambrose deafy shouted,

"None sir! We're all up!" came the response,

It took Von Rosen a second to process the muffled reply and he gave a simple nod to himself. "Corporal! Take your men ba--"

Ambrose's order was rudely interrupted by a burst of Imperial machinegun fire, its rounds hissing just past the officer's face as he dove back down to the earth for cover. The tracers flew from the direction of the right wing team. The Gallians replied with their carbines, returning fire and sending their rounds into the woods ahead of them.

"Imps are here!" came a cry,

Elements of the Imperial column that the tank destroyer was waiting for finally caught up to the Gallian patrol. Muzzle flashes were seen erupting from the dense brush as the Dragoons were eagerly attempting to shoot back at them. A rocket was suddenly spotted screaming out from the Imperial side of the woods, the projectile finding its home into the trunk of a tree that a Dragoon was using for cover. The explosion sent the soldier flying back a few feet, but the tree absorbed the killing effects.

"Fuck! They have lancers!" one panicked Dragoon said,

Von Rosen returned to his feet to join the corporal's firing line. "Corporal, get your men back with the left wing!" he yelled as he took up his carbine to fire a few shots at the muzzle flashes he was able to spot. Several Imperial Soldiers were quickly spotted emerging from their concealment but were efficiently cut down by the Gallian Dragoons before they could reach their next bit of cover.

The menacing roar of another ragnite engine could be heard again. Out emerges another Imperial tank destroyer, its hull MG already spraying bullets into the Gallian line. "Panzer! Get down!" cried another Dragoon as they were suddenly suppressed. The corporal was swift in ordering his men to go in pairs to return to their original line. The second Imperial Tank destroyer was still fixated on firing on the forward line which allowed the men to sprint back.

The situation worsened as Von Rosen did not anticipate the rest of the Imperial column to respond so quickly. They must have gotten close to the actual Imperial lines. Additional Imperial infantry were emerging from the woods, using the Tank Destroyer as fire support. The vehicle then began to inch itself forward to continue providing its escorts cover. The last of the corporal's team broke free from their firing line to retreat back to the original one. Just in time as the Tank Destroyer's cannon launched a shell to where Von Rosen just was, a huge explosion of dirt and splinters was seen. A sudden, second cannon blast was heard, the shell targeting where they just were. A second tank destroyer appeared to have joined in.

The original firing line quickly turned back around and began firing into the woods, their rounds hissing over the dead Imperials that they first slew. Von Rosen quickly knelt behind the machinegunner who was still keeping his bursts controlled, doing his best to apply rounds in a wide arc of fire in an effort to prevent Imperial soldiers from further advancing. It was only a matter of time however for the Tank Destroyers to get with in firing range of the line of dragoons again.

Von Rosen flicked the switch on his comm, "Recon Base, this Recon Lead, can you hear me?!" he shouted as he stared back to keep a lookout on the advancing tanks.

"This is Recon Base, I can hear you, what's happening?" came a static response,

"In contact with the Imperial column, I need you to raise Weapons Lead to get positioned for the north, now!" Ambrose said as he laid down his carbine and produced his map case.

Opening the folded case up, his eyes quickly darted to where the northern defense line was. In the midst of the gunfire, Von Rosen was concentrating on counting the grid squares and calculating the distance they traveled. A finger darted to a spot on the map, his adrenaline-filled mind already running another calculation for a fire mission.

"Recon Base, relay the following to Weapons Lead" he shouted,

"Recon Base ready to receive--"

"Distance from position 'A'...Five, two, zero...Azimuth from position 'A'..Three, five, five. Grid. Fire immediately!"

"Recon Base to Recon Lead. Distance from 'A', Five-two-zero, Azimuth from 'A', three-five-five. Fire Immediately. Relaying now."

"Recon Lead. Out."

Flicking off the switch of his comm, he quickly stowed his map away and picked up his carbine. Spotting the first Imperial Soldier emerging from the brush, he quickly aimed his shot and fired three rounds, one struck the Imp's leg, the second narrowly missed, but his third found home in the skull. The soldier quickly collapsed. Von Rosen quietly hoped and prayed that the Weapons Team was quick enough to reach their designated firing position 'A' to send off their first shells. He needed some form of indirect firepower to delay the Imperials from advancing and to give his patrol needed time to fully escape back to their base.

"Orders, sir!" the Sergeant cried, looking onto his leader, begging for the word to break off the engagement. The roar of the two ragnite engines just ahead of them was clear to the patrol that they were outmatched in every way. The rifle fire from the Imperials was beginning to increase in intensity as more and more Imperial soldiers were forming up their firing line to match the Gallians'.

"I got mortars on the way. We break once the shells are landing!" Ambrose shouted to his sergeant as he quickly gained onto his feet. In a crouch, he started to move to his right, traveling just behind his reformed firing line. "Keep firing! Make 'em keep their heads down!" he ordered. He knew that they would likely be dangerously low on ammunition after this engagement but he did not dare risk the Imperial forces gaining fire superiority.

Minutes seemed like hours as Von Rosen could watch as more and more muzzle flashes were seen on the Imperial side. A mixture of inaccurate rifle and SMG fire could be observed coming from the Imperials, their own fire achieving the desired effect on them as they feared losing their own heads to achieve an aimed shot. Bullets continue to crackle and hiss over the Dragoon patrol's heads. The first tank destroyer crashed through the brush, its hull MG firing directly into the patrol's firing line. Kicking up a load of dirt into the faces of the Dragoons, a number of them quickly hugged the ground or pressed themselves up against a tree to avoid the flow of bullets now finding themselves closer.

"MG! Button up the tank destroyer!" Von Rosen shouted,

Without voicing a response, the gunner quickly affixed his aim to the second tank destroyer. Within seconds, sparks were erupting from the driver's viewport of the tank destroyer, the hull MG fire now drifting further above the Gallians' heads, the tempo of fire now becoming more sporadic. The Gallian MG was accurate enough for a few bullets to deliver sparks and metal dust through the port to make the driver halt his fire for seconds at a time. The second tank destroyer was beginning to emerge from the bush.

A faint whistle was suddenly heard, rapidly increasing its volume and escalating into a scream overhead of the Gallian Dragoons. In perfect unison, four explosions erupted just behind the Tank Destroyers. The blast managed to maim several Imperial troops as evidenced by a flying torso. Seconds followed as another four blasts erupted, this time, finding themselves closer to the Tank Destroyers. The gunfire from the Imperial side fell to silence as the Tank Destroyers in a panic began to back up their vehicles.

"Retreat now! Back to the Recon Base!" Ambrose shouted just before the third volley of explosions occurred. In a matter of seconds the Dragoons quickly picked themselves up and dashed away from the skirmish. Several more volleys of mortar shells landed atop the armored group, the barrage served enough to blunt the armored column's advance successfully.

"Recon Base, this is Recon Lead, we're headed back to you now!"

Ambrose quickly looked back, his eyes doing their best to spot all of the retreating dragoons. He accounted for all ten of them. The Imperial Tank Destroyers resumed their firing, engaging the empty positions the Dragoons just left. To Von Rosen's satisfaction, he thinks that the Imperial column was facing a far stronger force than expected. The enemy soldiers began resuming their suppressive fire on the abandoned Gallian line, at that point he knew that he bought the northern defensive line some more time.

*