RP: Taking It Back 4th "Motor Rifles" Company: The Armoured Shenanigans

[Jimmy]

Foss stared down at his little datapad as battle reports rolled in and swore quietly, “I need a new job after this.” he muttered, as he sat in his tent. Placing the datapad on his bed he got up and went outside to the pit fires where the rest of the company had gathered.

That was if you could call it a company. Mostly it was a collection of rag-tag other units put there in case the “real” companies needs replacements.

He warmed his hands next to an opened barrel with a merry little fire going inside it and sighed, it was unusual for him to be down but the recent mission by the other companies had left him rather disheartened.

"Hey boss-man, what are you thinking of?" Wespe asked as she met up with Foss. He was warming his hands from the fire in one of the barrels. "Well you know I could warm you up better don't you?" She asked and giggled.

Foss perked up as his gunner spoke "Just the rest of the brigade making idiots of themselves. Nothing we need to worry about." he said, "Wait until they let us off the chain, then they'll see some results without wasting half a troop of tanks." he laughed. A few of the other tankers sitting around other fires looked over with mildly concerned expressions, hearing Foss laugh usually meant something was about to happen.

"Yeah well, we could not think the man behind this would be such an idiot to send us here. Well I do not care as long as we get to be paid and survive. And shoot and kills stuff of course." She said and laughed. "Well most of guys around us are idiots, they are ex-criminal stoopids who are lucky to know how to shoot a gun. They then get Paragon training which they mostly ignore and just scrape through. They fancy themselves big-shoot mercs you know. I doubt that more than half-"

"Hey! That's us you know!" replied a nearby tanker at his own fire, looking somewhat hurt. By this time just about the entire ensemble of faces were peering at Wespe, as that description pretty much matched more than half the troop at least.

"Get back to yer mulling!" ordered Foss, reluctantly all the faces turned away and resumed staring blanking into their own little flames or whatever they had been doing.

Wespe gave the uninterested look and then faced Foss again. "Like I tried to say. I doubt that more then half of us are of military origin. Which means it is up to us to us to make sure they survive. We can make them soldiers, I know. They just need to learn that reckless charges and bad swearing won't win you a fight." She stated to actually show that she did not mean to insult others.

"We're fourth company, they're all in it for the money. Trust me, I probably couldn't corral them into a reckless charge if I tried." muttered Foss, leaning closer to the fire " 'Sides, I been military. Don't mean noth'in far as tanks are concerned." Foss sniffed loudly and rubbed his hands together, it was a clear day but it still held little heat until the sun came up a little more.

Wespe thought for a while. "Well yeah, but if you let them run free they will just get themselves killed. And us killed. We are all in for a money, but we need to be alive to enjoy that money too you know." She said to Foss.

"Nu worry yur pretty little head, I got 'em shuffled so there's always at least one experienced crewman on each vehicle. Should help them stay out or trouble, or start it."

"Too bad they're only experienced in being alcoholics and gamblers" muttered one of the tankers sitting around their fire, receiving an obligatory slap to the back of the head from Foss.

"Yeah that should surely help. Anyway you got any report on when we roll out? And against what we roll out?" Wespe asked Foss in the end.
"Report? No." Foss rubbed his chin as he thought and looked around, he looked past Wespe's shoulder and stopped. "There a crew for that barge still around?"

"No idea, we would need to have a look. I was working on our tank and just got back. I looked at the cannon and all coils are fine. Did not get a chance to check the engine yet, but I figured you'd like to do that yourself anyway." She replied and looked tank parked under camo net nearby.

It was a mean looking beast, heavily modified for urban warfare and given a slick new digital pattern paint job. The main gun had been shortened to deal with the confined streets, razorwire encircled the hull and turret as extra deterrent, the commanders hatch had a protective shell on it to protect him while he manned the machinegun and a dozer blade had been put on the front to help facilitate demolition.

"That shorty," Wespe point at cannon. "won't have such a big boom and but that should be okay. Better to be able to aim. Long cannon would be too much in way. We can still take on any PA they throw at us. And shoot it from two kilometers afar. What I am worried about is, that those sods can move easily in building. I am no coward, but some infantry support would be nice. I hope they will give us some."

"We're a motor rifles battlion," replied Foss "only point me to the motors, apart from the tanks, and we'll be set." He sniffed again and rubbed his nose, excedding only is spreading the continual small layer of black grease on his face more.



Wespe looked at dark sky above them. "Ah, sitting is getting on my nerves. We should get out and do something. We won't get paid for sitting around." She said with angry tone in her voice.

"Yes, we do." came a mutter from one of the surrounding tankers.

"Yeah but those are only bits and nickels. If you want realy money you need to fight for it. Also when you make yourself a name you get better paid job. That's how it is going." She responded without thinking. Yes they were being payed for sitting around, but that was just stupid wage. Real money comes from combat.

The group of collective tankers all sighed in thought at the idea of a better paid job. Fourth company wasn't known for making a any names for itself, except bad ones.

Wespe looked at all the tankers sitting around and moping. "So you guys are done with your checks?" She asked. She then looked at one of the nepleslians. "What about you, Bradley? I am pretty sure your engine did not sound so swell on the way here. You will be dead if it goes out on you in field." She told him. She knew she was little cocky, but she could have because none of them was strong enough to beat her anyway. Yay for being Abwehran.

"I had Peer's take a look at it, " spoke up one of the tank commanders, cigarette still in his mouth "he couldn't find the problem. We'll have to take it down for a service." The mercenaries looked as one at the small gaggle of four tanks huddled under their covers. "But we're so few already..."

"It would be sad thing to let tank stay home. I am no mechanic, but perhaps one of the other mechanics could help Peers and look at it again. Any tank we lose now could be problem." Wespe said and lighted cigarette of her own.

Foss sighed angrily and looked up from the fire "Whatever the case, I'm not waiting around while damn squids go around wrecking my old neighbourhood. I've been waiting years for a chance to do that." While his voice was dead serious, a person wouldn't have had to know him long to realise he was kidding. "I'm not forcing anyone to come with me, but I think it's time we got our hands dirty in this little war."

"This is going to be long night," Wespe said and puffed on her cigarette. She then walked down to their tank. "Boss we still did not decide how we will call this thing." She said and kicked the tank in the turret slightly, before climbing in.

Foss moved to join his gunner when a hand grabbed his sleeve, he looked down to see the rifle part of the motors.

"Vhere you think you going?" Asked the thickly accented voice of Vesilev, the platoon leader of their accompanying infantry. "Your metal shit boxes would not survive a minute with out my infantry, I can't leave you zere to die." said the man, smiling. Vesilev always was a little crazy, frankly that title went to all his little gaggle of infantrymen too.

Foss just nodded his thanks, before moving on. Behind him a few other tankers sighed and started leaving their fires for the tanks. The stragglers getting lonely and eventually following.



Wespe made herself comfortable in her gunner seat and started bringing her systems online. "All green I am set to make things go kaboom." She said to Foss still waiting for his response about the tanks name.

"Endeavor." he said finally, looking up at the metal beast in front of him. "For effort to achieve."

Wespe poked out of her hatch again. "Endeavor? I can see it striking fear into our enemies faces right now." She said with irony in her voice and laughed.

"Can't you tell?" replied Foss, walking up and putting a hand on the side of the tank. "It's a woman. It should have a soft name." This last bit was quiet, almost for himself and the tank. His hand patted the vehicle with affection before he heaved himself up, carefully placing the circle of razor wire around the hull and turret as he made his way to his hatch.

The engine fired to life, and things began moving.


It was going to be an interesting day.

 

[Jimmy]

[30 minutes later]

"Vesilev! I thought you said you could drive this thing!" Foss called from his hatch as another sheet of spray splashed down from over the side.

"I said I vas into fishing, not barge driving!" replied the Russian infantryman over the cowl of his raincoat as he wrestled with the controls. The large barge was weighed down by two of the large Havoc tanks in its loading bay, it sat deep in the water, its engine throbbing with effort.

Foss shielded himself with the cover of his hatch as another splash bounced inside "How does a Ruskie fish?" he asked over the noise of the engine.

"Quarter stick of dynamite!" yelled Vesilev.

"Bah, I do not feel so well. How long do we have to stay on water?" Wespe asked her boss. Rain was not exactly her thing too.

"Well, just get us to the other side! Alive please!" shouted Foss, as more water splashed into the turret from his open hatch, by this point anyone topside was already soaked. He ducked back down "With Vesilev's driving we'll probably end up crashing right into the dock. Besides, it's not so bad." He said reassuringly, just as another splash rained down into the tank.

"Good at least we will be on shore faster." Wespe replied the dock-crashing quip. She really wanted to be one some place where she could not drown horribly. Or barf on her pants.

Foss could only place a hand on his gunners shoulder in comfort, a rare quiet moment from the usually loud and abrasive captain. Wespe looked up to him, giving him the puppy eye look of discomfort.

A call wafted in from the hatch "Shore spotted!", Foss poked his head back outside. The artificial wall bobbed up and down in motion with the waves. It wasn't so much a dock as a platform with a ramp leading to it, but better than nothing.

"Alright Velsilev, take us in gently!" ordered Foss, by the time the barge reached the 'dock' it was still steaming quite speedily.

"Time to strap in," Wespe said with pessimism.

The barge collided with a crunch of crushed rock and protesting metal, fortunately the hull held. The ramp went down and the newly christened bargemen undid the clamps tying down the tanks on the boat.

"I'm not ready, yet." The driver tank said from below, clutching a bottle of vodka close to his chest, "It is too wet for parting drink to barge. We cannot leave without parting drink."

Foss blinked at his driver before shuffling down to give the driver a strong kick to the back of the seat. "Give me that." he demanded, hand gesturing for the bottle. The driver obeyed, turning the bottle upside-down over his mouth in the process of handing it up to Foss, just to get the drink in anyway.

The commander grunted as he snatched the bottle away from the Russian, partaking a drink himself and cleaning whatever was left of the clear liquid, sighing as he took the last gulp. He stood back out of his hatch and threw the bottle into the river, much to the dismay of their Russian infantry.
Wiping his mouth Foss shouted down, "Get it into gear!"

"Let us bid farewell to barge, then." The driver snorted and slipped the tank's transmission forward, pressing the levers at his fingertips. "We will see it again later. We can drink with it then."

"Hey I did not get to have a drink!" Wespe said poking Foss slightly into his belly. "That was not nice!"

Foss hicced and shook his head "I'll make it up to you when we get back." he promised, swaying as the tank sprung forward, surprisingly fast for its bulk. Roaring up the ramp with little effort and beginning its terrorisation of the the streets.

"You should," Wespe said, putting her hand in front of her communicator so no one else could hear over the open line. "Or no blowjobs for a week," she added with mischievous grin on her face. She then turned to her gun. Maybe Foss was telling her where to shot but it was her gun. Her little toy.

"I'll give you my flask now for that week of blowjob, Vespa." Quipped the driver, digging in his pocket for a moment, causing the tank to swerve to one direction. Earning himself another kick to the back of the seat from Foss.

Behind them, the other tank powered its way up the ramp and followed, some of the Russian infantry scrambling aboard for the free ride. There was a change of tone from the barge as it went into reverse to pick up the last two tanks and remaining infantry, pulling away from the dock sluggishly.

"Dream on, Ivan. I am not eine hüre." She responded. "Although it is tempting offer," she added looking at Foss for his reaction.

Foss took all of this stoically, he'd get his revenge later.

"Ivan is my brother. He is driving tank behind us. I am Boris, Vespa." The driver kept his hands firmly on the levers this time. He also avoided Foss with the back of his head, just in case.
"Well, sorry Boris. But you are twins! How can I really tell." She said with pouty look on her face.
"Ivan is the one who is always sneaking drinks." Boris corrected her, though he was always sneaking drinks himself.

"Geez, thanks, now I won't have trouble recognizing you two any more." Wespe replied with sarcasm practically jumping out of the comment and kicking all to her in the face. She then reached into her pocket for box of deathsticks named Death and lit one, letting on board climatization worry about it.
"Boss," Boris said, "There is something big in-" The tank shook for a second, "...eh, it is behind us now."

Foss had been watching the windows of the surrounding buildings for possible ambush when something whooshed over his head and collided with the number two tank behind them. "What the shit?" Foss yelled in surprise as tank two buckled at the sudden impact and loose Russians sprayed around everywhere.

The crew in tank two seemed alright, judging from their input over the comm channel "Ah, your foot's up my ass!"

Foss immediately directed the turret around using his designator "Driver stop, reverse turn ninety!" he ordered, trying to swing the tank around to meet whatever it was. Boris complied a little too enthusiastically, pulling both levers to his chest in a rapid motion before pushing the right one all the way forward. He used the free hand to bring his flask to his mouth.

The tank violently came to a halt, rubber tracks pouring smoke as they flew into reverse. Wespe was especially thrown as the turret immediately began swing around at the same time. Foss was pressed against the rim of his hatch by his pelvis, torso flattened against the roof of the turret by the sheer force. Tracks still screaming the vehicle began moving backward before slewing sideways so its side armour was facing the enemy, turret pointed towards whatever it was.

"Ugh," Wespe grunted as she was thrown forward. "Scheise," she added. She quickly checked her monitor looking for any threats.

"I think my dick broke." Foss groaned as his head rose from on top of the tank. He was looking at a partially stunned NMX Ripper, looking almost like a giant bug on the windshield of a truck. Only it would take more than a splash of degreaser and a run of the wipers to get rid of this one.

"If that is true, you are dead man, Boris! Or you wish you were." Wespe shouted at the driver.
"We are turned." Boris said cheerily, ignoring the threats to his person.

"I hate you." Foss responded weakly.

"I will kiss it better later, Boss-man," Wespe said aiming main armament dead straight at the enemy Power Armour. "I was looking forward to this so much!" She said waiting for friendly tank to move away so she could blast the PA.

Rather than move away, the other tank simply gunned the engine and ran over the whole thing. It wasn't enough to crush the mech itself, but by the time the other tank had kicked up a last puff of insulting dust on the prone machine it had been pile driven into the pavement by a few inches.

The other vehicle pulled over to the other side of the road to give Wespe a clear shot, its own was too close, and the target was inside its dead zone. Meanwhile the scattered Russians were still piecing themselves together, seeing Foss's tank aim its barrel they instantly scattered again into whatever cover they could find. They'd been in this sort of thing before.

"Here we go!" Wespe said an pulled the trigger. Large gauss cannon released its payload aimed at stunned Ripper. One of the Rippers hands was just pushing itself up when the gun fired, it got a chance to look up before the slug smashed though its weakened shields and into its armour, knocking it out of the shallow hole and sending it skidding into a building in a cloud of plaster dust.
"Got him!" Wespe said to Foss. "But I cannot tell if he is down for good!" She reported to her tank-commander.

"Take no chances. Fire again." Foss thought for a second "Bury it in the rubble, just to be sure."

"Negative! I do not have the target. Ditching AP, loading HE!" She shouted, let automatic loading change the shell and firing it straight into the building. "That should do it!" The round exploded, blowing out the rest of the already shattered front. Foss went from being bent forward over his hatch to being bent backwards as bits of flaming debris came flying out.

The second tank had moved away slightly and added its roar to the mess, another HE round tearing into the building. There was a ear splitting groan before the mortally wounded structure fell in on itself. Dust poured everywhere, by the time it cleared there was nothing wholly recognizable as a building left.

Foss coughed loudly to clear the dust from his throat before bringing himself back inside the tank, one of his eyebrows smoking slightly. "Nice work, Wespe." he congratulated.

"I turn us all the way around, I get threat. Vespa pushes explosion button, she gets pat on back. You are playing favourite with us." Boris accused, then took another swig from his flask.

Wespe turned to Foss, her cigarette went out while she was killing NMX. Looking at idea she got one stupid idea and smiled like a little devil. She climbed up to him, as if she was wanted to kiss him, but she re-lighted her cigarette off his eyebrow smoking, putting it out with her thumb and forefinger. "Thanks boss, now please climb down so you won't get killed," She said and returned to her seat.

"Yes, dear." Foss retorted, looking somewhat disappointed. "Boris, when you grow a pair of titties, then you and me will start talking." he said, reaching up and shutting the hatch above his head. Coughing once more he checked the status of the other tank, the other commander responded that all was well.

"You are dose of Kaserine away from having competition, Vespa. Boris wants 'favourite position'." The Russian driver chided as he settled his hands back on the controls.

"I am not worried, my babies won't ever be 'fake', you know." She replied with a chuckle. "And maybe you can get big boobies, but boss will always know it is you in the body."

"Are you trying to say I have bad personality? No, that is my brother, Ivan with the bad personality."

"No, I am saying he will know there is hairy dude, somewhere inside that sexy woman." She said calmly, just stating facts.

"Oi! No talking about my love life on mission!" Foss snapped down at the other two, trying very hard not to blush somewhat.

"Oh shit. I think we also forgot about comms...." Wespe said to others.

It was too late though, as a rash of insuppressible giggling broke out across the channel. Boris' brother was also on the line, bitterly reminding him how they'd already discussed him being the one with the bad personality.

"You are all bunch of schoolgirls," Wespe let herself be heard.

 

[Jimmy]

[Ten minutes later]

The run in with the lone Ripper convinced the team that they should probably camp out somewhere while they waited for the rest of the troop. As they drove away a few small pebbles at the top of the pile of rubble that was once a building shifted and pinged their way down.

Having shifted a few hundred meters away the two tanks parked patiently in the street, infantry keeping a watchful eye at the corners of the connecting streets and even the dead zone above the two tanks. While unprofessional, these guys were competent.

After about fifteen minutes or so the other two tanks landed and moved up to meet them, Vasilev having situated himself Ttriumphantly upon the turret of the lead tank, leg sprawled over its barrel. He mockingly saluted Foss from his laid back position "Hey Boss, I heard there vas some arguments on your tank. Gotta keep vose two in vine!" he teased, smiling widely.

Foss gave his counterpart the finger in reply.

Wespe poked her head out of her open hatch. "You better shut up before I give you atomic wedgie! And you know I can do that!" She said to teasing Russian, and they know she could do it. Being abwehran and having strength of three man.

"Play nice, Wespe. We're only just getting into the woods." Foss chided, hauling himself out of his hatch. "Lets stratagize before we resume our little crusade." The command team gathered around Foss's small datapad laid out on the ground.

The "command team" was really probably just the least incompetent of the bunch, including Foss himself, of course. Wespe, Boris (but not Ivan), Vasilev, and the other tank commanders. Dick Bradley, Bob Jenkins, and Marley Sebastino filled the rest of the group.

Bradley. A bit above par for your average Nepleslian, even had a solid higher education, strange to find him in a run down unit like this. Probably the most reliable looking and oldest of the group.

Jenkins. Another stereotypical Nepleslian, uncouth, slightly grumpy. Was a relic from the Nepleslian army, like Foss, just as unprofessional too.

Finally, Sebastino. From Tapas country, or one of the neighbours anyway. Blonde shoulder-length hair, trimmed beard of the same colour and well toned musculature. Definitely never had any problems with the ladies, but this suave commanders real talent was for armored mayhem.

Foss pointed out a part of the map on the datapads small screen as they all huddled over it. "So, the rest of the battalion got their asses handed to them about here, they proceeded to drop the biggest god-damned thing they had on it short of nuclear or anti-matter. It's pretty safe to say anything or anyone at ground zero no longer has enough atoms to be reliably considered a piece of anything."

"It doesn't look like they'll be mustering enough courage to advance again for a while, so we're going to make things easier for them." The map zoomed out to show the platoons position. "We're going to make a thunder run straight through squidy turf and try to let the rest of our boys breath easier. Even if we're forced to withdraw before reaching the relevant sector of operations, we should at least blaze enough of a trail that the bastards send something to try and deal with us."

Foss looked at the rest of the team. "Rush, shoot, blow shit up. Any questions?"

Wespe grinned at others. This seemed like her kind of think. "None from me, but I hope you packed enough ammo." She said.

"Are we sure tank can manage tight space of city?" Boris piped in, passing a flask amongst the group, "Or is it okay if we are knocking over a few lamp posts?"

"Should be fine, not like it is your lamp post." Wespe joked , taking the flask and having a sip. "At least we will have infantry covering the windows. Half-drunk infantry, but that is better then nothing I guess."

"Do we look like the rest of the brigade? We don't need a dozen Onsets to cover one building properly." grumped Jenkins. His disapproval of the rest of their fellow regiment clear.

"It will still be tight quarters in the slums." Said Bradley as he leaned over Boris "Do you think we can use this highway to circle around?"

Boris squinted down at the datapad with the look of a doctor examining his patient. "She might not carry tanks." After a pause, he threw his arms up. "Who is Boris kidding?! This is Nepleslia! She can hold the tanks."

"Won't we be big targets on the highway?" Wespe asked as she handed flask to Foss. Tactics and strategy were not her big suites. She was more about bang.

Foss accepted the flask graciously and took a swig, his free hand signalling for someone else to add their input. It seemed the commander was content to watch his command team thrash it out.

"Well, yes. You are correct, Wespe." Replied Bradley, following Foss's cue. "However we would likely be able to move quickly compared to the streets, and less open to ambush." Bradley rubbed his moustache in thought. "I guess it's a bit of a trade-off on strengths."

"Highway is better, I think." Boris added. "I have room to turn the tank. We don't have to wait for her turret. This is better, no?"

"Nah you need to face the enemy, armour is strongest at the front and my turret turns fast enough. Will we do that thing when front tank has canoon pointed in front, second to the left and third to the right and so on?" Wespe asked then.

"Miss Tittenlieb, covering sectors is a basic of tank manoeuvres. Although, it might be better if we travel in file, there will likely be debris on either route, and the lead tank can clear it while the others follow in its wake." Spoke up Sebastino, stroking his golden chin hair.

Wespe confusingly looked at Foss. "Didn't I just said that?" She asked.

"Forgive me, I was merely clarifying." Sebastino replied with a dip of the head.

"So we will cover sectors, bury debris with our mighty treads, bury squids with our mighty roar, bury liquor with our mighty gut." Boris concluded, his flask having finished its journey back to him, "I think I can handle this."

"Hey Boris, be careful not to snap a thread. That highway is gonna be full of shit." Wespe added and poked Boris with finger. She would hate to be putting thread back on tanks on a highway for everyone with decent rifle to see.

"My treads snap for none but Boris." Boris nodded sagely as if he were hearing someone else use his favorite addage. He plainly couldn't remember breaking a tread over a bet with his brother not four months back.