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>Reserved Fire- J-8 Vilgerson - [10, 10, 9, 7, 1, 6, 9, 8, 5, 9] Attacks and attempts to Suppress ??? Infantry. ATK 2 vs DEF 5, 8+ to Hit, 9+ to Suppress. 2 Crits, Suppression Successful, Enemy Movement Interrupted.
Caelussian Paramarine Platoon has called in Close Air Support!
>Reserved Fire- pp40 T8-Us [4, 7, 3, 1] Attack Franziska- ATK 2 vs DEF 1, 4+ to Hit. 2 Hits. [Vehicles 1 and 2 are hit for 1 Damage]
Ivani Krasnyy had heard, several times, of a man in the vice-infested wastes of Sosaldt who had gathered around himself a legion of the strong, loyal, and talented. A warband that was the sort that might conquer the world in another era, had the man not died an untimely death, leaving his mighty followers adrift without unity, and his band a shadow of itself. In spite of what was said about the heretics’ disunity, their unrepentance, Krasnyy had heard of this legend and…coveted it.
What bliss it would be to surround oneself with the best who could be found, and never have to suffer the presence of those who were his allies in name only, and worthy of nothing but contempt.
…Though the subjects of his curiosity weren’t doing well in the regard of earning respect at this precise moment- they seemed to be trying to look for him, but they’d mostly be finding the Petrekorans that were forced down and dispatched. A backup plan that would probably go well, combined with the fact that Krasnyy had donned one of their distinctive helms, that hung low to help disguise his more distinctive physical characteristics. They’d probably be expecting a man in a tanker’s suit, and the Petrekorans’ black uniforms would help add hesitancy to confusion.
He passed right on by a few GCA goons without them realizing- the Petrekorans would likely realize the ruse, but most of them were in no condition to pursue him. He left- practically strolled away.
There would be a third time, and that time, there would be a true test of him and those he paid mind to.
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Lieutenant Wester and Lieutenant Gauthier’s platoons had been ripped apart by the fighting- but had given at least as good as they got- especially now. Wester had moved his men into position to defend Gauthier’s flank, and had managed to catch the enemy off guard as they attempted to advance.
Yet, they were implacable. Battle cries and jeering shouts echoed along with the gunfire, the grenades, the hot winds caused by spreading infernos and howling flamethrowers. It grew quieter, however- as Wester encountered corpses, the helpless wounded, and Gauthier’s men rather than new enemies. He wouldn’t see where the last effort had been spent- but Gauthier did, personally.
