Ablaze Ch.12: Battle of Senchen (9)
The 2/159th Infantry pushes forward to retake ground lost since the beginning of the battle.
Cover art symbols are from "MIL-STD-2525C".
Attacking - Corysia- Infantry Platoon (Bravo 3, 2/159th Infantry) + Mechanized Platoon ('Red Rock') Defending - Parosana - Infantry + Mechanized elements Terrain - Urban
Characters: Karbovic - Wolf - Squad Leader Darrell - Wolf - Medic Reaf - Wolf - Designated Marksfur Sun - Red Fox - Anti-Armor Specialist Terry - Silver Fox - Riflefur
*2/17/2013: I just found out I left this submission as "hidden" all the way until now. Great.
July 12, Y874 - Corysia - Senchen - Noon
"Go, go!"
A wolf bursts through the doorway and into the clothing store, paws gripping onto his Type 49, ready to fire at any hostiles that may be met. He stands significantly taller than the next fur; a fox who follows right behind the wolf with his own assault rifle shouldered. They are quickly backed up by another fox and a wolf.
"Clear!" the first wolf, Karbovic, says.
A third wolf, Reaf, enters carrying his Type 49 with an optical sight mounted onto it.
They ascend the stairs at the back of the shop, with Karbovic on point. The structure is four stories all the way to the top, but it's still short compared to most of the surrounding buildings. On the second floor and above, the building reverts back to the store owner's now abandoned living quarters. The team conducts a quick sweep to make sure there aren't any Paros hiding to ambush them.
The fox with black fur, a silver fox, turns into one of the rooms with his assault rifle raised, only to find the four corpses of a small family in the former living room. Their fore and hindpaws have been bound together, muzzles tied shut, and a pool of dark red has long solidified around them. Disturbed by the grisly scene, the fox quickly pads around the dead Canids, checking around the couch and other furniture, before hastily exiting and shutting the door. The Corysian infantry team pads up the next flight of stairs, and again conduct a quick sweep. They do the same for each story before at last arriving at the fourth floor.
"Darrell, Terry, you two guard fourth floor!" the Karbovic says.
The silver fox and a grey wolf stay behind while the other soldiers rapidly ascend the stairs. The fox sighs. The two of them have to make sure the Paros don't retake the building. He looks around the messy, abandoned house. Six days. It's been six days since they've been here the last time. Six days since the Corysians last held Vanden Road, and now it's almost within reach. That last time was July 6th, when the 159th Infantry Brigade, 54th Infantry Division, had just arrived at Senchen. The 2/159th Infantry had been fighting in the Financial ever since that day, and now they have finally retaken their lost ground.
Darrell, meanwhile, hears Terry's discomfort. He's worried for him, and knows the fox is struggling being in an active combat unit. Terry was transferred from conscription without proper training, and in Corysia, the training received from conscription is a bad excuse. What little training the fox had is nothing like that of active duty. The change he experienced must have been immense, but here and now isn't the right situation for him to do anything about it. The two furs plot out a plan for their ambush, and wait for whatever will happen next.
Upstairs, Karbovic kicks open the door leading out onto the roof. He leaves the darkness of the stairwell, Reaf and Sun following close behind. The wolf drops to a crouch and slows his pace as he nears the north-west corner of the roof, finally lying prone when he arrives. Peeking over the edge, he has much better view of the area than on the ground. His ears perk up and swivel around, tracking the intermittent gunfire crackling in the distance. From all the fighting, the ground below is littered with debris. Everywhere there is plentiful protection provided by the wreckage of crumbling buildings. The street leading west has a knocked-out Type 41 close to the intersection. To the south is their platoon waiting for them to reach their vantage point.
"Bravo 3, this is 3-2 Alpha. We're in position, over," Karbovic says into his radio.
"Copy, we're advancing," 3rd Platoon responds.
Karbovic looks over the edge of the roof, seeing Third Platoon proceeding north from their position a distance south of them. He turns his attention back to the task at hand. Their unit, Alpha Team, 2nd Section, is tasked with providing overwatch while the rest of the platoon advances forward. So far it's going well. There have been very few enemy contacts and no significant evidence of a strong enemy presence, but the wolf is sure they're here somewhere. Karbovic continues spotting, along with Reaf. Sun, meanwhile, retrieves a disposable rocket launcher and lays it next to him for easy access. The path ahead still seems clear.
Down below, 3rd Platoon bounds up the two sides of the street, some of the soldiers stopping and providing cover while others quickly advance forward. They soon reach within 50 meters of the intersection Alpha Team is at. Next they'll cross it, and 3-2 Alpha will exit the building and link up with the platoon. Parosanan forces to their east would be occupied by Charlie Company's attack, and other platoons from Bravo Company are working on the west flank. That leaves 3rd Platoon free from major flank attacks, and their only concern being to push forward to Vanden Road, and hold their position until reinforcements arrive. But it won't be smooth. Automatic fire rips through the air, hitting a few of 3rd Platoon's soldiers before they can find cover.
Karbovic swears as Reaf quickly aims at the source of the incoming rounds. Placing his scope's crosshairs over a second story window, Reaf squeezes the trigger a few times, silencing the machine gun. Although the weapon is no longer in action, that doesn't prevent other sources of enemy fire. Bursts of small arms fire erupt everywhere on the streets below, and the platoon fights for its survival. The Corysians seek shelter among the rubble, or breach the surrounding buildings in pursuit of cover. Karbovic fires multiple shots in semi-automatic at a Paro using the disabled Type 41 for cover, many of them missing his target completely. "I need an optical sight on this rifle!"
Two magazines and quite a while later, the fighting starts to break out of a stalemate. Despite the help of 3-2 Alpha, the Paros have the advantage with several units in the area responding to the Corysians' presence. They pin down Bravo 3, leaving the Corysian platoon unable to effectively return fire.
As Karbovic fires another slightly off-target shot in semi-automatic, he hears something rather disturbing. Over the noise of the firefight, he manages to hear gunfire, the sound of a firearm discharging from the stairs they came from! Was it Darrell? Did something happen, or did Terry fuck up again? But his biggest concern is that those gunshots are from a Paro assault team.
"I hear something, be ready," Karbovic warns the other two.
The wolf quickly scrambles behind an air conditioning unit on the roof, and raises his assault rifle. He flicks his rifle's fire selector to automatic, and waits.
Seconds of silence pass, dragging into a minute. Karbovic keeps his sights on the doorway they came from, leading into the concrete structure. Then he sees movement, and Karbovic quickly identifies the fur as a Parosanan. The wolf's finger slips from indexing and onto the trigger. He lets out a short, controlled burst, dropping the enemy soldier.
"Keep me covered!"
Karbovic advances carefully towards the stairs leading down. What is happening down there? Wasn't Darrell and Terry supposed to be keeping their tails covered? That soldier couldn't have come here alone, either.
Muffled gunfire passes through the structure's concrete walls. Terry keeps his Type 49 pointed in the direction of the stairs, waiting with Darrell. He kneels just inside the doorway of some room. It has a few cabinets with glass doors, still untouched from the war. The fox is guessing it's some sort of study room, but he can't tell for sure, nor does he really care. Darrell is inside another room, also waiting in ambush. Nothing has happened so far, other than the sudden automatic fire emanating from outside. Terry isn't complaining about the situation. He'd rather be bored to death than shot to death. He'd also prefer not to be under fire, so he's glad of the status quo.
Terry quickly shoulders and aims his rifle. What the fuck was that? There it is again! It's a very quiet, faint sound. The silver fox swears inwardly and fires a burst from his Type 49, missing the small glimpse of a helmet and pair of ears, belonging to a Parosanan soldier.
"Fuck, that bastard!" a black-furred wolf yelps.
He jumps back, almost colliding with the rest of his team.
"Almost got my ears! Anyone got a flash?" he whispers.
"Negative, just pop smoke or something," another fur replies behind him
"In here? You're shitting me. Damn it," the wolf sighs, pulling out a smoke grenade.
"Get back, he might blindfire or something."
He pulls the pin and releases the safety lever. The grenade emits a pop, and pours out red smoke. The wolf tosses the smoke grenade up the stairs and retreats a few steps along with the rest of his team. Red fills the floor above them, and after roughly twenty seconds, they go back up.
Thick, red smoke pours out of the grenade. It quickly disperses at first, but soon clouds the cramped fourth floor. Terry's forepaws tremble. He can't see anything through the red screen, which now fills the area. The fox scrambles to the back of the room, and opens the windows. Gradually the smoke drifts into the room, towards the open window, but not fast enough to make a difference. Terry quickly scampers back as gunfire breaks out. A loud burst from a Type 49 rings out, definitely belonging to Darrell, responded by a long stream of 7.7mm rounds from the Parosanan soldier on point.
Shouting breaks out from the Parosanan soldiers. Automatic fire rips through the air as another Paro opens fire. Terry swears, blindfiring his rifle through the doorway, emptying roughly half his magazine before hiding behind cover. A short burst of rifle fire rips through the smoke, the rounds hitting the wall Terry is taking cover behind. But being made out of thick, solid concrete and rebar, it easily stops the 7.7mm Parosanan rifle bullets. The small arms fire hammers at Terry's ear. One round ricochets and hits a cabinet near the doorway. The glass door shatters, spilling shattered fragments onto the ground. Terry risks firing a few more rounds before cowering against the wall in fear.
Meanwhile, two of the Paros lay down fire while the other two furs charge up the staircase. The Paros quickly stop shooting in order to avoid accidentally wounding one of their own. Terry hears the two Parosanans' boots on the tile floor immediately outside the room. Terry makes a last, but foolish attempt to fight for his life. He emerges from cover, raising his weapon with shaking paws. Through a hole in the smoke, he sees the Parosanans, and aims his rifle at them. But the enemy can also see Terry. They're already within a meter of the silver fox, allowing the black wolf on point to use physical force, which is what he does. The wolf quickly transfers his right paw from the handle of his assault rifle to the stock. Using it as a blunt weapon, the Parosanan soldier knocks Terry's rifle away as it discharges a few rounds, none of which hit the enemy. The wolf then swings the stock diagonally up and connects it with Terry's muzzle. The stock hits the silver fox hard on his lower jaw. He yelps in pain, hearing a sick crack when the rifle hits his muzzle.
Terry loses grip on his rifle, which lands on the ground at least a meter away. He himself follows suit, falling backwards into the room and hitting the ground. The fox soon realizes his situation. Right after using the stock as a weapon, the Paro is starting to shoulder his rifle. At this range, lining up a weapon with him will be almost instantaneous. Terry's own rifle is out of reach, and his sidearm is tucked away, along with his all-purpose shovel and utility knife. He swears inwardly at his situation.
In that moment, Darrell emerges from his hiding spot in the neighboring room and lunges at the black-furred wolf with his own rifle. He holds the Type 49 over his left shoulder, rifle's muzzle pointing backwards while the stock faces the enemy. He uses it to smash the enemy soldier on the side of his head, knocking the wolf to the ground, before turning his attention to the second Parosanan. Darrell blocks a hit from the other's rifle, and the Paro responds by lining up his weapon with Darrell. The Corysian wolf quickly strikes out with his rifle, preventing the Paro from shooting. The two wolves continue their fight, engaging in physical combat with their assault rifles. However, with the smoke grenade still pouring out thick red smoke, visibility is incredibly limited.
In the neighboring room, Terry takes advantage of the lack of attention on him to scamper over to his Type 49. The problem is that he doesn't go unnoticed. The black Parosanan wolf pulls himself together, and as he takes in the situation and realizes what had just happened, quickly notices Terry. He doesn't bother looking for his weapon. Instead, he gets off his back and lunges at the fox, who has just reached his own rifle. The silver fox soon pushed into a corner of the room by the wolf as they fight over the assault rifle. At the same time, the two Parosanan soldiers who were initially providing suppressing fire ascend the stairs. With the paw-to-paw fighting going on and smoke clouding their vision, they're afraid to intervene with the possibility of friendly fire.
"I can't get a shot!" one of them shouts, who tries to aim his rifle at Terry through the smoke.
"Then go first, eliminate that damn sniper! They're fucking killing us! We'll finish up these furs," the wolf fighting Terry says. Of course, it's in Parosanan so neither Darrell nor Terry understood what was said, as if they could do anything about it.
They give up, and continue up the next flight of stairs. In the meantime, the fight between Darrell and his nemesis is still undecided. They attempt to knock their opponent to the ground or at least score a hit, but each of their strikes are blocked. Each attempt to shoot is interrupted. They snarl at each other, pushing over chairs and even a bookcase, messing up the place that was, already, nowhere near organized.
In the other room, Terry struggles against the stronger wolf. Between their forepaws is the silver fox's Type 49 assault rifle. Terry tries to push the black wolf away from him, but the Paro transfers the energy and shoves the fox to the other side of the room. Terry loses his grip on his Type 49, and the wolf swiftly pulls it out of his paws. Immediately after, the fox's boots lose their grip on the glass fragments scattered on the tile floor, and he falls onto the ground. Terry looks up in horror as the black wolf, who now holds his Type 49, points the assault rifle at him.
Click! The magazine is empty.
"Fuck!" the Paro shouts, throwing the empty rifle at the silver fox.
The wolf reaches for his sidearm instead. Adrenaline in his system, Terry takes the opportunity to lunge at the Parosanan soldier. He grabs the arm reaching for the handgun, and closes his jaws on the soldier's forearm. The wolf screams out in pain as the Corysian soldier knocks him onto the ground with the momentum from his lunge. Terry's teeth plunge into the other fur's flesh, metallic-tasting blood seeping from the wounds. The black wolf desperately tries to free his arm. The silver fox feels the wolf's claws frantically scrape at his fur. But after two swipes, the Parosanan finds his grip and scratches hard on Terry's skin, leaving deep lacerations on the fox's face. The soldier had sharpened his claws, and now the wolf is glad he has. The silver fox tries to keep his jaws shut, but the pain overcomes him. The wolf pries open Terry's muzzle, claws into it, and throws the Corysian off of him. They both quickly rise from the floor, the Paro inspecting his bloody arm as Terry wipes his own blood from his ravaged face.
"Bastard!" the black wolf screams at him through the smoke. Terry snarls in response.
The fox sees the enemy soldier change his stance, preparing to pounce at him. The silver fox recalls that he has his utility knife. He reaches to unsheathe the knife and pulls it out just in time. The black-furred wolf pounces at him. Through the smoke, Terry fails to pinpoint the enemy. The silver fox is knocked backwards, against the wall. The impact on the back of his helmet disorientates Terry, who loses grip on his knife. Exploiting the fox's situation, the black wolf drives his clenched paw time and again into his face. Terry tries to fight back, lashing out with his paws in a hopeless attempt to injure or deter the wolf, but only finds empty space to meet them. The powerful impacts against his injured muzzle cause pain beyond belief. A few blows later, the black wolf reaches for his combat knife. There is unfinished work for him to do. Before the wolf's forepaw even reaches his knife, a burst of gunfire resonates through the fourth floor.
The Paro, previously holding Terry against the wall, drops the silver fox. He quickly scours the ground for his own assault rifle, but doesn't find it, and takes out his sidearm instead. The wolf goes to the doorway and pokes his muzzle out just in time to see the lifeless body of his teammate, one of the two who were going to the roof, roll down to the foot of the staircase. The black wolf raises his handgun, ready to fire at the enemy. Only moments later, the unseen Corysian fires a burst of rifle fire from the staircase. With the stairs facing away from him, the black-furred Parosanan wolf can only see the muzzle flashes through the smoke. He weighs his options now that his last teammate is probably dead. He can attempt to kill the Corysian with his handgun, or he can run while he still has a good chance of getting away, but whatever choice he decides on there's also the red smoke blocking everyone's visibility, including his. The Paro turns to Terry, slumped against the wall he was beaten against.
"Guess like you'll live another day," he growls angrily to the fox before sprinting to the staircase leading down.
Darrell swiftly turns his muzzle towards the staircase, only to discover his section leader, Karbovic, on the stairs with his rifle raised. Darrell pants, his tongue lolling out of his maw from his recent exertion. Karbovic descends the last few steps, and they quickly sweep the floor. The two wolves find Terry and search the floor for the last Paro, but they fail to find the soldier. They regroup at the silver fox.
"Terry, get up," Karbovic growls, prodding the fox on the shoulder
Terry pushes himself a few centimeters up off the ground with his forepaws, but stops there. He's obviously having difficulty even maintaining this position. Darrell decides to help. He uses an extra paw to help the fox up, and eventually Terry is supporting all his weight on crooked legs, and the concrete wall behind him. Terry's muzzle dips down as he takes deep breaths and bleeds further. The silver fox's heart sinks when he notices Karbovic's boots in front of him.
His section leader pushes aside Darrell and grabs Terry painfully by the neck, pulling him up so that the he stands properly on his hindpaws. The fox whimpers with his ears folded back. Nothing good will result from this. When Karbovic releases him, Terry stands shaking noticeably, partly because he's straining his muscles just to stand properly, but also from fear.
"Can't you stand?" Karbovic asks.
Terry's shaking ceases slightly, and he stands as still as he could. Still, the instability of him on his hindpaws is obvious.
"Don't let another one of the bastards make it upstairs again or you'll receive a beating from me instead," the large wolf growls. "You're fucking pathetic."
Karbovic finds any problem to blame on Terry, regardless if it's partly or entirely fault. He won't care if there's not even a possibility for the silver fox to obtain to the desired results.
Karbovic turns and leaves, going up the stairs two steps at a time, back to the roof. He leaves the grey wolf and silver fox alone again. Terry collapses from exhaustion, having stressed his muscles merely to stand upright. The adrenaline withdrawal leaves him exhausted. The silver fox sits slumped against the hard concrete, muzzle drooping towards the ground and ears still folded against his head. Terry's body responds to all his actions with a deficit of energy, excruciating pain, and soreness. Darrell walks over to and retrieves the fox's rifle and utility knife from the ground. He gently holds it towards Terry, who reluctantly accepts back his equipment. With quivering forepaws, Terry grabs it, but drops his equipment beside him. Darrell sits down next to Terry, and gently places a forepaw on his back to comfort him. Terry fights to hold back tears. The fighting that just took place, and Karbovic's words, how he'd just failed, catch up with Terry. The fox rests his head against Darrell's shoulder as he whimpers. He never wanted to fight this war.
"Red Rock 1, proceed forward to kilo eight-four-fiver, over."
The message is transmitted to Red Rock 1, a Corysian mechanized detachment, as they rumble forward. IFV-1, the command vehicle, picks up the message and plays it through the headset stuffed under the IFV commander's ears. The Alsatian listens to it as the driver keeps the vehicle heading down a four-lane street, maneuvering around debris.
"Roger, Red Rock 1 is proceeding to kilo eight-four fiver, out," the commander responds.
In the back, nine soldiers wait with strained nerves. Suddenly the radio comes alive again.
"Mission update, infantry platoon 'Bravo 3' in heavy contact at echo eight-four-fiver, assist and proceed with unit to Victor Romeo, over,"
"Wilco, Red Rock 1 assist 'Bravo 3' at echo eight-four-fiver, out."
"Shit, Vanden Road? We're fucked," the gunner mutters.
"You hear that?" the commander asks the vehicle's driver, ignoring the comment from his gunner.
"Affirm, echo one-four-niner, it should be this street here."
IFV-1, leading a platoon of three other Type 56t-IFVs, turns onto the smaller street. The two infantry fighting vehicles behind slow down to avoid collision, and follow the tracked medium in front onto the two-lane street. Not long afterwards, they spot a firefight in the distance. As they near the fighting, the number of incoming rounds increases tremendously. Small caliber rounds ricochet off of the IFV's armor
"Alright Red Rock 1, we got multiple contacts up ahead. Watch your fire, don't hit friendlies."
IFV-1's gunner rotates the turret, facing the 20mm cannon at a fortified structure occupied by enemy forces.
"They've got APCs," the radio blurts out.
"IFV-2, we're engaging."
A series of blasts ring out from behind IFV-1 as the Type 56t designated as IFV-2 fires a four round burst at a Manta-60. Large holes are gouged out of the relatively thin-skinned eight wheel vehicle as the 20mm AP cannon rounds slam into it. Another burst finishes it off, mangling the armored personnel carrier. Still, the projectiles do not cause a catastrophic detonation.
"Bravo 3, this Red Rock 1, we're here to assist."
"Armored support, inbound from the south," Sun says, spotting with Karbovic's binoculars
Indeed, Karbovic finds a line of three Type 56ts not far away.
"About damn time they got armored vehicles here," Sun mutters. It's been almost half an hour since they've been stuck here. The fox has already used up all of his MURLDs taking out the first two Manta-60s, and now a third has shown up. His last disposable launcher only immobilized the APC, leaving an armored machine gun turret in the middle of the street.
"They better not run over any of ours."
The friendly IFVs approach, one of them finding and eliminating the Parosanan APC with two bursts from its main automatic cannon.
"Hot damn!" Reaf exclaims.
Meanwhile, IFV-1 fires on an occupied building, either suppressing or killing its occupants. The troops occupying the IFVs pour out, adding a whole platoon of Corysian soldiers to the battle. These weren't just regular troops, either. Corysia's "Special Branches", which includes the airborne, marine, mechanized, and armored troops, are organized similarly to the modernized countries, meaning more supporting elements. Plus, they receive better equipment and training. The machine gun team attached to the platoon quickly sets up their Type 52 GPMG, and lays down fire on the Paros.
With the addition of the mechanized platoon, the battle quickly turns in favor of the Corysians. The Paros are smashed, and the Corysians seize the opportunity to counterattack.
"Red Rock 1, do you have clearance to follow us to Vanden, over?" 3rd Platoon CO says through his radio.
"Affirm, already our objective, over," the platoon's CO responds
"Roger. Alright fellow furs, our objective is to reach Vanden and secure Kado Center. Regroup and resupply first, then we move out ASAP! 3-2 Alpha, get your tails down here, we aren't going to wait, out."
"Time to move," Karbovic says. Him, along with Reaf and Sun, rise from their prone position and descend the staircase down.
By the time they reach the fourth story, Darrell had heard the pawsteps on the stairs. He leaves Terry by himself while he scrambles to his predetermined ambush position, watching over the staircase. The rest of Alpha Team only sees the unsuspecting scene Darrell had planned. Stepping over to the next flight of stairs, Karbovic sees Terry slumped against the wall, still in the same room he left him in, but holding his Type 49 in his forepaws. The silver fox apprehensively lifts his muzzle towards the taller wolf. Karbovic then turns his muzzle to face Darrell.
"Platoon's moving, c'mon," the wolf says, before facing Terry again.
"Get up," he says, before walking to and descending the next flight of stairs.
Sun follows without a word, as does Reaf. Darrell picks up his rifle and stands, slow enough for the others to leave first, then pads over to the silver fox. He helps Terry to stand, who by now has regained his ability to do so, and the two furs descend the structure to the first floor where they exit the building. Outside, a few boxes of ammunition are unloaded from the IFVs and rapidly being distributed among the furs even while under sporadic fire.
Shortly after, the furs are again on the move. 3rd Platoon is on point, while the mechanized Red Rock 1 follows closely behind. The soldiers keep close to the sides, leaving the open street for the Type 56t-IFVs. The platoons advance at a brisk walking pace, stopping to engage targets on the way. Terry follows Karbovic, directly in front of him. Automatic fire rips through the air, and the platoons drop to the ground. The weapon fires in longs bursts, keeping the Corysians down.
"MG, where's it coming from?" a voice shouts over the radio.
"Up ahead, one of the buildings!"
"It's from the restaurant, yellow signs!"
"IFVs, focus fire on targets towards right, dug into shop with yellow signs, over," one of the furs in Red Rock 1 shouts into his radio
"Roger, IFV-1 engaging targets in the shop, yellow signs."
After sending the response, the lead IFV rotates its turret slightly to the right and points it at the specified building. Incoming small arms fire does nothing to stop or hinder the heavily armored infantry fighting vehicle as it fires the main 20mm cannon. Terry lies on the ground just a few meters in front of the tracked vehicle, its powerful gun hammering away at the enemy position. The silver fox can feel the explosion of each round's propellant despite his distance, the resulting force sending each 20mm explosive projectile downrange. Only a few rounds later, the troops are once again on the move. Terry keeps his eyes open for enemy threats. The power and protection provided by the weapons and armor it carries is a tradeoff with its inability to maintain good situational awareness. In an urban environment, this has been, and still is, deadly.
"Contact!" a Corysian shouts.
A machine gun team quickly sprints out of a building, takes cover behind a pile of rubble, and opens fire. The Corysians hit the ground, but before they can return fire, another Paro appears from a small street a hundred meters or so ahead, and shoulders a reusable rocket launcher.
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