The Bora, the icy wind that came out of the east, howled across the plain, racing the
dawn as it crept slowly over the freezing landscape. It swirled and gusted into every
corner of the ruined farmhouse, and caused the men huddled around it to draw their
greatcoats tightly around their necks. The gaping hole in the front wall was partially
plugged by the hulking mass of "Novikov-Priboy", the company's only remaining Leman
Russ, but still the wind found a way in.
The platoon had been resting in the house all night, but with the coming of the dawn,
they had stumbled groggily from the corners where they had crouched to stave off the
cold, and gathered to hear what Novgorod had to say. The lieutenant looked as haggard
as the rest of the men, but his spine was straight and his eyes gleamed as the
amphetamines he had taken with the coffee were starting to take effect. He held a
transcript that Rostov had handed to him, the thermal paper still steaming faintly in
the frigid air.
"We are ordered to secure this farm, Comrades. The marines will try and break out of
their landing zone and establish a secondary base here. We will stop them."
His eyes took in the sceptical looks, and he knew their cause. The marines had made
planetfall only forty-eight hours ago, and already had control of the entire Karelian
Isthmus. They had been contained on it only because the 24th Romanov Rifles had been
conducting manouvers nearby, outside of Kovrovo. The first contact had resulted in
the complete destuction of two reinforced platoons as the superhuman giants had carved
a bloody swathe through the unprepared guardsmen. And as yet, no-one even knew why.
"They will probe us, Comrades, and we must be ready. Sergeant Bondarenko's squad is to
scout to the east, and Sergeant Pushkin to the north. The rest will remain here. As
soon as you make contact, fall back here. Lure them to the tank. If you have to shoot,
shoot at their faces. Their faceplates are weak. Remember: together we are stone.
Apart, dust.
Now I know that some of you, Sergeant Razin in particular, have reservations about
taking up arms against these marines, as this is against the Imperial Edicts.
Commissar Saratov will advise us on these matters."
He moved to one side, and the commissar stood, drawing the bolt back on his boltpisto.
When he spoke, his voice was proud and confident, jarringly loud after the
lieutenant's measured tones.
"Comrades. The lieutenant speaks words of great wisdom. The marines come with no
mandate and no explanation. The Sanhedrin have had no success in communicating with
them. An unprovoked assault on sovereign forces is a casus belli, and something that
we shall not tolerate. They have slain our comrades, showing neither mercy nor pity.
They have stained our land with their unlawful presence. We will now wipe that stain
from these glorious and bountiful fields of Kovrovo, comrades, and in doing so we will
send a message that says 'We are Romanov! Cross us at your peril!"
An hour later and six hundred metres north of the farmhouse, Private Nevsky inched his
head over the rocks, his eyes barely slits as the icy wind made them water. He took in
the advancing forms, and lowered himself back down into the hollow again. He turned to
Sergeant Pushkin, his eyes wide.
"Five of the big ones, Comrade Sergeant, the Terminators. Also three bikes."
Pushkin took a quick look to confirm the private's reconnaissance, and then turned to
his men.
"Right, comradesŠback to the farmhouse. We run this way, so that they can see us."
Half a kilometre to the east of the farmhouse, Private Nicolai Kasmaranov made a
similar assessment.
"I saw seven of them, Comrade Sergeant Bondarenko, lead by a Terminator. There were
also scouts, about half a dozen, on top of the hill."
"Let them see you, Nicolai, and then we get back to the farmhouse as fast as
possible."
Back at the farm, Novgorod and Saratov assembled the three squad sergeants around the
crude map they had sketched in the damp soil. They squatted in a circle, but even so
the incessant wind kept blurring the details. Novgrod spoke whilst Saratov had to
continuously retrace the outline of the field with his knife.
"They are in two groups. This we know. Their terminators and bikes are our biggest
threat, as our lasguns will be almost useless against them. The only weapons we have
that will be good against them are the plasma guns, and we must concentrate them here.
I will take command of all the plasma weapons, and will need the plasma gunners from
squads A and C."
The sergeants nodded, and Bondarenko spoke
"Comrade Novgorod, take Issacs from my squad, and give me Mirko. I think Comrade
Pushkin's plasma gunner is Pieter, no? Let him take Chernishevski from your squad in
his place."
Pushkin nodded, and Novgorod continued.
"Comrades Bondarenko and Pushkin, your squads and Comrade Saratov will face the larger
force that will come from the east. My squad and Comrade Razin's squad will face the
terminators and the bikes. Now that your mind is at ease, Comrade Razin, I give you
the honour of engaging the terminators first. Make sure that you can fall back to the
tank, and draw them onto our plasma weapons. The mortars will assist against the
normal marines, whilst the tank will support us against the bikes."
The men all nodded, and then moved off back to their squads to pass around the bottle
of vodka. Sergeant Razin passed it round his squad twice.
The men waited, the cold wind numbing their hands now that they were not moving. Fifty
metres ahead of them, the low hill prevented them seeing the marines that they knew
were out there. They could here the muted roar of the bikes, but could do nothing but
wait. And then they saw them.
Cresting the hill came hulking figures in armour similar to the marines, but without a
helmet: the scouts. Around the left of the hill appeared the lumbering forms of the
five mightly terminators and the three bikes. Around the right of the hill strode
seven of the superhuman marines, and behind them, dwarfing even their armoured forms,
their terminator commander.
Even as they strode into view, the terminators raised their storm bolters and in
unison opened fire on Razin's squad. The howling of the wind was drowned by the twin
reports.
"Get down!" It was all that Novgorod had time to say as the shells whipped through the
squad, humming like metal hornets. His command squad and Sergeant Razin's squad all
fell to their faces on the freezing earth, and although the terminators swept their
position with fire, no-one was hit.
On the right, the bolters of the marines were out of range, but the storm bolter of
the force commander, looking small and frail in his armoured gauntlets, opened fire on
Bondarenko's squad. They too fell to the floor, but rifleman Yal would rise no more.
Taking stock of the situation, the guardsmen on the left that were facing the
terminators all raised their weapons and opened fire. On the right, Bondarenko's squad
went to ground, forming two ranks. The first rank lay flat, supporting their lasguns
on their elbows. The second rank knelt immediately behind them, and took up firing
positions. Sergeant Pushkin's squad moved up right behind them, effectivly creating a
single squad of twenty men four ranks deep, all ready to pour fire into the advancing
scouts and marines.
Above all, Novgorod's voice bellowed out.
"Concentrate your fire! Aim for their faces! For the glory of Romanov, OPEN FIRE!"
On the left his command squad and Razin's squad poured fire into the terminators. The
almost invisible lasgun beams flared as they converged on the ceramite plating of the
thick terminator armour, but did nothing but warm it. But with the plasma guns, it was
different. Two of the blue-white globes of superheated plasma converged on one of the
terminators and a bike, and passed through their armour as if it were not there. The
huge warrior fell backwards, his scream drowned out by the roar as the plasma bolts
exploded. The biker fared no better.
On the right, the all twenty guardsmen opened fire on the scouts, and although many of
the lasgun beams fell short, two of the scouts fell.
Trying to slow up the marine advance, the mortar squad let fly, but the howling Bora
flung the barrage far from its mark.
And then the entire battlefield shook as Novikov-Priboy's huge battle cannon opened
fire at the bikes. One of the bikers and a terminator were caught in the blast, but
whilst the biker was torn apart, the terminator shrugged off the shrapnel.
The marines were closer now, and again the terminators swept Razin's squad with storm
bolter fire. Novgorod screamed at them
"Hold your ground! All of Romanov looks to us here. Do not fail them! And stay down.
We're shooting over you"
Now the terminators were almost on them, and Lieutenant Novgorod drew his plasma
pistol and leveled it at the leader. He glanced at his men, and all five of them
rapid-fired at almost point-blank range. The multiple balls of plasma tore through the
terminators, and as the ionised gas dispersed, two more of these elite troops lay
broken and bleeding on the hard earth.
On the right, the massed fusillade from Bondarenko and Pushkin's squad scoured the
hillside where the scouts were advancing, and against this mass of firepower they had
no chance.
Seeing that the terminators were almost immune even to the battle cannon and that the
bikes were not to be seen, the huge barrel on Novikov-Priboy swung round towards the
marines and again fired. A huge column of earth errupted where it struck, and three
marines caught in the blast were torn to shreds, scattered like broken dolls.
Now the terminators were on them, and the remains of Razin's squad leapt forward into
almost certain oblivion. Rifleman Chekov though, perhaps not experienced to know that
what he was doing was suicide, ducked under the raised power fist of the terminator
and with a scream of frustration jabbed his bayonet at the eye socket in the armour.
Whether it was a result of the damage from the cannon shell, or just plain luck, the
crystal eyepiece shattered, and the bayonet drove home into the terminator's brain.
Outraged by this, the remaining terminator leapt forward, and with three easy swipes,
tore three guardsmen in half. The two survivors could do nothing but leap for the
safety of the tank.
Now the marines were in range of the guardsmen, and their bolters tore gaping holes in
the packed ranks. But reduced to only five, they could not bring enough firepower to
bear.
Seeing that the tank was too close to the terminator, the driver backed up as far as
he could, and in doing so brought the heavy bolter in the hull to bear on the two
bikers. It opened fire, and the biker went down, his machine and his body destroyed.
Again the fusillade from Bondarenko, and this time even the marine's power armour
could not save them. As the lasguns fell silent to recharge, all that remained
standing was the terminator force commander.
Surveying the shattered remains of his force, he turned and strode back to the
penninsula, the other remaining terminator doing likewise.
End.
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