The weather was gloomy, with low clouds and a thin layer of snow barely covering the ground. It suited Sgt Bach's mood far too well.

The sergeant was worried, and had been so since the surviving two Basilisks of his battery had been pulled of the gun-line two days ago for some modifications to be done by the battalion tech-detachment.

The modifications had consisted of removing the huge blast-shields to reduce the silhouette and adding a less rudimentary direct-fire targeting system scavenged from knocked-out Leman Russ battle tanks. From what Bach had seen, there were plenty of Russi to scavenge for parts. The army obviously had run into some kind of trouble. Not relying on official information, he had probed the officers and NCOs in the tech-detachment for details, and was horrified to hear that the main supply lines of the army had been cut, reducing the previous flood of munitions and fuel to a mere trickle. Instead of a powerful slashing advance through the woodlands and over the plains, the army was now forced to fight a defensive battle on one front, while trying to reopen the supply lines to the rear.

As if this wasn't enough to cause concern, the battery was short one gun and one commanding lieutenant. Lt Osmanski had been lost when C-gun had been slow to shift to a secondary firing position and was caught by counter-battery fire.

"Sergeant!" A call from his Comm-Operator brought him out of his reverie, and back to the matters at hand.

"Yes?"

"Our scouts report the enemy approaching the five-minute mark."

"Very good. Tell them to pull out, and bring both guns into position."

The reply of the Comm-Operator was drowned in the roar of the two Basilisks moving from well-hidden positions in the forest, to prepared firing positions at the tree line.

Walking up to B-gun, Bach mentally surveyed the position of his battery . . . At least this was a very good position, overlooking the wide, un-fordable Hrolf River. A bridge, the only within ten klicks lay in clear view from both guns. Bach had made certain that the gunners had the bridge well zeroed in.

The sergeant would have preferred to have blown the bridge, but according to the brass it would be needed for "later offensive operations once the supply problem had been corrected". Bach didn't think this was very likely, as he had heard rumours that the entire Chapter of Blood Angels Space
Marines had dropped on their supply-lines and wouldn't budge.

On the opposite side of the river a lone Sentinel, the sole remainder of the attached scout squadron, came running towards the bridge. As it was halfway across, a sun-bright lance of light stabbed out from the tree-line behind it, blowing the thinly armoured Sentinel to pieces.

The sergeant began barking orders, setting the well-laid ambush in motion.

"Heads up, here they come! Wait until they are on the bridge, and can't manoeuvre, then it's four shots per gun, pop smoke and withdraw."

Bach had little doubt that he'd win this skirmish, just like he had won the previous one and would most likely win the next one, but he also had little hope of surviving the war.

The bright red shapes of the enemy Predator tanks and Rhino APCs began crossing the bridge.

"Zulu battery . . . Fire!"

Used with the kind permission of Per Andersson.