[h3]0655 hrs[/h3]

[i]"E-T-A thirty seconds on fire mission, over."[/i]

Lieutenant Colonel Ethan Rose held the receiver close to his ear, keying down the Push-to-Talk.

"Orchard copies."

[i]"Verified, Notary out."[/i] The battalion net went quiet.

Rose leaned against the rear of his commander's hatch, knocking back a swig of lukewarm black coffee from his metal mess cup. It was by no means [i]gourmet[/i], but it was better than nothing after being awakened at oh-dark-thirty for this shit. It was mind numbing, the constant pitter-patter of small arms, the far-off snaps and booms of cannonry. It was almost enough to give someone sensory overload if they weren't focused.

Thunk, thunk, thunk. Three distinct sounds, followed by three far off explosions. The LTC brought the pair of binoculars hanging from his neck to his eyes, observing the carnage. It was all shrouded in smoke kicked up by the high explosives, but it had hit exactly where a column was passing. It was called dead on.

He keyed up his receiver again, setting his mess cup on the lip of the cupola.

"Orchard to Notary, good effect, repeat fire mission. B-D-A to follow, over."

[i]"Notary to Orchard, wilco, out."[/i] A voice read back to him, the voice of Captain Scott Battle, his Fire Support Officer in the [url=https://live.staticflickr.com/903/28374494198_daca789023_b.jpg]FIST-V[/url] sitting about 20 meters to the command tank's rear. Its laser designator pod panned idly, no doubt gauging ranges, grid coordinates, and all other useful information.

Tucking the receiver back into its loop on his crewman flak jacket, he focused his eyes front, snapping out of the musing he had been doing on the artillery strike, as captivating as it was. Pulling the microphone on his CVC helmet closer to his mouth, he keyed his tank's net.

"Paul, gun up, think I see something bearing about seventy-five."

Without response, the gunner went to work, the turret moving slightly left with a mechanical whirr, tragically knocking over the coffee in the mess tin which LTC Rose had left on the cupola, which earned a groan of disdain from the commander, yet he brought up his binoculars to check the direction in question. This, however, was cut short by a loud snap and a branch above his head splitting in two. A DShK had honed in, and Rose dropped into the commander's seat with a thud, rounds zipping over him wildly. Barely managing to close the hatch, he called over net. "Whatever the fuck that is, engage it!"

The cannon fired with a thunk, the breech knocking back in the turret satisfyingly.

[i]"One times T-80 immobilized![/i] The gunner barked back over net.

"Keep engaging 'em, guide on the other tank with tracers!" Rose ordered, before moving to press his eyes against his periscope, trying to ascertain the strength of their enemy. His receiver came to life with chatter, forcing him to sit back once more.

Before he could even ask for authentication, an anguished voice blew up the net. [i]"Flash, flash, flash! We just got strafed, we lost our second platoon! Savinski's down!"[/i] The voice was Captain Parks, the C Company commander, and the Savinski in question was his second-in-command, First Lieutenant Savinski.

"Orchard copies, continue counterfire, updated orders to follow!" Rose barked back, hoping to God that he wouldn't be next. The cannon fired again, and then a third time. The hull shook between loads, a 'tink' sound and a thud that let them know they somehow bounced a shot. The turret loaded, and fired a fourth time, and all crew held their breath.

[i]"Second T-80 is down! No other targets visible!"[/i]

For one cherished moment, they could take a breather.