Strike Witches 28th Light Mechanized Company

I had this idea some time after writing the 5th chapter of the 401st. Enjoy.

* * *

"Bloody hell, they missed the goddamn drop point again…" muttered an Australis witch, wearing a battered, khaki uniform and a pair of Royal Air Force goggles on her dispatch rider helmet. Around her neck was a scarf, flowing slowly behind her as a small wind blew her. She was on her guard, a Quick Fire 2-pounder Witch Combat Rifle clutched in her hands. The Cadillac V8 magic engines of her AC1 Sentinel tracked legs grumbled quietly, and the Vickers machine gun rattled slightly as she stepped onwards.

As she neared the point she guessed the C-47 dropped the supplies, she took in the sights of the surrounding city. Ostmark had been the first nation to fall, and it showed with destroyed buildings, none that had been inhabited in the last few years. A chilly breeze blew leaves to the sky, which would then be transported to another spot on the cracked roads.

In another time, the witch could imagine the city as one seen in newspapers showing a parade of Ostmarikan troops, cheered by sideliners as their proud army marched past. The same army that would be wrecked years later protecting the evacuation, as unknown black terrors brought fire from the sky, unharmed by weapons meant for organic flesh.

Eventually she found the crate, lying on top of a mound of grass, one of the few living things other than the witches in a 100 kilometer radius. "Keep of the grass, mate…" She peered into a slit in the crate, grateful to find the month's supply of ammunition and food, among other scarce objects. She grabbed her radio set, checking her surroundings before putting her mouth to the receiver. "Come in, come in, this is Lost Emu." The call sign was a play on the girl; a tall, flightless witch, born down under and somehow found her way to east Europe. Her familiar was also an emu, a long, grey tail flowing behind her.

"This is Greyhound, make it quick, Lost Emu," replied a voice with a rough, Ostmarikan accent. The witch swiftly took out a map with her free hand, and checked her surroundings once again. "I've found the milk in sector Baker George, need assistance in carrying the load." "Copy that, Lost Emu. East in nearby and will come over," said the other witch, a tone of happiness. "Roger that. Over and out." She put the radio away carefully, and slung the 2-pdr over her shoulder.

She was in the middle of stretching her arms, when the telltale sound of mechanical legs pounded the ground. '_Shit, the must've spotted it!...' _She reached for her gun, and dashed behind a low wall, pressing herself onto the ground.

A small hole on the bottom of the stone wall gave her a view of several mutated Ostmarikan tankettes. The once proud armor now only served as a body for the soulless beast that infected it. It was corroded to jet black, with a hex pattern covering its entire shell. In several of these hexagons, the color of bright red separated itself from the black, which housed the main weapon of the Neuroi: a horrifying laser that cut through metal as well as flesh.

The vehicle was then flipped over, and legs protruded from it, giving it the form of a robotic arachnid. And that was only one example of the smallest type to be found. Despite its menacing appearance though, the witch was capable of destroying it in less than a minute. She used to be able to destroy it in a few seconds from long range, but the Neuroi developed 'cores' in early 1944.

But as much as eliminating the alien was a beautiful thought, the witch could not destroy it, lest she alert every single neuroi in the area, which would not be a clever idea for she was laying on what one may call a 'buffer zone'. She instead had to stay put where she was as the being inspected the object that had dropped from the sky moments ago. '_Well, bugger off!'_

The alien did not comply, and it began circling the box, its friends sitting down nearby, as if taking a break. The neuroi prodded it, using one of its long legs to nudge the crate. After awhile, it seemed that they were about to leave. '_About time!...' _But then the spider that had been inspecting the delivery took one last look at the crate, and its red spots glowed brightly. '_So much for covert…' _She quickly donned her goggles, pulled up her scarf to her mouth, and whispered one word:

"Dustbunny…"

A large storm of earth flung into the air, startling the neuroi as its laser missed by a mile. The heavier minerals fell back to the ground, but dirt and sand continued to blow from every direction.

She stood up, firing a shell at the exact same spot the core would be found; where the engine would have been. The Armor Piercing round hit its target, and revealed a large crystal like object that served as the center. She fired another, destroying it and adding an explosion of confetti-like material to the sandstorm. The Australis witch then jumped over the wall, plowing through fury like the sand was nothing.

The other aliens panicked, firing wildly, but she didn't even bother putting up a shield. She picked them off one at a time, the fast reload capability of the 40mm rifle showing its ability at close range. They screamed in agony, unable to land a shot on the terrifying girl attacking them.

Eventually, she cut off her magic, the sand and dirt stopping abruptly, and it all fell to the ground. The witch pulled her goggles up, and shook her blond hair free of sand. No signs that the spiders walked here were left. She sighed in relief, and pulled the scarf down.

She heard clanking behind her, and quickly turned, pointing her gun at the source. But it wasn't a neuroi; it was her fellow witch, Roza Edmonda Orlik. She was 'East', coming from the fact she was from eastern Karlsland, which differed from the rest of the nation by having a different language.

She was also wearing a striker created in the east, the 7TP. Slung over her shoulder was the 37mm Bofors wz. 37 Witch Combat Rifle and a mounted Ckm wz.30 machine gun was installed on the left leg. Roza sheepishly raised her arms in surrender, and the Australis girl sighed in annoyance. "You know we have a code for telling us apart from the enemy, don't you?" She lowered her weapon and brushed some sand off her uniform. Roza shook her head. "You used it near the crate?! You want sand on our ammo and food, Theodora?!"

The girl smirked. "Oh please. We both know they always cover the bloody things with plastic. Now let's get this thing the hell out of here before another patrol ambushes us." The Karlslander nodded, and they both picked up the crate with on hand each. "When we finally free this damn country, I'm going up to the bloody crew responsible for dropping these things…" Theodora muttered, and they walked back to their base.

* * *

"Flash!"

"Lightning! Welcome back."

The phrase used by Liberian special forces was coined by the girls of the 28th. It was quick, simple, and the Neuroi had no chance of screeching it with whatever vocal chords they used. The one to greet them was Roberta 'Betty' Semple, a Kiwilander so creatively called 'Kiwi'. Although she was off duty, her strikers were never far from her, a pair of M3 Stuart light tracked legs, an 37mm M6 Witch Combat Rifle leaning on the wall next to it and an M1919A4 Browning mounted on the right unit.

She helped bring in the crate, into what the witches have called 'home' for quite some time. One of Roberta's few successful creations; it was a two story building with concrete, hidden from view in the form of a large hill. Inside, it was dimly lit with a stockpile of candles found in Ostmark's many cities, and no windows existed; only small slit holes to stick a weapon through.

The second floor was how they kept watch around them. There were several windows, each covered with camouflage netting to hide the witches that did night watch behind them. The structure has proven its worth, as not a single alien that walked pass would survive.

No other witches were present at the moment, mostly out doing patrols. The trio opened the box, and began splitting the contents into groups. "Right, a hundred more kinds 37mm rounds to add to storage, a couple more 75mm shells for the hero, several clips of 40mm rounds for both you and the commander, and as always, food for a month," Roza said as they took it all out. She then began looking at the other random items. "A bundle of this month's newspapers, a flare and what's this?" She picks up an envelope. "Battle plans? Are we going to war now?"

"Let me see that," Theodora said, taking the large envelope from her. Indeed, the words 'battle plans' were printed in capital letters. "We better wait until Husky, Code and Greyhound get back," Roberta decided, snatching the mail and folded it into her breast pocket before the Australis witch could tear it open. Said witch shrugged, and took some 40mm clips, putting them into her ammo pouch. "I ran into a patrol getting these." She then walks into her room, a small 3x3 meter area, and got herself changed.

_ 'I should wear a jacket more often, this crap gets into everything!' _She unbuttoned her uniform, revealing a body that made her the target of multiple photographers. A simple beige tank top that went with her panties covered her perfectly sized chest. '_At least these didn't get soiled…'_ Giggling softly at her pun, she opened a small chest, and pulled out her extra uniform. '_Hello, you fresh little-' _*squish* '_eh?!...'_

"What a perfect way to get back!" Theodora turned her head slowly, and saw the overjoyed face of a grey haired witch. She also noticed that the girl had closed the door behind her. "What are you doing, Emilia?!" The Baltic witch, Emilia Austlid, continued to grope the Australis girl, gently massaging her. "I just came back from a tiring patrol, so I need some fun~" Theodora gritted her teeth, but she was enjoying the soft touch of the other girl. Without realizing it, a low moan hummed in her throat.

"J-just don't be rough…" Emilia giggled. "You know I'm never like that~" One of her hands let go, and a finger began rubbing against Theodora's vital spot. "You're already a bit wet, Theo~" The Australis girl squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to not make any dirty noises that may bother the other witches. Emilia's soft breathing touched her neck, and the Baltic witch gently pulled them onto the small bed.

Meanwhile, Roberta was ushering in the commander and her vice inside. Etilka Tarczay and Lydia Bouck, Husky and Greyhound. They were the probably the best reconnaissance witches the Allied forces had. Etilka was a true force of discipline, embodying the honor of Ostmark's former glory. Lydia was a tough witch, who once held off a battalion sized offensive of light ground neuroi, only using her 37mm M6 Witch Combat Rifle, an M2 Browning mounted on her striker and very, VERY light artillery support. Due to this, more Liberian witches joined the recon forces, using the extremely light and fast M8 Greyhound armored wheel legs, just like Lieutenant Bouck.

"How was the walk, Etilka, Lydia?" Roberta asked, lighting a new candle. "Not much to say, the Neuroi must be lazy today," Etilka replied, setting her 40M Turan I tracked legs with its 40mm Skoda A17 Witch Combat Rifle next to Roberta's unit. Lydia nodded in agreement, also taking off the Greyhounds.

Etilka noticed Roza, who was bending over and looking through Theodora's keyhole. "Hey Roza, what's going on?" The Karlslander looked back at the Ostmarikan, her face flushed red. "N-nothing commander!" The three witches looked at her curiously, and then they all heard a large scream. "Theo, are you alright?!" Roberta yelled, and she lightly pushed aside Roza, opening the door.

All four witches found Emilia and Theodora lying next to each other, both panting loudly. Emilia had a happy grin on her face, and several of her fingers had a trail of liquid that lead to… Theo's private area. Her uniform was rustled, and it seemed her panties were wet. She put the fingers into her mouth, and licked it clean. Theodora on the other hand had a very satisfied smile, her eyes pulled up, her arms stretched next to her head, and was noticeably shaking. A line of saliva poured from her mouth, some of it most likely not hers.

The witches at the door were dumbfounded, and Etilka gently closed the door again. The witches on the bed looked at each other, and giggled. They cuddled, their mouths' belonging to one another. Later that day, the other witches had a reasonably enjoyable night, the thoughts of the other two on their minds as they did their usual activities. The Australis and Baltic witches were the ones up for night watch, and they watched the countryside blanketed by moonlight together. "That was an interesting afternoon…" Theo muttered. Emilia playfully punched her shoulder, and Theo gave her a wary smile.

* * *

Downstairs, Roberta pulled out the letter, and handed it to Etilka. "Are we going to fight, ma'am?" The Ostmarikan witch looked at the contents, her expression grim. "Igen, it's hive duty…" Roberta also gave a sour face. "We better tell Hiroku later…"


End file.

Strike Witches, Adventure