Hello. So, I've almost finished this game, so I decided to write a fic about it. It will follow a different Squad through the War portrayed in the game. It will have plenty of ingame characters, and I'm going to expand on some of the extra characters (I take requests). Basically, this is the War, but from a different perspective.
Squad 7 will make several appeaences fighting alongside this squad. Also, since several characters don't appear to later, I took advantage of that to make them a part of this squad. Basically, this Squad will have several members of Squad 7 in it, and this will explain what happened to them and how they came to join Squad 7.
Finally, this will also have several OC characters.
"Soldier." A passing soldier said with a respectful nod. Nick returned it, in too much of a hurry to stop and chat. He'd received urgent orders from Gallian High Command ordering him to proceed directly to the Room 132 where an emergency strategy session had been called. The fact that thet'd decided to interrupt his final exam and drag him out of the classroom meant it must be important.
Still, despite his hurry, Nick couldn't help but notice the magnificent architecture of the enormous command center. Built within the capital city of Randgriz, the HQ was practically a part of the enormous castle, taking up the east wing of the enormous royal palace. Despite the fact that it held some of the most advanced equipment, military and otherwise, the Gallian military could offer, it still seemed to have an old world feel to it. Instead of steel, stone walls that were centuries old lined Nick's path, and medieval defenses like arrow slits remained substitutes for proper windows.
Nick soon found the door he was looking for. Room 132. Command and Control for Advanced Intelligence and Special Ops. Pretty much one of the blandest rooms possible, with one of the most secretive histories. Before stepping in, Nick looked down at his clothes, straightening his baggy grey sweatshirt and jeans. He hardly looked like any of the spit and polish soldiers walking around. Then again, the military had also decided to not issue him a uniform once he got here. With a quick knock, he opened the door.
Inside, there were several officers, all apparently busy working on their own projects. No one so much as looked up at him. The room was dimly lit, except for a single lamp that shown from the center f the room over an enormous map of Europa. The map was covered with small figures, each representing both the Federation and Empire's troop positions. Wedged in between them was Gallia, the small country that's ragnite ore was becoming increasingly important for both sides. Standing over it was a clean cut man with a Commander's bars and stripes on his uniform.
He looked up as Nick approached the table and stood at attention. "Ahh, Nick." He said before Nick could greet him. "I see you don't remember me."
Nick stared at him, quickly racking his brains before the commander was insulted. However, none of the man's features seemed familiar. No, that wasn't true. In fact, all of his features seemed familiar. So familiar that they could have been on the face of any person he'd ever met. Everything about the man seemed painfully bland. His face wasn't too pale or too dark. He had no facial hair, or at least had carefully shaved. His hair was simple brown that was cropped short of his brow, and even his uniform seemed neither two clean or two dirty.
"I saw you during your military training after high school. You completed three courses of tactics, basic training, and intelligence gathering." The commander took a small clipboard from a waiting aide, looking it over. "According to this, your basic training results were average. However, it is your Tactical and Intelligence training that interests me. Your grades were…Impressive to say the least."
Nick felt the eyes of several of the aides in the room turn to look at him, boring into his back. Nick simply looked straight, keeping his eyes level with the Commander's. "I recall passing those courses, sir."
"Indeed." The commander agreed. "In fact, you have one of the highest scores I've seen since…Well, since Commander Varrot."
"Who?" Nick asked, scratching his chin.
"Never mind." The commander said, waving his hand dismissively. "The point is that recent events on the Empire-Gallian border have raised tensions to the point of being a step away from war. What we are most worried about is here." The commander pointed at the small representation of Gallia's border on the map. "The small town of Bruhl on the border. We lost contact with it, along with Army units that were stationed nearby. We fear the worse."
"Naturally." Nick said, leaning over the map table. "Bruhl would make an excellent jumping point for the Imperial Army to launch a full-scale invasion. They would be in position to cut us off from our northern ragnite sources."
"Exactly. Which is why I called you here." The commander flipped through his clipboard, and pulled one of the sheets of paper out. He handed it to Nick who looked down in curiosity. There was a long list of people written down, along with what looked like the names of their relatives. Nick squinted a little carefully. In retrospect, he recognized one or two. There was a boy named Oscar Bielert and a woman named Catherine O'Hara.
Oscar he knew from his in western Gallia, and Catherine had been his rifle trainer in militia training. He'd lost contact with Oscar ten years ago, when an Imperial raiding party had attacked their village. It had been a time where Gallia and the Empire were at peace, but that didn't stop certain Imp units from making incursions across the border for personal gain. Catherine had fought in the First Europa War as a sniper, and been rather good at it. At least, that's what she'd told the new recruits.
"Hmmm," Nick mused, "I see some things in common with all of these people."
"Explain." The commander said, holding his hands behind his back.
"Simple," Nick shrugged, "My parents were killed when my village was invaded by the Empire. I know Catherine O'Hara fought in the First War, and Oscar…Oscar was in my village when it was destroyed. So, all these people-"
"Have a reason to hate the Empire." The plain faced man finished with a nod of approval. "I see the rumors of your genius were true."
"99.76 memory recall." Nick corrected. "Eidetic in nature."
"A photographic memory. I can see how that would be useful." The man looked back down at his clipboard and nodded. "I think you may be just the man for the job we have planned. I am Commander Offensich." He held out a hand and Nick shook it hesitantly.
"I have a special operation I'd like to put into play against the Empire." Offensich continued. "In a week, Gallia will put its conscription plans into effect and begin mustering militia units, but I've had you drafted ahead of time."
"How thoughtful." Nick said drily. Offensich laughed grimly, indicating the map before them. "The Empire is predicted to invade soon. Before long, we will lose access to our westbound rail system. This will cut us off from the ragnite stores there, and the Empire will take control."
"Why not simply begin reinforcing those areas?"
"Because there is simply not enough time to move substantial troops there. Even if we could move a powerful force there via the rail system, they would be destroyed piece meal." Offensich pointed at central Gallia, the large flat area before Castle Randgriz. "Instead, all forces are being channeled here to hold the predicted Imperial advance before they reach the capital. I however, believe that is a mistake."
Nick watched as Offensich pulled a pen from his chest pocket and drew a line across central Gallia, then a second line going through the mountains to the north. "This line represents the line the Army and militia plan to hold." He pointed at the line over central Gallia. "While this line is a mountain pass that could, in theory, allow a small supply line to be established. It is extremely rocky and unstable. At best, a it will be able to carry small arms, but this could be used to help supply a guerrilla force behind the Imperial advance."
"Ah," Nick cried, realization dawning, "You want me to join that force?"
Offensich shook his head. "No, I want you to lead it."
"Really!?" Nick laughed without humor. "And I want to marry Princess Randgriz, but that's not gonna happen."
"No, I'm serious." The Commander assured. "This mission requires an extremely advanced tactical mind, as you will be fighting without heavy tanks or weapons. Even lances will be rare. I'm talking rifles and machine guns. You'll have to scavenge and steal, and a lot of you will probably die. However, your primary mission is to engage the enemy behind its lines and disrupt the Empire's ragnite mining as best you can."
"So basically," Nick growled, "You want me and about," He looked down at the sheet in his hand, "Twenty other's to pretty much commit suicide fighting miles behind the main battle line against hopeless odds." Nick pretended to think for a moment, then shook his head.
"No thanks, I'd rather live."
"Really?" Offensich said in mock surprise. His voice lowered slightly, so only Nick could here. "Cuz' I thought you'd think about your parents, dying as your town burned around you. Your friends being rounded up and shot to hell. Your old friend Chelsea-"
Nick lashed out, aiming a fist at the commander's nose. The man caught it in his palm, twisting so Nick's wrist jerked in pain. Nick dropped to his knees in pain, but snapped his leg out, smashing his shin into Offensich's ankle, but it was like kicking steel. The commander looked down at him in apparent disinterest.
"That's more like it." He side, leaning down, bending Nick's wrist and arm back even farther as he did. "That's what we need for this mission. No apathy, no respect for the enemy. I need a cold and calculating fury. I need someone who can take his rage and chill it, turn it into focus, killing Imperials with it."
The commander was close enough now that he was whispering into Nick's ear. Around him, the aids continued working as though nothing had happened. Obviously this wasn't a first for them.
"I choose you because you have this rage, this rage you've pent up for years. It's been bursting to get out ever since your parents. Ever since Chelsea-"
"Shut up!" Nick roared., trying to get to his feet. The commander applied more pressure. "Shut up you son of a-"
"Oh, don't let it all out." The commander said, releasing his arms. "I need you to hold onto it. Now," he said, getting on one knee I front of Nick. "I'm not giving you a chance to commit suicide in some glorious crusade. Rather, I'm letting you kill Imps."
"K-Kill Imps." Nick stammered, holding his throbbing wrist.
"Yes, you feel that." The commander continued. "That's rage. It feels good, burning through you, doesn't it? It would feel better, killing those who killed your parents, murdering those who murdered your love. You know it, I know it, and that's why you'll accept this mission." With that, Offensich reached into his uniform's jacket, and pulled out a white handled hand gun. It was a revolver, with a long barrel and six chambers for bullets. Its handle was made of wood, but was ingrained with ivory and pearls. It clearly held some type of significance.
"I'm giving you this weapon." Offensich murmured, putting it in his hand. "It's up to you to use it."
With that, Commander Offensich went back to his aides, murmuring and whispering plans and logistics to them. Nick got up, his anger still burning a hole through his stomach. He looked at the revolver in his hand, feeling the smooth feel of the handle and the sharp angles of the beautiful steel barrel.
"Your train leaves in two hours. Station three, platform 9." He said, not even looking at Nick. "You are promoted to Lieutenant and given command of the Squad 8 of the Special Tactical Assault Battalion."
"STAB?" Nick whispered to himself more than anyone.
"Why, yes." Offensich exclaimed. "Rather convenient acronym for this." He stopped; closing a folder he'd been reading shut. "Now go and stab the Empire's heart out before they stab ours."
Catherine O'Hara watched as the squad she'd been assigned to began loading into the train. Of course, by board, she meant pile into a freight car that was normally used for cattle and other produce. The sliding doors were held open by a pair of army soldiers while a third handed out weapons to them.
"The GSR-25R." The man said, handing her a scoped rifle. The weapon had a beautiful wood finish that seemed to shine in the sun. She'd have to do something about that.
"Accurate at up to 1200 yards." He continued, handing her an ammunition belt and utility backpack. "I suggest not trying anything past 1000."
"Why?" She asked, aiming down the sight.
"Because, it losses lethality at 900. Unless you get a head shot, it won't do much."
"Luckily," Catherine said, throwing the backpack over her shoulder, "I always get head shots." She strode away, trying to not look around at the many people and soldiers crowding into the freight car. Briefly, Catherine considered going back to HQ and requesting a different assignment. She had not been told a target, objective, or point to their mission. Honestly, that unnerved her more than the apparent lack of lancers in the battalion. Not to mention that she hadn't seen tanks or artillery being loaded onto the train.
"Makes you wonder where they're sending us." She murmured to herself. She threw her rifle onto the car floor in order to free her hands and pulled herself onto the train with a grunt.
"Probably to the western border." A voice behind her said. She looked down, and saw a young man, his rifle hanging by a strap around his shoulder, swing himself up after her. The boy was young, probably only in his early twenties at most. His hair was cut short and spiked back, revealing a large x-shaped scar on the right side of his forehead.
"Rumor is that the Empire has begun skirmishes along the border." The boy continued, holding his hand out. "Name's Oscar. Sniper."
"Your name's Oscar Sniper?" Catherine questioned in an amused voice.
"No, I…Oh, your messing with me." Oscar growled, "Careful. I only let my friends mess with me."
"Hm, then maybe we should be friends fast." Catherine smiled at the boy, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm Catherine. Also a sniper."
"Really!" Oscar said, still not smiling. "Sounds like we'll be working together."
"More or less. Ready to kill some Imps?"
Something dark flashed over Oscar's face, a brief scene of pain and anger. "Very, very ready." He said quietly, sitting down in the corner of the freighter. He began disassembling his rifle, working and cleaning each part with a red rag he wore at his side.
"Well," Catherine said, as the door to the train slid shut, blocking out the sun except for a few thin slits. "Looks like there's no going back now."
1230 hours.
Day 1
Halfway to dispatch zone
Nick looked through one of the thin slits of the freight trains, watching the scenery flash by. He pushed the hood of his sweatshirt up, trying to catch some sleep before the train reached its destination. It would take about a full day before the train made its way.
"That is," He though, "Assuming the Imperial's don't interfere."The rumor was that, since attacking the skirmishes began along the border the Imperial incursions had gone deeper and deeper into Gallia. The worst of these said that their scouts had been seen as deep as Kloden, while the best (invariably government run newspapers) claimed the Empire had evacuated their positions on the border and payed Gallia back for damage done.
"Yeah, and maybe the Emperor will bend over and kiss our asses while he's at it." Nick still couldn't quite understand the logic behind their mission. The only thing it would do is pull the Empire's attention away from Randgriz. "And that's the point. Offensich wants to trade lives for time. That's why we're here."
According to the commander, he and his battalion were to wreak as much havoc as possible, rallying surviving militia units and army units into resistance cells. They would be resupplied through the mountain pass once a week by agents dispatched by headquarters. Their chief targets were supply lines, occupied ragnite mines, and enemy leaders. The heart of the enemy army.
Nick looked around at the men and women in his own car. Somehow, he doubted the Empire would take them seriously. Most of his troops were out of uniform, wearing a strange combination of the blue militia uniforms and street clothes. Many of their uniforms were essentially just the militia hats and blue armbands. Of course, he doubted that would make the Empire show anymore mercy for prisoners.
As for weaponry, most were lightly armed scouts and snipers. There were a few machinegun troopers thrown in, but absolutely no lancers, which could prove a problem if the Empire comes at them with tanks. His thoughts were interrupted suddenly.
"Sir." A girl voice said from behind, taking a knee next to Nick. "My name is Samantha. Call me Sam. I'm your second in command."
Nick looked up, turning his head to look at her. She was a young girl, very young and athletic. The girl wore a tight white top underneath a army green top that had no rank and matched her dark green pants. Shoulder holster was just visible underneath that. Inside, Nick could see the bulge of a pistol and more belts of ammunition. Her copper hair was short and held back by a green headband that wrapped around her head.
"I'm Lieutenant Nick." He said, crawling to his feet. "A pleasure."
"Yes sir." She said, standing at attention. "I figured I'd warn you that all the soldiers in this freighter car are ready to go and armed. "
"Right." He said, looking around at the men loitering around the car. "Make sure people stay frosty. Even when we're in this car, I don't really think we're out of danger."
"You expect an ambush?"
"I don't know." Nick confessed, "But-"
Nick found himself interrupted by a roar, and he felt his feet swept out from under him. A second later, Nick felt himself fly through the air. He heard, rather than felt the impact of his shoulder on the wall. He lay there for a second, his head throbbing. Then, everything went black.
I'll update soon. Please review! I'd love to here any suggestions or crits you have (Praise also accepted :). Also, if you want a certain character in, just request. I'm still prettty open plot wise. Have a happy Memorial weekend! (Or normal weekend if you're not in the U.S)