Okay, BIG disclaimer here.
YES, I am aware that Bungie and Halo used ODSTs or "Helljumpers" and I acknowledge that my fanon Lylatian version- the OIATs- are based off of and are inspired by the ODSTs of the Halo series. Before you say that's uncreative and unfair, hear me out. I used the concept of orbital insertion troops because not only is it cool, it's a logical sci-fi way to get troops planetside. Plus, I can use the idea. I mean, Star Wars used blasters. That doesn't mean other sci-fi media can't use them. You can think that my choice to use the OIATs or even to write this was stupid, but I don't want to see flames saying I ripped Bungie off.
Additionally, I must say that this chapter has a bit of language. You have been warned.
If you understand where I'm coming from, continue reading and don't leave flames.
Alpha Priority Channel:
COM Channel Found and Locked
Stand By for Transmission…
…
…
…
Cornerian Terrestrial Command EMERGENCY Priority
Order 0998677A-1
Encryption Code: Red
From: 4th Marine Corp JOC/501st OIAT Division/ "Blue Army"
To: Ranking Officers, Companies A, C, D, and F
Subject: IMMEDIATE ACTION Required
/start file/
Item: Forward elements of unidentified OPFOR spearhead/armored division has attacked grid seven-two by three-nine. Standing Blue Army forces overrun or in retreat. Casualties estimated at seventy two percent.
OPFOR has a powerful force of armor and has tactical air support. Red Army forces were superior to defending Blue Army forces. Primary Red Army armored column approaching northern entrance to Merot Route A27-Z and Causeway Alpha and surrounding area with infantry and air support. Other infantry elements believed to be on the flanks in the forests. Enemy is believed to be heading south to capture Moret Route A27-Z and by-pass Lake Meric.
Conclusion: Moret Route A27-Z and Causeway Alpha and primary route to Blue Army Command Post in danger of falling to OPFOR. Orbital drop of Companies A, C, D, and F of 501st OIAT Division is to commence immediately.
Objective: To establish defense perimeters on western end of Causeway Alpha and along northern and southern entrances to Forest Route A27-Z (Upload file: positionchange1729-A/Company D/CTC.fbr.077) Causeway Alpha is mined. MLR and objective of enemy is believed to be Moret Route A27-Z
CODE-WORD: (Start of Orbital Drop): "Shard-2-Alpha Foxtrot"
/end file/
1549 Hours, 5/12/2435
Great Kruitian Forest, grid 220 by 177
140 tm north of Corneria City, Corneria
Corporal Jacob Morian and his fellow Orbital Insertion Assault Troopers, or OIATs, bounced violently in his hastily rigged seats in the bed of the heavy truck. The vehicle was an ungainly, ugly old wheeled vehicle, known as a GPA, or General Purpose Auxiliary to the Cornerian Space Marine Corp. But to any Marine unfortunate enough to ride in one, the truck was known with scorn as a General Pain in the Ass.
Corporal Morian couldn't argue with that. Couldn't Blue Army Command have sent some nice anti-grav trucks to take them out here? He thought bitterly as his posterior came down on his tail. The husky growled through his teeth.
With little else to do, Morian reviewed the transmission from Blue Army Command again on his helmet mounted Heads-Up Display. The war games had been quiet for the last three days after the "Blue Army"- a mashed together coalition of the three Corps of CTC Marines, two armored divisions, and one Orbital Insertion division - had pushed the strategically weak "Red Army" back into the forest of the Kruitian Mountain Range.
Corporal Morian was far from angry or disappointed however. For almost the entire operation the 501st OIAT division had been sitting on its tail. Now he and the other "Jumpers" were finally headed for the war, even if it was a simulated one.
For three days after its assault on the region, the Blue Army, representing a CDF Expeditionary Force complete with starships, air support, and a massive ground force, had been simply holding the line against the Red Army. The Reds were, according to the war games, a large rogue para-military force bent on crippling local CDF forces and overthrowing the Lylatian Republic government. The exercise was loosely based on a typical campaign during the Katinian Separatist War, where a large contingent of Katinian colonists overthrew the standing colonel government. The CDF responded and for three years the two sides slugged it out in a bitter and bloody guerrilla war.
The prerequisites of the scenario had the Red Army following the pattern of the Separatists; they attacked a CDF base, made off with equipment, and then retreated to conduct sporadic attacks. Moret Base, a small CDF outpost, had been the Red's target and it had survived as a kind of headquarters for them before the Blues recaptured it. The Red Army had scattered and disappeared into the vast Kruitian Forest.
For three days, there was quiet, although the unsettling calm was occasionally punctuated by a guerilla strike on Moret Base. The standing Blue forces became almost complacent as the line stayed calm and plans were drawn up for an assault into the woods to trap the opposing forces.
But none had expected the events of today. Three hours ago the silence and order of the battlefield was shattered as the Red Army broke cover and counterattacked with a sizeable force of infantry and armor. Focusing on precise points of attack, the Red Army had overrun several Blue Army defensive points and then surged through the gaps. They charged south, slipping by the forces at Moret Base and then headed through virgin country unmolested towards the Blue Army Joint Operations Command Center, their likely objective. Such a move would likely mean victory for the Reds. The Blue Army was caught flatfooted and Command saw only one chance at stopping them. They had a plan, but there was virtually no chance that a sizeable force could establish a solid defensive line before the Red Army's armored column arrived.
That is, of course, except for the Orbital Insertion Assault Troopers.
The cream of the Cornerian Marine Corp, the OIATs were a special kind of trooper. They were garrisoned aboard the big carriers and supercarriers of the Navy and were deployed to a planetary surface in two-man Personal Entry Vehicles or PEVs. In most planetary operations, the OIATs would be the first to hit the dirt, where they would secure landing zones and rendezvous points for the regular infantry that would follow.
Blue Army Command's one chance at stopping the Red Army advance would be Lake Meric. The lake was vast, deep, and impossible to ford and its only crossing, a terrameter-and-a-half long causeway identified as Causeway Alpha was heavily mined by CDF engineers. The brass up at the JOCC had determined the enemy column would head down a road that ran along Lake Meric's western coast. The road, called Moret Route A27-Z, seemed the logical bypass to the causeway and the easiest way to slip by the lake. The brass decided the Red Army would avoid Causeway Alpha because of its mines. Therefore, blocking the road would stop the enemy forces or at the very least buy some time for the Blues to regroup. All that was needed was a force to block the road.
And so the 501st OIAT Division was called in.
Cpl. Jacob Morian, like all OIATs, was a volunteer. It took a special kind of crazy to join the OIAT units. His motives for signing up with the outfit, hardly unique to him, were a mixture of bravado, daring, and youthful exuberance. It was also a matter of salary; one hundred and fifty Lylatian Credits a month for 'Hazard Pay' plus the standard monthly marine salary of one hundred Credits.
Twenty years old and now in his second year with the 'five-oh-first', Morian had fancied himself dropping from orbit, weapon at the ready, killing a couple of Separatists here and there, maybe get a medal or two, and then… well, he'd settle that when his service was over.
Reality however was less exciting. Corporal Morian had yet to make an actual orbital drop, whether in practice or in war. When he heard the 501st was going to take part in the summer war games, he had hoped he would finally taste the thrill of a real orbital drop.
It was not to be. The PEVs, or Personal Entry Vehicles, were too expensive to throw away for training and Morian's 'drop' into the region was in the back of an outdated truck. To all the Jumpers, it was anti-climatic.
OIAT deployments were hardly a show of accuracy. Most drops of company size, ninety-six marines and their equipment, scattered the group over an area averaging 3 tm. To simulate this, the Jumpers would be randomly put down in pairs at points dictated by the referees. Delta Company, Morian's company, was to be inserted in grid two-two-zero by one-seven-seven.
Morian turned to the marine next to him, his "pod buddy", the individual who would share his PEV in a real drop. His name was Private David Odekirk, one of the company's Squad Automatic Weapon- or SAW- gunners. The young gray feline's small stature seemed a strange contrast to the large M210 light machine gun that rested in his lap.
A rookie in every sense of the word, Morian had taken it upon himself to look after 'Odie', as the other marines called him. He looked nervous, his eyes scanning the dull, emotionless faces of the other Jumpers as he compulsively worked the sights of his light machine gun.
"You all right Odie?" said Morian. The little gunner didn't hear him, so he repeated with a louder voice. Odie turned quickly to face him, startled.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied nervously. Morian produced a pack of cigarettes from his ammo vest, put one in his mouth, and offered another to Odie, who refused it.
"All right," he said his voice almost a whisper against the roar of the engine. He lit the cigarette with a lighter and inhaled deeply. He liked this brand, Royal Strikes, virtually harmless to his lungs but still satisfying. Gotta love those nano-filters Morian thought to himself.
He looked around at the rolling hills that defined the borders of the field. He hadn't checked his surroundings since the company had left Blue Army JOC almost three hours ago. He was surprised by what he saw, or rather by what he didn't see- the other trucks. Their vehicle, only carrying a twelve-strong squad, was alone.
Morian turned to Odie. "Hey, where the hell's the rest of the company?" he inquired. The feline gave him a quizzical look.
"We broke away from the convoy about an hour and a half ago," he replied, "Didn't you see?"
"No," said Morian, he growled softly through his teeth, "is the damn driver lost?"
"Probably," said another Jumper, an avian, sitting across from Morian and Odie. He was Matthew Jerris. A tall, imposing specimen of OIAT Marine, Jerris seemed almost cut out to be one of Delta Company's 'rocket jockeys', those who operated the Multi-Mode Ordnance Delivery System, or MMODS, rocket launcher. His ammo carrier sat beside him, nodding in agreement.
"That's not it," said a young vixen, Private first class Amy Perla, "We got the shit drop."
A chorus of obscenities filled the air. The 'shit drop' was an OIAT's greatest fear in both simulated and actual warfare. Orbital drops hardly went as planned often due to a number of factors. Sometimes, entire units were inserted terrameters from their assigned drop-zones. In actual operations this event was random, but to maximize 'accuracy' in war games, the referees would always miss-drop a portion of OIATs whenever they were involved. The unlucky unit, sometimes an entire division, would be dropped far from their objectives and have to haul it to their DZs.
"Damn it," said Jerris, "where the hell are we anyway?"
"The middle of fuckin' nowhere. That's the point isn't it?" replied Morian bitterly.
A figure interrupted the Jumpers' small talk as he emerged from the driver's cabin of the truck.
"First drop!" bellowed the figure, Staff Sergeant Hood, Platoon Sergeant of 1st Platoon. His voice was not hindered by his helmet, which the noncom often went without. The panther's booming voice easily overcame the truck's buffeting and whirring.
"Morian, Odekirk! You're lucky number one!"
"Where the hell are we Sarge?" said Odie.
"Where your sorry ass enters combat Marine!" barked Sergeant Hood, "Now you and Morian get your asses off this truck before I have to show you how!"
Odie started a 'Yes sir' before Morian grabbed his arm and pulled him to the ground. He was not ready for this and 135 kilos of feline, gear, and light machine gun fell to the ground, to the enormous delight of the rest of the platoon.
"Hey look!" cried one of them, "Odie made the first drop of the day!" A chorus of laughter erupted as Odie struggled to his feet. The sound gradually disappeared as the truck began to pull away. Soon, even the rumbling of the vehicle's engine was a whisper and then nothing.
"Sorry rookie," offered Private Morian as he met Odie's angry expression. The Corporal tapped his helmet, "Is your HUD still workin' after that?" he said, trying to restrain his laugher.
"Shut your damn mouth Morian," he replied. He pulled his visor over his eyes and tapped the side of his helmet. "Yeah, my HUD's good."
"Okay," said Morian pulling down his own visor and activating it. The world suddenly came to life before his eyes. There was a bright flash followed by a dark void as the Heads Up Display calibrated to the lighting conditions. When this was done, small images appeared on the edges of his periphery; a compass rose, a COM link status indicator, and the crosshairs and battery charge display for his M231 rifle and its under slung M108 grenade launcher.
Using a keypad on his left arm, Morian scrolled through some of his HUD subsystems until he found the regional map. He selected it and a bird's eye view of the immediate appeared before him. He could see the forest areas and Lake Meric, straight through which ran Causeway Alpha. Morian noted the highlighted regions of his map to the west, where the field led onto Moret Road A27Z, their objective. From there, the OIATs were to set up road blocks and halt the Red Army advance.
"All right Odie," said Morian, "I'm uploading the SAT view of the area." He paused a few seconds, "Got it?"
"Yep."
"Okay, see the highlighted area?"
"Yes, that's our objective. Our intended DZ is two terrameters south of it," replied Odie.
Morian manipulated a few more options on his HUD and ascertained his and Odie's location. A green point indicating the two marines appeared on the map… fifteen terrameters east of Moret Road A27Z, the objective, and the rest of D company.
"Dammit!" said an exasperated Private Odekirk.
"Yeah, that's how I'd sum it up too," replied Morian. He inhaled once more, tossed his cigarette to the ground and mashed it into the grassy field with his boot.
"Well," he went on, "if that's where we gotta be, we'd better get a move on. It's not that big a deal. The Reds shouldn't be coming near the road for a few hours."
"Can we cover fifteen terrameters in a few hours? This whole thing's a clusterfuck."
Morian sighed. "Hey Boot, if you're gonna use the slang, use the right words. This isn't a clusterfuck- that's when a bunch of brass screws us over."
"Oh yeah?" replied Odie, slightly embarrassed, "What would you call this?"
Morian thought for a moment, and then simply replied "Snafu," he paused again, "but not just any snafu, more like classic OIAT snafu."
"Snafu? That's it?"
"Yep, situation normal all-"
"I know what it means," said Odie apprehensively, "But since when does a 'normal situation' require us to haul tail for fifteen terras?"
"Let me guess Odie; when you joined the OIATs, you didn't expect this much walkin' huh?" he said jokingly.
Odie was silent for a few minutes before he spoke again.
"And to think the others gotta go even farther then us," he griped quietly. Morian grumbled in frustration.
"Hey rookie, less talk talked, more walk walked, okay?"
"Got im'," said Master Sergeant Sarah Locke as she cradled the high powered weapon in her hands. The black furred lupine followed her target, a Red Army scout, as he broke cover and scanned his surroundings with a set of binoculars. She tracked him with her M214 sniper rifle, making minute compensations and adjustments as the clueless scout moved to the right.
The young ape lying prone next to Sgt. Locke, his right eye pressed to a powerful field scope on a tripod, Lance Corporal Witkins sighed quietly. "You've been watching that damn scout for almost an hour. Why don't you just take him out?"
"Because I want to see who or what he's scouting for," said Locke matter-of-factly, her eye not even straying from the scope.
"We're not even in our assigned position," countered Witkins, "STA team seven probably has him under observation."
"I doubt it," replied Locke, still tracking the lone scout, "Most of the platoon's scattered and I haven't received a confirmation that this grid's being watched. So, we stay and watch the line."
"Well why are we watching the causeway anyway? The engineers mined it two days ago. The Reds know it and they're gonna go down Road A two-seven Z."
"First of all, if we move now, we'll be seen. If not by him then a counter-sniper team and then we're both dead. Second, why are there any Reds even near the causeway? Intel says they shouldn't be there. If they are there, I wanna know why and the JOC wants to know too. And third, I not only outrank you, but you're my spotter and you do what I tell you. Now shut up unless you see something, okay Corporal?"
"All right, all right," said Corporal Witkins in mock surrender, "I'll keep my eye out for any more Reds."
Sgt. Locke allowed herself a smile as she continued to watch the scout. Even though the rifle's 7.62mm solid, armor-piercing rounds had been swapped out for a laser system that the referees used to recognize who she had 'killed', the lady wolf still felt that tremendous power only a sniper feels; once a target is in the sights, their life was directly in control of the soldier behind the rifle.
Her unit, the 8th Scout/Target Acquisition platoon of the 501st Orbital Assault Division, had been 'dropped' on the northern and southern banks of Lake Meric two hours before the main force. In their teams of two they were assigned to recon the incoming Red force and, as a secondary option, to take out any targets of opportunity or harass the enemy column. Sgt. Locke and her spotter Cpl. Witkins had been dropped on the southern end of the lake.
But even STA teams were not immune to the referees' "mis-drops" and while Locke and Witkins were supposed to cover the southern-most end of Moret Road A27Z, they had ended up sixteen terrameters to the east and now found themselves in dense cover on the southern end of Causeway Alpha. After hiking for an hour, Locke had elected to set up here and see if any enemy units showed up. The single Red Army scout she was now watching had appeared forty five minutes ago and Locke had assumed her primary role, observation.
It was rather surprising to see a Red Army soldier on the southern end of the causeway. Blue Army Command had assured the Jumpers going in that the causeway was mined and there was no way even a single trooper could get across. The scout was alone. But despite his surprising position, nothing else strange or interesting had happened. The Red stayed under cover for periods of about ten minutes, came out for a peek at the area before disappearing into the vegetation under the trees. But Locke knew something was up and she was going to find out, no matter how long it might take.
That is, after all, what my job demands, she mused, patience.
"Uh…boss?" came Witkins shaky voice.
"What is it?"
"I've got more Reds on the causeway."
"What?" Locke was surprised by this. She turned her rifle quickly to view Causeway Alpha. And indeed there they were- six enemy soldiers. Through her scope she could identify their shoulder insignia: 2nd Engineer Division. They were sappers and that could only mean one thing, they were attempting to clear the bridge of mines.
"Sarge, if I may-."
"No need to Witkins," replied Locke. She lined up her sights on the lead engineer and looked for that perfect angle. It was a straight-line shot and the distance wasn't great. She suddenly noticed the wind, or rather the lack of it. Good, no compensation there. The wolf maneuvered the crosshair on the sapper's chest and squeezed the trigger.
Rather then a 7.62mm bullet however, an ultra-fine, harmless, and invisible laser shot from the weapon's muzzle. When it hit the sapper it activated a sensor that, quite literally, told him he was dead. In compliance with this, he dropped to the ground. His companions saw this and hit the dirt.
Bang, you're dead, thought Locke to herself as she let a telltale smile cross her features. She mentally made a count of 'one' as she lined up her next shot.
After her second shot, Sgt. Locke knew she had to move. If there were counter-snipers on the other side, they would find her quickly. She flipped the safety on her rifle, slung it over her shoulder, and ushered Lance Corporal Witkins to follow her. The two disappeared into the trees.
Roughly thirty minutes and four terrameters had passed since Morian and Odie had been dropped. The pair had worked their way to within in visual range of the southern end of Causeway Alpha. There was still no sign of the platoon or any other parts of D Company. That made both marines nervous. But Morian had the most to worry about in his companion.
Odie was fast becoming a head-case; a marine who had too much time in the field. It was a normal thing to be expected in war, but only after days or weeks or months of fighting; Private Odekirk had been in the field for barely four hours.
Still, it wasn't uncommon for marines to even experience the emotions of futility in training ops. The little machine gunner was acting irritable and bitter. Over time, this had evolved into paranoia and acute fear. Now he was refusing to put his visor back on. It showed, to Morian at least, how new and unaccustomed to even a simulated combat environment Private Odekirk was.
He tried to be humorous, if only to alleviate the cat of at least some of his fear.
"How's the rear Odie?" the Corporal asked. He had assigned Odie as the rear element in their formation. It was not at all a wise tactical decision; machine guns were usually put at the head of a column to allow maximum possible suppressing fire in case an enemy was found. But Morian had decided that Odie was hardly up to the job mentally.
"I just know their comin' from the rear Morian," replied Odie apprehensively, "they're in the damned grass- just waitin' to get us…"
This was not a good sign. The young gunner was gripped with acute fear. Morian could see it in his actions and hear it in his tight little voice. If they didn't find the company soon, Odie might become a liability.
"Hey Odie, why don't we take a breather?" offered Morian. Odie spun quickly to face him, the look of a trapped animal in his eyes.
"We can't stop here!" he begged, almost shouting, "The enemy is everywhere! They're just waiting for us to stop! We've gotta-."
Morian stopped the young private. "Odie, calm down. We're in Blue territory. If there's anyone out here, it's our own troops."
"Well then Mr. Corporal, where are they?" Odie snapped back.
Bitter, paranoid, and insubordinate… Boy, this sure is going well… Morian thought. He paused for an answer and then pointed towards the causeway in the distance.
"They're all over there waiting for us to join them. But we don't have to worry about them," he said with a dismissing wave of his hand, "we can stop for a few minutes."
Odekirk looked unconvinced and he began scanning the field with those wild eyes again. His body was coiled tighter then a spring. So much so that Morian feared that he would be bisected by the cat's machine gun if he put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Combat fatigue and heavy weapons were often a disastrous mix.
"We won't have to fight," Morian tried. Odie's eyes suddenly lit up at this possibility. He flipped the safety on his machine gun and sat on the ground. Morian took one more look around for any movement and then sat down in front of his squad mate.
The field was filled with the serene sounds of nature. A gentle breeze of air drifted through the tall grass. If Morian hadn't known he was in the middle of a simulated war on Corneria, he would have thought he was home on Katina. The field here was a lot like the ones he had spent his summers camping in back home. Morian suddenly had an overwhelming urge to lie on his back and watch the clouds go by. Just like summer on Katina…
"Man its quiet," said Odie in a much calmer voice. Morian looked at his buddy and saw that he had calmed down significantly. His shoulders were slumped and the look of fear was gone from his eyes. His machine gun lay in his lap. It was as if the tall grass had suddenly become a shield to the real world and its war. Morian and Odekirk relished in it.
"Yeah, quieter then a Lotus," replied Morian and instantly wished he hadn't said that. Mentioning the CDF's light airborne reconnaissance craft might make Odie nervous again. But the gunner simply acknowledged the comment with a reply.
"Ah hell Corporal," he said, "compared to this, a Lotus sounds like a hurricane."
No sooner had Odie said this that both heard a sound. It was faint, like a high pitched whistle. Both looked at each in disbelief and realized that it was getting louder.
Morian gingerly poked his head above the tall grass and looked to where the sound was coming from. He felt like laughing when he saw the tiny Lotus hovering over the causeway. He whispered to Odie what he saw.
"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" he cried out and took a look himself. He picked up his machine gun and sighted the tiny observation ship.
"No! Hold your fire!" said Morian in a hoarse whisper, "He doesn't know we're here. Let's keep it that way."
"We can't just sit here!"
Morian didn't care; he intended to do just that. He didn't even now if the Lotus was hostile, but he didn't want to find out the hard way. But Odie's argument became quickly became more valid as the Lotus dipped its nose and started heading towards them. He scanned his surroundings and saw a group of trees to his left.
"Come on! Let's make for the trees!" he ordered. The pair ran, or at least went as fast they could while trying to stay below the grass. Every now and then, Morian checked over his shoulder to see if the Lotus was following them.
Then, the craft banked right and headed away. Morian smiled. "I think we lost him!" he called to Odie's attention. Both looked to watch the Lotus fly away.
Unfortunately, neither marine was watching where they were headed nor had either one noticed the shallow ditch in their path. The two Jumpers suddenly found a lack of footing and they tumbled into the ditch, cursing as they did.
After a moment, they struggled to their feet and dusted themselves off. As he rose up, Odie noticed something in front of him. The Jumper walked aimlessly forward.
"Yeah, I'm fine Private, thanks for asking," said Morian bitterly as he brushed the dirt from his rifle. He looked to where Odekirk should have been, but he was not there.
"Odie?" he inquired and began looking for the wayward private. Odekirk revealed himself suddenly as he burst through an area of tall grass. Morian and Odie raised their weapons to fire but quickly depressed them. Odie raced towards Morian.
"They're everywhere Morian!" he said in a shrill, panicky voice, "all over the damned causeway!" The wild look was back in his eyes.
"Okay Odie, calm down. Let me see-," Morian started towards the hedge but Odekirk quickly grabbed him.
"No!" he cried, "They'll see you! They've got infantry, armor, and artillery!" He looked around quickly. "A sniper!" he said finally, "We've got to find a sniper!" And with that, the little machine gunner raced into the wooded area.
More concerned about the sanity of his squad mate then this supposed enemy force, Corporal Morian took off after Odekirk. He had good reason to think that Odie had finally snapped. Besides, he mused, the Reds tanks and guns were still hours away from Causeway Alpha. And another thing, the causeway was mined so heavily not even a foot soldier could cross it in one piece.
He ran for about two minutes before he found another hedge of tall grass. Cautiously he made his way through, only to be met with the muzzle of an M271 PDW and its ape wielder.
"Shard Alpha Foxtrot!" Morian cried out the OIATs identification code words. The ape lowered his submachine gun and looked Corporal Morian over. When he noticed the comet insignia of the 501st OIAT division, he smiled and offered his hand.
"Lance Corporal Witkins, 7th STA platoon. It's good to see some you Corporal," he said as he and Morian shook hands.
"I'm Morian, 1st platoon, Delta Company," replied Morian, "You haven't by any chance seen a gray cat in OIAT combat gear come by have you?"
The Lance Corporal was about to say something, but the black wolf that Morian hadn't noticed spoke first.
"Oh, is this yours?" she said angrily, her left hand gripped Private Odekirk's wrist in a death grip. The feline squirmed to get away.
Morian exhaled a sigh of relief. "Yes, I was looking for him," he chuckled.
The lady wolf released Odekirk who fell to the ground. She approached Corporal Morian.
"Master Sergeant Locke, sniper," she said with a cold, emotionless voice, "Where did you two hikers come from?"
"We were dropped about four terras to the east, miss-dropped of course."
"I hear ya there."
Odie had gotten to his feet by now. He saw Sgt. Locke's marksman badge and her rifle and became very excited.
"Ma'am! There's a Red column on the causeway! We need to call in arty fire!"
"What did you say?" Locke was clearly taken aback by the gunner's report.
"They're all over Causeway Alpha! The other companies haven't stopped them! Call in artillery or we're all gonna die!"
Morian approached the sniper. "Sergeant, Private Odekirk has been showing signs of combat fatigue…"
"Your point is?" Locke asked warily.
"My point is that he's probably seeing things. There may not be a column there at all. And how the hell would they cross the causeway anyway?"
"We observed Red sappers on the causeway. They were doing mine removal work, no question about it," replied Witkins.
"But what about the other companies?" Morian asked, "What if they're around the causeway? An artillery strike might cause casualties!"
"We haven't observed or received word of any Blue forces anywhere near that causeway Corporal," replied Sgt. Locke.
"But how do we even know if there's any Red tanks crossing it?" Morian challenged.
"Did you see anything on the causeway Corporal?" Locke inquired.
"Well no, I had to chase him. But listen, I don't think-."
"Stop right there Corporal," the sniper interrupted, "If I have reason to believe the Reds are crossing Lake Meric, then I'm going to do something about it." The wolf offered no other words as she began to contact Blue Army Joint Operations Command and request the big guns back at base to open up.
Frustrated, Morian ran back to the ditch where Odie had 'sighted' the enemy column. He had to see this Red show of muscle for himself.
He walked through the grass until he could see the causeway and saw a single truck slowly crossing its span. His mind stopped for a moment; surely that couldn't be it. He looked behind the cumbersome hovering vehicle and saw nothing. He looked on his side of the lake, trying to see any enemy vehicles that might have crossed ahead of the truck. There were none.
Something was wrong here. The truck was certainly with the Red force; there was no way any Blue mechanized troops could have crossed already. But there was nothing else, just a single truck. As far as Corporal Morian could tell, the only vehicle Odekirk could have seen had to be the truck.
And then it occurred to him. Odie had been on the brink of mental collapse since his feet had hit the dirt. In the young Private's terrified and warped mind, the single truck had become the entire Red Army crossing Causeway Alpha.
As Morian was about to run back to the sniper's position to tell them this, he heard a shrill sound inside his helmet. His HUD displayed a solid red X across his periphery. He was dead.
He didn't know how, he didn't know why, and he didn't know who, but Morian knew his period in the war games was no over.
When Corporal Morian read the debriefing later that day, he couldn't believe what it said.
The gods of the war games had smiled upon Private David G. Odekirk. Master Sergeant Locke had, in her excitement, called for maximum fire on the causeway. Artillery pieces from four different batteries and even two flights of gunships had been thrown at the area. Predictably, the truck was destroyed.
But, in a strange twist, the truck was only the point vehicle. As it turned out, there was a massive Red force assembling to cross Causeway Alpha. The phantom hellstorm of digital shells and missiles had gutted the backbone of the Red forces. When the attack failed to materialize, the Blue Army surged forward. The war ended four days later.
And it was all because of one unstable little machine gunner.
Morian wasn't sure if there was a word in the Cornerian Marine Corp's slang lexicon for this kind of thing.