A/N: In celebration of Metal Gear Solid V, as of this chapter's posting being released tomorrow, here is where Gate goes Nuclear. Metaphorically of course: Part 1 of the Battle of Italica.
Anyway, review responses.
RiptideZ - Holy hell, this one, out of probably any other review across all my stories yet, had hit me the hardest. And I do appreciate it. Anyway, in the name of all transparency, here's my response to your points.
You caught me on a lot of things that I really do think personally should've caught myself on earlier: Sexualizing Shino, and to a lesser extent, Bannon and Kuro, and I would like to shove a little of that blame off to Gate's creator, but still, it's a valid complaint and I'll curb it from here on in.
Technology, your point on it is valid, seeing as I am ignoring what wonderful things are being offered today, but this, chalks up, to me, as my own bad writing decisions and me adhering to this story's main source material: Not Gate, but rather HBO's Generation Kill, which is an Iraq War dramatization. So I keep, or at least, try to limit myself, to Iraq War era gear and thus, practices I've seen.
ISIS – totally valid, as well as me and my poor decision to immediately just throw them under the rug with tactical weapons. Went back and left it a little open ended and ambiguous.
Outside world Reaction – I've been saving this for when Hitman and RCT3 have to face the music back home and appear before the Senate actually.
Anyway, your review has changed a few things from here on in, thought you should know, but there are somethings I'm willing to dare: like the Chinese and however they do it. I'll find a way to interpret the Chinese plot better, into something less asinine.
Mandalore – Yes, as RiptideZ has said, I'm in a really odd position in terms of nationalism these troops show off. Generally, I want them to be displayed as, broadly, tired: representative of an America of this time.
AznMagicman – Yes, I have been planning to do this with Pina Co Lada soon, after Italica, regarding history.
Rear Mirrors – I specifically point out several times that these Rangers, perhaps not the best choice in hindsight for this mission as noted by RiptideZ, are not Marines. They are operating with them, but are not a part of the Marines. They are separate. Really one of the many… creative liberties I've taken.
Anyway,
That being said I should point out that I am not a military service member, thus I do miss a lot of the actual, authentic little details that would fully sell this to those who knew better, and I apologize.
But I enjoy this type of writing and I learn new stuff everyday.
Section 1-4
"Itami, why do the Rangers sing?"
Rory had asked as she leaned in from the back to the front.
"Perhaps it is something religious, Priestess." Lelei had said.
Rory had looked back and smiled at the girl not even a percentage of her age, but had more knowledge than her at present.
"Please, just call me Rory… and is that true, Itami?"
Itami had pushed his helmet up as he was looking through his phone at another episode of Mei Com. They finally got limited connection set up, tethering all the way to Tokyo's net.
"Nah, they're just being Americans."
"Americans?"
Now Playing:
"Weird Al" Yankovic - Party In The CIA
As sung by Hitman Squad
I moved out to Langley recently
with a plain and simple dream
Want to infiltrate some third world place (Whoa)
and topple their regime
Lelei had spoken up from the back:
"I believe past the Gate, there are several subspecies of humans, as there are subspecies of elves. Americans are one of them, and the people of Japan are another, am I correct?" Itami had given an odd look over to Kurata, he shrugging.
"Not quite… I mean, we're all the same, technically."
The Rangers had all joined one chorus:
So I get my handcuffs
my cyanide pills
my classified dossier
tapping the phones like yeah
shredding the files like yeah
I memorized all the enemy spies I gotta neutralize today
yeah it's a party in the CIA
yeah it's a party in the CIA
"Americans…" Itami had started.
They beat us in a war once, a long time ago. Beat us badly. Beat us using a weapon that, so far, they have been the only ones to use because everyone else is so scared to use it. They used to be the aspiration of the world.
…
Yeah, us Men in Green? We're Japanese. Everyone else is an American on base.
Why aren't we all of their slaves? Well, the thing about Americans is that they were built on the fundamental vision that all people are born equal. Their history is long and ridden with conflict, defending that, not only in their own lands, but abroad. And not only that, it is not just an excuse: they believe in it and fight to the death for freedom and liberty for all.
Yes, Rory, all men and women are born equal. That's what they think. It's what we think.
No, not because they beat us. It's just right either way.
I mean… if we had beat them, I hope we'd be like… them.
Well, it's not that the Americans are always right, they just act on common sense and what is best…
I mean, they have a way of doing that, their government is based on the people, and they have a lot of people, a lot of different people, as citizens. Their rights are that of the common word of men and women, every voice matters, and every decision is made with the majority consent.
It's very hard to explain what an American is, because, truth be told, I could be an American, you could be an American, but we aren't and we can't be yet.
They are… a young people, with an old soul, an entire world that used to be on their shoulders but became too much. They're very quiet, nowadays, but you can see it in the eyes of those Marines: they want to fight, they want to remind the world who they are:
Americans.
"Just think about it sir," Masterson had said after finished up the song. "If we never came onto the scene, if these asshole Imperials never ruined our day in Ginza, what do you think the next thousand years of their history would look like? I mean, you came out with a history degree, didn't you sir?"
Masterson had talked to me as I chewed my gum, looking out at the plains and farmlands around. If I didn't know any better they were either having a bad crop season or they had been torched. Abandoned… and it certainly wasn't due to the flame dragon related evacuation.
Maybe this was more in response to us.
"The Romans lasted about fourteen hundred years. Feels like these people, in comparison, are a good four hundred years into it… I think, don't know… Don't actually have a date to go off of. Not that it matters to us, we're going on hometime in terms of the date."
"Wasn't my question sir, what'd you think we would've seen here without us?"
"Well, seeing as the Gate was just an extension of some sort of territory expansion scheme, I like to imagine there are other nations that this Empire is getting their elbows into… Maybe some sort of long conquest on behalf of the head monarch or something, that lasts for a few centuries as the peak of this empire, thousand years go by and then it starts tumbling down to the degradation of economic policies and social stigmas being introduced in a world that is changing too fast… it's an all too general thing to guess about when we know nothing about the figureheads, really."
Masterson had given off a 'hmph' and a shrug as he followed the boot of the JSDF LAV.
"Then what now?"
"Cowboys and Indians, Masterson, Cowboys and Indians and the expansion of the civilized man's agenda… much more drastic then America's original expansion, but I think the Japanese are picking up a lot of the shit from the Marines in terms of their fight and might. Might see something come up from it… I mean, yeah, the Marines are here to fight, but only that."
"Heh, and here I was thinking it was the white man's war."
"Motherfucker, what are you talking about? You are literally what Hitler envisioned, what is up with you and the white man's problem?" Black had yelled at from his Mk18 Turret, he himself as white as Cam.
"According to one of my bosses a while back, I'm an honorary Hispanic." Masterson reasoned.
"Whatever." Black had blown off and went back to scanning the horizon.
Road was as smoothed as any dirt road could've been, the rather soothing sound of road on ground comforting despite it all.
I hit my radio and let it open up on Itami's vehicle.
"Hitman Actual here, need contact with Lelei, how copy RCT3?"
A young voice came through.
"Yes?"
How odd it must've been for her to use this radio, I had thought before I cleared my voice.
"What's Italica look like, and how far away are we?"
"Italica is a defensible city that is a trading hub of this area, walls all around with appropriate set ups to counter. I believe we are…" her words dragged off, the sound Itami giving her the right words hitting her and she returning. "thirty minutes out."
"Alright, thank you miss, Hitman out." I clapped the radio back on its box. "Thirty mikes…"
"So like, six more rounds of singing."
"Look, you can make us all sing for one, anything else is all on you and your vocal sanctity Cam."
"Nah. Just a suggestion. Personally I'm wondering what the hell that blue haired one is trying to find out about us and what not."
"Probably just who we are. She's very interested in the machines, our guns, and what not moreso us." Black had said, leaning back in the turret ring.
"Should be the otherway around, really… I mean, you see that staff she got? Magic is for real kids… Hell, if things go south here, we can send her back to our world to work as a magician or some shit."
I blew out tiredly as we passed some sort of scarecrow propped up on the side of the road, not taking too much effort to see if it hadn't just been a crucified man. "Nonsense. She needs something a bit more meaningful, Masterson. She's a very bright girl, as far as I can tell."
Masterson scoffed. "Ain't that hard to learn Japanese, Ell-Tee, hell, even some whiskey tango like me can do it, Emerson-san."
The fact that Masterson had been fluent in Japanese had always made me chuckle in the back of my head, but it was a necessity, or at least, a highly recommended part of the job. To me, knowing Japanese hadn't been a bad experience, though my multilingual skills would've come useful when it came to my political career.
That is if it ever happened.
That being said I did have a commendation by the Japanese government to have a head up on everyone else…
"You really want to be one of the most willing people from this side of the Gate to come over to our world and be a magician?"
"No. She can be my maid back at my father's house after he dies and the will comes over my way. Y'all seen how she uses them dark arts to move heavy stuff, right?"
We did, and after reviewing our footage from the fire dragon take down, we had noticed her and Cato speeding past us in their ass drawn cart amazingly fast by the grace of magic.
Cato was a character himself too, but a bit too indulging in the curmudgeon like qualities that made us shy away from bringing him along.
If we wanted to sell off twelve bags of reptile scales in exchange for 330 years of income in one go, we'd do it with the Priestess we really could not say no to, the post-traumatic stress victim whose only sole reason for helping us along was to eventually take her revenge on that dragon which was most likely dead in some oversized ditch somewhere, and the magic wielding nomad girl…
And to think I used to be such a simple man.
"With the way she wants to help us out, she might as well become the Gate's liaison to our world." Black had said tiredly, he not saying anything of the fact that the fields around had been very evidently marched on.
"Not a bad plan… though that implies she's been the elected official… right now, she's just our translator."
"Well, should we use her as a translator or use her as a magician?"
Emerson had made a funny twitch with his nose as he remembered one of the few times he had personally talked to them all alone."I actually talked to her before we left. All of them, really… Rory said she could use that halberd of hers to great effect, and I really don't worry about her unless she's a vampire or something. Chuka… well, she's been asking me ever since we renovated their camp to train with us, I won't allow it. Lelei, she says she can use her magic if she's in danger, but nothing else. Magic is a sacred art, supposedly."
Masteron laughed. "Elf girl wants to train? Ain't she only sixteen or some crap? I mean, I only killed my first living thing when I was eig-"
I cut him off. "She's 165. Might look sixteen, but she's our elder, technically, by number alone. Even though her brain, as Doc and Kuro told me, isn't exactly that of an adult yet, she's had a century of being alive in this world to know how to use a bow and her own type of magic pretty damn well."
Peters had spoken up; he always did in the best times. "Is she a danger?"
"All three of them are, and I heard from a few of Marine officers there are contingencies in place for each of them, most of them just spraying them down with an AA12… we might be above murdering kids, but Marines aren't."
Nutt had been fiddling with his camera, he had mounted his on his rifle. These cameras been disguised up as laser designators, if anyone asked, they were given the paintjobs and the plastic shells to match. Always a sense of paranoia with them, even as our homemade documentary about being the number one special forces team this side of the Gate had become a bit of an odd thing: not of a plot, but of events that we did not understand.
Of course, the war stories come after the said war, not during.
"Hey Black,"
"Yes sir?"
"Whatever happened to those Imperial Bandits?"
Black had done a 360 sweep of his area. "I might go so far to say that they passed through this area, sir, fields seem matted down and we got a few debris from possible camps."
"Well, shit, why didn't Itami pick that up?"
Black leaned forward to get a look at the lead car. "On account he's occupied with our Holy Trinity up there."
"Ah."
Wherein Kuro had been RCT3's medic, our medic had been a man we had, perhaps unimaginatively, had called Doc, affectionately.
Man was some Canadian American whose last name was very hard to say with his rank, so we simply called him Doc.
He didn't mind, and in the last few months he had ample time to hone his craft and become familiar with the death and violence he was committed to helping out in both ways.
Who knew the Canadians could be evil like that.
We had found Italica half an hour and a field full of dead bandits later with steel from the Imperial Army. In fact, they were the Imperial Army, or at least, a division of the surviving Imperial Army we destroyed at Arnus.
Italica had been a fortress city to our first observations, not only in design but having proven its worth by the bodies lining the outside like some god damn feeding fest ready to happen for the vultures.
They didn't come yet though. Not when there was still danger around.
That had meant, distinctly, the city was still under siege after we rounded all of its side and picked an entrance:
No sooner than that had happened is when we saw the silver helmets of the knights of old poke their heads out from the wall with arrows and crossbows aimed at us.
The JSDF had stayed in their vehicles as we Rangers shoved open the doors and took cover behind them, stacking up.
Itami had always been the mediator after he walked out with barely a worry, the three girls behind him.
"Come on, Rangers, they're on edge. Let's just go knock and see what happens from there. Worst come to worst, we give you something to fight today."
Three Months since the Ginza Incident
D-Day + 9
The Special Region – Italica
Doc had shrivled his nose behind his own pair of aviators, his bald head shining much like them in the sun. "Whole damn place smells like death… hell, the living dead, even."
I had patted his shoulder and Loke's for them to fall in line with me, the two walking behind me with their weapons out still, even my own M16 held wearily as we followed Itami in behind the three girls.
"Halt!" A man's voice had kicked us in the teeth from ontop of the battlements.
We stood our ground as Masterson kicked in his radio.
"Team has line of sight of all visible threats, we'll fire if they do, sir."
Loke and Doc had heard the same, they shrugging and simply throwing their M4s over their shoulders or letting them hang off their slings on their chest.
Doc had been a bit antsy about it, his hands curling inward and outward. He did that, when anxious. "… Damn armor plates are rated for small arms… don't know about arrows and bolts though."
"Oh yeah Doc?"
"Just one hit and suddenly you have a telephone pole in your lungs, and it ain't even a sucking chest wound, it's just one giant impaling that'll let you feel yourself die all the way down as you collapse on it. Least with bullets it's clean and easy."
I looked up at one such large crossbow mounted up on the battlements aimed at us. I raised my hand and waved. Itami's easy going attitude had been something that had rubbed off.
"Hmm. Boiling pots of tar and water they got up there…" Loke had slowly pushed forward as Itami ignored the command. I thumbed down the MEU .45's hammer on my hip.
"Good observation, corporal."
"Great. So they can make stew and roads out of us later on. Just fucking great."
Doc had been sweating the last of his hair off, I only continuing my waving across the top of the stone monstrosities known as Italica's defensive walls as Itami finally made it to a wooden door besides the main gate, one of those great pots over him and the three girls.
He knocked. Three times.
Hopefully the defenders of this city that had been under siege knew that invaders never knocked this politely, our hands up as the pot was drawn back and the defensive positions being laxxed.
A woman's voice from the otherside had barked at them.
No sooner then that had happened did Itami get a face full of door and the man falling flat on his back in front of a rather overly excited looking, red haired, armored up, young woman.
The three girls simply did nothing look and stare as they did not believe what happened.
Why the hell them three had gone out was beyond me, but I suppose they were more locals than us.
Doc had twitched, wanting to go forward and help the man, but I simply barred my arm across his chest before he rushed over.
"Keep it cool." I made a thumbs up with my left hand over to our vehicles as they looked over here, dumbfounded, uswalking toward the incapacitated Itami.
The young woman's face was in shock.
"Was-" we changed our minds over to the common language. "Was that me?"
The three girls felt us come up behind them, looking at us with the sort of face you make when you really don't believe the shit in front of you.
We all looked at the young woman and nodded.
Loke had been a young woman who had listened to fairytales growing up in California, granted that a Disney themepark was nearby, so when we had dragged Itami in as our vehicles inched closer to entering, she had whispered to Emerson that the red haired woman, who was probably the same age as us, dressed and was outfitted like royalty in battle.
Or she just looked it.
Either way the defenders regarded her enough to not cut us down as we entered Italica's first line of defense in the hopes of finding a place to lay Itami down and fully treat him.
Chuka had taken Itami's canteen off of him and started pouring it over his face as Doc used some latex and looked at the welt on the man's forehead.
She was furious. "Don't you consider that somebody might stand in front of the gate?! Think about dwarves! Or hobbits! By doing this your manners are worse than a goblin!"
Emerson had grunted with a sound of intrigue, speaking in, to everyone else, a foreign language to his men in desert tan and woodland, cobbled together as usual. "So apparently there are goblins, dwarves, or hobbits in this world. Make a note, Loke."
"Yes sir."
Lelei had looked back at the door we came in through, a knight barring it off with a chunk of wood. We were in Italica… and we were trapped.
"Come on you big baby. Wake up." Doc had patted the man's wet cheek for a few second before he groaned, backing off as Rory had taken the man into her lap and stared right in to opening eyes.
Defenders had surrounded them, half wary, half weary. They were nothing more than towns people with long sticks at this point, mixed in with a few knights and archers. Emerson had looked through the ranks past the first few defensive line and saw casualties, still bleeding out. He shook his head as his obligations battled with his need to not get caught up in shit today.
Itami had bolted up silently, grumbling in Japanese as the woman who knocked him out jumped scared.
Our radios had come to life.
"This is Hitman 1-1 to either RCT3 Lead or Hitman-Actual, how copy, over?" The people around us had looked at their radios as if there were people stuck in their tiny confines, which was usually the assumption to those first encountering radios.
Itami groaned as he wiped the wetness off of himself and criked his jaw straight. He knew what he had just come out of. He answered. "Uhm… yeah, I was out cold for a few seconds, let me just confirm the situation. Over."
He put his hand off the radio as he gave a visual sweep.
The Rangers waved at him to his right as he regained full coherency, the man waving back, the rest of his views taken up by the stone streets of Italica and its desperate defenders.
"Can someone explain what happened?" he asked.
Everyone looked at the red haired woman. She returned all the gazes back and forth almost with just as much desperation, not wanting to, but given no choice across the ranks. Loke had pointed at her.
"She happened."
Emerson had hauled Itami off his feet swiftly, returning his weapons to them they had stripped him of before they dragged him in.
"Hitman 2-1 here. Interrogative: You alright lieutenant? You have two of my people over there with you, you know. Over."
Emerson had answered his own radio. "Hitman-Actual. Doc and Loke are fine. Give us ten minutes, should be able to get us in. Out." The man had raised his finger and took off his helmet to say something, but he had been cut off by that red haired woman's lieutenant before he could get a word out.
"You fools! This is an affront to the Third Imperial Princess, Pina Co Lada."
Loke had cracked a smirk as Hitman and Itami all shared a look. The three girls had given a suspicious look to the red haired woman now.
"Imperial royalty, eh?" Emerson whispered beneath his breath, loud enough for his Rangers to hear.
"Berets out?" Loke asked, already having pulled the piece of clothing from her kit.
"Why not." Doc shrugged. "Damned cancer ain't gonna stop me from looking spiffy."
The three girls had either squealed in disbelief or surprise at the fact there was an Imperial of noted worth standing before us, perhaps even now they having recognized her. A few, in turn, had recognized Rory, and had said a prayer beneath their breaths before slitting their skin to draw blood for Emroy.
Itami had looked over to the Rangers as he stood guard over the girls, eyebrow raised as they donned a tan beret, on it: an emblem that harkened back to a war three centuries in the past.
It was formal as the Rangers were gonna get as they approached the princess in a chevron formation, the woman intimidated in her eyes as the defenders did nothing to dissuade her.
She tried to back pedal away, some of her defenders scrambling, her female lieutenant drawing her sword, but it was too late. Diplomatic relations were being started.
Emerson had held out a hand, an empty hand to the woman that all of them had a height advantage on, her face dirty, yet still with some sort of lipstick that seemed to highlight the fear in her eyes.
In the proud "big stick" theory of good ole Theodore Roosevelt, the stick can be the person themselves if it comes down to it.
Emerson withdrew the hand after the princess looked at it, confused, not doing anything. Emerson had guessed it wasn't a custom in this world.
"My name is 2nd Lieutenant Kristian Emerson, my friend which you knocked out: Lieutenant Itami Youji," the man had shuffled up and stood bedside Emerson, back straight and arms behind himself. "represent the Special Task Force on behalf of the Government of the United States of America, and the State of Japan."
Emerson threw up a v with his fingers. It wasn't quite the Vulcan greeting, but it was the same.
"We come in peace, we want to trade."
The sound of a horn being blared outside of the gate had made the people of Italica snap and cower for a second. It was Masterson getting impatient.
"But we're prepared for war."
Princess Pine Co Lada, as she was called, and I really hoped Masterson didn't botch anything when she found out her name, had did not understand anything I said in my formal greeting to her minus the last few things: As in I really hope you want peace, or else we will fuck you up as we did the rest of the Imperial Army.
That being said, I had my reservations going up against this girl when she barely looked twenty.
Itami had scoffed a bit at my forwardness, but I wasn't about to leave my men standing off with tired defenders for as long as we were in here.
"I highly advise you, Princess, to allow my men in and to rest their heads, just let us settle our vehicles in front of the first defense line and we'll go from there." I said.
She hesitated.
"Do this as a favor for knocking out my friend."
And so the men in green and tan had rolled into their gates, barely fitting, and the defenders were captivated again by the steel carriages with great black iron rods on them that had been rumored to spit so much death, it was not questioned why Rory had ridden with us.
I had given off our discarded helmets to Masterson and Bannon. "Lock down, keep your gunners mounted, but otherwise relax. These people have seen a lot of fighting these last few days and I think they know if they pick a fight with us it won't be pretty."
Masterson nodded. "How the hell are we the ones that are establishing diplomatic relations with the Empire?"
"We aren't technically, but it seems like they need us, and we have scales to sell. I'll check in every ten mikes. Itami is giving the same orders to his people."
"Roger."
Bannon had poked her head out from the car as she pulled the bolt back on her M4. "Remember, hearts and minds."
Loke and Doc had still been with me as we followed Itami and the girls up the Italica roads to the main castle, little conversation done for the matter of the general unease around.
We took it in stride as the gates opened to very worried servants and guards. Castle had become a CP, and we walked in like we owned the place, wiping the dirt off of our heels as we stepped into the halls that , between the used castles in our world and this, weren't that different, all things considered.
"Italica is a fortress city." Pina Co Lada had started, climbing us up the orante stairs as servants bowed. "It stands strategically at the intersection of the Tessaria and Appia Highways, thus making it an important commercial hub for the empire."
"Understandable. I can see how the bandits would want to control such a place."
She sniffled as we came into a hallways of windows and natural light, making our way deeper into the castle.
"I can see how anyone, would want this place." There was a rickety threat behind her words, of knowing what we might've wanted to do.
As an aspiring politician, threats mean nothing if I can put a bigger one out. It was never a matter of them owing up to those threats in my opinion, it was more of a matter of giving something in return. Retaliation that led to an ultimatum. Nothing held back.
"Are you the Lord of this town, Princess?" Itami asked.
She had shook her head as we continued to walk.
"No. For generations this city has been overseen by the counts of Fromar, Imperial nobility. But when the last Count died, his three daughters started an internal power struggle that centered around the true heir: their youngest sister."
It was a tale all too familiar across all lands and nations and families. I'm sure Masterson would've said something if he was here about it.
"This stuff happens in every world, eh?"
The princess stopped, remembering who we were.
"This is not the first world you have invaded?"
I spoke up fast. "We are not invading. We are simply responding to what we believe to be an Imperial Incursion into our territory that left many civilians dead. Do you not understand the gravity your Empire has with us?"
Her lieutenant twitched her eye at us. "How dare-"
"How dare we respond to our blood being spilled. Right?" I cut her off as Loke and the Doc moved forward a bit, seeing her aggression.
I took a step forward to them as we turned. We stopped in the middle of the hallway.
"Princess. All things considered, I am happy that I am able to talk to a person of such distinction and representation within the Empire, as in order to start talks between our two world fully. However, what remains are two facts: This town, presumably under your defensive responsibility, is under siege. And your Empire killed the innocent, and we are seeking justice. Neither point can be ignored, but one is more relevant than the other…" she had never been talked to like this before, I had seen in her eyes. "Do you understand what I am saying? Do you understand who we are?"
"..W-who?"
"We are the people who will help you save this city and rid you of your banditry problem for all time, and it is your choice, if you let us do so."
She licked her lips nervously as she turned back around, wanting to get everything out of her head as she kept leading us on.
Itami put a hard hand on my shoulder and poked his head at me for a second, as if saying "the fuck was that?"
I simply remained silent as I remembered why I had been so willing to come over this Gate. Revenge wasn't a good word, but response had been vanilla enough.
"Th- the head of every family was supposed to lead their men into battle during the expedition past the Gate, and the attack on Arnus Hill…" she said it with such nervous scorn it reaffirmed my position. "None, returned."
"Where were you then?" Doc had asked.
"The Capital. We had not anticipated that 120,000 men had been killed so easily… needless to say it has left a gap in both power and security across our territory. Even defending this fortress city has been difficult."
We said nothing as we came to the end of the hallway and a door. It felt like Iraq all over: power vacuums to be filled by nothing more than bandits and survivors for their own gain.
We told ourselves there was no way an Iraq would repeat itself over here, but then again, human nature is a constant throughout how many worlds had them.
"Beyond this door lies the current ruler of Italica and countess of her family: Myui."
The doors were open, and all we saw was a child in a pink dress, sitting where her family once did proudly.
Loke had given off a vocal surprise. "She's just a child."
As was my thoughts when kids in Afghanistan, long ago, had to pick up an AK47 and be their village's protection. They were just children.
Lada had walked beside the quiet girl, putting a hand on her chair.
"I believe she turns eleven this year, and as such, she is not able to command an army in battle… as such, my order and me, have taken command of Italica's defenses in her stead."
There was something of a royal deliberation room that Princess Pina Co Lada had lead her new would be allies, as she convinced herself, into and sat down. There was even wine poured in gold chalices as the girls had sat themselves down in between the soldiers. It was an odd combination, but Pina Co Lada had admitted that it only showed how far that they'd been able to interact with the populace of her father's empire.
A nomad, the personification of death, and a wood elf with an unkind look in her eye. Normally elves like her had supposed to be mostly benevolent, but there was something brewing in her that she wished the last of her defenders had.
Moral was low, as was headcount, but the introduction of these men in green and tan had been something else.
"You mentioned you would help us." she said to the soldiers.
Emerson looked at Itami for cooperation, which he nodded.
"Yes. We will, however only on the guarantee of our safety, a concrete diplomatic relation be set with us and the Empire afterwards, and for us to originally complete our task here today."
"Which is what?" she asked.
Lelei's magic had gone beyond things that could be described via physics and quantum mechanics, so when she had used her staff to gently tap the floor, and suddenly having twelve big bags of dragon scales pops out from her tote bag impossibly, it had gotten the point across she was learned in the dark arts.
Doc had pointed at them and then to Emerson. Emerson shrugged. Doc was a logical person and he was stuck in a very illogical place as of current.
"We want to trade these scales to a trader in town in order to provide monetary funds to several Imperial refugees that have come to us." Itami stated.
"What?" the princess didn't believe it.
"Yes. We have around fifty refugees in Arnus that are currently living with us. These three women sought to sell these scales from remains of the Arnus battlefield in town. We did not seek to come here without them." Loke had followed.
Lada had looked at them all separately. "Are you prisoners?"
"Hardly." Rory.
"They treat us very well." Lelei.
"There is nothing to say otherwise, princess." Chuka.
"I can report the same from the 6,000 currently held in our responsibility past the gate, some of Imperial Royalty."
"What?!" the princess's own chalice shook in her hand.
"This is all the information I am willing to give to you at present, however rest assured we are open to negotiations at a later time regarding the refugees, the prisoners, and other topics."
She had stumbled with her hands, her drink very much shaking. I didn't think I was that scary a person.
"What are you? An official envoy?" she asked.
"No. Just a soldier, princess." and an aspiring politician to boot.
Names alone do not dictate responses, reactions, answers. Character does, purpose.
Her name, her blood, did not mean anything to me.
I did not need to reiterate that we were a threat to her, to this entire town, however we offered her the olive branch first and we would act only on that. Any discretion from her would be her decision alone. This town needed us.
The Special Region – 10 kilometers from Italica
Of all the refugees that had escaped on behalf of the men in green and the Rangers, it was statistically impossible for all of them to be good people.
Hardly. After resting their heads and selling their belongs, a good portion of them had gone the way of the raider, acting on some new orders that came down from the Emperor himself to burn, pillage, and make the land between Arnus and the Capital just short of unusable. Mercenaries, criminals, everyday people wanting another silver coin to their name had answered the call of death and destruction so easily.
It was nothing against those men from Arnus and another world, but money was money and business was business.
These many would be new mercenaries with the Emperor's decree had met halfway from the receding territory of the Empire with those who had been abandoned by it: the survivors of Arnus. Either way, they both wanted Imperial land to burn and pillage.
So perhaps as a momentary truce, there had been an overnight crusade formed, meant to salt the Earth to stop those people from another world of "ending us all", as the Imperial Capital had been buzzing about lately.
"I heard there was some of those men heading toward Italica. Let's take out two birds with one stone!"
Was the off comment taken too seriously.
It was a suggestion strong enough, between a major trading hub and those mystical soldiers, that spurred just about twenty thousand Imperial mercenaries, regulars, and even some of the ex-regulars, to march toward Italica where several of the Arnus survivors had already tried to hit.
By tomorrow, they planned they would be having breakfast inside the walls of Italica.
Then again, the Empire had already thought by this time they would've owned another world.
The Special Region – Italica – South Gate
Harris had an arm, as befit a former football player, so when he tossed our UAV up into the air at over the south gate's battlements. He had hurled the small plane that was more like an RC hobbycraft like it was nothing, a small grunt stopping him as the UAV's engine kicked itself in and flew off and over into the sunset sky.
"Damn."
Harris had given the squad a cheeky smile as Loke flew the UAV with the MFD in the dying light.
We'd all been assigned to the South Gate, both RCT3 and Hitman, the local forces vacated to either the east or west gates. Still didn't stop from some of the civilians to whoop at us form ontop of the battlements.
"Huh." Loke had furrowed her eyes at the MFD on the laptop this piece of technology came with. "Black, look out like, three hundred meters and at that row of bushes."
Black was our DMR this time around, he having taking prone and staring out the defenses from the top of the walls with the rest of us. His SR-25 had been a faster thing than the M95 that Masterson lugged around with his 870, but it was what we needed up front in case of siege warfare.
Not that Ranger school ever taught us against siege warfare.
This was all just making stuff up as we go along.
I peered out from my binos in that direction with Itami and his second in command. "Got something already, Loke?"
"Three horses, three riders. Scouts, along the ground."
We had given Chuka a bow and arrow set to her pleasure, said something about getting practice again. She has posted herself with Black as our chief marksmen that day. Bannon and Masterson had kept their squads tight and ready well.
Just how I liked it.
Masterson had walked over as he heard the mention of horse.
He raised a finger, "Don't know if this'll work from this far out, but this is usually how I got horses's attention."
According to Loke, the riders had brought their horses down and were still on them as the beasts were on their sides, it was a familiar maneuver to hide horses and riders in the same go, laying against the ground.
Masterson brought two pinkies to the side of his lips and blew hard, Black and Chuka drawing their weapons.
The high pitch whine of the whistle had made the horses startle themselves and brought them on four feet, bringing their riders up and out.
I hadn't given the all clear to fire, but to be fair Chuka was never educated on engagement policies as she put three arrows behind her string, whispered a few unintelligible words under he breath, let the arrows go and each of them hitting the riders dead.
The arrows had some sort of sparkle to their trails.
I wasn't even mad as the horses scampered off away, their dead riders still flopping on ragdolls on them.
"You know…" Masterson had been just as awestruck as I, and everyone else who had seen the triple shot, had been. "During our takedown of that dragon a few days ago, I noticed one of its eyes was already shot out… was that your doing?"
She shrugged, having drawn another arrow to replace the one she shot off. "My father's work."
Black had simply dropped the mag in his SR-25 and knocked it against his helmet, fastening the rounds. "Well, let me tell you, your father woulda' been proud."
She had nodded solemnly and went down the wall in her own self-appointed patrol.
Itami glowered as he kept looking out to the south, the numerous smokes from camp fires in the background hadn't been a pretty picture as Loke controlled our UAV out there.
"Scouts." Pops had said simply as Masterson excused himself and marched the opposite direction.
"Behind this is the main enemy force." Itami noted, pointing in the general direction tiredly.
"Got a read on how many?" Pops asked.
Itami looked over to Emerson, who in turn had been waiting on Loke's first read.
The officer had scratched the back of his neck harshly, the sweat itching him.
"We'll wait till we get their UAV to fly over. After that, well, doubt we can do much but sit on our ass and shoot if they come close."
Pops had blankly stared at those pillars of smoke in the background and their numbers. The sky in the distance had been rendered black because of it.
"Population of Italica is around 5000, give or take. If you give everyone a weapon, and we can't, the enemy should still be able to find a weak spot… Apparently the princess is assuming that to be it."
The two JSDF personnel turned around to the set up the defenders had left here: walls around the other side of the south gate meant to be turned alight. They were planning for this wall to fall, especially since it had been the most direct route.
"She set us up." Itami had observed.
"When you're a defender, you're always set up." I had grumbled. "Personally, I think you JSDF have the leg up on us in this one."
Pops had pointed outward. "More used to going out there and attacking?"
"Rangers lead the way, bud." How tired that phrase was to me yet it was still true. "I'll die as close to the enemy as I can, not on my back."
Bannon had passed us by as she heard our conversation. "Not like these people are of any threat to the US."
Of course not. "Still, here we are and they're a danger to us. I say that necessitates any of our actions coming up."
She nodded at us, straightening her back to deliver a report. "Autogunners and marksmen have been set up, up and down this wall from both my team and Masterson's. Twenty guns ain't gonna cut a large scale incursion though, I doubt."
"Itami radioed the JSDF earlier, and I called in to Overlord. If they don't hear our checks in from here on in on the hour, each hour, they'll assume we've been overrun and send in the appropriate response teams."
"So we're ready to expand the front lines?"
I nodded. "Cato Village has already been scouted out by the marines as a forward firebase, and the JSDF armor is fueling up to expand at least to Cato village for territory. If all goes well, we should see another expansion to Roche Hill…"
"Really? How can we-"
I cut Itami off. "JSDF is expanding its manpower here seeing as we have more reserves coming online, so I heard. Might even drop the cutoff date of the equipment to modern."
Itami seemed disturbed. "We're expanding our manpower here?"
"Either to accommodate pre-existing operations or to get ready for another push." I answered.
His teeth had grit, jaw tightened, but he let out a low breath instead, a little ragged as I heard the lungs of a man just reintroduced to cigarettes.
I patted his shoulder reassuringly.
"Alright!" he yelled out, addressing his men, "Nishina, Katsumoto! Get the sandbags set up in these inlets and clean up anything at risk of burning us. Kuribayashi! Distribute NV gear. They'll probably hit us at night."
"Sir!" Another yell had come from Loke on her laptop, the UAV having done its job. She had a scared look in her eye, having seen a number that she did not want to acknowledge either out of two prospects: Her dying because of it, or having to deal with killing them all.
"UAV pick something up?" I asked. She handed me the tablet and saw the UAV's software try to punch in a number that went above its head counting software.
Itami looked at me as I now wore that same look. "Change of plans."
Everything had come out from the black boxes. Everything. The muscle suits were on underneath the carriers and the armor, the American standard issue weaponry which we would not hear end of from the armorers for servicing had been locked and loaded along with the inventory we had popped out of Arnus with, NVGs on, and a complete blackness ordered across the south gate.
The princess hadn't believe the number that one of our messengers had delivered to the east and west side, and so she had blown him off, the modern military men and women left to the south gate as the fires in the distance went out, and darkness overtook the land.
My Rangers had quite liked to don the muscle suits, if only because it made the night more bearable on their heads, every single Ranger I had now deployed up and down the south wall as the JSDF tried their best to vacate the buildings of Italica to more center of the town.
Up armored, up armed, down with the odds of several thousands of men to each of us.
The UAV had still been flying above, and it had seen that seemingly million man army of regulars, ex regulars, and mercenaries slowly march their way out. They hadn't even been subtle about it in the night.
Dozens of US Army weapons of the current age had been placed strategically, though some unammned, throughout the south wall. This had been our fight distinctly as my troops double checked their ammo feeds and weapons, up and down.
A crude drawing of the town had been made with marker and paper in the dark, me and my squad leaders shooting a flashlight at it. "First line will fall. No doubts about it." Was the dark observation by all of us. Even ours. Just by sheer number alone, the enemy didn't need to sneak around and divert flanks or anything. All they seemed to need was to just walk on up and take this city by brute force.
"Armored vehicles stay entrenched around the castle. We're not moving them at all. Yet." I said as I pointed at the stone I was using as a representation for said castle in the middle of the town.
"And the call for reinforcements right at this instance?" Bannon asked behind her NVGs, she cradling an MCR in her hands like old hat.
"Denied. Marines and the JSDF are currently in their own deployment to start clearing the land up to Coda. 0300 response remains set, but I doubt we'll be alright by then."
"I've checked the ammunition. Even one bullet per person and we still won't have enough." Masterson reported as he sat more liberally on the ground of the wall. His silence was deafening. "I even talked to Lelei about some replication magic or some shit and she said if it was better if we just constructed this crap by hand… it'd be faster or maybe she's just bullshitting us so she can see how our bullets work."
"Doubt she cares, really." I said.
Bannon's mouth twisted into a confused form. "What?"
"She's like us. Outsiders. We wouldn't really care about this if it wasn't us here."
"Well… we're here." Bannon responded.
"We'll live to see daylight, probably. Just need to make sure to put up enough of a fight to keep the south gate clear… worse comes to worse we punch a hole through south gate forces and let the city fall as we retreat."
"And the girls?"
"If we retreat or during this battle to come?"
"Battle to come."
"Rory will handle herself fine, I guess, no way to predict what kind of card she is. Lelei is a pacifist, more or less, and Chuka says she'll fight."
"Bow and arrow still?" Bannon asked.
"Yeah."
"Well, fuck, least we can get twenty more kills or some shit, accounting her now."
The silence of doors being kicked in by the JSDF was maddening as they tried to evacuate the remaining civilians, but it was needed.
"What's going on with east and west then? What if they fall before us?" Bannon asked.
"They will… and…" I drew lines from them to the castle. "Itami said he delivered some plans to her for retreats, said the main route was to head straight back to the castle to let our armored vehicles chew them up. If worst comes to worst." I shook my head, not believing the shit I was saying.
Town was never meant to weather an attack like this on a good day.
Now it was undermanned and night.
"You know… if we die here, it might give us the ability to for the US to deploy more troops and what not. Avenge our deaths. We'll be martyrs."
I shook my head and laughed, tiredly to Masterson. "Is that your highest dream, Cam? To become a martyr?"
He shrugged his shoulders, one of them still hurting a tad from an arrow having hit it in what seemed like a lifetime ago.
"At the end of today, Kay, we'll are either be martyrs or mass murderers. Either or."
Bannon blew some air from her nose in an agreeable noise. "I can live with either."
"Can we?" I added.
Loke had butt in again from the ground level. "UAV is now in orbit mode above us. Should keep eyes on our IFFs and display incoming hostiles on our HUDs."
The helmets we wore underneath our NVGs had been a bit like the Roman helmets, mandibles carrying glass over our faces that showed us holographic displays. Almost like a videogame, really. We were explicitly told not to use these suits bar drastic circumstances due to the amount of upkeep they needed and the fact that the armorers at Camp Omega could not abide.
Now was a drastic scenario though.
"Thank you corporal." I said simply, waving the woman off to man her position.
"I really do wonder if there's anything worth it for America here, you know." Masterson said after a silence, the moon above as blue and as clear as ever. These unpolluted night skies were always a treat. "I mean, I know why we are out here, but still…."
"America always used to be the ones on the frontier…" Bannon had said as we all looked up into the night sky, toward that army coming toward us. "I think the Japanese just want us here for an affirmation, of sorts."
"Affirmation of what?" I asked. "To come here, save their asses, leave 'em with thousands dead and a thousand problems, and go home after we got what we want?"
"Well, maybe exactly that. Who knows."
"I mean, is it really that noble for us to be coming to a land like this and helping another first world nation absolutely wreck the shit of a world a millennium behind us? Like… I don't know, shouldn't we be guiding them." Masterson's reflections were not lost on me.
"Eventually…hopefully, hell, maybe the answer is to not do anything at all. We just need to get through tonight. If the Empire sends a force this heavy anywhere near our frontline again, well… something big will happen."
"Well, no shit, Kay." Bannon had used my nickname for once.
"One of our tank commanders, the British one, he said something of the like that some of the JSDF officers on this side of the Gate are looking to use their resources to cut themselves off from their dependencies outside."
Another crash and a door had been broken in by the JSDF, dragging the civilians outside and forcing them to go up toward the castle for their own good; not that they understood of appreciated it.
"I bet your ass that is what every single country in the world is thinking: using this place as a resource hole… Probably even us." Masterson said, leaning to the wall, bathed in moonlight. "Well, y'all be thankful we could be dying here tonight, cause we die here, least we die for these people instead of some political aim."
"Hmph. You're speaking in the present, Cam, not hindsight."
"Suppose, not that I'm too concentrated on dying tonight." Masterson had taken his 870 and pumped it back, grasping the slug that came out and thumbing it back into the chamber. "… and all this shit for a delivery run. Capitalism will be the end of us all."
Masterson had a point buried beneath his bullshit, as usual. If we die here tonight, it wouldn't be for America, the JSDF, or Tracey. It would've been for the people here.
Suppose I could make peace with that.
Five minutes later, the pinging in our HUDs had come alive. Black had readied his marksman rifle outward but saw nothing but black with his natural vision. The digital one gave him red squares to aim at.
But those waves of red squares kept growing, and growing, and growing.
There was no yell across the board to verify contacts, just the realization that a battle had come.
Even when an explosion was heard at the west gate where the princess was, there was no hype, no shout.
"Contact south." Emerson had lazily adjusted his MCR against the stone block and sandbags they had set up. "Get enough of them, might scare 'em off… if the target counter becomes too much, just go on visual alone…"
Bannon had spoken up over the radio from her position on the west end of the south wall. "Conserve your ammo, aim for any volatile substances you see, tar, fire pits, anything."
"And remember boys," said Masterson from the east. "the Alamo."
The enemy came from three directions, south, east, and west, and how they came was with a fiery falling of the sky.
Stars formed on the ground seemingly at instant, and as they seemed to pivot up and to ascend to the sky, all the defenders knew what was coming.
"Against the wall move!" Emerson had yelled before any of Hitman had fired off a shot, arrows descending on them as they left their weapons and pressed their bodies against the inside wall.
The impact of thousands of arrows against Italica's structures and, across the other defenses, bodies had been deafening. Like the sound of a thousand sturdy branches hitting solid ground, only after they had hit ground did Hitman, for the most part, open their eyes.
"We good?!" Masterson had shouted across the wall, very wary of arrows at this point.
That was when the world shouted back, and when the armies came.
Hitman was untouched, but the city had started to spark and burn behind them in small portions due to the barrage of arrows, the broke lines of them lining all of Italica as RCT3 made its way back to the south gate.
Bu that time the gunfire had erupted from LSAT LMGs and the DMRs, the other rifles, 2003 era LMGs, and the lone archer that was Chuka had waited to fire.
The tracers had lit up the night sky as the waving wands that they were rumored to be, cutting down the charging masses of raiders that had defied the eye, it left Emerson agape for just a second as RCT3 roared up the stairs behind them, the enemy army seven hundred meters out and closing, fast and on their feet.
The enemy came fast, and they fell hard, that much was evident by how bodies had hit the mud and were trampled over.
To say that a certain seed of hopelessness had been installed in the men of Hitman and RCT3 hadn't been a lie, and Doc had yelled out in agony, in pain.
"Status?!" Doc was assigned to Masterson's team, and he had yelled over the air.
Harris had responded. "It's alright! Doc just bit a part of his tongue off."
This is what Normandy must've been like, Emerson had thought, it really must've been as the enemy breached the five hundred meter line, only to run into something the town's wounded had been able to do with their injured selves: make barbed wire.
It was amazing the amount that had been pumped out by the blacksmith by short notice, but it was a surprise and a treat nonetheless as the wire was hidden in the dark, and men's feet were shredded by what looked liked bundles and bundles of it, spread out across the entire perimeter of Italica.
So much so that those who tripped over it were probably dead by the fact their bodies were ripped after being pushed forward through it by the overeager backline.
They got bogged down enough for the rifles to finally start engaging.
"Open fire!"
RCT3 had just barely set up by the time Emerson had yelled the mass of open fire to the massing human wall that had been a quarter barbed wire and a third ripped flesh and bodies tripping over it.
That was the sum of the first hundred rounds or so spent by the men of Hitman: making a human wall of corpses up and down the South wall as men tripped and ripped in the bundles of barbed wire, leaving those to clamber over right into the stream of fire: falling back down and adding to the mountain still.
The fire, bar the LMGs, had been all semi-automatic. Supersonic punches to the hearts of men and raiders that frozen them in place as a heart, a head, a lung was shot and missing form them.
The best of Imperial armor did nothing but break and brittle underneath the scrutiny of 6.8 and caseless ammunition.
Itami had been the last to go up the wall with a cart full of bottles.
Emerson had noticed during a particularly heated reload which he had been using the battlements as cover from the occasional return arrow.
Chuka's use of magic had been barbaric at best, each of her yells, not a cry of war, but a cry and a push for the arrows she was firing to seek out other archers and take them down.
"The hell are those?" Emerson yelled in English.
"Courtesy of Lelei!" he had taken a bottle and thrown it over the wall, the second it broke was when a yellowish, green smoke had come from it and immediately stopped the enemy dead. Harris had a sense of smell that betrayed him sometimes, so when he had taken a whiff after reloading his airburst grenade launcher, he knew what he smelled and immediately put his helmet back on.
"God damn mustard gas?!"
It was a violation of the Geneva Convention, but technically Lelei had been a nomad and a non member.
"Dammit man! You can't throw that shit at them!" Emerson yelled out of the part of his mind that noted regulation. The rest of him hadn't really cared as he rolled back over and sighted up his optics as the men had kept coming.
No pigs, ogres, or anything like that. Just men.
Emerson's first shot after the reload had been a heavy axe wielderm a shot in the shin burying him in the mud as his compatriots pushed him into the Earth, crushing him alive as the human mountain continued still, the barbed wire unwilling to let go of those caught.
People often forget what a bullet can do to people.
It's never as simple as two holes and a loss of blood.
It's a hole the size of a quarter, a coin, scrambling the insides that had been so designed by nature to work perfectly as it is, and making it into what might be mistaken as ground beef as the bone fractures and explodes with the exit wound, ten times bigger than the entry.
And even then, it's not the bullet that kills, technically: it's the blood loss, the organ failure, the disconnect from spine to brain.
Death is never pretty, and neither is war.
Still, people get off to it all the time, as was the noises coming from where we kept Rory: down on the gate level.
Emerson had been very sure of what a halberd could do, and if she really wanted to fight, she needed to be downstairs in front of the gate when it was bursting open.
Then again, bursting open was a poor choice of words, all things considered as the dead had now climbed slowly into the hundreds.
Each soul had passed through Rory, as was her purpose: conduit for her god, but it didn't mean it was an entirely bearable affair.
Not that anyone heard it from on top of the wall, putting down fire enough as brass started pooling and rolling off the wall inward. The men and women of Hitman were, much in the shared opinion of their commander, good shots enough that one bullet was enough as each of the Hitman elements had been straining their body, twitching from each target to the next, pulling down the trigger once and taking the bucking of their rifles and weapons before returning it to another charging body.
Poetry in motion, and if only Bowie had the weapons America had now, maybe Santa Anna might've not taken the Alamo.
Lelei herself had reappeared from her hiding space with ear protection she had borrowed from our kits, taking the potions she had brewed in some house that the JSDF had kicked into, and lending a hand by simply using her magic, and tossing it out to the human wave outside, all of them yelling, chanting, adding to Rory's pains.
The green wall of gas that was all too similar to the weapon used by an ancient German dictator and Saddam Hussein had gone to where the line of barbed wire had been concerning the south, halting the advance of men still trapped at the line of barbed wire, the cloud coming to cover it and push into the dark.
"RCT3! Hold position here!" Itami had yelled as the fire settled and the choking of men and the ecstasy of a girl was heard below them.
Itami looked over to both the east and west gate before looking at Emerson. They both nodded.
"Masterson! Head to the east gate with Team Two. Bannon, go west and help the princess with One! RCT3 stays here and holds this place down. Go!"
Emerson had used his hand movements even in the dark, all of the Rangers shifting and sprinting down the wall to either direction as RCT3 took their place.
Kurata had fallen onto his stomach as he inherited Harris's mounted gun. "All civilians are currently in the castle. We can torch the city now if needed."
Masterson had dropped the 6.8 mag into his pouch, having emptied it on the last push, stopped by the use of a mountain of corpses and Lelei's gas.
Emerson laid on his back as he finished the reload, pulling the bolt back and laying the gun on his stomach, looking at Lelei ducking beneath the stair inlet. "What is that shit out there?"
Itami had peered out with his binoculars and had seen flesh start to peel and burn amongst those he could see poke their dead bodies out of the cloud, some still alive and crawling.
No ammo was wasted.
"The Marines were talking aloud one day regarding contingencies necessitating the onsite creation of "Willie Pete" and "Mustard Gas". They talked of composition and general ingredients too aloud."
Emerson had slapped his helmet straight, not believing what this girl was saying.
"You're too smart for your own good girl." he said as he shuffled away from the entire cart of VERY volatile material, ignoring that it were Marines that had been brewing the stuff. What better way to avoid the scrutiny of the international community than to brew it on base. But why, though?
The UAV's headcount monitor had slowly blipped the dead out of existence, not that it had done anything to lower its malfunctioning actual count.
Behind the cloud the chant continued:
THIS IS WAR
EVEN THOUGH OUR BODIES FALL WE REMAIN WARRIORS
THE SALUGHTER IS CLEAR
OUR DEATH IS CLEAR
THIS IS OUR WAR
PRAISE TO EMROY
By the time Bannon's team had gotten back to the west gate, the wall defenses had fallen and the defenders had gotten behind the first line's last defense: the wooden fence separating gate from town.
Heads posted on pikes; dead bodies shamed and drawn bare by the raiders, displayed in that empty space between raider and defender. Even as the team ran down the wall, they did not need clarity to know what was happening and to enrage them.
Bannon herself had lead the charge across the wall, drawing an AA12 to her hip as the invading raiders that were hopping over the walls saw what they feared: the soldiers from another world.
A knight in armor had been Bannon's meatshield as she shoved the AA12's barrel into the man's stomach, blowing a hole through armor and flesh before shooting through and taking out the rest of the invaders that had stood on the wall on their way down.
Bannon screamed, she did, muffled underneath her helmet, blood splattering the glass on it to no bother to her as she slowly pushed forward, the dead knight now pushed through the barrel and held by it as she marched to the sound of what could only be possibly be described as the most violent war drums ever heard.
The sound of the beats, the sound of flesh tearing, had been from the buckshot of the AA12, the sound of burning having been from her squad backing her up with pinpoint rifle shots, kicking off and igniting the ladders that the invaders set up as those raiders inwards had looked back up.
No one that hadn't been a modern person had torn there eyes away from the west gate's walls and how a woman blew away chunks and chunks of men by just holding down the trigger of that great, black, metal trumpet looking device with a cylinder in the middle feeding rounds out.
Men fell off, perhaps in pieces, from the wall as Bannon's squad pushed, shot, and kicked them off, clearing it faster than anyone had ever seen in a counter attack of this nature, and no sooner had the ladders gone up in smoke and the west gate's wall been clear, had Bannon shoved the man on her gun off to the ground, and resumed firing downwards, into the clearing between raider and defender, and dealt with those who preyed on the week as god's do: with thunder.
Princess Co Lada had been desperately been trying to get her emotional men under control, some of their wives having just been killed and abused even in death.
But she herself was brought under control as she saw the mince meat Bannon and her squad had made as they saved the west gate from being overrun. How easy it was to kill.
The fire from the flaming ladders rose above the west gate, giving this part of the defense a breather, only for that breath to be taken away as they saw the silhouettes of the soldiers from Arnus, against the night sky.
They weren't done as they turned their backs on the defenders and pointed their guns outwards, tossing grenades into the congregated mass of those wanting to break in, but the gate itself, courtesy of Bannon, now full of corpses to travel over.
The rain, and reign, of modern firearms ruled over them masses again, as the seemingly bottomless AA12 opened up outside of the Gate, towards the covering shield formations, the wooden instruments of siege and pillaging. Bannon's teeth had been rattling by the vibrations of the AA12, the click of it being empty immediately having her drop the large drum magazine and retrieving the next of a handful: this one with explosive rounds.
Nothing, and no one, was spared as the great crowd of raiders just raring to climb over those walls retreated and tore themselves up over the barbed wire again, dissipating like water in the heat.
Princess Pina, in all of her wisdom, in her original task of scouting out these soldiers of Arnus, had sought to complete her task, and climbed up that blood ruined wall, pieces of flesh everywhere, her shined metal boots getting dirty for once, and saw what these soldiers saw, not only here, but possibly at Arnus.
Not one word had been said across from them, their uniforms having them all blend into one entity, and it confused her. It scared her. At how different these people were, under their helmets, but how outwardly they fought as one.
She could not find where their leader was, so all she did was watch in horror as the enemy of the Empire, saved them, one shot, one explosion, one great carnage at a time.
Their wands would not stop. They sound that made her ears ring was unceasing. The reality that these weapons, these men and women, were under any other pretense, were turned towards her, was maddening.
She held her ears, and she screamed for her Emperor.
The sound of thunder.
It meant monsters, colloquially, in this world, I realized.
But tonight the sounds of thunder had been coming from the AA12s Bannon and Masterson had deployed on either end, and they just would not stop for a span of five minutes as we heard from the south gate, intermingling with Rory's obvious troubles. Lelei, in all her logic, had stepped up and out, fearing no danger as Itami looked down at the gate below and saw Rory rolling around on the ground, writhing.
He stepped toward the stairs, only for an elf and a staff to stop him.
"Leeettt THEM iN! LET thEM in, nng." Rory's displeasures with our successful defensive strategy of "kill so many of them they trip on their bodies" had been less than helpful.
Out there on the barbed wire line, thanks to whatever magical gas Lelei had conjured up, men seemed to be melting.
"Why can't we go to her?" Itami asked.
The sound of her halberd hitting the door had caused those not glued to a weapon station to immediately peer over the edge of the wall and look at Rory, thrashing at the gate and the stone around it.
"Because she is an apostle." Lelei answered as the elf and she let Itami go.
Itami tilted his tired head confused as I took off my helmet for a second, unsure if whether to bark at the girl or to open the gate and appease her.
"What does an apostle do, in regards to her God again?" I asked.
"The souls of the fallen warriors on the battlefield pass through her body on their way to Emroy. As a demi-goddess, and an apostle, the effect on her is an intoxication that she can only curb by killing."
The sound of a battle horn had blared in the distance in regards to South. My radio had kicked in.
"Hitman 2-1! East is clear! Over!"
"This is Hitman 1-1, West has been pacified for now, enemy in full retreat. How copy?"
I slid on my helmet again as the UAV did its calculations. Still no effect on the total hostile count.
"This is Hitman Actual, I copy all. Reconvene on South Gate, enemy has routed and is reforming battle lines for a hit on the South. I repeat-"
I was cut off as a ball of fire was ignited in the distance of considerable size, the sound of a straining catapult in the distance staying my words.
The sound of rope being snapped was another, the visage of a ball of fire coming from the dark like nothing else.
"Scramble!" Itami yelled, and RCT3 had taken off in every direction as that giant clump of what looked like stone slammed just short of the wall, shaking the ground, rolling and taking out the gate only for Rory to use her halberd and sheer it in half.
The door was open, and her black form had disappeared into the black of night, passing through the gas wall like it was nothing.
The sound of maniacal laughing from her had only been answered by the screams of a hundred thousand men.
Hitman had been panting again as the boulder that was burned in the background, reassuming their weapon positions with bloody palms and red footprints.
"How many hours until our call for reinforcements is taken seriously?"
I glanced left at my time marker in my HUD.
"Two hours."
One hour later and it seemed the attacks had stopped. No one had of course, in their right mind believed they had. Of course any notion of anyone being right of mind had been thrown away as Loke had, with bloody finger printed, typed into the UAV's console laptop and seen one of the stupidest, most irresponsible, most threatening thing to conjure up that night on behalf of the raiders.
"I've been able to push a temporary patch into the system, let us display how many we're dealing with." The question of who exactly we were fighting had been the question of the last antsy hour as fires throughout the town were put off and the wounded were treated by equally bloody doctors and medics.
"Shoot me the number, hard and fast, Talia." I said as the Princess's men had dragged an intact body within the confines of the defenses. The man was an Imperial Army regular.
"Still 20,000 give or take what we just took out and burned."
The Princess had paled as she looked at us. "How- what?"
"We have something up above watching us princess," I said, kicking the dead man's helmet off. "now can you explain why we have Imperial Regulars marching with bandits and mercenaries?"
She had seemed just as taken aback by it as me, given that she was under threat of them.
"My fath-, I mean, Emperor Augustus ordered, upon losing Arnus, that all territory between Arnus and the Capital be burned, pillaged, and left useless in case of the enemy, you, tried to take them over… it appears some of these Imperial commanders saw fit to carry out his orders by falling in with bandits."
I cleared my throat. "Jesus Christ…" I looked up at her with tired green eyes, my hands numb. "Princess, I will not hold you responsible for this, but why in God's name will they not realize it is you that is leading the defense here?"
"Maybe I know too much. Maybe it's because we are assisting each other. Maybe they just don't know. Either way, my order of knights should be here in a two days."
"We might not even have two days, princess." I felt like I had burned my throat saying that. The gun smoke in the air was thick, weaved in with the smell of death.
"Itami!" I had barked across the way to the lieutenant, standing on the south gate wall, peering through his NVGs into the dark. "How's the perimeter looking?!"
He yelled down back to me. "Definitely an enemy build up. All of them!"
Lelei and Peters had been lining the entirety of the south wall with her concoction of white phosphorous imitation and what supply of C4 we had.
There was going to be hell to pay.
"No-! Wait! Enemy movement due direct south! Holy-!"
Kurata had peered out at the dark and saw a human wall that did not act in our favor. It acted in theirs.
I ran up only to confirm what everyone posted had saw:
A block of armored men, the width of the entire south wall, easily all those 20,000 deep.
They wanted us dead beyond words.
The march was like nothing else any of us had ever heard, a unified body that was far more intimidating than any Imperial division we'd seen yet. And they chanted deep, they chanted in sync, and they sang for the girl that was carved, ruined, and crucified on her own halberd.
Rory had been held up like a banner, covered with blood, and the look on her face could not be any happier.
Lelei had given technical words as we looked in horror, not only at the army coming toward us, but the banner they marched with and for.
"She cannot die, but she can be constrained."
I pointed at Lelei as our guns had been relocked and reloaded.
"How true is that?"
"Of the upmost honesty." she responded. "I advise shooting her loose."
All of us had looked at her. Kuro had been forced to chop her hair off with a knife, her bangs now short, her gaze blank and that of a warfighter she so desperately wanted to avoid becoming.
"We can't do that." she said, tears forming on her eyes, her lips quivering. "Please, god, I can't-"
She was near a thousand years old, as we discovered, but still, she looked like a kid.
We shouldn't shoot at kids.
We can't shoot at kids.
Silently, and very subtly, Shino had seized Masterson's M95 as she looked out at the distance, toward Rory, aiming before we knew what she was planning.
She did not care. She wanted to be like us: hardcore.
What is the image of the Ranger but to be the one that does what no one else did?
Itami had reached out for her, but she pulled the trigger before he could stop her.
One loud bang and Rory's right arm had come off entirely, allowing her to fall free from the crucifixion from her weapon and fall into the ground, disappearing into the mass of soldiers.
Itami had taken her arm as Masterson reclaimed his weapon. "What the fuck-!"
There was no time to complete his thoughts as Rory rose again, as if nothing had happened, in the middle of that mass and reclaimed her weapon all the same, the realization that she was not dead hitting the men just as hard as if they had been shot.
With that, the rush came, toward Rory out in the distance, toward us.
Shino's look in her eyes had been the same as always, as if she didn't fully acknowledge that she had just done what we had seen her done in full clarity.
Chuka had let loose another flurry of arrows before any of us had even opened fire, Peters coming back with Lelei riding on his much faster form.
"Explosives set, sir!"
"We'll deal with this later! We're moving! Everyone let go the mag in their guns and then vacate! Now!" I screamed as I did just that, my MCR's barrel going red under the constant use.
Even as men fell in the front, the raiders and Imperials took a calm that they needed: ignoring the chaos, embracing it, coming toward us as ranks after ranks fell and they did not care.
They were not human, even with a god in their ranks just chopping them in half like it was nothing.
Our guns clicked empty as we reconvened at the bottom of the ruined south gate, the boulder still smoking as the princess stood there, frozen, the army just outside the gate and still marching. She was the only one left. Everyone else had followed our orders and started lining the streets for warfare.
Itami had thrown her over his back as she was non-responsive, all of us running away back toward the first block of this town, a straight shot still at the gate.
This had not been before Harris had taken a bolt to his back.
The sound of it hitting his muscle suit was distinctive: like a tire being punctured, but not popping, the man himself shuttering as his right shoulder was hit and connected with flesh. He collapsed on the ground for but a second before dragging himself behind the cover of a building with the rest of us, Doc, even with his mouth bleeding from his own mistakes, tearing the bolt out with little trouble and shooting biofoam into the wound, a painful experience for Harris as it burned, aim now slack.
"You okay soldier?" I yelled across the street as the army came and started setting up its ladders to climb over the south wall, men making their way through the gate and into the first line's last defensive option set up by the original defenders.
"I'll be better when I see the damn fireworks." he yelled as he let loose a few rounds down range, hitting a few raiders in the chest and sending them down.
"Close your ears, girl." Peter had said to the sorceress on his back.
I waited with the clicker of the C4 very diligently, until enough were through to start breaking down the backup gates and defenses before they were truly in Italica.
It was our turn to make the earth shake.
Pina had gotten off Itami's back as RCT3 had taken cover further down the road, a perfect view for a perfect detonation:
Emerson squeezed the clacker in his hands once, and waited three seconds as he ducked back behind the building.
To say that the entire south wall had exploded, up and down, had been an understatement.
It was once described to the princess that, upon the first attacks, surviving commanders had thought Arnus Hill was exploding with their armies.
Seeing was believing, and she had seen what they had felt, saw, and knew what had happened to the Imperial armies and the allied units.
The correct word, was that the south wall in its entirety, had been destroyed with such force, that it cracked the Earth, the air, and the sky.
D-Day + 10
The Special Region –Arnus Hill - Camp Omega – Joint Marine-JSDF Command
Seismic activity was something that both the Marines and the Japanese knew intimately, so equipment had been shipped over the Gates for the express purpose of observing and collecting data of the new world.
However they were quiet machines in the offices of the Marine and JSDF Command on Arnus Hill. Up until today, of course.
The needles on them had gone haywire while Colonel Pierce had been enjoying a cup of coffee, reading the reports of the JSDF armored move out to this village that RCT3 and 2nd Lieutenant Emerson had found.
He looked over to them at distress as a few of the personnel did the same.
The actual designated geologist had taken a few seconds to register what was happening, he shouting both English and Japanese to the scientific counterparts of his as they gathered around the machine.
The activity was easy to read, and very incredible to hear.
"Sixty kilometers northwest… 2.1 on the Richter scale…"
Pierce's old eyes had lit up as he remembered who was out that way. He had a reason to take the Rangers seriously, seeing as they had gotten them into that mess in the first place.
The Japanese had been faster on the trigger, all air cavalry troops being summoned ASAP.
With that he had taken Major Sevson and Master Sergeant Freeman aside in the office, looking at them both, dead serious.
"Recall any Marines outside the camp. All 7th MEU's combat teams are deploying. Now."