Hey, Mr. Wang here... I am really sorry for how much I've delayed in this update. Sickness, writer's block, and school do a lot to hamper your progress. This chapter didn't really turn out as well as I hoped it would. Or maybe it did. I don't know. But, I hope it will be sufficient enough to pass you by until my next chapter. Oh, and a weird fact about your author: I purchased a copy of Valkyria Chronicles for the first time about two week ago. I've never played the game up until then, and this is partly the reason for the delay of this chapter. I feel so stupid! So many things I never knew! I never knew Melville had a mohawk! I thought Wendy was an engineer! I mixed up so many names with actual characters! And most weirdest of all, I found out how to correctly pronounce Noce's name! It's pronounced like "Nochee." I always said it like "No-say." Wow... If only Sega might make a DLC on Squad 3, and Peter a new character... Anyway, once again, I apologize for the delay. This one is my longest chapter to date, and probably the longest chapter I've ever made! Another reason why it took so long to make. So be warned, as you read this. Enjoy!
Peter panicked as he loaded another clip into his rifle. Looking over the rock currently shielding him from enemy fire, he saw he'd manage to take down a couple of Imps, but twice as many now stood over their fallen comrades. Or at least it looked that way in all the damn sand. The waves of enemies seemed endless.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Peter cursed, diving toward another rock as a couple shocktroopers came too close for comfort. Leaning up against the obstruction, he could see bits of gravel crumbling as the Imperials pelted the cover with bullets. Alongside Peter, Dan was laughing as unloaded a clip of ammunition into the faces of the incoming troopers.
"Whoo-ee! Damn, Peter! Did you see me take down those bastards?"
"Don't get cocky, man! This ain't a contest!" Peter said, frantically firing his weapon. He no longer bothered aiming. He merely took potshots at them, firing in their general direction. Dan yelled out something inaudible over the gunfire taking place. Some of the squad-mates in the troop transport had spread out, some in the area the two Bruhlers were in, others more spread with the rest of Squad 3. Others… well, dead.
"Ah, shit! Bail! Bail!" Dan yelled, quickly running from the cover of the large rock formation. Peter raised an odd look, before looking and seeing an old Imperial potato masher lying just a few feet away. Peter immediately got up and tried running after his friend, but the ensuing explosion managed to knock Peter off his feet. He felt a sharp pain on his forehead, and the gunfire in the background slowly died out. His eyes slowly closed, and the world went to black.
The Imps were on all sides. Just a few survivors of the Gallian Military, whether it be regulars or militia, were attempting to make a final stand at Randgriz. The paved roads and multiple buildings around town made Peter uneasy Each and every one of those windows and corners… the Imps could be around any one of them Everyone was huddled around a sandbag fortress guarding the entrance to a bunker that lead to the palace. The so-called "important" regulars were inside, leaving the "common rabble" to die. Just a few militia men and women were still there. Noce was mourning his late crush. Elizabeth and Dan were contemplating an imminent surrender. A sobbing Aisha, being told by Juno that everything would be alright. Edy was letting out an ear-shattering wail for Homer, whose broken body lay in her arms. Isara and the Darcsens all holding hands, saying prayers. And Susie, who was holding on tightly his hand. Peter looked at the scene with pity and… acceptance? Was he really so ready to die? Pitiful. Just pitiful. And, with the exception of the cries and panicked chatter of the others, it was relatively silent. One could hear the wind whistling amongst the anxiety. Everyone was on edge. Fearful. One could hack through the tension with a knife. Then, a single gunshot echoed in the air. Noce fell flat on the ground, in a pool of his own blood. A set of Imperial armor revealed itself, and opened fire. Another Gallian fell. Edy soon joined her fallen comrade as another Imp brandished his machine gun, firing with no remorse. Juno shielded the young child in her arms with her own body and, the woman soon crumpled, Aisha soon fleeing the scene only to be wounded by a heartless soldier. The Darcsens sang some sort of weird prayer or Darcsen song forlornly, as the Imperial soldiers picked them off one by one, silencing their tune. The echoes of their song and more gunshots rang through the alleys of the city. Peter could only watch in complete and utter horror. And when he felt the grip around his hand loosen, and a soft thud soon after, Peter immediately felt a shaking on his shoulder.
"C'mon, man! We gotta go!"
Dan frantically looked and wanted to run away, both him and Elizabeth urging him to leave.
"Screw it. We're all good as dead anyway…" Peter mumbled.
Dan slapped Peter coldly across the face. "Damn it, Peter! Don't go putting that bullshit on me! Stay with me!"
Peter merely stared at Dan, who continued trying to pull his arm to get him to leave the scene and get to safety.
"Peter! Peter?! PETER!!!!"
After faintly regaining his hearing, Peter could finally hear the yelling in his ear more clearly, almost bursting his ear drum. Somehow he knew he could already see, but when he "reopened" his eyes, there was no longer a war torn city. The scene of a ravaged desert with gunfire and bodies everywhere greeted him.
"For god's sake, Peter! Don't scare me like that!"
Peter looked up. At first, he was trying to regain his full ocular vision, and the sand flying through the skies didn't make that any better. Eventually saw Dan and Elizabeth dragging him against an old ruined wall and let go. After a realizing that he was on the ground, Peter pushed himself up and dusted off. He saw his rifle in Elizabeth's hand, and eagerly grabbed it away, checking the clip for any remaining ammo before pulling the bolt and taking aim.
"Peter, what the hell was all that crap about being good as dead?"
"You were in shock, Peter… are you sure you're alright?"
Peter looked back at Dan and Elizabeth, both of whom looked very concerned. He glanced back at the marching Imperial soldiers. From the cover of the rock wall, the enemy didn't seem aware of their presence, and the Imps were marching towards the side, as Peter watched carefully from the sidelines.
"You mind if we talk about that later? Now's not exactly the best time…" Peter said, glancing back at the two, before looking forward at the ignorant Imperials. "I think we might be able to flank them…"
"Fair enough. C'mon, Lizzy. Let's go kick some ass," Dan commented, loading a new clip into the rifle and cocking the rifle bolt. Elizabeth did the same with her own machine gun. However, an unusually timed radio call would soon cause them to break.
"This is Squad 3 Alpha! Lieutenant Drake, speaking! All my troopers are down, I need reinforcements! I want all available shock troops and lancers to get your asses over here! Scouts… well, you just soak up the enemy bullets and provide cover for your fellow man. That's an order! I'm sending up a flare on my position. Squad 3 Alpha out…"
The radio signal was cut off from there, and both the Bruhlers looked completely mortified at the commander's orders.
"'Soak up enemy bullets?' What kind of bullshit is that!?" Dan yelled. Peter quickly muffled him with a gloved hand, in order to at least retain some sort of element of surprise with the nearby troops. Elizabeth couldn't help but giggle at least a little bit, but the smile quickly disappeared.
"Look, an order's an order. And if we survive this mess and I never got there to help, that asshole Drake is gonna kill me…" Elizabeth said, shuffling uneasily. The blonde Imperial-Gallian girl looked very conflicted.
"Yeah? What about us? He basically ordered us to die. Is he gonna kill us if we happen to still be alive?" Peter remarked sarcastically.
The blonde shocktrooper couldn't help but let out another laugh. "Will you guys be okay without me?"
The two scouts looked at each other and shrugged. "Yeah, we can hold out on our own…"
Elizabeth nodded and cautiously looked around to see if there were any Imperials that could see her in their line of sight. The nearby Imps were occupied with a small detachment of Squad 3 troops. Probably just scouts "following orders." When the coast was clear she immediately dived into a trench, following a path that went towards the general direction of a bright flare rising up and radiating a light in the sky. Peter immediately was worried if that flare just a death wish, gaining attention of the Imps. However, he just didn't want to think about it.
"So… Whaddya propose we do now, Peter?" Dan asked, followed by a sigh.
"Hell if I know. We just lost our best fighter…" Peter replied shrugging.
"A girl? Our best fighter?"
"Spend a month or so in Squad 7. You'll understand better…"
"Ah, screw it. We don't need her. We can take care of ourselves," Dan said with a grin. "But I still don't understand how Drake made Lieutenant. He's got shit for brains..."
"Hell, if Damon is a General then anything's possible," Peter remarked, remembering the fat bastard.
"Good point."
Dan took a glance around the corner of the wall. The Imps had just annihilated the groups of soldiers, and were now patrolling, presumably towards the fading flare further within the desert battlefield. Sure, he's supposed to be a great commander, but where the hell did Drake get all that potential from EW1?
"Think we can ambush them bastards?" Dan asked, tightening the grip on his rifle.
Peter slowly walked towards the other end of the wall, opposite of Dan, and peeked at the troops. There were five of them still standing. The Imperials had their backs toward the two former watchmen, and were looking amongst the dead, checking bodies of their fallen, and any Gallians. Peter and Dan flinched as one of them unloaded a clip on a seemingly dead body. Whether the poor guy was really dead or not was unknown.
"Sadistic sons 'a bitches… C'mon. I say we throw a grenade or two. Catch 'em off guard. Whaddya say?"
Peter hesitated. He then nodded his head, thinking it to be the safest sounding solution, compared to a full on firefight. The two went for their potato mashers dangling from their belts among other things. They took the safety pins off, and saw the white trigger string dangling down, waiting to be pulled and thrown.
"On three?"
"Yeah."
The two silently counted in their heads. The suspense was killing them.
One…
Two…
"What the?"
The two Gallians looked over to their side and noticed an Imperial scout who has discovered them.
"Oh… unfuckingbelievable…" Dan cursed.
"That was predictable…" Peter said.
Acting quickly, Dan reached raised his rifle, still holding his grenade, and fired his rifle with one arm without support from the other. The accuracy was very shabby, but you can't complain when the man dropped like a stone in that heavy Imperial armor. As soon as an audible scream left the dying breath of the enemy, Peter and Dan tore off the strings and threw the grenades over the wall. Screams of confusion and the sound of a blast followed soon after. After relinquishing the cover from the rock wall, the two saw the broken bodies of the Imperials. Peter noticed a stray enemy scout, caught off guard and retreating. He aimed down the irons and squeezed the trigger. A spray of blood came soon after. Dan saw another straggler, his armor stained vermilion and torn from shrapnel. Whether he was an officer or not was hard to tell. As the wounded man limped away from the scene, Dan emptied the clip on his Gallian and reloaded. He then spit on the corpse's helmet. Peter however, wasn't in a stance to perform a similar act of defiance. His mind was elsewhere.
"Oh, Christ..."
Peter threw grenades before, and was no stranger to the death around him in a battlefield, but this was the first time he actually witnessed the results of the carnage, and the sandstorms died out just enough for it to be visible. The bodies... or at least what was left of them. Limbs left about everywhere... It was at this point Peter had realized that he didn't exactly have a strong stomach.
As he reloaded the gun, Dan immediately went down into one of the trenches that dotted Barious and ducked his head as he traveled along it.
"Dan, what the hell are you doing?!"
"Going after Lizzy! We shouldn't have just stayed behind with our thumbs ups our asses! A complete dipshit move! Fuck the Lieutenant! I'm going!"
Peter saw Dan run along the trench. Strange, as Dan sort of decided not to follow her. Peter knew that going on his own was suicide, and Dan was more stubborn than he was. Seeing what little options he had, he followed in suit in Dan's path.
As the trench progressed, the screaming, bullets, and sounds of combat increased. The air wasn't just clouded by flying sand anymore. Smoke, embers, and the screams of dying men were carried by the winds. Even some strange azure aura occasionally passed, sending chills down Peter's spine. The former watchman did his best to keep his cool at this point. He looked down toward the ground, following Dan's feet. He dared not to peek above the trench, for the purpose of not getting his head blown off, and to not be temporarily scarred by the scene unfolding. He even went as far as to silently pray for himself, Susie, Squad 7, and all his friends should he not make it. Right now, he was envying Dan for his bravery and being able to dive into this scene forward.
Or at least he did. Peter wished that he had some tools on him, or that Nadine was here.
In his headstrong dash toward the rest of Squad 3, Dan was oblivious to the danger around him, whether it be enemy soldiers, some of the tanks firing on Gallian forces, ect. However, when Peter stopped to catch a breath after chasing his friend, he looked up to see his friend still making a mad dash. He must really want to help Elizabeth. However, Peter noticed something along the ground, and in the path Dan was rushing recklessly. The circular shape sent shock into Peter.
"Dan! No, WAIT!"
"Wha-?"
Click
The next thing Peter knew, he had closed his eyes and reopened them. There was still the sands and the signs of battle marring the atmosphere. Only this time, where he look where Dan was running, he only saw half a leg lying on the ground. And no Dan. Frantically, he got up from the trench, in search of his longtime friend. He saw his body crumpled on the ground further along the path. Quickly, Peter ran as fast as he could. A couple Imperial troops were in the way, but he lifted his rifle, aimed, and pulled the trigger in succession in a fluid reflexive motion. Catching up, Peter was horrified to see his friend, missing his right leg. Miraculously, he was alive, but for how long, Peter could only guess. Dan slowly crawled on the ground, dragging and pushing himself forward with one arm, while attempting to unholster a pistol with his other.
"Dan! Dan, talk to me!" Peter yelped, practically yelling in his friend's face.
"Pete, I... I think my time's done here..."
"Damn it, don't pull off that whole 'I'm done for' bullshit, Dan! I'll get a medic. You'll get to a hospital, I swear!"
Dan chuckled as, but subsequently caughed blood from his mouth. "Heh. I know, but think realistically here... how bad is it?"
Peter looked at where his leg used to be with unease. "Y-you've been better..."
Dan loaded ammunition into his pistol. "Really? Heh. Well, Valkyrur, God, or whatever deity may lie up there might just go easy on a guy like me..."
"Dan..."
Dan spat out more blood, as he slowly turned his head to Peter. "Maybe I'm just crazy. But hell, I'll buy ya some time. Go. Make sure Lizzy stay's safe. For me."
As a tear slowly dripped from Peter's eye, he gave a slight smirk. "So... you finally admit that you like her?"
Dan laughed, while pulling back the slide on the gun. "Damn it, Peter... hehe... Just before I die, you just had to remember that talk a couple months back."
"Whatever keeps you laughing before you die, buddy," Peter commented with an uneasy shrug.
Dan slowly reached under his uniform and ripped out a pair of dog tags. "Take 'em. Something to remember me by. Now go. Get Lizzy outta here. I don't want Squad 3 to be nothing but a memory, now..."
Peter slowly looked at the tags in his hands, growing more emotionally unstable with each passing moment. "Dan, I..."
"GO!"
Without a second thought, Peter did as he was told. But when his feet started running, his back turned on him, he thought back on so many things, and a couple things left unsaid. Peter always figured he and Dan would grow up like old men at Bruhl, wasting away in the peaceful countryside. But, that was just wishful thinking. Now, Valkyrur, or whatever the hell god there was, rest his soul.
As Dan watched his long-time buddy run off, he reminisced on better times. His head was getting light, vision fading, as he looked back on when they were kids. Back when he and Peter met for the first time. When Peter met Susie, and Dan spread rumors around town that he thought they were together, much to Peter's dismay. The good times back in middle school. When Dan and Peter joined the Watch for the first time. The good days in Squad 3. And earlier today, before all this fighting. He'd been a bit of an asshole in recent times, ever since the war started. Maybe with this whole "sacrifice" thing, he'd get a sweet deal up in heaven. If not... then at least he'll never feel as cold as he does right now. A pair of Imperials approached him, and Dan opened fire with the pistol, unloading several bullets and managing to catch one off guard and getting a shot in the head in the other. The one still standing looked at Dan, eyes staring from the slits of the red metal helmet, glaring with fire. The trooper holstered his rifle and pulled out his sidearm, a revolver. Dan pulled the trigger once again, but to no avail. He was out of ammo. The Imperial officer looked like he wanted to take pleasure in the kill of his helpless opponent. He knelt down next to Dan, the barrel of the gun aimed at Dan's forehead.
"So, you Gallian dog... any last words before I end your miserable peasant life?"
"Yeah... Looks like we're both destined for hell..."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"This."
Dan had already pulled off the safety pin from the grenade on his belt before taking out the string to ignite the fuse. In a spectacular blue Ragnite blast, both Dan and the Imperial were gone.
Peter looked back after hearing the gunshots and explosions. He was horrified to see a blast from where Dan was, but now the deed was done. No turning back. No time to mourn. The least Peter could do now was run and fulfill Dan's last wishes. Turning his head forward, Peter ran forward, though a tad more cautiously, as to not step on a stray mine. Peter was hopping from one point of cover to the next, trying to avoid any Imperials along the way, but that was soon an inevitability. Soon, he could already see it.
Imps were already trying to corner the main surviving forces of Squad 3. Peter took the binoculars from his belt and inspected the situation from a distance. Taking a guess, there was about 15 troopers, and other Militia Personnel there. There were two tanks among them, one of them Peter recognized as the Valkyrian Tiger, Lieutenant Drake's tank. Those armored vehicles were probably the only thing that kept those people alive. The infantry was able to hold out against other infantry, while the tanks and lancers took out enemy armor. And Drake's tank almost could've rivaled the Edelweiss, though it lacked many of the innovations the famed engineer, Professor Theimer, created. They looked like they holding out on their own pretty well for a group that size, but the enemy still had seemingly endless reinforcements pooling in. Peter put his binoculars back and tightened the grip on his Gallian rifle and slowly progressed toward his allies. Using a keen Scout's eye, the Bruhler tried surveying area for a break in the line where enemy troops were rather thin. With that, he managed to find a lightly defended opening in their ranks, though that'd mean he'd have to take on two shocktroopers on by himself. Peter utterly hated enemy shock troops. Being a lowly scout, he wasn't properly armed enough to take on a shocktrooper single-handedly, let alone two. Peter also didn't have any more grenades on his person. Cursing, Peter slowly and cautiously crawled through another one of the natural trenches that the vast desert. He swore that the natural environment of Barious was both a curse and blessing. With trenches and sandstorms that partially blinded both sides, fighting a battle here had its ups and downs. The scout slowly peered up from the depth of the dug-up ground, and saw that the troopers still had their back on him. From the looks of it, they had unusually advanced machine guns, with some kind of attachments. Peter was now nervous, wondering if he should reconsider his path. But at the thought of the survivors dying off, the scout knew he had to act.
As he raised his rifle, Peter aimed down the irons, he tried aiming at the soldiers' hands. He once heard Cezary brag about how escaped a shocktrooper by shooting the gun out of his hands. Whether or not this true or complete bullshit, Peter couldn't decipher. It was crazy, but crazy was better than nothing.
"Steady, steady..."
Peter has the man's hands in his sights, but the Bruhler's own hands were rather shaky, anxiety setting in. Interestingly, the anxiety was a more prevalent problem in Squad 3 than back with the 7's. Peter tried to pull the stock against chest and steady it a bit more. His finger hovered over the trigger. With a silent prayer, he pulled the trigger. Peter missed the hands, but rather shot the gun. Suddenly, a small explosion ensued, and the Imperial trooper was engulfed in flames. The Imp was flailing around his arms and running in circles, before his charred body crumpled to the ground.
"What... the hell just happened...?"
The still-standing shocktrooper noticed the blue-capped scout and released a hailfire of bullets his way. Peter ducked back under the trench, still unsure of what the hell had just ensued. Peter looked up from underneath the trench, and noticed the stream of bullets had stopped. Instead, he was met with a much more startling sight. Cyan flames were flowing above him, and expanding around the trench. Peter panicked as he scrambled down the trench, away from the spreading flames. Whether the sweat on Peter's head was from the flames or the heat of battle, he didn't know. He poked his head up again, terrified that the trooper was somehow manipulating flames with his gun. Trying to regain his composure, Peter noticed the Imp was still focused on torching the trench, thinking he that the militia-man was still there. Terror and shock was very much instilled in Peter, but he had to cleanse his mind in order to live another day. With the enemy trooper's mind elsewhere, Peter aimed down the irons and fired the gun. With that, the trooper stumbled and fell into the trench and with it, the very flames he had created. Not knowing how the hell he just took down two troopers, Peter shrugged it off, and rushed toward the group surviving group of Squad 3.
Using his tactic of running from cover to cover, Peter rushed as fast as he could toward the militia garrison. Stealth, speed, and a little luck went some ways in helping Peter get to the destination. Several wounded, dying, or dead bodies were sprawled about. There were only two medics in the squad, and there was only so much they could do, as they quickly ran from soldier to soldier, trying to get them up with their Ragnaid kits. Infantry, including some scouts smart enough to regroup, were fighting off any other Imps, but the two tanks, including Drake's tank, were keeping enemy personnel at bay. A pair of engineers were stationed at each tank at the ready. Lancers assisted tanks in anti-armor, and everyone seemed like they had an invulnerable iron will to fight. How Peter was still alive and finally regrouped with his comrades was beyond him. He quickly dashed behind the tanks for cover. He was met with several more wounded, as the two medics, along with an engineer, were trying their best to heal them up.
"Peter, glad to see ya made out her alive!"
Peter took a glance at the man acknowledging him. It was the old red-headed engineer from back in the truck, and one of Peter's old Squad 3 friends. He was currently trying to operate on a wounded woman, using a Ragnaid kit traditionally used by medics.
"Rusty, what the hell's been going on?"
The man uneasily looked at the girl he was attempting to heal, and resumed his work while talking to Peter.
"Shit's been tough, Peter. We've been sufferin' heavy casualties, and Drake's been really losing it. In fact, the only person that's instilled any sort of order in us is the Sergeant," he said, carefully injecting a syringe in the poor girl's arm. "If we don't get any reinforcements soon, we're screwed."
The Bruhler shook his head at Rusty's response. He was right. These guys couldn't just fend off the Imperial force indefinitely. As Peter pondered this, an explosion was heard not too far from them. The two militia-men frantically looked at the source of the piercing sound. A tank shell had opened fire on the standard Militia tank, destroying one of its treads. The engineers stationed at the tank began trying to repair the damage, but one of them was immediately picked off by a gunshot. The surviving engineer was still working on the treads, pulling out some tools, as if his nothing had happened to his downed comrade. However, when the engineer looked to his side, from where the shell came from, he opened his eyes wide in surprise.
"TANK! Enemy tank!" the engineer yelled.
With that, the engineer packed up his tools and escaped, dragging his friend along with him. Another tank shell hit armored exterior of the tank, breaking off some of the extra steel plating added to its hull. It was a miracle the tank wasn't destroyed outright. Several people stationed around the militia tank panicked, running away from what the engineer had pointed out. Everyone knew a tank was already a big problem, but they already had two on their own side, plus a handful of Lancers. But what freaked out the infantry was some kind of heavily armored tank marching in, Imperial soldiers flanking either side of it. It seemed bigger than the medium tanks most of the militia had met with so far, and needless to say, had much stronger plating and canons. The massive treads rolled forward, spelling certain doom to whomever stands in its way. The turret fired off another anti-armor round straight at the tank it had shot earlier, breaking another hole in its defense.
"Oh, damn it... So this is how I die, huh? Imps and tanks, with my best friend already dead..." Peter mumbled to himself.
Before Peter could contemplate a will, a shrill whistling sound could be heard, silencing most of the squad. Faint at first, it gradually became a tad louder each passing second. Curiosity soon turned into more panicked and frenzied screams.
"Mortars! Artillery! Everybody, get the hell out of here!"a militia soldier shouted.
Peter was horrified at the news, and the sight of all the troops in chaos didn't help one bit. Amidst the anarchy, some of the Imperials were even able to take shots at confused and frightened Gallians, picking them off slowly.
Suddenly, some of the more keen-eyed soldiers, such as Peter and his fellow scouts, were able to see it in the air, closing in. The mortar shell was about to impact, and some Gallians closed their eyes in fear.
"I'll see you on the other side, Dan..." Peter mumbled.
The loud explosion was heard soon-after, but when it took a bit for the militia soldiers to realize that the mortar had impacted and destroyed much of the armor of the opposing heavy tank. Another shrill sound approached through the dust-ridden air, and another mortar round struck the tank, destroying much of the barrel of its gun, as well as the some of the turret itself. Astonished, the survivors of Squad 3 were still a bit confused, but they took advantage of the confusion that was now ensuing their enemy. Several militia-men and women raised their rifles and arms and opened fire on the Imperials, pushing them mortar rounds impounded the Imperials, dividing much of the force's attention from their Gallian enemies, to the artillery firing on them.
As the remnants of Squad 3 made their stand, a radio signal came in, contacting all Gallians in the area. The voice was of a young man.
"Sorry we're late. This is Squad 1 leader, Lieutenant Faldio Landzaat reporting. We heard there was some trouble out there. We'll be backing you up with more troops, as well as some artillery support we managed to capture from an Imperial camp. Let's work together to drive these guys out. Lieutenant Landzaat out."
As the transmission was cut off, some of the troops went as far as cheering, as the morale in went up drastically. Coming out of the cupola of the turret, Lieutenant Drake took a good look at his soldiers, before waving forward his hand, towards the retreating Imperial force.
"You heard Landzaat! Regroup with Squad 1, and take out any opposition along the way! We'll take down every last one of 'em! Squad 3, move out!"
The Lieutenant went back down inside the tank, and closed the hatch. Drake's specialized tank, the Valkyrian Tiger, soon went forth, with much of the soldiers following in suit. A couple of engineers were still working on the other tank that was damaged earlier, while the medics as well as other volunteers helped try to heal the wounded.
Peter looked amongst the injured, looking for his Elizabeth. Luckily, she wasn't wounded, but she must be off with the other forces that were moving. The scout bid farewell to his friends and squad-mates, and ran as fast as he could, trying to catch up with the main Gallian force.
Peter trekked more expanses of desert alongside the tank and its escorts, taking out any unfortunate foot soldiers that happened to be in its way. He couldn't find Elizabeth yet, even if there was barely fifteen troops alongside him. Peter found himself picking off enemies while mostly staying in a group with other soldiers to help better his chance for survival. As they progressed along, more and more blue uniforms were entering the fray, presumably Squad 1 soldiers. Their presence slowly tipped the edge in their favor, while consequently making it harder for Peter to track his friend down. But at that moment, he didn't seem to be complaining. They seemed to be turning this horrible loss into a real fast one, and the militia might be able to salvage a huge victory from their first struggles in this desert skirmish, to defeat the huge opposing force. Mortars occasionally rained hell on the fleeing soldiers, while some of the tank brigade from Squad 1 marched on the battlefield, lead by Landzaat himself, like a bunch of Valkyrur storming in to save everyone from the old ancient menace that plagued Europa.
Peter never saw how ironic that analogy would come to be later on in the battle.
Amidst the bullets, mortars, bodies, and waves of soldiers on both sides of the conflict, a strange azure flame was standing within the Imperial's ranks. It slowly moved out toward the front of the ranks of Imp soldiers. And within that blue flame, stood what appeared to be a person. While some of the Gallians continued with their assault, others were bewildered by the sight, not knowing what the hell that thing was. Several chatters could be heard around the troops from the squads, unsure of how to react at such an appearance.
Lieutenant Drake himself opened the top hatch of his turret, and using a pair of binoculars, he peered at the sight. What he saw was truly unusual, and part of him laughed at himself at what he saw, while the other part prayed his old eyes were merely playing tricks on him.
A woman bathed in a blue flame, carrying an unmistakable cobalt lance and shield. Pure strands of white hair was fluttering about, as her devilish red eyes seemed to be looking straight back at Drake, even from the far distance he was observing her from. Her scarlet eyes narrowed, almost as if they were looking straight into the old lieutenant's soul.
"What... the hell is she...? Could it... no, it can't be..."
It was just stupid just thinking about it. They were a bunch of fairy tales. And if they even were real, they were supposed to be extinct or something. But when he saw through the binoculars, the image of the woman raising her lance and pointing it straight into Drake's face, there was no denying it.
The Empire had a Valkyria in their ranks.
Still looking through the lenses, the lance began to spiral and started to glow much more fiercely, along with the matching shield she carried. Not many things surprised the grizzled EW1 veteran. But this actually made him shriek in terror. Then, his vision was blinded by a bright azure light.
Moments later, the Valkyrian Tiger, with Lieutenant Drake with it, were cast into a large ragnite-induced explosion, leaving nothing but a heap scrap metal and cobalt flame where the tank once stood.
Peter was knocked off his feet by a massive shockwave, that just seemed to come out of the blue, with no hint or indication as to where it came from. Feeling slightly disoriented getting up, Peter was shocked to realize what sight awaited him. A massive crater and blue flame stood where Drake's tank was. A path of scorched earth led up to the point where the tank was destroyed. Peter looked down the trail until realized the point of origin. The azure flame off in the distance had a much more visible figure in its wake, even from the distance Peter was looking through. The person appeared to have a feminine figure, while she carried a massive glowing weapon amidst the blue embers. What kind of Imperial arms had such devastating power? The Bruhler was even more terrified when the woman started leading the army behind her towards the scattered forces of the militia. While Squad 1 might last a little longer, Squad 3 had just lost their leader, and things within the squad were pretty hectic as it was. Peter saw her raise her weapon, which appeared to be a lance, in the general direction of the militia forces. He then heard her chilling voice echo through the entire battlefield, and was guaranteed to send a shiver down the spines of every Gallian soldier in the area.
"Soldiers of Gallia," she called out. "Surrender now, or perish and be buried beneath the sands of Barious!"
A tank from Squad 1 responded with a tank shell flying her way. In a lightning-fast reaction, she raised her lance and swatted the tank shell away, as if it were a mere fly. Miraculously, she remained unscathed. Then, the lance, as well as the womans entire body, erupted in cobalt flame with much more ferocity. Aiming her lance, a powerful beam of light was emitted, destroying the very landscape as it went, easily destroying the tank and everyone unlucky enough to be caught in the blast.
"Very well then. I shall promise to make this quick. To arms, my men! And may we succeed for the glory of the Empire and His Grace!"
Several rallied war cries from the Imperial side made their impression on the Gallians, as their forces started backing away, while the Imperials started marching forward. Some of the mortars Squad 1 had taken were concentrating fire on the woman, swatting the shells away and blocking them with her shield. Any foot soldiers foolish enough to get in her way were either impaled by the lance, or vaporized by another beam.
As all this happened, Peter was running for his very life. Some others did the same, while others continued to fight on. Peter didn't dare look behind him, as the screams and gunfire already painted a bloody picture of the carnage in his mind. What the hell was that woman? Is she even human? He already had his doubts about the war, just because of her. This couldn't be real. This had to be a dream. It had to be. Or a nightmare. Whatever the hell this was, knew he needed to get out of this mess, and fast. Peter was catching up to the point where the medics were trying to heal the wounded. Among the injured and broken, Peter noticed an unmistakeable blonde laying on the ground, with a medic attending her.
"Elizabeth!"
Peter quickly knelt down, next to her, while the medic continued working. From the looks of it, she was hit a couple of times in the leg. The medic continued working frivolously, while bullets were still flying on both sides.
"Lizzy, you alright? Doc, is she gonna be alright?"
The medic didn't bother to look at him, but she nodded in response. Elizabeth slowly turned her head towards Peter.
"Pete? Is that you?" Lizzy asked weakly.
"Yeah, Lizzy. I'm here for ya. C'mon. Soon as you get healed, we gotta high-tail it outta here," Peter said, gesturing the medic to hurry.
"W-where's Dan?"
Peter cringed at what he knew was coming next. "Dan... he's dead. I'm... I'm sorry, Elizabeth."
The blonde shocktrooper raised her eyes in surprise, then slowly closed them mournfully. Peter found the look on her face to be heart-breaking. However, the moment was broken, as the medic operating on Elizabeth was shot, yelping before falling face-flat to the ground. Peter ran over and shook her a bit. When there was no response, Peter started panicking.
"Doc? Doc, you okay?!" He turned the body over and was horrified to see a bullet wound in the neck. Looking over his shoulder, the scout saw the Imps coming in. Peter took aim with his rifle towards the Imperials on his trail. He noticed that the woman wasn't leading a force straight towards his position, thankfully, but a sizeable force of Imperials were still marching toward him nonetheless. At least that witch was nowhere to be found. Scouts seemed to make it farthest ahead, and Peter aimed through the irons and fired at each one. He had lost a friend today, had a wounded friend next to him, and there was no way in hell he'd lose her too. And that proved to be one hell of an invigorating force. He aimed, he fired, then repeated. Each of the enemies let out a shriek and yell, as they crumpled in the sands. After the immediate threat was gone, Peter quickly grabbed the Ragnaid kit the medic had with her, and tried helping Elizabeth. However, he wasn't very skilled with the specialized healing methods medics were trained with. He simply grabbed a Ragnaid capsule, applied it to Elizabeth's wounds, and hoped for the best. He also applied some Ragnaid dressings for good measure, but beyond that, Peter's inept medical prowess stopped right there. However, more troops were marching in, and both Peter and Elizabeth needed to get the hell out of there.
"Lizzy, can you walk?"
The shocktrooper struggled to get up, but before she could fall back down, Peter lent a hand and lifted her up himself. She then put an arm around his neck, while Peter leaded. As the two struggled onward, a radio signal was heard incoming once again. Faldio's voice.
"Ugh... Damn... This is Lieutenant Faldio Landzaat. This is to all remaining militia personnel: pull out. I repeat! Pull out, now! We're taking too many casualties. We won't last long against them and that... that Valkyria...! Retreat now! That's an order! We've got armored convoys from Randgriz near the position of our mortars. The location is in the southeast, near some ruins. We'll be waiting as long as we can, but if that woman shows signs of coming toward our position, we've got to pull out without you guys. I hope to see you guys through. Landzaat out."
"Valkyira...?" the Bruhler muttered. "Is that even possible?" Shaking the thoughts off for another time, Peter checked his compass, and looked towards the southeast. Looking through his scout's binoculars, he could already see a group of ruins, and some APCs, trucks, and other vehicles waiting. He turned his attention to Elizabeth.
"You heard Landzaat. I'll help you out. We'll take it easy, but we got to hurry, too. Let's go, Lizzy."
The girl nodded, and Peter practically had to carry most of the weight of the girl, but they had to get moving. With the Imperial force so close, they didn't have much time before they'd end up getting slaughtered like the rest of the squad.
Adrenaline was coursing through Peter, as he was practically dragging Elizabeth with him. Dodging enemy fire while helping someone walk wasn't exactly an ideal position. At least, with her free arm, Elizabeth tried taking pot shots with her machine gun, though the gun was horribly inaccurate as is, let alone aiming with one arm over your shoulder.
The convoy was so close. It was within Peter's sights. Freedom and safety was just a hop, skip, and a jump away. Peter used all his strength to try and support Elizabeth's weight, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain, and one of his legs suddenly gave. Peter and Elizabeth both fell on sandy grounds, struggling. The scout noticed his right leg was bleeding. He struggled to get back on his feet, using his rifle to help prop himself up. Peter felt himself being hoisted up, and when he saw this time it was Elizabeth assisting him, he knew that they had a fighting chance to survive. Using his rifle as a sort of makeshift cane, Peter hobbled over with his friend towards the evacuation point. Upon closer inspection, the ruins were used an encampment for the Empire's mortars, which Squad 1 used for themselves. However, they had abandoned their positions there, though machine gun positions were still being occupied to help the survivors. Some tanks were also there, though some were already rolling out, possibly retreating towards Kloden. One of the gunners acknowledged their two new fellow soldiers, and an engineer from Squad 1 helped escort them to a nearby APC, where some medics, as well as several other injured and tired militia soldiers were waiting. The gunner meanwhile took down any stragglers still pursuing them.
As Peter and Elizabeth boarded a troop-transport truck, a medic quickly operated on Peter's leg. His procedures stung like hell, but it was either that, or use a crutch for a while. Peter looked around the cramped vehicle, it almost felt like his ride earlier today, before the first shots were fired on Squad 3. Except... it was much, much more bleak and depressing. Amongst the faces, most were unrecognizable, most likely from Squad 1. But a few were from Squad 3, including his engineer friend, Rusty. However, the red-head had his eyes closed in a very forlorn fashion, probably mourning his lost comrades. Even his old sergeant was there, though he seemed to be... crying? Peter always knew the man as very level-headed and rather cheerful. But the tension and defeated looks on everyone's faces wrote a thousand stories, each with their own sad and morbid ending. Hell, some of them were in worse shape than he was, making Peter wonder why the medic was bothering with his leg than trying to heal the gash on that mans arm, or the incessant bleeding on that woman's temple.
"I think this truck's full on passengers. We best get going, before the witch and more Imps show up," said the medic addressing the driver. The driver up front nodded, and started the engine. The car slowly rumbled, and drifted away. Peter could slowly feel his eyes growing a bit more heavy, as the sounds of bullets, screaming, and dying faded away. He tucked the front of his worn old cap over his eyes once again, and drifted off...
"Wake up. Peter...? Peter, get your ass up!"
Woken from his rather short respite, Peter noticed Elizabeth getting out of the truck along with the other passengers inside the truck. She was standing on her own two feet unassisted, which seemed like a good sign, but the fact she was holding her MAGs machine gun in her hand led to some doubtful thoughts.
"W-what's going on?" Peter asked, lifting his hat up from his eyes.
"We gotta help Squad, 7! You know, your squad? They drove the Imperial forces back! We gotta make sure they get out of this scorching desert for good!"
Peter immediately snapped out of any sort of grogginess he may have had. "Squad 7?" he repeated. Throughout this whole battle, he'd almost completely forgotten about them. "God, if Welkin, Alicia, and all the others were there, some the others were there, we might not have suffered as many casualties as we did. Maybe even Dan would be alive..." he thought.
"Snap out of it! This is our chance, Peter! Now let's go!" Elizabeth continued.
Peter noticed his Gallian was right at his side, and grabbing it tightly, the Bruhler was determined to be reunited with his friends. Hopping out, Peter saw with his eyes, the very bewildering sight before him. Several tanks and militia soldiers, spear-headed by Welkin and the Edelweiss. And in front of them... the whole Imperial army at Barious, fleeing. Everyone that was left from Squads 1 and 3 rallied behind Lieutenant Gunther, driving back the invaders. Peter ran alongside his fellow militia troops, ready to give the Imps some of their own medicine. Using his speed, Peter quickly tried heading up to the front lines of the assault, with Squad 7, and to make those Imps pay dearly for what he had done to his old squad. Some of the familiar faces could be seen, including some of the shocktroopers like Rosie, Vyse, Jane, and others. Peter knew he was in good company, and it was nice to be back. He faught back fiercely, firing his rifle until it ran out of its ammo. And when that happened, Peter resorted to his sidearm. He was truly invigorated, finally seeing Gallia having the upper hand in this fight. After so much bloodshed and death, he could finally be able to live another day. Even the so-called "Valkyria" was in the Imp's ranks, trying to rally an army, only for it to fall on deaf ears. Seeing as how this was to be a futile effort, and winning this fight is hopeless, even the witch retreated with her soldiers.
And when he saw the Empire's forces retreat over the sandy hills, and nothing in sight, Peter and the Militia couldn't help but shout and cheer.
After the cheering and celebration, Peter found himself surprisingly saddened all of a sudden. Sure, they won, but at what cost? So many lives lost on his old squad. Maybe... just maybe if he had just stuck with Squad 7, this wouldn't be getting to him so badly. But seeing them die with his own two eyes... It finally occurred to him that Dan and several old friends from Squad 3 were now dead. Hell, even Peter would miss the old bastard of a lieutenant he once had. After all the conflict, all that sorrow and mourning he'd bottled up in the battle let itself go. Reaching down in his pocket, he looked at the dog tags his friend had given him earlier, just before his self-proclaimed righteous act. Peter gripped the dog tags tightly, remembering his friend so.
"Peter?"
Peter turned his head to person acknowledging his presence. Elizabeth stood, while other Squad 1 and 3 personnel were boarding the trucks to get back to Randgriz. Wiping a stray tear, the former watchman took his eyes of the tags in his hands.
"Yeah?"
"We're gonna be going soon. And you've got a squad to go back to. I, uh, guess this is goodbye?" she said, shifting about.
"Yeah... I guess this is," Peter said, more as a whisper to himself. With a few steps forward, Elizabeth opened her arms. Taking the gesture, Peter hugged his only true remaining Squad 3 friend left. As they left each other's embrace, Peter glanced at the tags in his hand one more time, before calling out to the trooper. "Hey, I think you should take these," he said, offering the dog tags to Elizabeth. She took them in awe and melancholy, as she looked at the name inscribed.
"These were... Dan's?" she asked.
"Yeah. He gave them to me... but I think he'd want to you to have them. You... you were special to him Lizzy. Whether you know it or not..."
Elizabeth nodded, more tears streaming from her face. She looked at them one last time, before holding them against her heart and pocketing them. "Thanks, Pete. I'm gonna miss you. But I'm sure we'll meet up again some day." She waved goodbye, and boarded a truck. As the motors started running, she gave one final look and wave back, as the truck finally rolled out, and Elizabeth was no longer in sight. Peter took another deep sigh. He didn't exactly give the dog tags to her because he thought she'd appreciate them more than he would. That was part of it, but to be honest, he gave them away as a means to try and forget about Dan quicker. It was a horrible thing to even think of, but for Peter, he felt he wouldn't do his squad much good, moping around for a dead friend. Peter searched through his pouches and bags for a particular item. When he found his old flask, Peter took a quick swig of the contents inside. God knew he needed it. Pocketing it, he heard subtle footsteps approaching him.
"P-Peter...?"
That shy bordering-on-whisper voice was very recognizable. Slowly turning his head, Peter noticed his long-time friend and squad-mate, Susie Evans.
"Susie..." he muttered, somewhat surprised to see her.
"Oh my god..." A tear slowly dripped from her porcelain face, as she tightly wrapped her arms around him. "W-when I saw that you weren't here when we faced the Imperials... and when the radio said Squad 3 suffered heavy losses, I..." she trailed off, muttering incoherent things, as she buried her face in Peter's chest. Hesitating, he comfortingly put an arm around her, slowly silencing her sobs.
It was at this point Peter realized Susie was one of the reasons why he was fighting this war, and why Dan's death hadn't made him go insane yet. He was fighting for Susie. He was fighting for Bruhl. He was fighting for Dan. For Elizabeth. For Noce. For his friends. And for his country. He hasn't lost everything yet. He had lost one friend already today, and many of the memories of Squad 3, were now in the were now that, and nothing more. Squad 3 would probably get disbanded because of the heavy casualties. And as he held Susie in his arms, Peter was determined not to let her, or anyone or anything else go.
Damn it... It's half past midnight, and I finally got this freakin' chapter done. Jesus, 9,280 words (excluding final A/N)! Sorry if it was too long, or I could've divided this in two chapters... I'm tired... Alright, there might be some errors riddled throughout and the end might've been a bit fast paced and sloppy. Hell, this chapter was one of the ones I had planned out when I first wrote the first chapters. And it took this long just out. I really should have given you guys higher quality for taking this long. Sorry if the section near the end is messed up in any way. I might have gotten sloppy. And the ending cheesy. But hey! It's 12:37 out here, as I post this up! Give me a break, and I might just edit this. But seriously, Valkyria Chronicles has some really high standards for its works if you want to be taken seriously. *Sigh* And with this, I finally lay my weary fingers from this keyboard for a well-deserved respite. I'll try my best to get the next chapter faster.
~Mr. Wang