Warcraft: Arrival from the stars
Disclaimer: Warcraft by Blizzard Entertainment, Civilization by Sid Meier's, Firaxis games and 2k
How will the People of Azeroth Deal with an entirely new branch of Humanity, one with advanced technology that rivals anything seen by both the Alliance and the Horde.
Chapter 9: 'Minigun's and Diplomacy'
Kozlov saw bright flashes in the darkness of the desert. That told Kozlov one thing, some kind of explosive ordinance had just been used, though another possibility was that it might be some kind of magic. Kozlov didn't know much on the subject of magic since Anachronos avoided that subject, even when Kozlov purposefully tried to bring it up into a discussion. Hopefully the 'Centaurs' would run away and avoid targeting his civilians as targets, otherwise Kozlov would have a serious fit.
'Centaurs are real... i feel like driving my head into a wall. On earth this would put me in an insane asylum, and i am expected to deal with plenty more aliens so similar to earthen legends and myths. At least i know one thing, that these are the tartar equivalent of Azeroth.' Kozlov thought emphatically.
"Hruugggh."
Kozlov turned around to see the shocked expression on Koto's face.
Kozlov took that moment to ask a question to gauge what the troll thought. "What are you shocked at?"
Caught on the nip of the moment, Koto gave a response. "Ahh... i dun'no man, all this killing power, Thrall would'na like this."
Kozlov grinned, he had thought that his question was innocent but now he had just gained important knowledge, even if Koto hadn't realised it.
'Now to press the issue at hand' thought Kozlov.
"This Thrall, i take it he likes power?"
"No, Thrall likes peace."
"How about this Thrall, is he level headed, just as you might say?"
"I never met him, but i did 'ear good things 'bout Thrall, all good things. Thrall is da best chief and it is an honor ta serve him."
Kozlov decided to change the conversation to something more unconventional. "Tell me, if i were to speak to this Thrall, how would i approach him?"
Koto realised that he could gain leverage over Kozlov by saying that Thrall would demand a substantial gift, but decided to rephrase it mentally before saying it outright.
"Thrall likes da gifts mon... he likes plenty of things."
Kozlov quickly changed the subject of the conversation. "This land is all owned by the Horde, is it not?"
Confused at the question, Koto took a second to think things through before answering back. "Aye, all dis land 'til you reach 'round Theramore is ours."
Kozlov remembered hearing about Theramore isle from Anachronos.
"This Theramore isle is a city owned and inhabited by the Alliance, is it not?"
"It is."
'That is good, they are relatively close enough that i could send a diplomatic envoy, but whom do i send?' Kozlov began to formulate plans for the future within his head.
"General, a tacjet scanner reports that we have hostiles about 400 meters up, around that dune."
Kozlov reached out towards the troll's night vision goggles and turned it on.
"I can see green."
Kozlov snickered for a moment. Kozlov enjoyed the troll's odd yet reassuring qualities, especially the troll's unbridled curiosity. "That's what it's supposed to do... it lets you see in the dark. Night, that one thing, that shade of black that has taught us to fear our own shadows in the old ages past, is eliminated with the progress of technology." If there was one thing that Kozlov was emphasizing, it was his technology. If the Horde couldn't be made to fear the Slavic Federation, at the very least they should see his faction as some sort of trading party, where good's could be traded for technological gains… a one up against the alliance as it were. If the Horde never feared Kozlov, and was not receptive to trade, then Kozlov knew that he had no choice but to pre-emptively attack, be it the Horde or the Alliance that faced the attack, Kozlov had not decided.
Kozlov quickly turned around to give new orders to his men.
"Private Tarasovich, get on that turret. Private Stepanovich, get us up as close as possible to the hostiles, but try not to get us seen."
Both soldiers got to work on their respective orders.
Private Tarasovich quickly and awkwardly climbed his way up to the turret, which was a Chinese Hua Qing QJZ-114. Kozlov remembered that they were handed out back in 2186 in a joint show of friendship whilst the New Russian Federation (NRF) gave out a bucket load of main battle tanks and unmanned aerial combat drones. Eventually those were used against the Bulgarians, the Hungarians, the Kavithan protectorate and even 'accidentally' against the New Russian Federation, which garnered much animosity between both sides. Conflict seemed inevitable, but the third stock exchange crash in America shook all sides into an unwanted truce. No faction wanted to be poor and war-ravaged, only to be swallowed up whole by the many rival squabbling nation-states that the EU had become, thus the truce remained for five years. Kozlov remembered those days as a child, and it was hell.
"General, i have eye's on outlines who i presume are enemies. Permission to engage?"
Broken from his thoughts, Kozlov gave an order. "Hold. You will follow all set law's of military conduct."
"No firing til fired upon, or when given the order."
Kozlov nodded.
"I feel magic."
Kozlov turned to look at the troll, who was pointing out through a transparent aluminium frame window. Kozlov canted his head sideways to get a better view, and he saw crackling forks of lightning descend upon what must have been a centaur, given the silhouette of a green horse. The brightness of the lightning blinded Kozlov's view, so Kozlov removed his night vision goggles and set it to the top of his helmet, before doing the same to the troll, who must also have been blinded.
"I no believe it, that be Thrall."
"Serious, speak of the devil. Tarasovich, raise your gun and get out."
Tarasovich did as ordered and raised his gun turret, before ducking down and getting out of his seat. Kozlov quickly replaced Tarasovich's spot, raising his head out of the Combat Rover to spot the figures in the east. His left hand was kept onto the stock of his carbine.
Kozlov held his right hand across his head, to better see with the fact that one of his eyes was still seeing the blurred fork outlines of lightning that plagued his sight. "Is there a Thrall amongst you, who i presume to be Horde members?"
To his surprise, Kozlov heard a voice not a moment too soon. "I am Thrall, son of Durotan. I have heard that you have killed several of my men, and captured many more."
Kozlov wasn't one who liked to sugar coat things, so he replied truthfully. "Yes, i have ordered that some of your men to be killed, but only because they posed a threat to my colonists. As you have said, i have captured a great many more of your people, and they are being safely held, until talk's can be arranged."
"You bastard, i will kill you!"
That comment came as no surprise to Kozlov.
"Garrosh, reign yourself!"
Kozlov tightened the grip on his carbine, but gave a casual response.
"If there is diplomacy to be discussed, it can be done at a later date. As you may have seen, we have a group of Mongol-like's and their allies sacking my village. Centaurs, as you call them, and they have taken my people hostage!"
Thrall sensed the anger in Kozlov's voice. "We have saved your villager's, the Centaurs have fled to the east, no doubt returning to their homes. Your people have been teleported to a safe place where they will be safe. They will be returned once we have established a diplomatic arrangement."
"All of them, there are no more Centaurs?"
Thrall saw the attack unfold earlier, and he knew that they had only attacked from the north, so there was no other parties that could have evaded Thrall. "No, they only came in one party and attacked from the north. They shall not pose a threat again, unless they come back in greater numbers."
Kozlov quickly gave a response. "Do you have men following the Centaurs?"
"No."
Kozlov lowered his left hand to his pocket, before pulling out his vidpad.
"Tac-jet operators, be advised, look to the East. Engage any ground targets."
-Tink-
Kozlov heard the sound of an impact against metal. He quickly ducked down, his eyes level as he looked for what had aimed for him.
Kozlov lowered his night vision goggle to cover his left eye, before grabbing both hands onto his carbine. He took off the safety and cocked the bolt back. For a carbine, it had an awkward design with elements more common in a sub machinegun then in a carbine. Kozlov's firearm was ready.
Kozlov turned his head down and saw as someone who he presumed to be was Thrall threw what looked like a hammer, causing the Centaur to fall down dead with a broken shoulder.
"THERE THEY ARE, KILL THEM ALL!"
Kozlov craned his neck and saw what seemed to be a whole group of Centaurs riding out from the large grouping of palm trees that dominated the region nearby. Kozlov felt like an idiot for trusting in the supposed better knowledge of the local inhabitants. Perhaps what Thrall saw instead was one group of Centaurs, and not more. At least Thrall had supposedly found his colonists and presumably saved them from a fate worse than death.
Kozlov looked down through his Vindicator's ACOG sight, 1.5x zoom with a circular reticule. Looking through the Radium phosphor sight, Kozlov noticed that it was partially diminished, no doubt due to the long time spent in space and because of the half-life rate of Radium.
"Tarasovich, get out and cover my six!"
As soon as he heard the door opening, Kozlov quickly acquired a target and readied his trigger finger. Kozlov may not have been in a proper battle in a very long time, but he knew that he would not attack any enemy first without having his back covered by a squaddie.
The Vindicator has been ridiculed as being a very weak weapon, no doubt thanks to its 7.62x33mm round. However, the fact that the weapon fired at a slow 450 rounds per minute, featured very good inbuilt recoil spring and had a 500mm barrel, the weapon had great performance and astounding accuracy with very little feelable recoil, such that it felt like a child's gun. With a full metal jacketed round firing at 650 meters per second or thereabouts, they were considerably lethal. Throw in the small size of the round and the capacity of forty rounds on a standard double-stack magazine, the weapon was seen as perfect for close combat by the Brasilian patrol forces.
Kozlov pulled the trigger, sending forth round after round as the bolt drew back and forth. The first shot landing in the stomach of the enemy, going straight through flesh and blood and intestine. The kinetic impact pushed the centaur back a millimetre or two.
The second round tore straight through the chest, ripping through a rib and tumbling. The impact was fierce.
Kozlov's third round zipped right past flesh and blood, before impacting on sand a little over forty meters away. Kozlov's fourth and fifth round went through intestine and flesh, before impacting against sand forty meters away.
All shots were in a grouping a little over 3 centimetres apart from each other. With such a tight grouping, Kozlov knew that he would have hit vital organs, and thus stopped firing.
Kozlov saw that the rest of the Centaurs were too busy being distracted by Horde members, who were in a violent melee no less than fifty meters away. Kozlov took the opportunity to drop his Carbine carefully down before climbing up to the turret mount. Kozlov took the grip of his gun.
Kozlov flipped up the plastic safety guard's before checking to see a green light. Instead Kozlov saw red.
"Driver, turret, go!"
It was standard operating procedure that the vehicle operator fed the power into the turret, in this way it allowed a commanding officer to stop an unruly soldier from going crazy with their turret, therefor creating a political shit-storm the size of Jupiter for any faction involved. It was designed to stop horrible war-crimes, sure, but it could also affect combat operation effectiveness and could even be a pain in the ass for any turret operator who wanted to let loose on the get-go.
Kozlov took the time to change the elevation and adjust his angle before looking through the ACOG sight. Kozlov then checked to ensure that the feed-stripper and feeding chute were both firmly attached and secured to the gun.
Kozlov waited for the light to go green, and when it did, Kozlov was ready. His targets were several archers about 100 meters to the right, on top of a dune. It would be an interesting challenge for Kozlov, because they were covered by a large quantity of palm trees. Kozlov had never fired a minigun before, though he had been briefed on how to use one. It was a little hard, being that it was night time, so Kozlov made sure to double check that what he was seeing was right.
"Soldier, on my eight o'clock, one hundred meters, on that dune behind the tree's, are you seeing what i am seeing?"
It took a moment for Tarasovich to manoeuvre around the ATV to where he could be in a position to see what Kozlov had seen, before going prone against the sand. Tarasovich looked through his scope, before confirming what Kozlov had seen.
"Sighting confirmed. Target's look like archers to me. They seem to be aiming at those Orc's, 40 meters to our nine."
Kozlov quickly turned his head to see where the archers were firing.
"Soldier, load up a smoke round and fire it into the archers."
Kozlov saw as Tarasovich loaded in a smoke round into his underslung grenade launcher. He then zeroed in his sights before firing at an arc, letting the missile fly through with extreme accuracy.
As the smoke occluded the Centaur archer's vision, they stopped firing their bows.
Kozlov quickly reached into his pocket before putting his earbud's into his ears.
Kozlov returned back to the turret, before thumbing down on the trigger switch, expecting a spout of flame and a loud, rumbling noise.
The Combat rover shook with the firing of the 14.5x114mm Hua Qing QJZ-114 minigun. At the rate the minigun was expending rounds, dust and tree-matter where sent tumbling. There might have been palm tree's blocking the way, but they were as nothing when they were torn apart by the combined shot density and kinetic impacts, sending palm tree bits falling in its wake.
Kozlov may not have been able to see through the smoke cloud that covered the targeted area, but he was sure that anyone that was once there would be dead. The way that lines of spent tracer rounds lit up the night sky was both beautiful as well as helpful; since it guided Kozlov as to just how accurate his firing was, helping him to adjust his aiming when it was needed. There was little kickback from the weapon, such that Kozlov saw it more as a bullet hose than a heavy weapon.
Kozlov paused from firing for a moment, letting the dust and debris settle down to the ground before firing a three second burst to ensure that the target area was saturated with fire again. Then Kozlov stopped.
Kozlov checked his surroundings again, looking for new targets… understandably there were none left. Most of the enemies where hacked apart by sword's, unsurprising since there were possibly fourteen Orcs, each one in the fray wielding weapons that looked largely unwieldy, but highly damaging all the same. There was only one ATV and Kozlov was ensuring that he wasn't hitting any Horde member's with his stream of death, thus it wasn't surprising that Kozlov hadn't scored that many kills.
With the combat over, Kozlov retrieved his Carbine before jumping over the side.
"Tarasovich, Stepanovich, at attention. Eye's front and weapons shouldered… fall in!"
Tarasovich quickly got up from his prone position, before falling in behind Kozlov. Stephanovich opened the side door of the ATV before rushing back and standing tall. He had a pistol in his holster and a 'Zheleznyy Kulak' stretched out over his shoulder with the butt-stock extended.
The SF-981k PDW, affectionately named 'Iron Fist' as it was known in English was a very popular Personal Defence Weapon. Capable of firing 5.8x29mm round's at 1200rpm, she was only built to be fired in short, controlled bursts of two shots per finger-pull via a firing selector, though selecting full-auto was an option. If something went wrong and Kozlov was not able to draw his carbine for firing in time, he knew that he had the back of his soldiers to stop anything from getting to him.
Kozlov stood stock still, waiting for the Orc's to coming over to him, careful all the while to both maintain appearances but also making sure that nothing went wrong.
"General, your ear buds."
Kozlov couldn't believe how he had forgotten about the ear buds. He quickly tore them out and placed them in his pocket, their home.
It took a short while and some weird looks amongst the Orc's before Thrall came forth.
"As i have no doubt told you before, i am Thrall, son of Durotan. May i know who you are?"
Kozlov stood up straight and tall. "I am General Vadim Kozlov. I was a Cosmonaut and i served time in the Slavic Federation's military. I am the leader in charge of the Slavic Federation's seeding colony. Unfortunately for us, it seems this world isn't uninhabited."
Thrall stepped forward, and Tarasovich raised his weapon in response. Kozlov held his arm out to the soldier, and Tarasovich lowered his weapon in response.
"We are here, now. Let us speak of diplomacy, here."
Kozlov was surprised. Discussions were generally arranged in fancy gatherings, not out in the open right next to the corpses of centaurs.
"An odd place for diplomatic talks, but the need for talking is urgent…" Kozlov quickly cleared his voice and thought up of words to say. "In the effort of ensuring peaceful relations between our two peoples, let us offer a trade. The Slavic Federation will buy this land from you and all that surrounds within 400 square kilometres. In return you will leave us to ourselves. We shall not bother you, and you will not bother us. If you do not agree to these terms, i will have no choice but to take the land by force. List your price."
Thrall was shocked, the idea of selling off land that was his was insulting, yet the ability of the Humans was surprising indeed. Thrall saw the aftermath of what happened with that Gatling gun. The Alliance, particulatly the Dwarves kept that technology to themselves. Thrall wanted any weapon that could afford him an edge in a military campaign.
"Those weapons of yours, you will give them to us, and we will give you this land as your own."
Kozlov refused outright. "No, we do not trust anyone with our military technology besides ourselves. We have weapons so powerful that you could poison the lands for millions of years. Instead, i can promise to give you five percent of all mineral's and resources that we can extract and process in a year, for fifteen years. A large convoy train will be delivered to your capital every month, each one filled with valuable minerals. You can make your weapons of war that you need with our resources, but we will not send our death-weapons to you."
Garrosh took the opportunity to speak out. "Five percent, you are attempting to cheat us!"
Thrall calmed Garrosh down in the Orcish language.
Kozlov tried to disarm the situation. "Our extraction methods are extremely efficient, with an eighty-five percent turn-out rate for all extracted resources. If this is anything to go by, it is us getting cheated from this deal!"
Thrall took a moment to think for himself, before deciding on a course of action.
"I shall decide later. You will give us quarters amongst your people, i want to see how you run your people."
Kozlov had alarm bells ringing in his head. "I do not run these people, we are a Democratic Republic." Kozlov sighed for a moment. "You will have quarters arranged for you, though i would prefer that your men stay in their room's for the duration of our talks. I mean no offense but our people, until not too long ago thought that we were the only intelligent life-forms in the galaxy. If we shock them too much, you create panic. Panic is unnecessary when people have already risked life and limb to even be here, now."
Thrall simply nodded his head.
'Where should i start?' Thought Kozlov. He had no idea how things would play out, but he hoped that things would go well.
In hindsight, there were only a few things that could go wrong. If only... if only...