To Last Admiral: All of the action currently takes place from the A4's point of view.
United Nations Falmart Command Center / Camp Charlie
June 28th, 2013
Johnson sat on the steel chair, reading a paperback novel. Ironically, it was about a WW2-era infantry division being whisked off to a fantasy world. A few meters away, the Australian members of his squad were sitting on top of the M5 Assault armored personnel carrier, both also reading novels. Darris played a card game with Alexandra, while PFC Larry was reading one of his Vietnamese light novels while pacing around on the dirt ground. Military vehicles, such as main battle tanks or LAVs, surrounded them while the utilitarian white buildings provided a backdrop for the green paint of the vehicles to contrast against.
Johnson sighed while putting down his novel. What he would do to be at home and play on his computer...
Will anything ever happen here? thought Johnson. For the past few days, all Johnson and his squad did was just walk around and do nothing.
In the days after the Battle of Camp Charlie, nothing happened. Although there were attempts at a 'punitive expedition' and 'retaliation mission' by the remaining Imperial brigades in the area, these assaults would be destroyed in a massive show of force. The skirmishes had already claimed an additional 15,000 lives accompanied by 30,000 more wounded to tend to. The field surrounding the forward operating base was stained red with blood, even as the UN helicopters landed day and night to remove and identify bodies. For the ground infantry of the A4, they would have killed to do anything more than just sit on their asses and wait. Most of the assault attempts were destroyed by aerial units from miles away, not the infantry.
From the corner of his eye, Johnson saw someone walking towards him. It was none other than Lieutenant James Alan, his good friend in the United States Army. Alan had a rather oval-shaped head with a pointy chin and good jawline, attracting lots of unwanted attention sometimes. He was built like a man who followed a fitness routine, slim and a bit muscular, but he wasn't built like a man who had to rely on physical labor to obtain what he wanted.
"Johnson," Alan spoke in a low voice which just seemed to demand attention from everyone around him.
"Yeah-" As Johnson prepared to speak to Alan, a loud set of thunderous footsteps behind him caught his attention.
Johnson turned around him and saw Colonel Jason Williams, commander of the 101st Cavalry Regiment. John had a smooth face topped with messy dark hair, with the scars on it screaming that he had served. His dark green uniform was adorned with a couple of medals, ribbons, and pins, each shining with distinction.
Johnson immediately straightened his back and stood upright.
"Colonel Williams," said Johnson. A salute was soon delivered from him.
"Sergeant Johnson. At ease," replied Williams.
Johnson relaxed himself a little and began listening intently to what the General had to say.
"Sergeant Johnson, you have a mission."
Williams pulled out a few pieces of paper, each displaying a map of the Falmartian continent, while the Gate was marked in dark red, with enemy formations, or what had been enemy formations, marked with large 'X's.
"Simply put, we are going to send several reconnaissance teams into the continent. As you are one of the only soldiers through the Gate so far with scouting and reconnaissance training, you are to lead Recon Team 6. You are to be tasked with exploring the areas around the city of Bellnahgo and Rondel, roughly 75 and 100 miles northeast. Our intelligence also suggests that an Imperial Army garrison has holed up in Bellnahgo. You will be expected to explore and find a safe route to the city, so our forces can link up and destroy the enemy. Any questions?"
"None, sir."
Finally some fucking action, thought Johnson as he absorbed the information the General had presented to him.
"Good. Report to the armory at 1200 for…" The Colonel paused for a brief second, then continued on, "supplies." stated the Colonel. He walked off after he was done speaking, leaving Johnson and Alan alone.
"That's what I was going to tell you about," said Alan.
"Alan, do you know what he means by supplies? The way he said it seemed… off… to me…"
"Your squad is going to be very happy in the next few hours," replied Alan.
Imperial Senate
June 28th, 2013
"If we continue this war, the Empire will perish," said Senator Casel, standing in the middle of the marble floor.
Several pro-peace senators in the room nodded their heads at that, while the pro-war senators shook their heads.
"And you prefer us to surrender? They'll rape and pillage us! You are no better than them!" roared a bald, pudgy Senator from across the room.
"You saw how both of these countries wiped out the Allied Kingdoms and Imperial Army! If we don't surrender we will be completely annihilated!"
"They will annihilate us either way! Better we fight on our feet than die on our knees!"
Casel continued to stand there, not yielding to the arguments thrown from the pro-war faction.
Shouts reverberated across the room, directed on the Senator who suggested surrender.
On the other side of the room, Emperor Molt sat in his ornate throne, flanked on each side by 2 guards carrying spears. Around the room, several rows of seats encompassed the area in a circular formation, with each seat being occupied by men dressed in elegant robes, displaying their wealth.
"Silence!" yelled Emperor Molt.
Molt closed his eyes and shook his head, disappointed with the constant arguments in the Senate. Molt and the Senators had been in the building for nearly 2 hours, yet no resolution to the current problem was proposed at all.
All across the room, the Senate stopped speaking, some startled by the abrupt roar.
Molt looked at Casel and began pondering.
What can I do to stop these stupid dogs from arguing?
A metaphorical lightbulb lit up in Molt's head as he thought of a solution.
"Senators, Sadera shall not yield! For nearly 700 years we have stood strong. The war is not lost!" yelled Molt.
Several of the Senators nodded, while others simply rolled their eyes, albeit discreetly. After all, the Emperor could make people disappear on a whim.
"Of course, you all remember the fable of the Battle of Corian?"
"We held firm against the Totians, despite losing nearly 7 legions in that battle! When it seemed that all hope was lost, the Imperial Army smashed the Totians at Corian, just a mere day away from the Capital!"
"We shall do the same here. The Empire lives on forever!"
The Senate cheered at that, some praising the Emperor for his intelligence. Of course, Molt knew they were usually the brainwashed ones, the ones who had fed into the indoctrination.
But of course, the Totians did not have flying metal beasts and magic staffs… thought Molt.
CLASSIFIED LOCATION, NATIONALIST CONFEDERATION OF CHINA*
June 29th, 2013
Several generals walked into the labyrinth, escorted by armed guards every step they took. The room itself was rather dull, with grey paint slathered over most of the walls, while portraits of previous Chinese leaders hung on the walls. A large rectangular table occupied the space in the middle of the room, while several seats were occupied by Chinese political and military leaders. At the back of the room, a steel bullet-proof door was flanked on each side by 2 armed guards, each carrying automatic rifles.
A large screen displaying pictures of the "GATE" complex was placed directly in front of the table, placed in a way so that all of the ministers sitting could view the screen.
"Great. Now that everyone is here, we shall begin the meeting," spoke a rat-faced individual on the left side of the table. His uniform and hat were a dull green, similar to our own North Korean uniforms, while medals and pins decorated the upper left of his clothes.
"I assume all of you know about the Gate complex?"
All the generals and politicians in the room nodded.
"Good. I will get straight to the point now."
The man shuffled some papers in front of him until he found his desired one. His eyes scanned over the paper for a few seconds, then he began reading off of it.
"Our intelligence states that the Americans have sent nearly a whole division into the Gate, along with a UN regiment. India has also sent forces through the Gate, but we do not know their exact numbers. With the Westerners distracted, I propose that we initiate Operation Dragon Fury."
Several generals gave expressions of confusion at this, while the political leaders nodded. After a few seconds, someone spoke up.
"Glorious Leader, I do not think this is a good idea. Our biological weapons are still in their testing phases and are not ready to be deployed. Additionally, the Americans have increased their alertness, meaning that any attack could be foiled before it begins. We do not want to end up like Stettin either."
Glorious Leader Zhang began to think for a moment, absorbing the Marshal's words.
He is correct, our bio-weapons are not ready to be deployed yet.
"General, you bring up a fair point. But, we cannot let this opportunity pass through our hands. The whole world is distracted with the Gate."
At that point, War Minister Xi Wei chimed in. His low voice rattled across the room, capturing the attention of everyone.
"Perhaps, we can exploit the Gate for our own uses. China is getting overcrowded, after all."
"And how are we supposed to do that, Minister? The Gate is located in the heart of our greatest enemy! We can't exactly just send an invasion force to New Yo-" yelled Field Marshal Jinping from across the table.
The Glorious Leader put his hand, palm facing towards the Marshal, indicating to him that he should shut up.
"Just because we cannot send an invasion force does not mean that it is undoable."
"How so, Glorious Leader?"
The Leader once again reached for a sheet of paper on the table.
"We can have our agents in the country within 24 hours. They're already in Hong Kong."
"And what are the agents supposed to do, Leader?"
Zhang grinned for a moment, as he browsed through the paper before him.
"Our strike teams can seize control of the Gate and perhaps we can, say, strike a deal with the Americans. The Americans will give us control of the Gate, and we shall send a million citizens through the Gate each year. We need living space for our people, and this is the best option. A new world, filled to the brim with resources!"
Several politicians in the room applauded the Leader's great intelligence, while several military officials began discussing with one another, albeit in hushed, quiet tones. The only military official who didn't do that was Jinping.
"Leader, respectfully, ARE YOU CRAZY!?" yelled Jinping, his face red and voice strained.
"If we send strike teams into New York, the Americans will glass us! This is a suicide mission!" Panic was present in the otherwise stoic man's voice.
"I have already decided, Marshal. If it makes you feel better, they are to simply report and observe for a few weeks. Then, we move in. If anything unforeseen happens, the mission will be called off."
"Sir, you are a madman! You will be responsible for the death of China!"
Glorious Leader Zhang continued glancing at the red-faced Jinping, pondering on what he was to do with the rebellious Marshal.
This fool has obviously been brainwashed by Western propaganda…
"Guards!" yelled Zhang.
The two stone-faced guards in the room immediately saluted and asked the Leader what he wanted.
"Send this pig to the Re-education room," ordered Zhang.
Right after he said that the two guards began walking over to Jinping.
"NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
His pleads were ignored, as the guards walked over to his chair.
"YOU ARE A MADMA-"
The buttstock of a rifle collided with Jinping's face, knocking him out cold. Jinping saw stars for a moment, then blackness. His body slumped onto the floor, as the two guards began carrying it out.
All of the gentlemen in the room stayed silent as they saw one of their comrades being dragged down to Hell. Eventually, the silence was broken by Zhang.
"Now, we shall continue."
Zorzal's Palace
Date Unknown
Mary walked down the hallway, her face gone white as she returned from Zorzal's room. The last hour had been hell on Earth for her. Nevertheless, she remained strong. She was raised as a fighter, after all.
Dark purple bruises decorated her body, as if they were patches, while pain radiated throughout her body. Tendrils of pain snaked around her body, sending fiery signals of pain to her nerves. Her brown, curly hair was now just a mop of brown strands, while her thin face was accompanied by a black eye. She was escorted by a guard in solid armor, his cold eyes constantly glaring at Mary's body, unnerving her.
At the end of the stone hallway, she saw a locked cage-style door and could see the dark silhouettes of various other figures through it. After a few seconds of walking, they reached the door, and she could clearly make out a woman with bunny ears on her staring back.
What the hell…
The guard behind her yelled something incomprehensible and shoved her into the room. Mary stumbled as he did, almost tripping, until the woman with bunny ears stopped her fall.
His grip tightened around the door's handle, and he slammed it behind him with a loud clang, ringing Mary's ears.
Mary looked at the bunny-woman who had stopped her fall.
"Who-who are you?"
The bunny-woman gave a look of confusion to her. For several minutes, Mary tried to communicate with the bunny-woman, albeit with no success. Tired, Mary walked to the edge of the room and proceeded to sit down on a rock bench. It was rather dark in the dungeon, with the only lighting provided by the torches in the hallway, which traveled through the large slits in the gate.
Mary sat down for a moment, only to feel a hand instead of the hard rock she was expecting. She turned her head and saw an Asian-looking woman with dark hair, so dark that it could even be mistaken for dark blue.
"Oh, sorry…" said Mary, almost on instinct.
The Japanese woman looked up at her, with a blank face. Like Mary, bruises and cuts were present on her arms and face, while fluids she dared not think about stained her rags. After several awkward seconds of silence, the Japanese woman talked.
"Are you an American?" asked the Japanese woman in accented English.
"Yes, I am. Where are you from?"
"Japan."
UN Falmart Command Center
Johnson glanced over his reconnaissance team, additionally examining the armored vehicles and Humvees that sat in the motor pool before him. The members of his squad were currently placing crates of ammunition and rockets into the one APC they had, while the Humvee crews metronomically loaded their M2 Browning machine guns. The dark green camouflage of the intricate vehicles contrasted substantially against the white tents and buildings behind them.
"Sergeant!" yelled a low voice to his right.
Johnson turned to his right, intent on finding the source of the noise. He was met with a man in military combat fatigues glancing at him.
"Lieutenant Alan."
"You forgot this," replied Alan, smirking as he did so. He plopped a heavy bag onto the ground in front him, while the contents inside clattered and clashed with one another.
Johnson picked up the bag, examining it. The bag itself was made out of brown linen and weighed very heavily in Johnson's hands.
"Why's this so heavy?"
"Because they're gold coins."
"What do we need gold coins for?"
"High command wants you to bribe the locals if needed. They should also be helpful if you're in a sticky situation."
"Well, gee, thanks." There was a hint of uneasiness in Johnson's voice, given that the last time he was trusted with money, he nearly blew 5000 dollars out of his bank account.
"You're welcome," replied Alan in a dismissive, uncaring voice. Alan proceeded to trek out of the motor pool, ignoring the rest of his squad.
What the hell...
"Sergeant, we've loaded the last of the rockets!" A sharp yell to Johnson's left had caught his attention. It was none other than Private Alberts, standing inside of the armored personnel carrier, gripping his rocket launcher.
"Sergeant, respectfully, why do we need to bring rocket launchers on a recon mission?" inquired the Australian, Irving from Alberts' side.
"Colonel Williams told me that high command wanted the troops to be armed to the teeth on this mission. The other recon teams are bringing along anti-tank launchers."
"Why? Are flying tanks gonna attack us or something?" Visible confusion was in Irving's voice.
"I don't fucking know. What the brass decides is what the brass decides."
Irving simply sighed.
* - China in the A4 world is a giant North Korea-esque state, and for the past few years, they have been trying to manufacture a biological weapon to kill all non-Han Chinese people. Of course, if it works is a different story.