A Brits, a Yankee, a French and a Hun in Gallia
To say that Gregor was pissed was an understatement. His Gulag camp had been targeted heavily by the Gallian and Allied forces. As a matter of fact, he was communicating to one of the many squads fighting the Western Allies forces.
« Kak obstoyat dela na vostoke? (How's the situation in the east?) » he asked the local sergeant in the eastern area of the city. «Chto zh, yesli chestno, eto khuynya, ser. Eto snova Tannenberg. Khotya mogu ya vas poprosit' ne pokonchit' s soboy, ser? (Well if I have to be honest it's a clusterfuck, sir. It's Tannenberg all over again. Although may I ask you not to commit suicide sir?) » the sergeant responded with brutal honesty while dodging some bullets.
« Eto vozmutitel'no s vashey storony. YA by ne pokonchil zhizn' samoubiystvom iz-za prostogo porazheniya! (This is outrageous of you to say. I would not commit suicide for a simple defeat!) » Gregor shot back, while putting his ZM34 back in its holder, and contacting another position.
« Members of the Spanish Republican Army in Exile. What is your status? » he asked. « THEY EXPECTED US! THEY EXPECTED ALL OF US! DIOS MIO! (MY GOD!) » the Spanish screamed as he ran from Gurkha soldiers wielding Kukri. « GET BACK HERE AND FIGHT A GURKHA! » one of the soldiers shouted as he chased the Spanish around.
Gregor closed the phone and simply took another call at another location. « Members of the Mongolian People's Army, we require immediate support. » he said serious. « Yes sir, you just need to wait a moment, we're currently CARRYING YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASSES HERE IN TSAROGRAD! » the Mongol sergeant responded with sarcasm as he dodged a few bullets.
Jumping back at the angry response of the Mongolian, Gregor put down the phone and called another number. « Polish 1st Army? » he asked with an apogeic tone. « Wait seriously?! I can't believe you guys thought we were going to help you! » the Polish soldier exclaimed, followed by the thunderous laughter's of his companions, alongside several Czech soldiers.
«That's for the Katyn massacre, you schmuck! » another soldier exclaimed. « POLOKS! » Gregor shouted angrily as he slammed the phone on the table, only to make another call. « Balkan meat shi-I meant comrades, what's the status? » he asked.
Three soldiers, a Hungarian, a Romanian and a Bulgaria were standing near a fire. The Hungarian was holding a cup, the Romanian looked disappointed and the Bulgarian was shaking. « Go on. Tell him what happened corporal. » the Hungarian said in a scolding tone.
« I brought the wrong tank. » the Bulgarian said with a sad tone. « Yes. You brought a Vickers 6-Ton against the might of the Allied forces, didn't you? » the Hungarian said. « Sorry sergeant. » was all the Bulgarian said.
« Yeah "sorry" doesn't kill Shermans, and neither does a 3-pounder of pop gun as it turns out. But the Corporal had a good idea. Tell him the good idea corporal! » the Romanian then said. « Reverse. I tried to reverse. » the Bulgarian responded.
« Uuuhhh reverse! And how did that go on a British tank? » the Hungarian said. « Not great sergeant. » the Bulgarian said. « We're meant to defend Fouzen with that! After we already invaded it. » the Romanian said.
Both then sighed. « Well here we go. » the Romanian then said as he raised his hands in surrender. Their position had been overrun by Allied Forces.
« Chestno govorya, uchityvaya to, chto oni sdelali s Balkanami v proshlyy raz ... da, my eto zasluzhili. (Honestly considering what they did to the Balkans last time...yeah we deserve that.) » Gregor sighed in defeat as he made another call.
« Vietnamese army. Status report. » he then said. A few minutes passed. « Vietnamese army? » he asked again. On the other side of the phone were the burned-out corpses of the Vietnamese, burned to a crisp by incessant napalm bombardments.
« Navernoye, sledovalo skazat' sovetskomu komandovaniyu, chto v Gallii net dzhungley. (Probably should have told Soviet high command that there are no jungles in Gallia.) » he said pale in an awkward tone.
« Yugoslav air force. We require aerial support. » he then said. « Sorry, but it appears we're quite…grounded sir. » was the Yugoslav response. « How did that happen? » Gregor said disappointed.
« Well it's kind of a funny story, really. First thing I remember is being in the air, then the predictable happened, the capitalistic pigs spawned above us, and put a hole on our left wing of all places. I was hoping my bomber rear gunner would fulfil his duty, but he was shot unconscious by the bourgeoise. Then the fire broke out and was forced to jump out after 10 seconds. That's when these fellas caught up with us. » he said, as he raised his hands to the Gallian forces.
« Pochemu my sdelali stavku imenno na partizan? (Why did we rely on the partisans exactly?) » he asked more disappointed in himself more than anything. He was to pick up his phone again, but had second thoughts.
« Nea. Yesli by mne ponadobilis' golodayushchiye soldaty, ya by vyzval podkrepleniye iz Sibiri. (Nah. If I needed starving soldiers, I would had called reinforcements from Siberia.) » he said with a smirk.
He then made another call. « Hello, Chilean army? » he said. « Sorry sir, I'm afraid you're a bit late. We're no longer communists I'm afraid. » the Chilean soldier said. « Could had make an announcement. » Gregor said irritated, before putting the phone back, only to receive a call.
«Zdravstvuyte. General Gregor zdes'. (Hello, general Gregor here.) » he said. « Good morning Fouzen. It is another beeeautiful day in the liberated state of Old Amsterdam, and we will hit you with the latest in sports. Well last night, the slought supersonic DESTROYED the Stokke Badgers in that game you're all just learning about, baseball. » an American voice said.
« I really need to get my number changed. » Gregor said, as he put the phone down. He then massaged his temples in an attempt to calm down. «Chert. Pyatiletniy plan ne gotov k takoy situatsii. (Damn it. The five years plan doesn't prepare for situation like these.) » he said worried.
« Ha! You call this hard? We call this a Difficulty Tweak! » a voice came from the main door of the room, coming from a Chinese man in Communist China uniform. Gregor looked perplexed at the guy, raising an eyebrow.
« I'm sorry, and you are? » Gregor asked confused. « Official name Lu Chin, lieutenant of the 31st Infantry Regiment, known by the Japanese as… "The Commie Motherfucker." » Lu responded. Gregor simply remained silent at the situation.
« Chert voz'mi, ya slishkom trezv dlya etogo. (God damn it I'm too sober for this.) » Gregor commented. « So, heard that you Ruskies are having problems dealing with the Capitalist pigs. » Lu said.
Gregor simply sighed. « indeed. Fouzen has been attacked from multiple angles. This is Tannenberg all over again. » Gregor admitted. « Not to worry. Our troops are the elite of the elite. We have defeated the Japanese in several occasions. These capitalist bastards won't take Fouzen! » Lu exclaimed.
« Indeed. And I do believe that it is my time to shine in this battle as well. » Gregor smiled, as he raised from his desk.
Inside the city itself, Imperial and Soviet forces searched fanatically for the enemy, which seemed to have entered after a bloody battle. Little did they know, that their designated targets were right beside them, hidden thanks to a fiendish camouflage…a bunch of bushes and plants on their tanks.
« I can't believe this actually worked. » Rosie commented. « [I can't believe that the author hasn't completely forgot about us.] » Squire then said. « Well it did work against the Japanese. » Bill noted.
« Yeah. In the freaking Pacific! » Welkin exclaimed. « Well at the very least our efforts are perfectly supported by the air force. » Squire commented, as he watched a squadron of Firebrand TF Mk IV, alongside a squadron of Bf 109 G-14 and a squadron of Ki-49.
« Commander Cole here, with eyes on the enemy guns. » the commander of the Firebrand squadron said to the radio, as he and his squadron aimed at several artillery positions, holding deadly 305 mm howitzer M1939 (Br-18).
« Commander Poldi here to give you support. » the Bf 109 G-14 squadron commander said. « Well as long as you give us better air cover than you did at the battle of Britain. Anyway, no time to talk, we need to survive the onslaught of their 305 mm cannons. » Cole said, as he descended down against the artillery positions.
Truly, it turned into a massacre for the Firebrand, several being picked off by the Imperial artillery and anti-aircraft guns. Truly, they had learned from their past mistakes. After many lost Firebrand, the air formation finally managed to drop their load, only to destroy one of the guns.
« Excellent work gentlemen. » Cole declared. « You lost half of your squadron and destroyed a single Imperial gun! How is this an excellent work!? » Poldi exclaimed shocked. « Hey! That was an extremely hard manoeuvre to pull. And those guns were built to last! Also there were so few of them none were captured by you guys during Barbarossa. » Cole commented.
Suddenly, one of the remaining Firebrand was shot down, taking fire in the process. « Huh. So that's why they call it Firebrand. » Cole commented. « Squadriglia Sovietica alla nostra sinistra. (Soviet Squadron on our left.) » one of the G-14 pilots said.
« Wait a minute. Italians? Flying Bf 109? » Cole asked. « We REALLY needed more men in the Luftwaffe. » Poldi commented. Attacking the squad was a squadron of I-185 (M-71). It would look like the air force would be quite distracted.
« Well this was as efficient as a North Korean nuclear missile. » Squire commented. « Doesn't help that it has the weight and manoeuvrability of an American plane combined with the engine power and payload of a British plane. » Hans joked.
« Well at least it is flying. Unlike the Luftwaffe. » Bill responded. « Say, all this gore and ferocious fighting caused me to forget what was our objective. » Squire commented. « Capturing the city? » Welkin answered, a bit hesitant, before noticing one of the men of the Jew Attack Force 1, it's captain, literally dropkicked two Imperials, ripping their heads off, and continuing the momentum until he hit a door of what seemed to be a hangar, shattering it.
The group remained in silence at the scene. « So we support the Jews in Palestine, right? » Brian said as he watched the scene. « It appears so. Could be useful against the Egyptians. » Squire responded.
« Really? Putting Jews in Palestine? You do realize that it was, and still is, inhabited by Arabs for centuries, right? » Hans asked with disgust. « Still better than putting them in a concentration camp. » Mikhail commented.
« Speaking of concentration camps… » Bill then said, as he looked inside the hangar, containing several Darcsens, shivering and hungry. Our group entered the building, their faces grim at the sight. Even Rosie seemed disturbed by the scene.
« Bullocks… » was all Squire said at the scene. « This is… » he then said with a grim tone, only to return to his slightly cheerful tone slightly later. «…not nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. ».
Alicia widened her eyes in shock. « How could you say something like that!? Look at them! They're kept in inhuman conditions! » she exclaimed angrily. Brian then showed her a picture, and she calmed down. However, her eyes were wide open and she dropped her rifle.
« On second thoughts…...yeah this isn't that bad…. » Alicia commented. Hans, on the other hand, was completely livid, but managed to keep his cool for a few seconds. « I'm sorry. I need to inspect the area nearby. Won't take longer than a minute. » he said containing his anger.
Once he exited, it didn't take long for our group to hear his voice. « Ah hello my inhuman Russian filth. Nice day to enslave the proud German people, right? » Hans then said. « Wait who the Blyat are you- » an Imperial or Soviet said before a gunshot and a cry of pain was heard.
« So? What's the plan for German extermination now, you undesirable piece of garbage? » Hans asked. « My Suka pleaser! » was the Imperial/Soviet response. « No one messes with the fatherland, Bolshevik bastard! » Hans exclaimed, before more gunshots were heard.
Hans returned inside the hangar, partially bloody. « You know, you're kind of a monster. » Isara glared at the German, before rising her thumbs up. « And I like you as a friend for that. » she then continued.
« Would you like to participate in a summary execution later? » Hans proposed the girl. « Can I!? » Isara eyes glow in happiness and her voice was excited. « No. » Welkin then said in a serious tone. « Aw. » was Isara response.
« Soo…are you psychos the guys who are supposed to help us kill Gregor and liberate our people and the town? » one of the Darcsen inside of the hangar said. « Well we're still in service in the army, so I would not call myself a psycho really. » Squire commented.
« I'm Luitenant Welkin Gunther of the Gallian Landmacht. We had received news that there was a Gallian sympathizer here. » Welkin explained. « Well I'm your guy. The name is Zaka. Pleasure to meet you. » the man, Zaka, greeted Welkin.
« So, let's get started. » Welkin then said.
In a nearby room, Zaka showed our heroes a map of the Fouzen area. « As you can see, Fouzen factories are located on the canyon's edge, split between an upper and lower floor. » Zaka explained. He then pointed at a corner of the map.
« There's an armoured train that services those factories. It moves on rails built into the upper levels, shotting downward. » Zaka then said. « If it's up there, it's completely out of our range. How do we attack it? » Welkin wondered.
« Why don't we just bomb the ever livin shit out of it? » Brian suggested. « Well let's just say that unlike in 1944 the air space isn't uncontested. » Bill said, almost knowing that outside there was a huge battle raging in the skies.
Then, the sound of a plane siren crashing was heard. « Oh, bullocks. That looked like a Stuka for me. [Or one of the plethora of planes in the fanfiction with an inaccurate sound design.] » Squire commented.
« I was on the verge of abandoning my plan when I discovered about aircraft on your side, but the arrival of Russian planes changed everything. Anyway, we will use this. » Zaka said as he pulled out a rectangular object.
« It's a ragnite bomb. I made it myself from spare parts I snuck from the Imperials. » Zaka said. « Dlaczego to tak bardzo przypomina Powstanie Warszawskie? (Why does this sound so much like the Warsaw Uprising?) » Mikhail commented.
« So that little thing can blow up a train? » Largo asked doubtful. « Of course not. You will use it here. » Zaka then said, pointing at a location in the map, a railway juncture. « Should have called paratroopers for this. » Brian grumbled.
« Leave the bomb setting to me. All I need is a distraction so I can get there and attach the package on a strut. Once I wired it and gotten a safe distance away, I'll give you a signal and you'll detonate it, destroying the bridge. » Zaka continued.
« Well as long as it doesn't end up like Burma, because I'm not going to spent the rest of this war, trapped in a Siberian Gulag, digging coal in poor working conditions and beaten by Imperial guards every now and then. » Squire said.
At dawn, Squad 7 begun to move out for their mission against Fouzen armoured train. But focused on their objective, none had noticed that they were being watched.
A small line in the sky had begun to form at random, moving at an incredibly slow pace, and Isara was quick to notice. « Uh ... Welks? Is dat een artilleriegranaat in de lucht? (Uh...Welks? Is that an artillery shell in the air?) » she asked concerned.
Welkin noticed it too, but was far less worried. « Nee, artilleriegranaten worden veel sneller afgevuurd dan dat. Het moet een Brits squadron zijn of zoiets. (Nah, artillery shells are fired much faster than that. It must be a British squadron or something.) » he reassured the girl, right before a shell hit the area next to our protagonists. « Hello vermin cheese fuckers! » Gregor exclaimed from his megaphone from his armoured train.
« Bullocks! A dastardly surprise attack by the Soviets! » Squire exclaimed. « Mai gawd It's the battle of the Bulge all over again! » Brian exclaimed in a panic. « How did they even know that we were going to attack them there!? » Rosie exclaimed as she took cover.
(Payday 2 Razormind starts playing from 1:41)
Suddenly, a sharp, high pitch noise was heard by our heroes, and it was getting closer and closer. « Wait. What's that noise- » Alicia said, before being dropkicked by a Chinese man in a black uniform, who slammed her against a wall with incredible strength and started beating her with a club.
« Now stay on the ground, and cry like a little capitalistic bitch! » the man, Lu, exclaimed as he continued to beat down the Gallian, until the commander of the Jew Attack Force 1 arrived, kicking Lu back, only for him to perform several backflips. He then proceed to grab a steel bar and charged at the Jewish commander, who simply blocked all attacks with his rifles.
« [Huh. Shocker. Dragon Ball Z style fights in a Valkyria Chronicles Fanfiction.] » Bill commented. « [What's next!? Karl Franz and Mazdamundi fighting Soviet allied Greenskins!?] » Squire shouted, before a massive WAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH was heard in the distance, followed by a Mooo sound and a random « Summon the elector counts! ».
« [That's it. This chapter is getting a negative review!] » Squire exclaimed, as he begun writing down his review. « Well this is just great. The Imperials are sending the Muunokhoi against us! » Welkin complained.
« The Muu-what? » Brian asked confused.
Meanwhile, down in the lower portions of the city, the Muunokhoi begun their charge against the Gallians. « Oi, ya chisy-humie gitz! Hav sum REAL DAKKA! » one of the Muunokhoi exclaimed as he fired at random locations with his machine gun.
Soon, all the Muunokhoi begun to swarm the place, yelling WAAARRGGGHHH and Dakka Dakka Dakka at any occasion. « [Ok, who invited the 40K cast in this Fanfiction!?] » Magz exclaimed as he bombed the enemy positions with his Sunderland.
As the battle become more and more serious, more planes and more Gallian troops arrived, including Squad 1. « Sooo…...mind explain me what the hell are those things? » Gerhard said as he watched the Muunokhoi charging and shooting at everything.
« Muunokhoi. Also better known as Orks. They live in the Great Steppe region, and have terrorized Central Asia and portions of Europa for centuries. They are violent, ferocious, know nothing but warfare and recently become a protectorate of the Empire as long as, and I quote, "get to participate in any war the Empire fights." » Faldio explained the German.
Will our heroes manage to liberate Fouzen and the Darcsens inside? Or will they perish from the might of the Empire and ferocity of the Orks? But most importantly, will the author manage to keep a normal production line?
I sincerely appreciate the support of "K" and .gaming for several of the phrases in the fanfiction. I also appreciate the support of FreeWar, GJO1088, Dandaman5, UN Peacekeeper and Sgt117 for their various suggestions in the Fanfiction, you're all wonderful people.
I do not own either Valkyria Chronicles, Squire, Lord Scatsbury, Life of Boris, Phlydaily, Sovietwomble, theOrangeDoom and MagzTV. Please support both the original game and these magnificent youtubers.
Also make sure to check out chankljp "The Twilight of an Empire: Valkyria Chronicles 1958 Cold War." I used several of his setting and names in the Fanfiction.
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please review so I can learn your opinion. I'm willing to accept suggestions, so stay tuned. Also remember to like and follow. I would also appreciate if you also supported my other Fanfiction, Second Universe Tales: Universalia Fight Club (the remake).
See you on the next chapter!
