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Chapter 4: The battle for Cheboksary, (part one)
The only sounds in the transport were the low-pitched hum of the engine and the occasional cough from seated soldiers, other then this however; silence prevailed. Everyone was too concerned with his or her own nervousness, or in the case of many of the newer officers, their own sense of an impending, untimely death.
The soldier sitting next to Adish was sitting next to fell into the second category. He was a young looking male, his skin had turned hideously pale and he was bent over to face the floor and breathing heavily, as if he was about to throw up.
Adish didn't recognise him, thereby making him a member of either the 023 platoon or the 103 platoon, both of which were riding the transport with the 045 platoon into Cheboksary. The terrified appearance of the youngster suggested that this was his first outing. He was presumably a replacement for someone who had been killed in the line of duty.
"This is the hard part." Adish said, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder, "Once you get outside you'll feel a lot better."
The pale soldier stared at Adish for a few seconds, he seemed irritated more then anything else at the fact that he was receiving advice, and that his fear was so apparent.
"Yes sir." He replied, revealing a German accent, it seemed to be the only thing he could say.
Adish removed his hand from the kid's shoulder and returned to his own, slightly more composed gazing at the floor.
"Do y-you think w-we'll win sir?" The soldier stuttered suddenly. The idea of speaking to superior officer, (even one who was the same rank as him and barely had any seniority), seemed to terrify him as much as the idea of getting shot.
Adish suppressed the urge to grin and simply stared at the young corporal for a few moments.
"Would you like me to peer into the future and see what happens?" he said finally, "Or would you like me to lie to you? You can't predict these things kid. You go out there, you shoot things and you try not to get shot."
"Yes sir." This reply was virtually a squeak.
"All hands be advised." The loud, metallic voice from the transport's loudspeaker made more then one person flinch, "We land in approximately ten minutes. That is all."
The pale corporal shuddered at these words and clutched his hands tighter around the weapon in his hands.
"I always wanted to visit Russia." Adish said suddenly, hoping to distract the corporal from his jitters.
Against the odds, the absurdity of this statement resulted in a nervous grin from the corporal.
"If you don't mind me asking sir," His voice had regained trace elements of composure, but was still flooded with fear, "Why did you join up?"
Adish wondered briefly whether the kid was generally interested or just wanted to distract himself with whatever he could find.
"Why does anyone?" He paused slightly and tried to think of a suitable answer, "Revenge." He said finally
The corporal was silent for a few minutes, he didn't know whether or not he had struck a nerve by asking this question, but he decided that he should avoid pursuing the conversation topic any further then he had to.
Adish was silent for a long while. Unlike many of the Human soldiers of the New Order, he hadn't lost anyone to the 'Desperate smattering of racists'. His hatred had sprung from stories, news reports and childhood memories of seeing A.I's being abused in the streets. He had joined so as to strike back at the cruelty that had tormented his friends for so long, that had caused the oppression of an entire species, that was holding back the world. He didn't feel much like explaining this to the questioner however so he kept his answer at 'revenge'.
"What about you corporal…?"
"Kier sir, Corporal Anshelm Kier." He paused slightly, his fear seemed, partially, to give way to anger, "I'm here because…" he paused; he looked like he was going to start crying and start punching the wall.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to Corporal."
"No." The response to this was louder and harsher then Kier had intended; several heads turned to stare at him. "No it helps to talk about this, get it off my chest. And I don't suppose I can start hording pain now."
Adish nodded and turned in his seat to face Kier.
"I'm here, I'm here because my son, and, Gre-, and most of my family were killed by them." He gestured at the door with a flick of his head. Adish couldn't help but feel a flicker of surprise, the corporal looked 19 at best. Then again, he thought, stranger things have happened.
"When the war started, me, my girlfriend, our son and our families tried to get to a quieter place, somewhere that wouldn't be affected by the war, or as badly affected as Germany was likely to be."
"Sweden?" (Sweden had declared itself independent and neutral in the war.)
"Yes sir, anyway, The A.O.H," he paused and hissed breath through his teeth after mentioning their name, "They claimed not to care about people leaving the country to protect their families. They might even have been telling the truth. All I remember is two people, one man, and one woman. They wore the racist's uniforms, burst into the house, we were all there, talking about what we'd do once we got over the border. Anyway, they say they were conducting a search for any remaining A.I's. My father tried to get rid of them, they." He paused again, "They. They fired." There was another, longer silence. "Me and my mother were the only one's that survived.
A wave of hate rushed through Adish and everyone who had been eavesdropping. It was hardly uncommon to hear of A.O.H soldiers taking pot shots at defenceless civilians, they usually did it for target practice, but hearing such tales never failed to bring forth bloodlust in human New Order marines.
"I'm sorry." Adish said after a few moments. Kier nodded and wiped his eyes of the tears that the memory had brought forth.
Everyone who was paying attention, as well as those that weren't, were distracted suddenly by a sudden jolt. The transport had landed.
"That was never ten minutes." Adish recognised the voice as Azami's
He reached forth and placed his hand on Kier's shoulder once more.
"How does the thought of vengeance sound Kier?"
Kier stared at Adish for a few moments; his nervousness was gone, replaced by an unwavering hatred and desire to kill every enemy he saw.
"Vengeance sounds pretty fucking good sir."
"All hands," The voice of the A.I transport boomed again, "ready weapons and prepare to enter the battle zone."
"All right people!" The voice of Captain Sebastian Hackett boomed suddenly, "This is it. Remember what you've been taught, keep your head down, and keep your head screwed on. You've all been selected for this mission because you can all walk away in triumph when it is over. Let's show these pathetic shits the true meaning of death!"
A cheer went up from the assembled platoons, and everyone clutched their weapons close to them and turned to face the door.
The door opened in almost an instant with a quiet hiss. The soldiers within the transport charged onto the reasonably flat field.
Sentinels were whizzing overhead, already descending upon the line of gun turrets that were assembled in a line that covered Cheboksary's border. Most of these guns were concentrating on sentinels, thereby allowing the humans to get close with less chance of getting shot. It was the same strategy that had been used in many past engagements, and one that usually worked.
Adish noticed corporal Kier charging towards the line of guns. His face, what he could see of it, showed a scream of rage and bloodlust, an unshakable will to destroy the enemy.
And then it was gone.
One of the gun turrets had lowered and was now taking pot shots at the line of advancing humans and humanoid machine soldiers from other transports. Adish instantly threw himself to the floor, but not before noticing a bullet punch straight through Kier's chest.
Blood, bone, tissue and shredded organs shot out of Kier's back before he fell backwards onto the floor. Panic and concern surged in Adish, but this was soon replaced by experience and remembered training.
He edged his way across the grass to where Kier was lying, face pointed towards the stars, he was still alive, he was using what fading strength he had to resist the urge to scream.
"Kier!" Adish shouted over the noise as he pulled himself alongside his fallen comrade.
"How bad is it?" Kier gurgled.
"Bad." Adish said after a few seconds.
Kier nodded and let loose a scream which was blanked out by the noise of the battlefield.
"I'm dying."
"Bullshit, you're going…"
"I'm going to see my son sir," Kier's voice became light, as if the weight of the world had been taken off of his shoulders, "I'm going to see him, Greta, my father, all of…"
Kier let out one last heavy breath before his head fell sideways, and his life left him.
Adish stared at the corpse for a second. He found he couldn't think straight. This passed soon however as he remembered the enemy behind him. Renewed hatred stirred within Adish. After closing Kier's eyes with one hand, and deploying a fatality notification beacon so that his body could be recovered, he pulled himself up and charged at Cheboksary.
To be continued.
Chapter 4: The battle for Cheboksary, (part one)
The only sounds in the transport were the low-pitched hum of the engine and the occasional cough from seated soldiers, other then this however; silence prevailed. Everyone was too concerned with his or her own nervousness, or in the case of many of the newer officers, their own sense of an impending, untimely death.
The soldier sitting next to Adish was sitting next to fell into the second category. He was a young looking male, his skin had turned hideously pale and he was bent over to face the floor and breathing heavily, as if he was about to throw up.
Adish didn't recognise him, thereby making him a member of either the 023 platoon or the 103 platoon, both of which were riding the transport with the 045 platoon into Cheboksary. The terrified appearance of the youngster suggested that this was his first outing. He was presumably a replacement for someone who had been killed in the line of duty.
"This is the hard part." Adish said, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder, "Once you get outside you'll feel a lot better."
The pale soldier stared at Adish for a few seconds, he seemed irritated more then anything else at the fact that he was receiving advice, and that his fear was so apparent.
"Yes sir." He replied, revealing a German accent, it seemed to be the only thing he could say.
Adish removed his hand from the kid's shoulder and returned to his own, slightly more composed gazing at the floor.
"Do y-you think w-we'll win sir?" The soldier stuttered suddenly. The idea of speaking to superior officer, (even one who was the same rank as him and barely had any seniority), seemed to terrify him as much as the idea of getting shot.
Adish suppressed the urge to grin and simply stared at the young corporal for a few moments.
"Would you like me to peer into the future and see what happens?" he said finally, "Or would you like me to lie to you? You can't predict these things kid. You go out there, you shoot things and you try not to get shot."
"Yes sir." This reply was virtually a squeak.
"All hands be advised." The loud, metallic voice from the transport's loudspeaker made more then one person flinch, "We land in approximately ten minutes. That is all."
The pale corporal shuddered at these words and clutched his hands tighter around the weapon in his hands.
"I always wanted to visit Russia." Adish said suddenly, hoping to distract the corporal from his jitters.
Against the odds, the absurdity of this statement resulted in a nervous grin from the corporal.
"If you don't mind me asking sir," His voice had regained trace elements of composure, but was still flooded with fear, "Why did you join up?"
Adish wondered briefly whether the kid was generally interested or just wanted to distract himself with whatever he could find.
"Why does anyone?" He paused slightly and tried to think of a suitable answer, "Revenge." He said finally
The corporal was silent for a few minutes, he didn't know whether or not he had struck a nerve by asking this question, but he decided that he should avoid pursuing the conversation topic any further then he had to.
Adish was silent for a long while. Unlike many of the Human soldiers of the New Order, he hadn't lost anyone to the 'Desperate smattering of racists'. His hatred had sprung from stories, news reports and childhood memories of seeing A.I's being abused in the streets. He had joined so as to strike back at the cruelty that had tormented his friends for so long, that had caused the oppression of an entire species, that was holding back the world. He didn't feel much like explaining this to the questioner however so he kept his answer at 'revenge'.
"What about you corporal…?"
"Kier sir, Corporal Anshelm Kier." He paused slightly, his fear seemed, partially, to give way to anger, "I'm here because…" he paused; he looked like he was going to start crying and start punching the wall.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to Corporal."
"No." The response to this was louder and harsher then Kier had intended; several heads turned to stare at him. "No it helps to talk about this, get it off my chest. And I don't suppose I can start hording pain now."
Adish nodded and turned in his seat to face Kier.
"I'm here, I'm here because my son, and, Gre-, and most of my family were killed by them." He gestured at the door with a flick of his head. Adish couldn't help but feel a flicker of surprise, the corporal looked 19 at best. Then again, he thought, stranger things have happened.
"When the war started, me, my girlfriend, our son and our families tried to get to a quieter place, somewhere that wouldn't be affected by the war, or as badly affected as Germany was likely to be."
"Sweden?" (Sweden had declared itself independent and neutral in the war.)
"Yes sir, anyway, The A.O.H," he paused and hissed breath through his teeth after mentioning their name, "They claimed not to care about people leaving the country to protect their families. They might even have been telling the truth. All I remember is two people, one man, and one woman. They wore the racist's uniforms, burst into the house, we were all there, talking about what we'd do once we got over the border. Anyway, they say they were conducting a search for any remaining A.I's. My father tried to get rid of them, they." He paused again, "They. They fired." There was another, longer silence. "Me and my mother were the only one's that survived.
A wave of hate rushed through Adish and everyone who had been eavesdropping. It was hardly uncommon to hear of A.O.H soldiers taking pot shots at defenceless civilians, they usually did it for target practice, but hearing such tales never failed to bring forth bloodlust in human New Order marines.
"I'm sorry." Adish said after a few moments. Kier nodded and wiped his eyes of the tears that the memory had brought forth.
Everyone who was paying attention, as well as those that weren't, were distracted suddenly by a sudden jolt. The transport had landed.
"That was never ten minutes." Adish recognised the voice as Azami's
He reached forth and placed his hand on Kier's shoulder once more.
"How does the thought of vengeance sound Kier?"
Kier stared at Adish for a few moments; his nervousness was gone, replaced by an unwavering hatred and desire to kill every enemy he saw.
"Vengeance sounds pretty fucking good sir."
"All hands," The voice of the A.I transport boomed again, "ready weapons and prepare to enter the battle zone."
"All right people!" The voice of Captain Sebastian Hackett boomed suddenly, "This is it. Remember what you've been taught, keep your head down, and keep your head screwed on. You've all been selected for this mission because you can all walk away in triumph when it is over. Let's show these pathetic shits the true meaning of death!"
A cheer went up from the assembled platoons, and everyone clutched their weapons close to them and turned to face the door.
The door opened in almost an instant with a quiet hiss. The soldiers within the transport charged onto the reasonably flat field.
Sentinels were whizzing overhead, already descending upon the line of gun turrets that were assembled in a line that covered Cheboksary's border. Most of these guns were concentrating on sentinels, thereby allowing the humans to get close with less chance of getting shot. It was the same strategy that had been used in many past engagements, and one that usually worked.
Adish noticed corporal Kier charging towards the line of guns. His face, what he could see of it, showed a scream of rage and bloodlust, an unshakable will to destroy the enemy.
And then it was gone.
One of the gun turrets had lowered and was now taking pot shots at the line of advancing humans and humanoid machine soldiers from other transports. Adish instantly threw himself to the floor, but not before noticing a bullet punch straight through Kier's chest.
Blood, bone, tissue and shredded organs shot out of Kier's back before he fell backwards onto the floor. Panic and concern surged in Adish, but this was soon replaced by experience and remembered training.
He edged his way across the grass to where Kier was lying, face pointed towards the stars, he was still alive, he was using what fading strength he had to resist the urge to scream.
"Kier!" Adish shouted over the noise as he pulled himself alongside his fallen comrade.
"How bad is it?" Kier gurgled.
"Bad." Adish said after a few seconds.
Kier nodded and let loose a scream which was blanked out by the noise of the battlefield.
"I'm dying."
"Bullshit, you're going…"
"I'm going to see my son sir," Kier's voice became light, as if the weight of the world had been taken off of his shoulders, "I'm going to see him, Greta, my father, all of…"
Kier let out one last heavy breath before his head fell sideways, and his life left him.
Adish stared at the corpse for a second. He found he couldn't think straight. This passed soon however as he remembered the enemy behind him. Renewed hatred stirred within Adish. After closing Kier's eyes with one hand, and deploying a fatality notification beacon so that his body could be recovered, he pulled himself up and charged at Cheboksary.
To be continued.