GATE: Thus the JSDF and (ERROR! ERROR!) — uh, oh dear!

by B-Code2016J4

A magical portal manifested in the middle of Ginza and unleashed a huge medieval-fantasy army that attack everything regardless of international boundaries. As the JSDF and their allies send an expedition to the strange world, they have yet to notice a force that was never expected to exist. (Available for editing, duplication, and adoption) [Multiple crossovers]

6. Chapter 6

Feedback:

To eperdomorock: Thank you for the compliment. (Gracias por el cumplido.)

To S31tora: Hmm... the crossover story was mainly GATE: Thus the JSDF was There; and Battlefield: Bad Company at the start. Yet one should see elements from different franchise media like Saint's Row, Call of Duty, Tom Clancy's, Command and Conquer, Ace Combat, Metal Gear, Warhammer 40000, Borderlands, and Army of Two. Such mixture was also seen within my fanfic 'synthetic race' from a different universe with its unique history.

Aside from that, anything else trademarked/copyrighted in the overall story belonged to their rightful owners. And that includes ideas from Bungie's Halo and Destiny franchises; along with shoutouts from Firefly television series. As well as exported/renamed characters from "Gate: And Thus We Burned Another World" by fanfiction user Bagration; and names borrowing from "GATE: Thus the Van Doos fought there" by Goodalwayswins98.

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At the recently finished refugee site, southwest of Alnus/Arnus military base...

":Hey, gather please! We're registering your names!:" Sergeant First-Class Kuribayashi loudly called. Just behind her were Sergeant 1st-Class Kurokawa sitting next to a table with blank list papers, Private Marlowe at another table with the same paper forms; and behind the two were First Lieutenant Itami, Sergeant Kuruta holding a camera, Sergeant Redford, Private Sweetwater, and Private Haggard (all standing on the ground).

Hearing the call, the refugees come out of the newly fabricated housings (completed yesterday) for the registration. Although the elves continually use the donated tents separate from the humans for habitation, while they built their new village within the forest and near the river. They line up at the two tables to have their names, age, and other background knowledge.

First group to be logged are the Coda villagers…

Along with the two mages.

":I am Kato El Altestan, a sage from the Lindon Magic Academy of Rondel. The young lady besides me is my disciple, Lelei La Relani.:"

After writing that down, Mari asked for their age. ":And how old are you two?:"

The silver-haired apprentice answered, ":Master Kato is about sixty-seven years old, while I'm around the age of nineteen.:"

With the humans registered some times later, the next group to come are the elves.

":My name is Hodaro Ray Mariceau, chief of my people from Koan Forest and currently 900 years of age.:"

Well… that's quite a shocker for the military personnel that can understand the local language at the present location. After that comes a female elf, the same one that Private Marlowe saved from the Flame Dragon as he remembered.

":Uh… I'm Tuka Luna Mariceau, daughter of Hodaro Mariceau as you might know… :"

Preston and the other linguistic-trained soldiers are surprised to hear such revelation.

":And I'm a hundred sixty-nine years old. Eh… I would also like to thank you brave soldiers for saving what's left of my people and me, personally.:"

Several of the allied personnel then look at the American 'new guy.' "Uh… why are you guys looking at me like that?"

Upon recognizing the face of the soldier that got her out of the well while being unconscious, the elvish lady began to blush. ":Oh, ah… uh… I-I am very grateful for rescuing me, sir!:"

As the female elf leaves, Sweetwater and Haggard soon tease Preston in good nature. Itami and Kurokawa chuckled a bit at the ribbing while Kurata seeing all of that scene is feeling rather um… jealous.

'Well… at least there some silver-linings to this uh… dorkiness,' Shino thought as she looked at both the otaku's slight envy and the somewhat immature compliments on the American private.

In all, all the 'adult' humanoids are over a century old and above thirty years for the kids(except for the babies).

The last one to be recorded is the black-wearing 'lady' with her large halberd. ":The name's Lori Mercurius. A servant of Emloy, God of War and Darkness.:"

The coalition personnel turn their sights on each other in confusion; considering this native's affiliation with duh… darker subjects. Mari then asked, ":Ah… Miss Mercurius, do you want to reveal your age?:"

Lori smirked, ":Hmm… I rather keep my age a mystery to you outsiders for now. Thanks for your concerns, though.:"

With the religious 'servant' leaving, the Japanese and Americans review the refugee list.

George can't help but wondered, "Uh… guys, does anybody has a guess of how old that young gal with the big ax is?"

Youji gives a try. "Well Haggard… she doesn't look older than eighteen, right?"

"Wrong, Sir Itami."

Every allied soldier direct their attention to the woman that just spoke English, which happens to be Lelei.

"I'll be damn… you can actually understand what we're saying?" commented the Texan.

"Uh… sort of. Not yet fluent with your two languages, though."

The Japanese lieutenant said, "Ā... Daijōbu, Lelei. Tonikaku, anata wa Lori ga kodomo dena i koto o anji shimashita. Hai?"

"Eh… sore wa jissai ni wa kakkotaru jijitsudesu. Shisai wa, haruka ni, haruka ni ōku, haruka ni furuidesu."

The perplexity among the servicemen and women is still there. Sweetwater tries a clearer question, "So uh… ma'am, how old is she exactly?"

The female mage stare at Terrence for several seconds with the same blank facial expression. Then she turn her head at Lori playing with the orphaned children. Many seconds later, the apprentice looks back at the foreigners. Now with signs of uneasiness. "Uh… don't want to know. I cannot ask, too scary."

Redford exhaled, "Ah, fine. We'll write it as unknown for that grim reaper wannabe."

Marlowe agreed, "Sure thing, Sarge."

Not a moment too soon, a Cougar MRAP has entered the refugee zone and then parked alongside the JSDF Toyota and US Army Humvee automobiles in front of the camp site. Coming out of it are Specialist Rios, Corporal Gat, Private Sanford, Sergeant Kirrlov, and two new soldiers.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, is that why you're sent to this bunch of hell-raisers, Sanford?! As in you, fucked up in repairing a whole platoon of tanks?! Heh, heh, heh!" laughed the Asian-American.

"Yeah… I don't see anything funny about that mishap, Gat."

"Well, suit yourself Bobby! If my old boss from Stilwater was alive today, he wou-"

"Here's a metal detector and a shovel, Corporal Gat." Oleg hands the electronic instrument and digging tool to Johnny and another set to Sanford.

"Sooo… are we getting more guys coming to help us?" Bobby wondered.

"Not today, Private. Bravo One Charlie is to sweep the terrain surrounding the refugee sites for anymore signatures related to those Imperial corpses discovered yesterday. If there are more than we anticipated, then the options would be bringing in more personnel or having the refugees recover them as a source of income," explained an American serviceman wearing a beanie and having his uniform's sleeves rolled up.

Gat said, "Oh, thanks for the heads-up… you West Point asshole."

"Uh-hey! I worked very hard to be one of the best graduates from the prestigious military academy! At least show me some proper respect!"

"Well, I'm the wrong guy to do that… along with me being part of 'Bad Company' as of this time!"

"Just shut up and start the investigation, Gat!" Redford ordered.

"Eh… whatever, Sarge." The Asian-American soon move on to the uncut woodlands for potential indications of unknown Falmarian casualties.

"Ugh… my apologies for one of my men's bad habits, sir. I'm Sergeant Samuel Redford of the United States Army's 222nd Armored Battalion."

"Second Lieutenant Jonathin Parkerton from the 2nd Infantry Division, US Army. I have been assigned to the Third Reconnaissance Team. Is First Lieutenant Youji Itami here?"

The JSDF commanding officer happens to walk there out of curiosity. "Uh… konnichiwa, anything going on over here?"

"Oh, there you are Lieutenant. The name's Johnny Parkerton, 2nd Lt from the US military, at your service."

"Um… nice to meet you, Parkerton. Not sure if I have any objectives to do here."

"There is one, actually: overseeing the humanitarian efforts on the settled exiles. Dah?" A Russian soldier in padded armor and helmet spoke.

"And… you are?"

"Second Leytenant Mikhail Romikov of the Russian Armed Forces, sir."

Meanwhile….

In a barrack belong to the Knights of the Rose Order (within the capital city of the Saderan/Sanderan Empire), a woman with surreal red hair and in knight armor attends her white horse for a while.

"Your highness, is everything alright here?" said her silver-blonde subordinate with jade-colored eyes and in Imperial armor.

"I'm good, Panuche. Kind of wish that my order has receive a real mission for once," stated the twenty-three year old female leader.

The platinum-haired warrior sighed, "Many of us feel the same way, milady. Still, you do remember what Sir Grey has told us. Right?"

"Indeed… continue to be patient as the Emperor's 'honor guards' until an opportunity presents itself."

"Hmm… so Princess Pinae, your orders for today?"

"Well, most likely sword practices as usual… for the last twelve years that is."

"At least we'll be in good condition whenever the emperor summons us."

"That is true my friend. Yet I feel bothered by something since the fabled portal at Alnus Hill has opened."

"How did it be so, your majesty?"

"Perhaps back in the Imperial Palace where I was summoned there by my father to answer his curiosity about my presence in meetings of senators; like the declining supply of slaves, expeditions outside of Falmart that never returned, Imperial laws on crime, and other messy matters in politics. It was around that time that a messenger brought news about the 'Gate' and the world on the other side. Before I could gain an inkling of this new place, the emperor has commanded me to leave his palace, stay with my group of warriors, and do not interrupt him and the Imperial Senate in their on the issues of the sacred ground. Fuh… and I obeyed without question for the sake of keeping the Rose Order intact."

"Probably a good decision at that point… and thanks again for saving us from disbandment."

"I appreciate your kind remark, Panuche. Still…"

"More doubts in your mind, highness?"

"In all honesty, I adore this empire that held together much of this continent. But… considering the past announcement of an expedition to the new realm that later lost in excess of a hundred thousand people - an invasion force to be more exact - at the other side of the portal… within a week, followed by enormous casualties from these swarms of… 'iron bugs' that appeared in the Alnus province; which was later accompanied by the decimation of our 40,000 warriors in the enemy's counterattack, and the losses caused by these 'demons' or 'ghosts' between our capital and the occupied holy hill… while waiting for our allied vassal armies for almost ten months to clean up this debacle of a WAR! Gah… ah… ugh… so with all of this happening, I'm beginning to wonder whose bright idea was it to invade an entirely unexplored world by force… instead of pragmatic diplomacy!" The red-maned woman catches her breath after saying that account.

"Let us hope that the emperor himself was not actually responsible for starting this terrible conflict, milady. Agreed?" stated an older, semi-bald male knight who just came here to check the royal leader.

Pinae Co Lacroix stated, "I don't think my father could be that foolish enough to order an aggressive conquest with little to no insight on an unknown land, Grey. Nevertheless… I'm getting quite concern about the emperor's effectiveness in actually stopping the enemy's encroachment; under these troubling circumstances."

Back at the Alnus refugee zone….

Russian officers Oleg Kirrlov and Mikhail Romikov are observing at a distance the ground survey on an area next to the refugee sites; being performed by Bravo One Charlie for determining the concentration of buried bodies over there.

The newly arrived leytenant pose an inquiry to the serzhant in their own language. "Serzhant Kirrlov, what do you know about these Yanki soldiers?"

"Hmm… how about we start with Serzhant Samuel D. Redford, da?" Oleg suggested.

"Khorosho, let's start from there then."

"Sure thing, leytenant. Ahem… so, the African-American serzhant has around 20 years of oversea deployment in Afghanistan, Iraq, and several hotspots in the Middle-Eastern theater. Definitely a dedicated soldier of the U.S. Army but somewhere along the way, he began to grow tiresome of being a cog of the American war machine; either in the mists of battle or away from the violence. Eventually, the black Yankee asked his military to discharge him earlier than normal."

"I can guess that it didn't work at first, vernyy?"

"Several times he attempted to convince his leaders to dismiss the Sarge of military service. In the end, they both managed to reach an agreement on his honorary discharge. All he had to do was to make a voluntary transfer to B-Company of the 222nd Armored Battalion and continue serving his country for at least a year on this fantasy-land… without being killed by either the enemy or preposterously his own misbehaving comrades."

"Uh… wait, being killed by your own soldiers?"

"It's certainly feasible when working with the more 'turbulent' members of this American unit. But let's move on to Private Preston Marlowe, the newest member of B-Company."

"So what's this FNG's story then?"

"Nu, the serviceman joined the American Army for paying respect to his military family. After going through years of training, the private was deployed to a military base in Lodz, Poland for one year… without seeing any real combat."

"Did this Preston person maintain his patience?"

"Eh… sort of. Even so, he gotten bored of being stuck in a safe zone instead of actual fighting in the front… which led him to give a try on flying a Blackhawk helicopter for the first time. Unfortunately, Private Marlowe's inexperience with that particular aircraft ended up crashing it into his local general's limousine. By that nature, he should be in jail for some years. However, the American commanders decided to transfer the soldier to the 222nd Armored Battalion's B-Company instead."

"Oh… 'kay… so what are the reasons for the other Yankiz to be in that particular group? We'd already heard Private Sanford's story of him miss-wiring several Abrams tanks as a mechanic, of course."

"Da, Romikov. Up next is Private Terrence Sweetwater, a college graduate from New Jersey who joined the military for financial aids to help him attend post-graduate academies like MIT."

"Did he still maintain his intellect as a former college student?"

"Opredelenno, leytenant. He's well educated in mathematics, sciences, and technology. Nevertheless, the glass-wearing private somehow allowed… or rather… accidentally uploaded a computer virus that infected his army's delicate mainframes while working as a technician in their intelligence department. Which earned him a reassignment to B-Company."

"Oh… nu, that's quite a shame for Sweetwater to be. Doesn't it, Kirrlov?"

"Indeed so… and Terrence had fully understood the conditions he got himself into. If only that can be said about the redneck from Texas: Private George 'Gordon' Haggard Junior."

"Yeah… so what was the American bumpkin's felony for being sent to this uh… 'bad' company?"

"Heh, heh, eh… nu… this Texan has a strong fondness with explosives; which sort of got him into trouble on the get-go. Like exploding an officer's latrine with a claymore mine… or blowing up the largest ammunition depot in his own home state!" Both men laugh at the crazy misdeeds.

"Ha, ha, ha… o bozhe, that imbecile certainly deserved to be stuck in a rowdy bunch of misfits. Da?"

"Undoubtedly so… and probably the same thing for that former gangster from Stilwater, Michigan." Oleg's face then turned a bit more serious.

"Uh, wait… who?"

"Corporal Ji-hoon 'Johnny' Gat… ex-member and infamous survivor of the 3rd Street Saints, which had emerged victorious over the previous gang wars that plagued one of the 'Twin Atlantis of the Great Lakes.' That all changed a few years ago, when the cities of Stilwater and Steelport got invaded by a wide-range of diverse militia groups that wanted to burn it to the ground or 'liberate' the urban population from corruptions. The aggressors to the Saints and Stilwater's civilians includes religious extremists, hostile racists, and 'rebels' that had enough of the criminal and hate-filled violence residing in the water-locked metropolis. Likewise, the bloodshed and infrastructural damage between the violent participants were astronomical within a month. Yet the final nail to the coffin was the large-scale intervention to the lawless metropolis by an army of mixed PMCs like SSC, CELL, and Armacham - under the command of a former US Army commander named Hershel Shepherd. By that point, the gang and the uncooperative paramilitary groups had lost plenty of their strength from fighting each other. Thus, the 'mop-up' operations were relatively easy for the hired soldiers to do."

"Was that the end of the Third Street Saints?"

"Oh, hell no! Those urban hoodlums still had the tenacity to cause mayhem on Shepherd's fighting forces for several weeks; despite the growing casualties on their side. Ultimately however, the criminal leader of the Saints was killed in an all-or-nothing effort to terminate the ex-lieutenant general. Yet the notorious street gang were successful in eliminating the American commander and handfuls of highly skilled mercenaries in that desperate assault."

"What happened afterwards?"

"Essentially, the 3rd Street Saints was disbanded as a consequence of their boss's death. Still, there were rumors about the remaining gangsters that managed to escape Stilwater before the Michigan State Guards brought order to the devastated place. As to how they could've done that and their possible locations remains unknown or classified to the spy communities at this time."

"Huh… was there anything else declassified on Mr. Gat, GRU agent Kirrlov?"

"Nu… I could say that Johnny's kill count back in Stilwater was way over a thousand on rival gangsters, police officers, unlucky bystanders, Ultor personnel, bloodthirsty zealots, et cetera. How he whined up in the US Army remains off limits to everyone outside of the intelligence agencies worldwide as of today."

"Unless that former lawbreaker decide to have a say about his messy history."

"If… he do so, leytenant. Now… how about letting me take a long break from speaking such relevant expositions for the rest of the day?"

XXXXXXX

A few minutes afterwards, B-Company's metal detectors picked up several signals underneath the soldiers' feet. Obviously, they start taking the dirt out with the shovels for whatever were below the surface. A while later, human-shaped objects are exposed to the outdoor air and investigations.

Like what the Texan is observing after he unearth the remains of a Saderan legionary. Roman-like suit of armor that had been pierced multiple times, decaying tissues, and... no skulls (or what's left of the cranium in small amount). Uncertain of the macabre display, George start walking towards Sweetwater (who just completely uncovered the same type of corpse). "Hey, Sweatwater! Do you have the time to check out... the... oh. I'll be darn."

"Uh... what is it, Hags?"

"Well, the dead guy down there is as headless as the one I just dug up."

The eye-glassed private look at the corpse's missing head. "Huh... you're right, Haggard. This legionary has much of his cranium gone. Just like the other bodies that the Japanese engineers had found during the refugee housing construction, you dummy." The intellectual personnel sarcastically noted.

"Well excuse me for not being all smartypants, CSI Jersey."

Sweetwater brush the comment aside and take more time analyzing the gory clues. Soon, he notice something. "Hmm... carbonized layers outside of those holes. Well... all of them at least. I have a feeling that something or someone had burn through this poor fella."

"Like what? An archer that shoot out fire arrows or something like that?"

"Nah... the rather clean circles all over this body looked more like large bullet holes. Yet how would bullets leave behind burnt residues without churning up organs?"

"Perhaps bullets on fire might do the... uh... wait, that doesn't make sense. I thought that the locals here don't have guns, Sweets."

"And most likely never seen one in their daily life from our experiences, Hags. So unless someone unknown had just 'magically' made some kind of laser rifle, it remains a mystery to what exactly had killed them."

"Could it be Martians firing ray guns?!"

Terrence look at him with disbelief. "Really, George? Would you be that juvenile to expect sci-fi aliens of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds to arri-"

"Go aisatsu, minasan. Koko de daijōbu?"

The two American privates redirect their attention to the female medic from the JSDF 3rd Reconnaissance Team, who is also accompanied by Sergeant Kuribayashi. The eyeglass-wearing US soldier responded, "Oh... uh... Yā ojōsan... -tachi. Sorede... Koko de nani... ga okotte iru no?"

Mari chuckles, "Ā, sore wa nani mo nai. Amerikahito ga hakkutsu chōsa de umaku itte iru ka dō ka o kakunin suru dakedesu."

Haggard barged in the dialogue. "Uh... I'm not good with understanding Japanese words, everyone. So what did she just said to us today?"

Shino summarized the meaning, "Ahem. For your information, Sergeant Kurokawa and I are wondering about your well-being; as you Americans recover the enemy remains for thorough forensics."

"Well... since you gals asked nicely, I would say that it could have been more enjoyable. If we're shoveling out buried treasures, instead of smelly body parts."

The baffled medic reminded, "Mr. Haggard, you must understand that the Allied Command are truly curious to know how these adversaries bizarrely died prior to our seizure of the 'Gate' here."

"Um... I sorta get the purpose of us guys doing detective stuff right here. Although Sweets and I had just made a guess about space aliens being guilty of this shitty scene."

Kuribayashi suspiciously noted, "Seriously... extraterrestrials as culprits of the buried enemies at this vicinity, on this fantasy world?"

Terrence added, "Well... that remains an unproven theory for now. Like what Miss Kurokawa has said though, we don't really know the perpetrators of this disturbing handiwork and how it was done onto them. Speaking of damage assessment ladies, how much value could the refugees recover from the broken items of these poor fellows?"

Both women look at each other with uh... relatively no clue. " Mari answered, "Private, that math question should have been asked after both the entire excavation and the full calculation on amount that the refugees have recovered are complete. Understood?"

"Uh... yeah, I could understand the uncertainty of how mu-"

"Good, we sergeants will leave you two alone with the chores for the time being! Ganbatte!"

Shino added a warning, "And try not to get yourselves in trouble, boys."

The female soldiers move on towards a different site being dug by B-Company's new guy, not too far away though. Meanwhile, the two Americans decided to take the Imperial corpse out from the pit to the surface... as they continue talking. "Don't worry yourself on what Kury said, Sweets. I'll spot trouble before you know it." The Texan proclaimed as he grab and hold the upper torso of the rotten legionary.

"Suuure you do, Hags. How bad can it get with Mister Explosive 'Expert' right here?" Terrence stated with sarcasm while holding the foot part of the dead body. As the duo carry the lifted cadaver haphazardly, a small brown pouch came down from the deceased... with a metallic cling. Soon, the Americans notice the simple item with curiosity.

On this account, George simply let go of the corpse while leaving the eyeglass-wearing private rather stumped with the lying body. The American redneck wondered, "Hmm... I wonder what inside this bag that the Greeky fellow was holding." He grabbed the fabric object and manipulate his fingers for a rough picture of the inner content. Metal rubbing each other, circular edges, thin shape... eh, something similar to coins.

Wait... coins?

With that insight of money, Haggard put inside one hand to validate his suspicions. What he took outside is a flat, round piece of...

Gold.

"Well slap me hard and call me El Dorado!"

Sweetwater was quite amazed at what the explosive 'specialist' found. "Oh... okay, El Dorado. Let's take a look."

"Whoa, whoa! Finder's keepers, that's the rule!" The Texan stated as he defend his claim from the inquisitive private from New Jersey.

Still, their continuous arguments over the coinages unknowingly led the duo towards sergeant Redford's dig site. Halfway into their moving spectacle though, Preston noticed them squabbling about something as he just excavated a second corpse with the same damage to the head and body (and shortly after the Japanese ladies had finished their conversation with him and left to check-up the refugee site). With his curiosity taking over, he walk across the surface to the cause of their quarrel. As Marlowe catches up with the disputers, he attentively detect a gold color on one of Haggard's hand. And by some dumb luck, another coin escape from the small sack and onto the ground. While George and Terrence are distracted with their 'exchange' in motion, the 'new' member of Bravo-One Charlie proceed to pick up the gold coin and observe it. 'Wow... this piece of gold seem to be the Real McCoy.'

Quickly however, the Afro-American sarge caught his sight on the arguing subordinates and move closer in their direction. "Haggard! Sweetwater! What are you frat boys talking about?" Samuel demanded.

As the military misfits explained the situation to their squad leader, Private Marlowe watches the commotion from a certain distance. 'Now... if people with less moral fibers were here, that might poses a big problem.'

When the clarification about the loot is done for Redford to listen, the dark-skinned American then confiscate the coins from George's hands to the officer's responsibility. "Ladies! We're in a war, not a damn treasure hunt. And since we're part of the coalition forces, they belong to the allied military. Also, the refugees need more of these than we do for their recovery from those Fire Dragon attacks that they've endured. Do you two copy?!"

The pair are initially unsure of a clear answer. Eventually, the eyeglass-wearing soldier agreed, "Well, that would be bad publicity if some nosy reporters think that we noble Americans are nothing more than looting troublemakers here."

"Kinda think about, we're more like the merry band of Robin Hood that take money from the greedy kings and giving it to the poor." The Texan commented.

"Can you two please prioritize the well-being of the displaced locals, instead of your satisfactions?!" Reford shouted.

This time, the army privates get the meaning. "We get the gist, Sarge. Don't want to put Karma on the bad side, anyway." Haggard confirmed.

"Good... now let's get back to work!"

'But... we're all men of duty. So... when the Sergeant said the gold coins belong to the Army and native exiles, we all agreed and got back to work.'

An hour later, the excavating team come up with 80 bodies of legionaries and auxiliaries and counting. All decomposing badly, virtually no heads, and had 'unnatural' holes across their remains. The personnel not doing the physical work performed minor funerals for the dug-up deceased, before allowing the refugees to 'recover' valuable items. As another short ritual for a dead Imperial goes underway, someone decide to blur out a thought.

"Hey, uh... guys. Why are we making prayers to these poor fellows that looked like the ones who wrecked Tokyo? You know... like a herd of bulls in a giant china shop."

Sergeant Mari Kurokawa, though a bit annoyed at Haggard's 'curiosity' like her Japanese squad, nevertheless gives an answer in English. "Private Haggard, we are aware of these soldiers belonging to our current enemy. However, having disregards to the corpses of our opponents may likely reinforce their view of us as uncivilized 'barbarians.' In light of winning the hearts and minds on this land, showing honor and dignity to the fallen is important to help rethink the inhabitants' point-of-view."

Gat added, "Sure, it seem nice to show kindness on deceased opponents. But regardless of whatever caused the many deaths of these motherfuckers, I still think they deserved to have their fatty asses and pussy-loving dicks desecrated."

Shino Kuribayashi warned, "Watch your mouth, gaijin rat."

Forward a week and a half at a Russian military outpost, somewhere in Siberia….

The human garrison of this military site are on high alert under heavy amount of obscuring clouds; manning the few watch towers, activating armored UGVs fitted with auto-cannons and AT missiles, and holding positions behind concrete slabs. This situational vigilance among the Russian soldiers was caused by the days-old reports they received from two army bases, a major airfield complex, and a handful of scattered outposts further east toward the Pacific coastlines.

Here how it went several days prior:

Outpost military personnel had detected hundreds of unknown characters intruding their defense perimeters… for each installation. Several times did the Russians warned the brown-armored trespassers not to proceed any closer to the sites and to leave the premises… or else the humans will open fire.

The intruders ignored the warnings and continued toward the outposts rather casually.

As expected, the native occupants unleashed hails of bullets onto the uninvited guests in response… only to reveal the incredible resistance that the brown-colored infantry armors had against ballistic rounds. However, the larger caliber bullets from heavy machine guns were making slighter dents on the protective materials; and it seemed that the iconic RPGs (although in limited numbers) were able to penetrate such bulletproof outfits (and to expose the robotic nature of these invaders). Despite all of that happening, the armored intruders kept moving and the Russians still pouring leads and rockets.

After a period of nonstop gunfire, the unknown trespassers then returned the favor with rapid successions of plasma bolts and particle beams from their futuristic weapons. In a near instant, the direct-energy projectiles cut down much of the human defenders; even while wearing their own body armors. The soldiers that did survive had already left the outposts before the aliens retaliated; since those fortunate souls immediately recognized the odds stacked against them… and in turn, stop firing and fled quickly - while their 'stubborn' comrades continued the defenses. Thus, the outdoor military sites were overrun and the survivors escape to those few bases that were soon informed about these encounters.

Three days later, those same armed interlopers arrived at the outer perimeters of the main army fortifications and air force complex. Except this time, the unwanted foreigners were in the thousands and accompanied by numerous assault vehicles that looked like hovering… tanks (hover engine within each of the four mechanical legs, high-velocity plasma cannon, two laser guns on both sides of the main turret for anti-air or infantry, two AI-driven dual shotgun turrets, a rooftop incendiary grenade launcher turret, high-tech durable armor, designation as T-120 Ogre/Velikan-Lyudoyed, and anything else unknown to the Russians). Also in the vast mix were 'modern-looking' main battle tanks (T-119 Black Bear/Chernyy Medved' with 140mm gun), self-propelled guns (dual howitzer variants of the T-119), 8-wheeled IFVs (BTR-110 Cossack with an automatic railgun), and unarmed versions of the Ogre hover tanks that often accompanied the more menacing combat vehicles. For the air base though, anti-air derivatives of the Black Bear tracked vehicle were among the large crowd of trespassers.

Once again, the intrusive visitors moved in rather slowly and relaxed weirdly enough. This time however, the T-120s were sent in first as their hover generators allowed the tanks to not trigger explosions on the minefields. Like the last confrontations, the human defenders alerted them - in advance - to stop and turn away from their military facilities; while being flabbergasted at their mines not blowing up.

And yes… the unknown army paid no heed to the warnings.

As such, the Russian garrisons launched anti-armor warheads coming out of their own MBTs, rocket launchers, and other military systems designed to eliminate heavy armored targets. The responding firepower made direct hits on the invading war machines; engulfed in thick smokes.

Shockingly to the humans however, the alien metal behemoths came out unscathed - due to additional protection from their own individual energy shields. Even so, the Ogre armored units persistently encroached into the Siberian bases without unleashing their weapons… while also shrugging off projectiles from the relentless Russian barrage in retaliation. Strangely, the T-120s halted their advances a few feet after passing over the minefields. Fewer would realized that long lines of explosives were attached to all of the mighty tanks' rears and coming out of those seemingly weaponless vehicles that were feet away from the mine-laden areas. Therefore, every cable of high-yield containers simultaneously detached themselves from both military machines and soon landed on the traveled minefields. Seconds later, all the ropes go boom - resulted in the virtual destruction of the area-denial traps underground. With the affected landmines neutralized, the majority of the nonnative forces subsequently and methodically surged through the clear paths.

It really doesn't matter to the newly arrived airborne rotorcrafts though; like the HP-48 Krokodils, counter-rotating Hellions, ducted-fan Hypers, Hunchbacks, and so on (more than half of them fitted with energy weapons). Yet on the defender's front, the Russians continued firing at the immense horde - even while in retreat. After some time of ignoring such 'aggressive' defiance (like the last interactions), the 'robotic' intruders finally shot back… with deadly firepower and accuracy. Regrettably, the human infantry took serious fatalities from direct-energy armaments as many tried to fight on the move… instead of a complete withdrawal. The 'man'-driven tanks with ERA panels fare a bit better on the other hand, since the internal explosives helped reduce the damage on the main armor from the plasma cannons. The downside was once those protective components were gone, they're gone for good. Perhaps many Russian tanks would had retreated to safety… if they didn't refuse to stop launching lethal warheads at their 'enemies' while on the move (several tank rounds had managed to incapacitate their armored targets, mainly due to enormous stresses accumulated on the shield systems by previous volleys). Consequently, the foreign cannon-mounted vehicles reciprocally fire at the 'hostile' tracked units; in which plenty of them ended up destroyed.

In the air above the military airbase, Russian attack helicopters discharged their payload into the unwelcome outsiders whereas the rotor-powered transports carried passengers away from the battlefield. Although the low-altitude assault rotorcraft 'demolished' handfuls of troops and vehicles, many of them still got shot down by surface-to-air missiles, laser weaponry, et cetera in the end. Speaking of aerial combat, warplanes from the air force facilities sent in bombs and missiles onto the interloping war machines as well. Easier said than done… as the anti-air tracked vehicles were able to intercept the launched munitions and occasionally the attacking planes by the use of lasers and particle beams. Additionally, the human pilots soon had to deal with incoming bogeys that looked like their famous Su-47 experimental aircraft. Along with distinct visual designs, these forward swept-wing counterparts were also noticed to have greater advancements such as plasma guns, tougher armor, and AI cores inside the 'cockpits' to control flight maneuvers. Henceforth the much harder dogfights that the native combat jets caught themselves in.

As the invading mechanical hordes rapidly controlled greater proportions of the army bases, more Russian saturation artillery units were operated from afar to unleash plenty of ordnance shells and rockets at their opponents. They certainly 'banged up' large numbers of ground forces inside the occupied military complexes, but those victories don't last long as surface attack variants of that Berkut doppelganger aircraft located and eliminated the long-range war instruments (those that kept resuming the bombardment, that is). Russian anti-air vehicles guarding the artillery groups opened fire at the forward swept-wing attackers; although their bullets were relatively unsuccessful in penetrating the Bloodhounds' nano-enhanced carbon airframes and the SAMs had often been fooled by decoy flares or shot down by point-defense lasers from the tail sections of those intruding aircraft.

Now, someone expected the escalations to go um… nuclear.

Well… there were several large automotive platforms at great distances from the fighting that each carried a tactical nuclear missile launch system.

Too bad for the human 'adversaries' that swarms of micro-bots had already 'detained' the mobile WMDs - long before any order has reached them or a single reaction from the Russians themselves could be done. The big rockets' ignition electronics, their engines, and even the nuclear payloads inside were made inert by those very tiny drones enveloping the powerful arsenals in the thousands. Yet the collective swarms had forcefully ousted the crews who were quite 'stubborn' to not abandon their vehicles - instead of rationally killing them (weird behavior to the humans anyway).

With their tactical nukes unworkable, the losing defenders ultimately abandoned the military bases and withdraw further to other outposts and/or major strongholds of the Russian armed forces.

Which brings to the soldiers on guard - back at the present day: being vigilant for those robot 'terminators' that may or may not come to this outpost or any other military sites.

Two outdoor personnel take some time to talk about world news.

"Oy, Vladino. Did you hear anything about North Korea lately?

"I obviously do, Tovar. Most of the isolated country is said to be overrun with unknown invaders in the hundreds of thousands; and their capital, Pyongyang, over there is being under siege by those tenacious bastards."

"Da, but what got us unnerving was how this mysterious army's weapons and vehicles looked almost similar to our own military arsenals."

"That's definitely surreal, comrade… if ignoring the different paint jobs and features on such a vast army."

"Might be two big armies, actually: one brown and the other a mix of red and green."

"Should that trivia matters, Tovar?"

"Maybe so, Vladino. Our neighbors in China are working on viable options to deal with those red-green, uninvited guests occupying their recently devastated territories and cities by that nasty typhoon; like Shanghai and Nanjing."

"Uh… what kinds of plans?"

"Nu… anything except nuclear strikes."

"Huh… are they really that committed to take their lands intact?"

"Actually, it might had to do with those damn black swarms that were quite effective in searching for and deactivating nuclear weapons."

"Does that mean the Chinese are unable to deploy nukes?"

"Not just the armed forces of mainland China, my friend. There are reports of the United States, India, and Pakistan having multitudes of their atomic WMDs being immobilized by the same countless 'bugs' that have recently messed up our capabilities to launch nuclear ICBMs."

"Uh… da… which leads to this terrible prospect: turning those captured nukes against us."

"Ugh… I definitely don't want to be on the receiving ends of our own powerful weapons like that. Still though… would they be willing to unleash such destructive power?"

Before any response to the question, loudspeakers and radio communication comes alive. "This is your commanding officer to all personnel of this outpost. We have received a new order from Command Headquarters relating to those brown-armored trespassers. The top brass had read the reports of this invasion on our motherland, but the higher-ups wants to know if this hostile doppelganger army could try to kill us without any soldier from our side firing at them. Thus to answer that, military installations and personnel of the Russian Federation are directed to only watch their movement and not retaliate against these opponents. I'll say it again, do not give them a battle regardless of their intrusions on our bases. Leytenant Nikovaff, out."

Plenty of the outpost personnel reacted with confusion.

"Wait… we're not firing back at them… at all?!" Vladino voiced his surprise.

"Bez shutok! That sounds very risky to let those 'robots' pass through our forts," said the other soldier.

"Indeed, who would be crazy enough to be a martyr without a chance to retaliate?"

"No clue over there, but we're certainly not like those hippie idiots who still think that love can solve every problem on this Earth."

"Da… now that I think about it however, how would those aliens react to such peace-loving airheads?"

"Don't know. Perhaps the unnamed interlopers would find th-"

The outpost commander speaks once more through the broadcasting apparatuses. "Nikovaff here, again. Our concealed sniper teams have reported back to us a battalion-size force, the same guys in brown colors, moving towards our position in 10 minutes. As ordered by command, we are to hold our fire and observe their progress. Therefore, I really recommend that our unmanned ground vehicles to be set in watch-mode only. I'll see to it personally that the directive is complied. End of transmission."

Tovar sighed, "Ugh… I hope the top brass know what they're doing when they tell us to cease-fire."

Despite doubts within the military site, the soldiers obey, get the place to be less 'hostile,' and await the incoming intruders. Ten minutes later, those brown-armored 'guests' arrive as expected - including their railgun-mounted IFVs and 4-wheeled armored cars (GZ-255). Step by step, the unknown invaders casually move closer and closer to the outpost. Tension fills the air among the Russians looking at the encroachment, yet the humans maintain their discipline to not react with force. Eventually, the robotic battalion reach the central interior of the site and uh... look around.

Glazing at the flesh-and-blood soldiers, their equipment, buildings, barriers, and such and such for some periods, while in motion of slowly leaving the small installation... and not aiming and/or triggering their energy firearms simultaneously.

Quite bewildering for the military personnel of Russia to witness such 'inquisitive' behaviors from highly advanced 'war machines.' Half an hour forward, the armed visitors have all departed from the outpost's vicinity and heading westward. With no casualties on both parties amazingly enough.

Vladino spoke, "O Bozhe, never thought that there some merits behind that crazy order from the higher-ups."

"Da... truly unreal on what just happened here. Huh... kind of makes me wonder: would the Amerikantsy respond well to a stand-down command from their generals; as robotic armies of unknown origins continue to roam across the United States of America?" Tovar asked.

"Eh, eh... nu, I would obviously assume that every angry Yanki will try to evict them by force first; before actually understand more thoroughly about the given situations. That is, if they could allow chances to find out the stranger part of those metal heads or not."

"O chuvak... then I'd wish them luck on refraining the urge to react like outraged lunatics."

"And that probably goes the same thing for all existing extremists, criminals, and anyone else around the world that will try to smash dilemmas first; instead of diplomatic answers."

"Xa... as if those bloodthirsty African warlords and Islamic terrorists could ever change their own souls into something more uh, humanitarian." The soldier then has a question in his mind. "Back to those automatons however, why did they behave like that?" Before his comrade can reply, every Russian in the outpost soon heard something soaring in the clouded skies. "Uh... what's that sound?"

Just above the clouds covering the Siberian region are five airborne entities in V-formation.

One gigantic object shaped like a manta-ray and four smaller crafts similar in design; along with names like 'Aigaion,' 'Kottos,' and 'Gyges' in that order.

Also... they're the first battle group, out of nine belonging to the 'Hekatonkheires' aerial fleet, to arrive on Earth.

Two days later in Falmart/Falmaria/Falmarius/Sandera; and somewhere along the Appia Highway between Crety and Italica...

Over thirty thousand warriors are marching on or alongside the stone-paved pathway that leads to the major fortress city of the Folmari Province. They include the foot-soldiers, knights on armoured horses and tamed wyverns, archers, crossbowmen; crews for the catapults and ballistae; orcs, goblins, minotaurs, ogres, and trolls from the auxiliary units; and battle mages. All came from the serf states further west that were summoned by the Saderan/Sandera emperor to drive out the otherworlders from Alnus/Arnus Hill. Leading the military collection were the vassal kings and their entourages.

A few feet next to the subservient leaders on their sides is a cloaked woman in brown-colored, ranger-like outfit and riding her own horse. The lone dark-green haired gal and other mysterious wanderers were responsible for convincing the vassal war-chieftains to go to Italica; instead of moving straight to the sacred hill as told by Imperial messengers. However, the female 'ranger' was the only one accompanying this lot of legions since the other anonymous agents left for reasons that remained secret to the medieval fighters. As she take the time to look around the landscape, one of the kings ask her.

"Out of curiosity my dear, do you currently serve a master?"

She turn her sight at the royal man, "Should such an inquiry ever be answered?"

"Hmm... not all the time, darling. But considering the news you somehow got from your friends about the Empire's vassals going to the new meeting in Italica, I would have assume a patron was behind the change of plans."

"Well... that could possibly be so, sir."

"For the gods' sake, I'm of noble blood and you should address me and other respectable kings a-" He suddenly heard something in the sky and redirect his sight to see a cylindrical object falling down. "What the underworld is that?"

Everyone in the enormous battle group stop and notice the unknown entity descending rather fast. It quickly made impact on solid, flat ground that is located a few miles left of the allied army; releasing shockwaves and uplifting tons of dirt to the air. Many medieval warriors and fantasy creatures on terra firma were forced down by the blast of air and shaking of the ground.

All the horses panic, upon which one ridden by the lady in cloak fell over. The emerald-haired dame still remain seated on the saddle due to the stirrups locking her feet and tight grip on the reins; but she did received quite a blunt hit from the fall. "Grr... ow, my arm and head. That's going to leave a mark." Immediately, the female 'ranger' get her animal standing up and calming it down.

When the large medieval forces get their act together, they refocus their attention to that crash site in a distance with concerns. The vassal lords send in several horsemen to scout the affected area, while the rest of the alliance gradually resume their trek towards the fortified crossroad city. Several minutes later, the scouting units arrive at some distance of the mammoth cylinder for a clearer view.

What scared them more are the beings coming out of that crashed structure: green skins, beastly teeth, big muscles, crudely-made armor, hunched stances, and makeshift melee weapons.

In essence to their native eyes... orcs - and there hordes of them exiting the huge object; along with goblin lookalikes.

Unexpectedly, the horse riders hear a similar noise in the heavens. They instantly turn their heads to the sources and disturbingly witness an almost identical shape falling like the last one. It soon violently contact the terrain and created a crater that is fairly close to the other cylindrical vessel. As well as the air-blasts and earth vibrations felt by the moving servant armies again.

Surprisingly to the Falmarian warriors and nobles though, the ranger-like woman on foot has gotten one of her arms entangled with the reins of her scared horse. Consequently, she get dragged on the ground as the hoofed creature gallop for life away from the collaborating troops. "Whoa-ho-HO!" yelped the covered damsel.

"Tch! There goes our cute but clumsy messenger, milord!" One bodyguard said to his royal leader.

"Perhaps so, my loyal servant. But my thoughts right now are more bothered by those two uh... 'towers' that landed near our forces."

After some periods of time, the scouts return to the main fighting group with grave reports: green-skinned orcs and goblins in the thousands... and looked ready for war with their weapons.

"Sires, what would you have us brave warriors do?" asked by one of the surveying horsemen.

The leading warlords think about it for some time. "Hmm... we still remembered the Imperial decree to launch a counterattack against the enemy at Alnus Hill. But..."

Another king added, "Those beastly barbarians could do severe damage on everything within our own states, if left unchecked."

Soon, the available commanders made their final decisions: fight the 'orcs.'

In the command tent of the Armies of Unified Kingdoms, yards away from Italica, meanwhile...

"Hellooo, fellow travelers!" A recognizable yellow droid shouted shortly after entering the big fabric shelter; and its appearance has cause much of the people inside to be confused. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you! I am a CL4P-TP stewa-"

"Also known as Claptrap, or Clappy if any of you want things shorter than the very... I mean seriously, a ridiculously long list of obnoxious jokes that this foolish 'golem' had babbled out for many years," interrupted a man in 'ranger' clothing.

"Aww... that's so sweet of you to wrap-up my introduction to the noble douche-bags, Mr. Kaydin Buck! So how was your vacation time with the lovely, yet weird and clueless fantasy ladies on this unaltered crap of magic?"

The gathered kings are puzzled by the cloaked man who talked suddenly after days of silence, what 'douche-bags' means, and other things from that misplaced cheerfulness. The female 'dark elf,' wearing a green 'elvish' robe and wrapped headwear in grey color, didn't express much emotion on the optimistic robot (on the outside appearance though).

The mildly frustrated male ranger answered, "It was uh... well... great. Plenty of good conversations I had with the female population of this magical continent; although my xenophobia is still strong in the more uh... intimate departments."

The yellow bot guessed, "Like having cat-girls, draconian gals, bunny-warriors, and other demi-human women trying to have sexual interco-"

"Ah-whoa-whoa-wait-uh-ah-no, hell no, ugh! I didn't went that far during my scouting trips on this planet; considering that I had seen enough negative ramifications, both physical and psychological examples, to convince myself otherwise! And besides, how about not interrupting our talks again for this day?!"

"Oh... what kinds of conversations did I interrupted just then?"

Yeah... what did Claptrap interrupted inside the tent?

Well, let's start with the fact that the royal fabric structure was setup by the earlier vassals that had arrived at the 'rendezvous' site. After the command tent was finished and more armies from the different states made it to the meeting point, the present warrior rulers converged and communicated each other about their statuses on royal family, land, agriculture, people, military, politics, and so on (along with countless wooden boxes containing both relatively fresh and preserved food and drinks that were there when the first vassal units appeared); while waiting for additional allied forces and possibly Imperial units to arrive. The unknown guides in cloaks who accompanied the medieval coalition then roamed from time to time across the massive encampment and nearby areas. To the summoned warriors, they have the facial characteristics of humans and elves. Curiously, the chatty 'ranger' did stop talking when he's within the camping grounds.

Aside from the military buildups, nothing seemed to happen until a courier from the Saderan/Sanderan Empire came yesterday tonight to discover the meaning of the relocation and relay the news (which were that the Imperial army commander can't come due to their 'legions' being preoccupied in 'attacking' Alnus Hill and the demands to make an assault on the enemy occupiers as soon as all the vassals' military might are assembled). After the Saderan exit the camp, the summoned kings discussed on battle plans and hypotheses on what's going on with the Empire lately. Earlier today though, the dark-colored lady in green robe entered the campsite and visited the military leaders for another gathering back at the important fabric shelter again.

A vassal lord named Dulan of the Elbe Kingdom agreed with her requests and soon followed by the other top lieges of the Saderan Empire to the tent. Also coming inside were those secret travelers, leading some kings to suspect something with that 'dark elf.' With the important leaders congregated, she revealed to them information about the reappearance of the magical portal, Imperial scouting missions on the other side, what they brought back illegally or unethically, the Empire's decision and reasons to invade, construction of a permanent frame for the Gate by the Saderans, how many Imperial legions they rallied for the so-called expedition, the numbers that did returned from the 'new' world, captured civilians, obsolete defenses against these powerful opponents, and everything else that had led to this situation (including the emperor's plan to neutralize the subordinate states as threats to his power hold). After hearing such revelations (without the use of high-tech visual aids at first), the kings were in a state of astonishment - and yet there were still doubts from the men on these truths. Around that period, loud noises and ground-shaking reached the army site and the rest of the Folmari estate. Even so, the one-eyed noble general asked her the directions to take if the facts were accurate.

Before she answers, the one-wheeled robot barged in the dialogues on war.

Back to the current time, Kaydin replied the previous question, "Well... it might had to do with persuading the prideful war chiefs and their boys to go home; instead of taking part in a one-sided meat-grinding event that they can't win! Isn't that right, Miss Thorayja?"

The colored lady responded, "It sure does, Lieutenant Buck. If these rulers are not willing to waste their own soldiers to a lopsided massacre, however."

Dulan spoken, "Lady Thor-ay-ja, you should realize that we vassals are relatively honor bound to the emperor's decree. And yet, our main concerns now as inhabitants of Falmart are about the untold devastation that these outsiders could bring onto our lands. Therefore, I hope you had another path to victory available to us kings. Do you, ma'am?"

The woman exhaled a breath and resume speaking. "How about discussions on neutrality between such participants of war? Taking into account that neither sides are really enemies, victors, or losers at this point."

A ruler from the Ligu Principality stated, "Surely you jest, dark elf! For all we know, the outworlders could be too angry to allow peaceful negotiations as a result of the criminal capture of their people prior to the supposed invasion - if proven true. Additionally, such solution could be taken as a ruse by the invaders to lure the allied leadership into a deathtrap that would bring chaos to the rest of our warriors."

"Well... at least your adversaries on the sacred hill are not war-seeking Orks."

The boxy droid intrudes, "Yeah, and if Orks and Gretchins were to be here, they would be all chopping and smashing everything in their... ohhh."

"What's the matter, you uh... golem?" The Elben king wondered.

"I almost forget about those greenskins that were already here!" The vassal leaders are in a 'what did you say' expression before Claptrap continues. "Well... not actually within the vicinity of Folmari province, but those previous loud booms and earthquakes were really made by giant flying ships; crudely-made by those ugly green barbarians as they crash-landed to the ground!"

"Ahem... are you sure that what you're saying here were all true?"

"Why would I lie about Ork invasions? I mean, over a year ago, I was being kicked around by desperate denizens from the land of Pandora."

"Pan-dor-a, you say?"

"Correct! A place full of homicidal animals, bandits, mercenaries, and jerkbags! Not to mentioned the old laboratories in ruin, advanced weapons rusting aw-"

"Clappy, can you please tell us your story with the Orks? Like, right now?! 'Cause our royal friends here need to know why hordes of green beasts are coming to this unchanged world," demanded the man in cloak.

"Sure thing, Mister Kaydin guy! So after roaming around aimlessly for some time, I met an group of greenskins that had captured a small band of misplaced Imperial legionaries."

A king of Mudwan noted, "Wait, did you just say Imperial soldiers?"

"Yep, and I'm uh... sort of responsible for magically transporting those angry legionaries to such a violent place. Anyhow, the Ork boys were interrogating the Imperials on who they are, where they came from, how they got there, and similar questions. Respectively in their pride and arrogance, the humans proclaim themselves as legionaries from the Empire that virtually ruled an entire continent called Falmart and the-... I'm sorry, was it actually Falmarius or Falmaria, Sandera, or maybe-"

"Get back on track, Claptrap! So why did you help those Imperial cohorts then?" said the irritated male ranger.

"Eh, eh, sorry about that! My reason for teleporting the Imperial jackasses with magic was for the sake of friendship. Of course, those cohorts and I ended up in Pandora - instead of the supposedly lush paradise of rich goods that they imagined themselves to be."

Surprisingly, the vassal warlords chuckled at the unfortunate incident of those Saderan legionaries. "Eh, kind of makes me feel sorry for the glory-seeking Imperials. Just almost, though." A ruler from Alguna mumbled before making an inquiry for the 'golem.' "So uh... Claptrap, what were the fates of those soldiers taken captive by the green orcs?"

"Well... in the end, they all got butchered to death in the humongous war-boss camp. But that is after I got captured as well, confirmed the legionaries' answers with my answers, both of us being dragged to the Ork's main camp, told the biggest ork leader our supernatural adventures again, and myself the only one to be spared."

"Now hang on a secunda... why did such war-loving barbarians allowed you to live?"

"Well... I do have this need to make uh... friends. Therefore, I agreed to anything that the green-colored savages tell me to do. And they included verifying salvaged maps of the entire planet, interacting with their contraptions, becoming a chew toy for their torturing amusements, and tagging along the first big rocket ship to reach the medieval lands."

Some silence fills the inner space with almost everyone speechless and the hooded man scratching his head... while holding a lasso in his other hand. "So essentially, this yellow 'golem' was partly responsible for the current Ork invasion on uh... Falmart."

All of a sudden, tremors and roaring sound occurs once more on the allied main encampments and the city of Italica. They definitely spook the vassal kings, albeit in a slightly lesser extent than before. "Gods damn it, more strange shaking and noise again?" Dulan observed.

Claptrap replied, "It seems so, Mister Dulan sir! Most likely a newly arrived ship of about 80,000 orks inside and ready to fight!"

"Eighty thousand for each ship?! Then what is the total number of such massive force? And please, address us kings properly as either milords, highness, majesty, sires, or chiefs at our presence. Alright?"

"Eh... fine with that, chief. And for that other question, I think the greenskins have uh... hundreds of thousands of them in their Waaagh!"

The war chieftains of the Unified Kingdom Armies look at each other in shock on the fact that the size of this orc army is massive. Yet there's not much emotion coming from the secretive travelers.

Perhaps not for Kaydin Buck who soon lassoed the foolish robot. "Well, looks like you lords have a pretty good understanding of what at stake here. So let me take this metal idiot outside of your camp and uh... wish you all good luck on your military action! Eh, heh."

While being yanked away and once outside the tent, Claptrap said, "Uh, I don't think I'm actually done there, Bucky. Since I did met Lori Mercury again, which was after she found the first ork ship that I was on board, and later picking a big fight with the greenish humanoids. Oh, and I did have some chitchats with the demigoddess on top of the rocket before its reactor exploded into smithereens; which sent me flying towards Italica and met you guys! Isn't that great?"

"Ha... ha... ugh, I had to wonder on how the divine bitches could tolerate such obnoxious hazard."

Returning to the area that has turned into a battlefield between Orks and vassals...

In testudo or phalanx formations, the legionaries from the serf kingdoms clash with the chaotic mass of the melee-oriented Slugga Boys and Gretchins. Their spears piercing through the headlong barbarians while having the shields in front and interlocked to protect the fighting men from potential blows the greenskins' close-quarter weapons. The beastly invaders at the fore got plenty of 'pointy sticks' embedded almost everywhere on their bodies. Such attacks may work on the smaller grots, but the Orks themselves are very resilient to take that much damage and keep on fighting.

Not to mention the arrows and bolts from the many volleys previously made by the archers and crossbowmen behind thick rows of front-line men when the battle began. Despite the effectiveness on the gretchins, the bigger cousins are not so easily killed or bleed out due to their physiological structures. Same story repeated with thrown javelins from the allied warriors, although the artillery units like the catapults and ballistae fair a bit better in dishing out blunt trauma or incendiary damage when fire-based projectiles are used.

As the hand-to-hand combat ensues, medieval spears occasionally get stuck within the hides of the Orks. As those kinds of cases happens, the greenskins that are still breathing often snap the jabbed 'deadly' poles in two. Afterwards, the unbound barbarians resume their rampage at the shielded warriors with either sharped tools or bare hands - with enough strength to effortlessly shatter the protective items. If fortunate, the spear-less soldiers would switch to their swords to stab or slash (the latter method prove to be slightly more viable in prolonging the battle).

At the flanks, the 'demi-human' auxiliaries and airborne wyvern cavalries charge into the horde to commit as much damage as they can. For all the many lives that the ferocious vassal barbarians were able to take away on the ground however, they eventually get overwhelmed by the power and numbers of the orkoids. With all the native humanoids virtually defeated, the armored riders on horseback arrive to keep the flanks under control. Yet there are the potential problems of lances being firmly stuck inside the Slugga Boyz and the tough invaders themselves halting the full-on assault of the Falmarian cavalries. As for gaps in the battle formations, magical fireballs from the combat mages would do the job.

In hindsight, the vassal forces of 30,000 looked rather successful in keeping up the life-or-death struggles. Nevertheless, the medieval coalition is slowly losing military power to the relentless savages. On the contrary, the Orks are getting reinforcement in the form of thirty thousands bipedal beasts coming from the third giant ship to crash-landed - and well-armed Nobs from the other two ships in the thousands; which makes it an estimated total of a hundred thousand. To make matters worst for the indigenous army, over a thousand jump-packed Storm-boys join the fun by air; upon which they often perch onto wyverns, landing behind the allied formations, and sometimes on top of the shielded rows. Of course, the ork-made jump packs sporadically explode on impact or mid-air due to some uh... design flaws.

Ultimately however, the allied battle lines under pressure become disorganized mayhem. Several warriors flee for their lives, but most of the armed forces continue to fight as much as they can - including the conscripts, irregulars, and the kings and noble officers rallying them to give everything they got to the greenskins. Even so, the Falmarians were clear overmatched by the physical prowess and numerous mobs of the vicious Orks that are butchering much of the ever-decreasing opponents. Those not part of the dead from this unified army were a few riders on wyverns and horses that had already left the battlefield before the violent clashes had even begun; with warnings for their comrades near Italica to listen.

At a higher altitude in the sky, a surveillance drone from the wide military fortifications at Alnus/Arnus Hill has its camera pointed at the bloody confrontation and its subsequent aftermath... including two more enormous makeshift ships impacting very close to the previous dug-in vessels.

Forward a day in an African savanna of Earth....

A convoy of trucks and jeeps are traveling across the plains for a prize. Inside the vehicles are metal animal traps, chainsaws, high-powered rifles, and automatic firearms. Accompanying the automotive column are two helicopters, each with an armed passenger being carried. After driving for awhile, the men soon locate their preys: a herd of endangered elephants that noticed the flying crafts and immediately flee for their lives.

"This is Buzzard here, Boss. We have found our bonuses a mile away from your direction and no sign of any competitors here!" stated one of the chopper pilot.

The word 'lives' does not registered to the group of poachers. All that matters to the criminals is the potential jackpot they could get when delivering the banned tusks from the animals to clients still active in the Far East and elsewhere in the world. In order to retrieve such items, the poaching party would outright kill the African giants before cutting out their ivories.

"Eh, I bet our rivals were having a very, very bad day with those ghostly vigilantes. All of you fly boys, prepare to take your shots!" said the head of the group in the first vehicle up front.

Being ahead of the convoy, the sharpshooters within the choppers take aim at the elephants. Before a shot can be made however, the pilots notice four blue circular lights beaming at their rotorcrafts. Immediately, the flight controls and engines get electrocuted to oblivion.

"Oh... shit. Oh shit. AH SHIT! The controls are not responding! WE'RE GOING DOWN!"

With the electronic systems shut down, the now-disabled helicopters soon fall hard to the semi-arid terrain. The following group are baffled at what has happened to their two crashed birds and allowed two of the wheeled transports to search for any survivors and/or figure out the mysterious impacts.

"What an unbelievable thing to see," commented the group leader. "Alright gang, get your tools and weapons for the hunt and any surpri-"

KABOOM!

The available poachers in pursuit of the endangered species did not go much farther though, when the leading vehicles exploded into fiery heaps of scrap metal by several rocket-propelled grenades being fired in front of them (upon which those affected crews are outright dead or being burned alive). Instinctively, the other party exit their vehicles with weapons at the ready. Greeting them towards the humans' sides, on the other hand, are a couple of pinkish beams of light that slice through the legs of the criminal hunters and the wheels of the mechanical transports in one sway. The injured men scream in agony as cloaked figures appear almost out of nowhere (in part by deactivating their hi-tech invisibility). Several poachers try to open up their guns but the men's trigger arms were quickly shot to shreds by the assailants' futuristic energy firearms. A number beg the attackers to let them live as the concealed figures come closer to the wounded. Instead, the undercover party-crashers proceed to coldly tear apart what remains of their still-living bodies... piece by piece... through their superhuman, synthetic hands.

The same dreadful fate upon the condemned humans at the copter crash sites; now under attack by one squad of those covert killers per location.

"HELP! Can any human hear and help us?! ANYBODY?!"

Over a week later, around sunset...

On a Falmarian plain that was dozens of miles away from Italica, the military alliance of around 246,000 warriors had establish a defensive front for the incoming 'orc' hordes.

The pattern of the Army of Unified Kingdoms goes like this:

First/front row is composed of auxiliary beastmen such as orcs, goblins, pig-like susnoids, trolls, and ogres in the thousands. Second row belongs to the shield-holding soldiers/legionaries; while the third line is mainly archers and crossbow users. Behind the bowmen are the catapult artillery like the trebuchets and repeating ballistae, along with battle-mages to provide support on both ballistic devices and the arrow-throwers. Fifth and sixth rows are respectively similar to the second and third files, although the sixth row seemed to have armored bodyguards on horses, battle-mages and primitive 'cannons' embedded for the first time in Falmarian history. The last batch on the ground are the multitudes of various conscripted soldiers (not usually trained in shield-wall tactics), many unconventional warriors, and thousands of cavalrymen that includes the kings being prepared to fight. Of course, there also the thousands of knights on wyverns flying in the sky above the ground troops.

Regardless of this massive amount of force, the ruler of the Elbe chiefdom on horseback has concerning thoughts that lingered since the meeting with the dark-skinned woman and her undercover allies. 'To think that all of this enormous gathering of warriors was originally for the sole purpose of cleaning up the diplomatic mistakes made by the Imperial Senate and Emperor Moltor,' Dulan thought.

"Aren't you getting too old to think a lot, old friend?" Hadrian of Ligu asked while on his warhorse.

"Heh... maybe so, if it wasn't for someone as calculating as the emperor himself to do such foolish acts... or so said the dark elf woman."

"Ha,ha... I don't believe that her truthfulness seem to matter at this time. We'll defeat these invading orcs, march to Alnus Hill, and possibly enter Sadera as heroes of Falmart... or perhaps avengers for the Empire's mistreatment on our sovereignty."

"Hmm, no doubt about the severe reduction of the Imperial legions due to their failed um... 'expedition;' but I would be worrisome on how many orcs are coming into this continent that we called home."

"Well... if they're anything like the subservient beastmen here, then these animals would probably go charging at their preys without thinking. Regardless of whether these green-skins were in the hundreds of thousands or more, our superb training and discipline will triumph over such foul barbarians. As well as being properly fed from those mysterious food crates that appeared around this area, after we had stop and rest here obviously. Thus, I will find and give thanks to the ones being generous enough to provide such abundance."

"As long as we're being careful on the battlefield, war-brother."

"Eh, eh, I would suggest that you relax a bit more, King Dulan. It's surprising to see the Lion of Elbe being serious with the words spoken by an unknown stranger."

"What was even stranger about that woman is the possibility that I might had met her before."

"Huh... really? Surely you must be mistaken, right?"

"I don't know, actually. Yet her face somehow reminds me of a nomadic storyteller back in my youth."

"Oh... is that related to the story about a man with unknown magic who became a powerful but corrupt warlock that threatened an entire realm?"

"That also includes a supposed race of star-travelers and a female mage that paid the ultimate price for ending his evil reign. Call it a hunch, but I had a feeling that there at least a connection between past accounts of a wizard imbued in dark arts and the narrative described by that wanderer many years ago."

"Ha, ha, ha... what could you expect from elves with such wonderful longevity. And boy, would I have imagined on the many things that I could do if given such a gift."

"Although such desire would be irrelevant if one should die sooner than anticipated." The Elben king then spot a few allied scouts coming towards them. "Well, it seems that our horse riders have something to report."

Minutes later and with other leaders of the medieval coalition, the reconnaissance soldiers relay the news. "Sires! We have witnessed the barbaric hordes that are heading towards our position, although at a steady pace."

Dulan responded, "Then that means these orcs will arrive before sunrise. Soldier, how numerous are the vicious savages?"

"Uh-um-there... so many."

"I... did not understand. How does their numbers compares to our unified armies?"

"M-m-my lord, the invading armies are countless enough to possibly overrun our combined strength!"

Things doesn't quite look good for the royal leaders of the military alliance as daytime transitioned to nighttime.

Outside a multi-storied building within Italica meanwhile...

Two cloaked men comes out through the backdoor of the building they're staying in. Their routine on this early night is to familiarize again the layout of the city within its fortified walls. Whenever that's done, the duo will go to a meeting point designated for another covert team that are coming back from doing a task on a hidden location two kilometers away; and wait. In the meantime, the operatives look at the houses, merchant stores, inns, taverns, temples, fortified walls for this Countess's mansion, and other structures as they stroll the major crossroad of trade while blending with the urban area. Almost an hour forward, the covertly-clothed men are close to finishing the first exercise when they just spotted something off along an alleyway: two covered figures with humped backs interacting an unknown object while kneeling on the floor.

One whispered, "Uh... Soap, what were those bloody strangers doing over there?"

"I'm in the dark as well, Roach. Which means that we need to get a little closer to understand their goals here, albeit with caution though. Ready?"

"Ready to follow, sir."

"Hold on, let me relay this to Bravo Six." The cloaked 'supervisor' activate his small, sleek headset to quietly communicate his team leader. "Bravo-6 Actual, Soap here. Spotted some unidentified Tangos near the end of our undercover patrol. They don't looked Imperial though. Shall Roach and I investigate them, sir?"

A voice responded after a while, "Alright Bravo Six-11, you're clear to go. But don't get too close to the blokes at this time. Price, out."

The two agents proceed to silently approach the supposed newcomers in Italica. As the gap between them shortens, Soap and Roach spot some characteristics underneath the concealing clothes more clearly: green skins and a distorted language similar to... English, quite bizarrely enough.

"'Ow much longa on da fing?"

"Eh... a few partz dere... more tinkin' ova 'ere..."

As the stealthy humans got nearer to the bipedal foreigners, the pair almost pass a small intersection of alleys... when they hear someone from behind.

"Ahem!"

The two men turn around and see a dark-skinned woman wearing a green robe of 'elvish' design; within their personal space. The same person who had met the allied leadership several days prior.

"Did you gentlemen get distracted by something?"

After a number of seconds staring at her in confusion of her English, the undercover duo soon return their attention to the front... only to realize that the two green-faced figures are eyeing at them.

In addition of two more shady characters that were peaking their heads out of the nearby corners while holding big knives by hand... and having their faces being rather too close for comfort. Thus, the covert operatives got a dangerous look at the beastly facial features of these not-so-alien beings.

Everyone in the compact vicinity didn't make a move for a while - until the green humanoids decided to walk away from the space-less area and move elsewhere. Now alone, the duo look back at the lady with a slight smile.

A bugged Soap said, "Bloody hell I say, miss. You almost got us in grave danger when you compromised our concealment with your voice."

"Possibly so, Master Sergeant MacTavish. Although you and your pal here would have been ambushed at the urban crossing, if not for my vocal action or any other interventions to halt your untimely demise by the claws of Ork Kommandos."

"I'm sorry... orc commandos?" Roach noted what he just heard.

The lady verified, "That's correct, a fraction of the countless green-skinned invaders that appreciated the cunning aspects of their war-like nature."

The lower-ranked sergeant questioned with suspicion, "Are you sure that what you're saying to us were not made up beforehand?"

"Well, you could ignore my messages if you prefer to meet those clever barbarians up close and personal with your own eyes. Although that would put you gents at greater hazards in such a scenario." The woman see that the duo look at each other and then gazing towards her in neutral expression. "By the way, you two are getting a bit late in meeting with Team Metal from your ally's Army Delta units. Hence the suggestion from me to keep moving to that rendezvous point."

The special operatives skeptically peer at her, before the master sergeant gives a reply. "Ma'am... we not certain of following your hint right now."

"Oh... does that hesitation relates to how I knew about your identities and why the crafty Orks are more cautious of my presence?"

"Uh, yes... along with relevant knowledge being withheld from us. Now then... since you seem to want some foreigners moving away from peril, how about you going with us to our hideout and explain the serious issues of this land?"

In the new morning at sunrise...

"RUMBLE UP LOWD, 'U GITZ!" shouted the orkish voice coming out of all the speakers attached to the many Waaagh! towers that dotted across mobs upon mobs of greenskins. Simultaneously, heavy rock music are being played from those tall edifices now showing fires, electric arches, and lights.

In terms of battle patterns:

The first massive batch upfront was filled with Slugga/Choppa boys, 'Ardboys, and Gretchins in the tens of thousands; with only a very wide assortment of melee weapons. Second row was almost the same as the first enormous group, except for Nobs guiding the mobs of smaller orkoids. Third big batch consisted of CQC-oriented Nobs, Meganobs, Stormboys, and Killa Kan mechas. Behind that barbaric masses are walker divisions of Deff Dreads, killa kans, Mega Dreads, and Mad Dreads. Last but not least, the humongous reserves of all diverse combat units bunched together in disorganization (although the firearms and cannons from the Orks are not yet in use for this battle).

Eventually, the towering structures send out many fireworks to the air at the climax of the 'musical' sounds. Hundreds of thousands of the green-skinned savages shout out their signature battle cries for the Waaagh!; which quickly leads to a deluge of orkoids stampeding towards the Army of Unified Kingdoms. "STOMP DEM, LADZ!"

Disciplined and committed however, the archers, crossbowmen, and catapult artillery crews put their missiles on hold until the orks are within firing range. Once the foreign invaders are in reach, the long-ranged troops unleash their multiple volleys of lethal projectiles at the attackers in unison. Arrows and bolts virtually found their marks onto the enemies while boulders and flammable devices from catapults made collateral hits on the charging mobs.

Still, the durable greenskins keep on rushing to their congested targets. Confronting the first wave of orkoids are the native auxiliaries charging at them with clubs, swords, axes, and anything else available. Both collided each other and began attacking up close and personal. Nevertheless, the green humanoids are strong and countless enough to overwhelm the local demi-humans like orcs, trolls, goblins, and 'pig-men' despite their best efforts. Obviously, its the spear-wielding soldiers' turn to face the green tide. In any type of shield walls being utilized, the protected warriors manage to halt the momentum of the colossal bipedal swarm for almost an hour.

"Last one in, iz a runty squig!" Being rather bored however, the stormboys turn on their jump-packs to soar over the active front-lines... and slam onto the collection of bowmen. A small percentage of the rocket-powered barbarians did experience unfortunate malfunctions while in the sky, on the other hand.

Also lacking much patience are the mad-dreads that deploy their drills to dig underground. Those mechanized walkers continue to burrow below ground until they're approximately beneath the ballistic artillery units, which the mad-dreads soon pop out of the surface and start rampaging on their adversaries.

":What in gods' names has erupted upon us?!:" King Duran from afar noticed the smoke and dirt breaking out high to the air.

On one spot back to the catapult sectors, several mages unleash their enchanted fireballs at a mad-dread. The energized objects made contact on the ramshackle-looking 'golem' and burst into thick smokes. Sadly, not a dent has succeeded on the metallic armor of the large mecha and it (in turn) managed to grab a magician with its mechanical arm. The sizable drills surprisingly met resistance by the battle-mage's mystical barrier covering his body when just outright attack. The captured sorcerer tries a bigger fireball at the metal behemoth, which engulfed both of them in dark smoke. The combat magician remains alive... and so does the mad-dread that somehow thinks methodically - by slowly pressing one of the spinning drills onto the defense magic. Horrifically, the penetration to crack the personal barrier prove to be successful as the drill made a gory mess onto the mage's head. "BWAH, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA! STOMP 'U, STOMP 'U ALL!" The madden ork inside the metal monster throws away the dead body at the shield-packed troops in the rear. Suddenly, the mad-dread got a dent on its metal body by a solid ball that was launched from the first use of a cannon; followed by a few more projectiles at the barbaric giant from these medieval guns. All that ever did was to excite the orkoid into a frenzy for combat. "Da, ha, ha, ha! More 'umiez ta kill!"

As several of those maniacs in gargantuan metal frames charge forward at the legionaries in all directions, innumerable greenskins from the reserves (with little self-restraints) come out of the big tunnels made by the mad-dreads and immediately run riot onto the Falmarian troops. Stormboys bypassing the testudo/phalanx-style formations for the archers, bowmen, battle wizards, and artillery crews. Armored nobs, killa kan walkers, and even deff-dreads smashing through the native shield-bearing warriors. Lower-rank orks and gretchins in their usual, violent behaviors - sometimes going to the flanks of the Allied forces. All of the chaos that the unified warriors of Falmart/Falmarius had to deal with.

Recognizing the wide-scale situation, the military leaders assemble a counterattack that utilizes virtually all the reserves: cavalry, conscripts, and the royal leaders themselves. One large group, led by the commanders of Alguna, Mudwan, and Ligu, will assault one flank of the green barbarians and move onto the bulk of 'orcs' outside the main unified army. Also attacking the unaffected horde is the wyvern-based air cavalry. The other battle group, under King Dulan of Elbe and other leading nobles from different states, will take the other side and deal with the havoc on the interior of the allied forces.

Once the retaliation force is fully ready, the Elben authority leader ultimately gives the signal to charge. "To all valiant warriors of our homelands, follow me and praise Emloy for victory!"

Soon, all the cavalry units on horses go on the counter-offensive at the two affected flanks while the knights on wyverns make haste towards the innumerable savages not yet involved in the fighting. In some twist of luck, both separate forces of the medieval coalition pummel hard on the Orks attacking the army's sides. The more difficult parts however, are the hostiles in the interior of the Falmarian alliance formations and those that haven't yet participate the battle.

Several dragon-riders attempted to lance deff-dreads as targets... only to get forced out from their flying beasts by powerful inertia as consequences of trying to pierce the mecha armor; or through the actions by the orkish machines being glad to rip them apart with claws or buzz-saws. Hundreds of cavalry equines getting their legs seriously hurt when stomping hard or running over the gretchin-controlled walkers and 'ardboys; which often causes the riders to unexpectedly fall out from their steeds. Well-equipped nobs exerting their fearsome tools like Power Klaws and Big Choppas on their opponents, shielded or otherwise. Regardless of their training in archery or swordsmanship, the military power of the united vassal states steadily dwindles as the ruthless engagement continues.

Which relates to the commander from the Elbe kingdom, in combat with a meganob. The handcrafted sword of the king is having a hard time slicing through the tough defenses of this nob's exoskeleton. The human chieftain gives another attack on the armored monstrosity, but the high-ranking orkoid uses his left power-klaws to slam-swipe the warhorse underneath... and have the other claw-like weapon to grab the old king as he got injected out.

"Ha! Wazn't expectin' dat now do ya?" The meganob commented as the grabbed soldier futilely respond with sword blows on the exoskeletal arm.

":Err, must get - [incoming artillery sound] - huh?:" Dulan heard the strange soaring noise, while the big ork wondering where that indirect shell is going to land.

That inquiry is soon answered by a large explosive blast near their positions, and thus get tossed away in the air. The Elben leader was blown further away to crash within the battle arrangement of Falmarian bowmen, mages, and cannons. Nearby warriors converge on the nobleman out of great concerns and help him stand up.

":My lord, are you alright?!:"

"Ugh... I can still fight, fellow soldiers. How are the oth- [sound of another artillery round] oh no... SCATTER, MEN!" Shortly after saying the warning, a big explosion occurs close to Dulan. The destruction took away the lives of several soldiers... and the limbs of the commander's left body being propelled again by the blast. The wounded king come to the ground albeit yards away from the troops in combat.

A mage rides to the aid of his king... who is also his friend. Once there, the wizard did what he could to heal the Elben leader. ":You need to escape for Elbe's sake, my lord.:"

":What about the men of my home and allies, Jean?! I cannot leave them like - agh!:" Dulan expressed his concern while feeling the pain on his body.

":They all knew what are at stake here, my king. I will do my best to also get as many kings to their states alive as I can.:"

XXXXXXX

Far away from the battlefield is the green-haired lady on her steed; observing the 'medieval' clashes on a small hill, using a high-tech binoculars that relays visual information to the orbiting satellites above. This survey duty could be seen as her penalty for 'abandoning' the nearly 31,000 vassal warriors that she was supposed to be guiding towards Italica. So far, the Army of Unified Kingdoms is losing to the innumerable Orks despite the natives' strong commitment to fight. However, hundreds of warriors did flee in panic as the odds to defeat the greenskins are greatly against them. Might not be so for a few; like the small number of bodyguards that are diligently guiding their injured ruler to safety.

"[Whistle] Maybe I should feel more sympathetic for those vassal armies at this point."

Additionally, the female 'ranger' had spotted a bunch of orkish half-tracks attacking the active combat zone ( the medieval cannon emplacements at the present) with long-range artillery cannons installed on the flat beds of the improvised vehicles. Nevertheless, their accuracy is not so error-free since the shells sometimes landed on other orks.

Forty-five minutes later, the vassal alliance is seen to have around one hundred thousand troops gone - and now had to deal with deffkoptas using large buzz-saws. Oddly enough, the recon gal was feeling rather dull of seeing the violent brawl from afar (not that she wanted to get herself killed however). A trivial thought inside her head develops in a flash and she subconsciously blurt it out. "I wonder what has happened to my two rambunctious spy-mates that were expelled to um... somewhere. Haven't seen the charming pair for years at this time, although I may not be able to ever see them again."

Out of the blue sky at that moment, the lone woman heard chopping noises within her vicinity and in the rear. She redirect her attention to the audio source, which happens to be several tandem-rotor transport helicopters and cargo half-tracks carrying ork kommandos. Their drop point: the Folmari city of Italica.

Speaking of that urban center, an hour after sundown...

American and British special forces inside their secret hideout grimly watch the bloody conclusion of the battle between the green-skinned invaders and vassal defenders, thru state-of-the-art holograms on tables and real-life footage on some video screens. Accompanying them on the second floor are three unknown characters in covert outfits and the female 'dark-elf' that allowed the tech to be borrowed.

The captain with his peculiar mustache commented, "Oh bollocks, looks like we had to take serious measures concerning these gun-toting orcs sooner or later."

"How about we start with replacing the letter 'c' with a 'k' to make things easier to distinguish from the Falmarian orcs?" An undercover man code-named 'Mickey' with a futuristic plasma shotgun and a slung-over rocket launcher suggested.

"Never mind the misspellings, we humans from Earth are thinking more about the fate of this city."

Another out-of-placed agent with a hand-held heavy machine gun and shoulder-fired ion cannon provide an option. "Well... you guys could leave this place, can you?"

The Delta Force and SAS teams look at 'Dutch' with confusion before the US Army leader of Team Metal ask a question. "If so, is there some guarantees that the people here would be defended or evacuated to safety?"

The pseudo-mysterious guests give off a vibe that indicates some bad news. The dark-skinned lady sigh and answered, "It might personally work on me to conduct a greater endeavor to protect as many innocents as possible in either their defenses or evacuations... when it only applies to me though."

"Wait... just you?" The SAS commanding officer then receives a nod from the colored beauty. Immediately afterwards, he turn his sight on the escorting trio. "So what about you three over there? Did you see anything bloody wrong in saving the locals?"

For a while, the semi-revealed men contemplate on a reply. Mickey then answered, "Well, perhaps a bunch of us here kinda like the chance to feel good about doing ahem... 'heroic' deeds."

"A bunch? What do you mean by a bunch that could help them?"

"Uh... yeah, that group includes me, miss Thorayja among us, Dutch with his favorite weapon, possibly our team leader who is curren-"

The operative with a long-range rail-gun rifle interrupted, "Captain Price, let me say this bluntly: a significant majority of our vast military forces had little to no interest in the welfare of this city's inhabitants; or even the entire population of this continent."

"Technically speaking though, the whole planet is not ours to begin with and the landmass you're on is in a prolonged medieval stasis for millennia." The machine gunner added.

The American team leader 'Sandman' felt perplexed. "Did I understood correctly? That your armies will just leave the men, women, and children of Italica to their demise?!"

"Well... if I was over a thousand years old and couldn't see any remarkable changes within the knowledge and behaviors of the continental community in that timescale by themselves, then I might possibly be less considerable upon the unaltered lifestyles of the enchanted landmass." The woman with her ear-covered headwear conjectured.

"Madam, I don't think your heartless possibility for the future is helping us good guys to figure out why saving this city is not a primary plan." Sandman retorted.

"Hmm... regarding your insistent to be noble heroes, shall we look at the uncertainties following the aftermath of protecting this... strategic location?"

The British captain noted the 'clue' from the calm dame. "Something tells me that you people had already knew the importa-"

A voice from comm devices spoke, "This is Ghost Four Actual to Bravo Six or Team Metal, status report."

Sandman gets the signal from the SAS squad commander to radio back. "Metal Zero-One here, both teams have been notified of the Imperial vassals' defeat. We're currently in discussions with our guests on the options for Italica's fate, over."

"Roger that, Metal 0-1. Advise caution on uh 'Ork' intrusions at this point. Ghost 4 have just concluded our goals with third-party visitors for capturing the trading hub."

"Well that's surprising to hear, Ghost 4 Actual. Are we actually protecting the urban population here?"

"Not just their safety from those violent newcomers, we're also taking away a major breadbasket from the influence of this Saderan Empire. Even if occupying Italica doesn't lead to starvation within their capital city, our boys back in base would use this strategic area as a foothold and launching point for further operations against the Imperials."

"Sounds like good news, sir. I'll contact Gatekeeper about the intel. Anything else to relay, Rorke?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. There's additi- [static sound] kidnapped civili- [electronic crackling continued]"

"Ghost 4 Actual, you're breaking up. Can you repeat that, over?" All Sandman gets are hissing noises from the transmission device. He then hear gun clicks in the room and turn around to see almost every coalition soldiers pointing their firearms (without firing) at the four unknown guests, whose advanced weapons have just been set to arm and the lady's head now covered in a robed hood. Yet their targets are not what the humans from Earth were thinking.

Price demanded, "Ma'am would you mind telling us what the bloody hell got you all alarmed of a sudden?"

Before the female 'dark-elf' could answer, multiple explosions rocked the urban landscape. From an aerial perspective, several buildings inside the city walls are damaged, iron doors of the wall gates (except the one leading to Sadera/Sandera) are blown open, and sections of the stone-made fortifications have giant holes in them.

Very soon, the native residents of Italica hear a collective yet monstrous roar upon them: "WAAAAAAAAGH!"

In an instant, mobs of Ork kommandos came out of their concealment and begin the destruction of any living person in their sight (with sharp or blunt war-tools, firearms, and grenades). More of those sneaky barbarians are arriving to the fortress town by helicopters and cargo half-tracks.

Back in the SAS and Delta Force location, the special operatives are quite alerted by the exterior sounds of gunfire, detonations, civilian screams, and animalistic yells.

"Huh... I was wondering when those cunning greenskins are going to surprise this place," said the heavy machine gun user in a strange calm and wearing a protective helmet that seems to appear out of nowhere.

"If what you people have said to us rings true, then how much of this chaos is some part of an underhanded, grand plot of yours?" The British captain pronounced.

The dark-skinned woman placidly said, "Are you interested in the original plan that has no ork involved?"

Before a slightly stunned Price can answer, a ghost-masked soldier quickly opens the door from the inner hallway and gets several firearms aiming at him initially. The on-guard teams soon recognize their fellow combatant and lower down the guns; while the noises of combat in the building are apparent.

Lt. Gaz commanded, "Lieutenant Riley, speak."

"Everyone, we got ugly tangos on the first floor. All green and very mean. Soap and Roach are guarding the stair to this floor, along with some 'friends' to help them defend. We need to act now!"

"Alright men, clear out the hostiles down there!" The Special Air Service commanding officer ordered. As the soldiers go downstairs, the two British sergeants rain down bullets and grenades onto their orkish foes from improvised barricades while the covert 'allies' fire energy bolts from their advanced armaments instead. Still, the gun-wielding humanoids are resilient enough to survive one headshot from a 5.56mm rifle round and knowledgeable to use grenades and some form of cover. After several 'hot-potatoes' and the rest of the allied teams involved, the remaining kommandos retreat.

Some of the orkoids in the alleyway got blasted to gory pieces by a peculiar 'ranger' with a powerful 'revolver' loaded with explosive rounds as he reaches the building's entrance by foot. "Hey there, lads! Impressive with my kill-shots, right?!" The only answer he gets is the sound of wood crackling from the previous gunfight. "Um... uh-oh." The cloaked man run the other way before the damaged/destabilized support beams of the habitable structure collapse to the ground. The Americans, British, and the few futuristic 'rangers' on ground level were quick and lucky enough to not be buried by the unsupported sections, but now they had to find another way to go outside. Ironically, that recent pile of mess is rather shaped like a ramp leading to the floor (aside from a small gap between it and the second floor).

First group to utilize the 'opportunity' is composed of the 'secretive' yet suddenly armored agents of Team Alpha-Nineteen; with Dutch and Mickey taking action, while Romeo take sniper position inside what's left of the building. Sure enough, automatic fire from the kommando-comandeered apartment viewing the escape path is unleashed at the duo; which forced them to split for the sides of the pseudo-ramp. The marksman methodically aim and trigger his rail-gun at one adversary's head, resulting in the destruction of the greenskin's brain. "Target down!" He immediately finds another target inside the garrisoned insula and shoot with precision, drawing incoming bullets at him.

Captain Price and his squadmates just arrived on the secondary level when they witnessed the sniper changing position while under fire. "Situation report, marksman!"

The undercover sharpshooter heard him and said, "Hostiles have a clear view to shoot us from the taken apartment!"

Still out of sight, the British leader hand-signaled his team to halt. Next, he crouch and slowly move his assault rifle out of hiding; which gives a false impression that he's in an upright stance. Consequently, orkish gunshots wipe out the upper part of wall above John Price. "Well that's just bloody great!"

Romeo take aim once more... only to see and hear a big blast inside the barbarian-seized building that destroyed the outer wall for the second floor - and pushed out three Orks to the outdoors. Followed by discharges of bullets that left some greenskins on that floor being blown to pieces, plasma bolts ejected to the opponents on the third level, and later machine gun fire at ground level that explosively obliterate those kommandos getting up.

Dutch look at his 'lady-friend's handiwork. "Just in case you 'green' nimrods want to know, that was Vera's way of saying hi." Straightaway though, the gunner hears the sound of the damaged support beams losing their strength. He casually step some yards backward before the desecrated portions crumbles to the stone-paved surface.

The 'dark-elf' woman safely lands on the ramp-like pile from the third floor of the spec-ops' previous stay. Once the smokes and dusts diminished, she can clearly notice the covert explosive expert holding his shotgun... and a familiar critic with the deadly revolver... and a plasma auto-rifle just in case.

"Okay everyone, the barbarians have left the building!" The rather lighthearted ranger shouted the 'update'.

No applauds, however. Just silence... apart from the background of 'combat.'

"Or... what's left of this pre-industrial insula... and the mangled bodies that used to be uh..."

"Kaydin... just come down here, please." A slightly annoyed Tamari suggested as she points her fingers on the terra firma.

"Uh... sure thing, Tammy." The woman synchronously chuckle and shake her head a bit at the ranger's remark.

With all things quiet for the time being, the British and American teams carefully navigate down the ramp from the second floor. Meanwhile, Agents Buck and Washburne uses the still-intact stairs to convene with the female 'supervisor.'

"Quite a day we have here uh, 'highness.' Anyway, do these tourists wanted to get out of this upheaval?" asked the carefree 'gunslinger.'

"Aside from a possible withdrawal, can you tell the undercover visitors how to find the jamming contraptions in this urban battlefield?"

"Uh... hold on, showing them how to stop the Ork jammers that I had little to no idea where those ah, uh... now wait a minute, isn't that supposed one of our specialties for this turmoil?"

"Well, Lieutenant Buck, you did just received a job to protect these specialized 'Terrans' from serious harm." Thorayja soon pat his shoulder a few times with a smirk before she supernaturally jump onto an apartment's top roof and move out of sight.

Kaydin confusingly look at the SAS and Delta Force personnel. "Oh... 'kay... guess that means you poster boys are under the safeguard of this babysitter and his teammates here; for now at least. Ahem... so, have any of you soldiers noticed the disruption in telecommunications?"

"Yeah, we all do right here. Now quit bollocking around and tell us urgently on the bloody whereabouts of those jamming signals!" The British team-leader demanded.

"Oh sure, sure, I get the urgency. It's certainly, very important to understand that only the green-pigmented barbarians know their locations. Therefore, we need to find the Orks, kill them, and destroy those obnoxious gadgets to smithereens!"

Price is relatively displeased. "Hmm... another question for you."

"Go ahead, mister. This black-ops lieutenant here can answer your intrigues of me."

Well... that didn't sound right. "Seriously, you a lieutenant? How'd a muppet like you get to be made lieutenant?"

"Eh, what's a muppet you say?"

---

After reading the impressive chapters from 'The Janus Campaign' by user kiyone4ever, I am contemplating on potential re-editing for the possibility of a different form of English to arisen by chance, despite the odds... or somebody outside the enchanted continent to come in and teach the language (before the Gate opens again). The other options would be like letting the mutant dialect of Latin/Greek be the only one for communication... or have the magical portal to reopen every thousand years or so. Might be helpful to have some tips on what to recommend, as the status of the detained camp followers in this story is not quite solid at the moment.

Opinions on the battles being depicted here could give insights on what I might be missing.

11-9-2017: Changes to the African greed sequence.

1-14-2018: New scene about digging up unmarked 'graves.' It was quite inspired by what I read on the Battlefield: Gate Company thread at the SpaceBattles creative forums, supervised by user Dr. Doctor.