Hey everybody, so sorry about the wait. Little bit of what I've been up to, so I went and joined the Army, had to leave for basic and AIT. However, I am now at my duty station, settled in, and ready to write. So, without further ado, off we go.

Chapter 8: Dissent among brothers

Corporal Liam H. Tabor

The rest of the night had been filled with laughter. Sabrina, as sheepish as she was about it, laughed with them eventually. They continued to tease her for the rest of the night, even going so far as to nickname her Jumpy, which she reluctantly accepted.

The next morning, however, they weren't laughing anymore.

Orders were passed down, from someone with more stripes than Liam, that they were to take a nearby town which had been over run by Scarlet Hand the night before. The mood turned somber quickly as Black and Connors came back to report their odds of a successful mission.

Almost an entire battalion, dug in, defenses set up all around the town, twenty some odd tanks, and eight artillery guns. The Guardians were to storm the town, take it back, and secure a foothold in the north, allowing their forces to move through and reinforce the Guardians desperately holding the woods to the east and west.

The sun had barely risen as they loaded into the trucks. They weren't going to have any tank support, their tanks wouldn't be able to get through the forests. They could, however, go around the other side and come back down the large, dirt road leading back to the town. That meant it was their job to keep the Scarlet Hand busy until their own tanks arrived to give them support, much easier said than done.

"Pick a man," Miller was telling Sabrina "Stick to him, have a back up if he dies. Stay alive, above all else."

In response, Sabrina only nodded. Liam pitied her, in a way. She didn't have the stomach for war, nobody ever really did. He admired her bravery, however, as he knew, firsthand the kind of guts it took to sign up for something like this, especially after having witnessed it firsthand beforehand.

Despite all the doubts Liam knew she held in her head, she didn't show fear, and she didn't run. When the fighting started, she'd stood her ground with the rest of them and fought back, and that was all any of them could've ever asked from her.

The ride was quiet, and, when the trucks had finally stopped, Liam was wound tighter than ever. Platoon leaders began taking control of their men, moving them into position and getting ready to head through the woods towards the town. They were only a few miles deep, enough to conceal their movement as long as they stayed quiet.

"Puck, Liam," Connors barked "You're in the rear, once we get to the town, you'll be moving up with the Engineers, they brought enough bangalores to blow those obstacles five times, make sure they all find a mark."

"Roger." Puck nodded

They only had two Companies to work with, enough to get the job done if they fought hard enough, but nothing more. Liam's personal opinion was that Charming was a real idiot, and the fact that he'd been readily given a position as General angered him. Sure, in the past he'd lead armies but he'd never fought this type of war, and it showed. He seemed to think bravery and the spirit of men would win battles, not resources and numbers. While it was true that had proved successful in the past, it wasn't always the case, and Charming preferred to keep the majority of his forces close by, so he had plenty of men to stand between himself and the bullets if it came down to it.

Charming hadn't fought with them during their campaign in South America, he hadn't been there when they'd lost Antarctica, or when they'd taken Australia. No, the only thing Charming proudly boasted as accomplishments were the countless slaughters he'd ordered them into in Ferryport Landing.

It's much easier to think you're winning when you're not personally watching your men die.

The first three platoons moved out and headed left, leaving the rest of their Company to head to the right. They moved into the woods, spacing out as much as they could without losing sight of eachother in the dense foliage. They moved in silence, each of them harboring their own private thoughts on the suicide mission that they were being sent into.

The walk there would take just under an hour at the pace they were moving, and Liam wondered, briefly, if the Scarlet Hand had booby-trapped the woods. He wouldn't be surprised, there were plenty of spots to set up tripwires or proximity charges.

At twenty seven minutes, however, plans changed drastically.

As their company moved into a large, open clearing, every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Quickly, he took a look at everything in front of him, taking in the scenery in just a split second. Across the clearing, there was a large, dirt mound, trees fallen down on either side of it.

Just before all hell broke loose, Liam was thinking to himself how that's exactly where he'd put a machine gun crew if he was commanding the defense of the valley.

He threw himself to the ground behind a small mound of dirt just as the first burst hit their lines, dropping the three men in the front. Everybody scattered, barking orders and trying to get everybody organized to return fire. Liam poked his head out and fired a few rounds before ducking back down. By now, he could see the tracer rounds flying over their heads and shredding the trees behind them, sending splinters of wood everywhere.

"Set up that gun!" Somebody screamed "Get a damn medic over here, now!"

Liam dragged himself to his feet and took off towards the voice, pulling out some bandages as he did so. Behind a large boulder, there was a Lieutenant crouched down next to a PFC, the LT trying his best to stem the flow of blood pouring from his chest.

"I've got him from here, sir!" Liam called to him as he slid behind the boulder "Get back in the fight!"

"I kinda liked being behind cover." He remarked with a grin, rushing off to find a better fighting position

Liam could hear the bullets smacking against the boulder and kicking up dirt behind them as he went to work on the wounded soldier in front of him. Using his knife, he pried the bullet from hist chest and quickly began stuffing it with gauze, but they were soaked with blood faster than he could put it on.

"Hang in there, buddy," He told him "Stay with me, we've almost got it."

"Arrggghhh!" He cried out "Dammit, that fuckin' hurts, man."

"Did you expect getting shot to feel good?" Liam laughed as he finally managed to stop the bleeding

"No," He coughed as Liam wrapped a bandage around his chest "But I expected them to just kill me with the first one."

"Stay here," Liam told him, propping him up "I'll come back and check on you."

He nodded, grimacing as he adjusted himself, and Liam took off towards a fallen tree where Jax, Black, Harris, and Sabrina were taking cover. To her credit, Sabrina looked as fearless as he'd been told she was. Barely even flinching as rounds passed over her head or hit the tree in front of her.

"How ya'll looking?" Liam asked, patting up and down Sabrina's leg "Anybody hit?"

"They grazed my calf!" Sabrina called back to him, indicating to her opposite leg "I'll be fine for now, get to the others first."

"Liam!" Black snapped "Help Harris with that damn radio!"

"I never worked with these models," Harris told him as he ducked next to him "I don't know how they work!"

"Should already be tuned in," Liam noted, fiddling with the dial "I'll give you a rundown if we make it out of this, make sure this dial stays turned this way, that's your problem."

Liam laid all the way down as more rounds passed over their heads, splintering the trees behind them. Harris fiddled with the dial for a second and then punched in some numbers on the keypad before finally grabbing the headset.

"Cobra four, this is Sabre one six, how copy, over!"

"Good copy, Sabre one six," A voice Liam recognized as Sergeant Beacher from Charlie company answered "What the hell's going on over there, over?"

"We've been ambushed, I say again, we've been ambushed!" Harris called "We're not sure how many, we need support now, over!"

"I copy, Sabre one six," She responded "We're heading your way, Cobra four out!"

Again, Liam moved from cover and headed over to where a wounded Guardian was lying on her back, completely exposed, multiple wounds in her stomach and legs. She was hacking and coughing so loud that he could even hear it over the gunfire, or, at least, he could imagine the sounds she was making. She looked bad, and he wondered if she'd even make it, sure didn't look like it. Regardless, he hooked his arms under hers and gripped his hands, bracing them against her chest for momentum and began dragging her backwards.

Long ago, he'd stopped fearing death, too long to even remember a time when death was something to fear. It didn't mean that Liam wanted to die, but, the way he figured it, if it was his time to leave the world, it wasn't going to matter if he was behind cover or out in the open, something would take him.

That didn't make his nerves any less rattled as bullets whistled through the air around him. For what seemed like the thousandth time, he found himself amazed he was even alive as he dragged the wounded girl into a hole and ducked his head down.

As he went to work trying to stem the flow of blood from her multiple wounds, he saw green begin emerging from the other side of the wood line, firing onto the Scarlet Hand soldiers at the edge of the clearing who'd been tearing them to shreds.

"Move up!" Connors was yelling "Their suppressed, move up!"

Liam continued to work, watching the rest of the Guardians move up out of the corner of his eye. He knew the mission was failed, after the casualties caused by the ambush, they had nowhere near enough forces to take the town, they'd have to come back and try another day.

He was just contemplating where to start stacking the wounded and the best way to get them back to base when the first artillery shell struck the ground.

Unit 762

"Sir," 762 reported "Squads two and three just radioed back, they've made contact. The rest of the Guardians are out of the woods and in the open."

"They're in the kill zone then?" Atticus asked

"Affirmative, sir," 762 nodded "As soon as you're ready, I'll tell the men to break contact."

"That won't be necessary, Sergeant," Atticus told him "Begin firing immediately, I want those Guardians eliminated."

"But, sir," 762 protested "Our troops are still in the kill zone, we'd be firing on our own men."

"Did I ask where our troops were?" Atticus snapped, rounding on him "I could've sworn I gave you the order to fire."

"You did, sir," He nodded "But-"

"But nothing!" Atticus barked "Your orders were to fire the guns, and wipe out the Guardians in our kill zone."

"Sir, with all due respect-" 762 began again

"You already disrespect me by not having already carried out the order I have given you," Atticus growled "Insubordination is punishable by death, Sergeant, need I remind you."

For a moment, 762's resolve shook, and he almost relented. The image flashed through his mind, and entire company executed by a firing squad just a few days before after retreating from the valley of Red Snow, their orders had been to take that valley or die in the attempt, to come back and report mission success or not at all.

Rather than executing the officer who gave the order to fall back, Atticus had rounded up his entire company, executing his wounded men first, then the rest of his soldiers who were still standing, before finally putting a bullet in the company commander's head.

As much as the image shook him, it also strengthened his resolve of why he needed to stand up to Atticus, to let him know they his men were not expendable just because Atticus viewed them as so.

"I do not need reminded, sir," He said, staring back with determination "But, under regulation fifty three dash six five, wasting your resources and men is also punishable by death. As a matter of fact, with the regulations you yourself wrote, nearly everything except breathing and killing is punishable by death. I cannot allow you to throw the lives of my men away."

"What did you just say to me?" Atticus demanded

In a flash, 762 pulled his pistol from his side and leveled it at Atticus, glaring with hatred. He was almost tempted to simply end him right there, but he knew that wouldn't win him any favors. He needed to convince everybody else of what he knew, otherwise, Atticus would weasel his way out of a proper execution, the same way he'd weaseled himself into a position of power in the first place.

"I'm placing you under arrest, General," He snarled "For violation of regulation fifty three dash six five, endangering your men and unnecessarily wasting resources."

"Are you now?" Atticus asked, a small smile creeping to his face

In a flash, he had closed the distance between the two of them. 762 fired a round, but Atticus hit his wrist, sending his shot up into the air. For a moment, they struggled over the weapon, and it seemed, just for a second, like 762 was winning, before Atticus planted a solid elbow into his rib cage, forcing him to loosen his grip on his gun.

Atticus wrenched it away from his hand, stepping back in the same motion and, without hesitation or mercy, firing the entire magazine into 762's chest.

As he fell, he cursed himself for not just ending the man. He'd have been executed for treason, but he'd have saved countless numbers of his men. But, now, Atticus would simply walk out and make 762 out to be a traitor who'd tried to assassinate him, and he'd continue sending men to their deaths.

"The Guardians are in our kill zone!" He cried, stepping over 762 and outside the tent "Fire all batteries, and somebody come clean up this mess!"

With those final words, he left 762 to die, choking on his own blood.