Chapter One: Routine Change
Cox Bazar, 20km from Command Post Sbādhīnatā
14th Peacekeeper Company, 3rd Platoon
[Duty: Patrol] 1030 Hours
A convoy of three vehicles moved across a dirt road on a routine patrol. As tensions between the native Rohingya people and the Burmese government began to increase, more martial actions from the United Nations had to be taken lest they see a repeat of the Holocaust once more.
Lieutenant Travon Clarke had been recently assigned to 3rd Platoon after the previous lieutenant was shot in the neck by an armed Burmese man who proclaimed to the unit about his stance on the crisis. As they cruised on he pulled out his binoculars and scanned the area. Even at the peak of morning there were smugglers who required to be 'assisted' out of the premises or Rohingya people who needed a lift or directions to the Refugee Camps.
Lieutenant Clarke sees a suspicious vehicle, before he could reach for his radio another voice speaks from the device.
"Vic, 600 meters, west."
Picking up his radio Lieutenant Clarke replies "Copy, Globe 4-1, eyes on the truck. Convoy move to intercept."
As they closed the distance, Lieutenant Clarke grabbed the mic of the loudspeaker attached onto the Ural truck to get the truck to stop. "This is the UN Peacekeepers, stop your vehicle now!"
As the convoy of 3rd Platoon began to turn in the direction of the unknown cargo truck, it began to gain speed and turn towards a different direction in haste. Lieutenant Clarke knew he had to do something to make the truck stop, or increase speed. Seeing that the Swedish Strf 9040A would not be exactly able to catch up immediately with both the Ural 4320 and MAN SV trucks even on flat terrain made the choice obvious.
"Globe 4, this is Globe 1-1, go for a disabling shot on that truck, hit the engine or the wheels." Lieutenant Clarke says into the radio as he checks the magazine of his M4 Carbine. The rifle only had a simple red dot sight, something he was able to bargain for with the quartermaster only recently.
"Globe 4 copies, going loud.'
Thanks to the stabilizer of the Strf 9040A the IFV had fired on the move instead of stopping. The methodical thumps of the 40mm Borfos autocannon sent sabot rounds down range. The first three had hit the dirt near the cargo truck, however even when these missed shots were intended to be a warning shot the truck refused to stop. So the next salvo was calculated to hit the truck. As soon as the first salvo stopped the second one came to life. The first round tore through the engine block, leaving a gaping hole in the truck, the second round found its new home in the right front wheel, breaking the axel completely, the third round had definitely hit the transmission itself, however it was hard to tell as by then the truck began to skid to a halt.
"Globes 1, 2, and 3 are to close the distance and disembark, Globe 4 assume overwatch position."
Sounds of confirmation rang out as they began to close the distance. However they could see that the occupants of the truck had jumped out, faces covered. Normal thing to do when your ride had been shot up, however one of them had pulled out an AK assault rifle variant but did not aim it at them, rather began to assume a defensive stance.
Finally closing the distance, Lieutenant Clarke had hopped off along with the rest of the squads. His intentions were simple. Find out why they didn't stop at the warnings, the purpose of them being here, and what their real intentions were.
"Good morning friends, why did you not stop at the first two warnings? Do you not understand Bangladeshi, Burmese, or English?" Lieutenant Clarke says as he walks up to the trio of men.
"You shoot us! You all mad!" one of the men says as he points at the damage done to the front of the vehicle.
"It was rather drastic, yes, I shall speak to my men after this." Lieutenant Clarke admitted. "But what business do you have here, friends?"
The three men tense up for a moment, however the man furthest from them racks the bolt of his Kalashnikov and attempts to raise it at them, however a Pakistani and Swedish peacekeeper raise their rifles at him before he was able to aim it at their commanding officer.
"Friends, friends! No need for guns, just tell me why you are here and I will wait here with you and call for repair services. Fair is it not?" Lieutenant Clarke says, having a bit of a commanding tone.
For a moment they think, until one of them, the largest of them and perhaps their leader speaks up, "We bring people, scared run away people. Go to big camp."
Lieutenant Clarke wanted to let them go but it was risky, he had to do something. "Sergeant Sheikh, please check the back."
Protest shoots up from the trio to not have the Pakistani Sergeant check the back, however 4 other peacekeepers come forth to stop them physically. As Sergeant Totuk Sheikh, a fairly tanned man with a short boxed beard, lifted the tarp, it was obvious these men were smugglers. In the back he saw a plethora of contraband. Alcohol, guns, drugs, etc. if it was banned in many countries for various reasons, it was in there.
However it was how the things were arranged that made it questionable. The contraband was only halfway through the truck. Calling for the help of two other peacekeepers, Sergeant Sheikh began to move away boxes and containers until one of them fell inwards to reveal people hidden behind the wall of contraband, along with two armed men.
Slowly backing away from the back, one of the armed men moves to subdue the Sergeant, however a crack in the air rips through the masked man on the leg causing him to fall out and Sergeant Sheikh to subdue him on the ground. Assault rifle fire barks through the back of the truck, luckily not hitting any of the peacekeepers in the process.
Lieutenant Clarke punches the closest man in the trio and begins to subdue him as well while the four others handle the two. As the firing stops one of the peacekeepers near the back of the truck raises their rifle and fires a burst into the last armed man in the truck. Realizing one of the people could've been hit instead Sergeant Sheikh was about to lash out in anger, however seeing as to how the automatic fire did not continue he hopped back inside to see that the armed man was indeed the one who was shot.
"You are lucky, Axelsson, you hit the one with a rifle." Sergeant Sheikh says relieved.
"Get the zipties and put them in a line, they are under arrest." Lieutenant Clarke furiously says as he aims his M4 at the four men while they have their hands ziptied.
Walking back to the Ural, Lieutenant Clarke adjusts the long range radio and picks up the receiver. "Central, this is Globe Lead, we have encountered smugglers carrying contraband and committing human trafficking of Rohingya people. We are requesting for pick up for the victims and apprehended offenders. How copy, over?"
"Globe Lead, this is Central. Sending air assets to handle the rest of the situation. You may leave once they arrive. Over."
"Copy, Central. Over and out." Lieutenant Clarke puts the receiver back and walks back to the group.
"You! Jamaican! I give you good drink, maybe even one woman, prettiest, sexiest one, yes?" one of the smugglers bargains.
"Do not even attempt that, I do not care much for your bargains." Lieutenant Clarke replies as he signals for all Globe elements to set up a defensive perimeter.
20 minutes later the sound of helicopter blades could be heard some distance away. Bringing his binoculars to bear he could see the outline of an Mi-8 helicopter, one painted in white and bearing the markings of the United Nations. As it landed the occupants disembarked and began to take over, by then it was time for 3rd Platoon to leave, but not before an American walked up to Lieutenant Clarke to relay orders.
"Lieutenant, orders from the top. The 14th Company and all its elements are going on extended patrol, we've brought some… camping gear if you could call it that."
Notioning for someone to grab the gear he replies "What are the parameters for it?"
Hauling a medium sized crate out of the Mi-8, the American peacekeeper hands it over to one of the sergeants of 3rd Platoon. "Extended to 60 kilimeters, satellite images show a large mass of Rohingya refugees heading this way. At their distance and speed Central says they'll reach you fellas by 0800 hours tomorrow. You're to secure the perimeter and escort them once you make contact."
"Understood, I'll verify with Central once we hit the road." Lieutenant Clarke climbs back into the cab of the Ural and soon leaves after distributing the supplies between the unit.
Cox Bazar, 20km from Command Post Sbādhīnatā
14th Peacekeeper Company, 3rd Platoon
[Duty: Extended Patrol] 1830 Hours
As they continued their patrol the winds began to pick up, and fast. It was welcoming at first, but as sand particles and small pebbles began to be sweeped up by the wind, it became concerning. Lieutenant CLarke knew they had to stop and set up a camp of sorts for now. Reaching for his radio immediately was his first move.
"Globe 1 Lead to all Globe elements, we need to hunker down now."
The convoy began to move into position, forming a U shaped encampment to defend against the harsh wind whilst they began to set up harsh weather tents. Some people had opted to sleep in the vehicles, especially the crew of the Strf 9040A so they could get into their action stations immediately if needed.
"Sir, we can probably make it to Outpost Dragon in bloody fast time if ye askin' me. We'd be a lot safer 'ere too. Actual buildings and all." Sergeant Ruadhán Linehan, a man with ginger hair, blue eyes, and a clean shaven face says as he helps the lieutenant in passing out MREs.
"I would like to as well, however I do not want to risk brain damage and ending anyone's career, Linehan. Go eat up, and rest up, no one is dumb enough to go out in weather like this." Lieutenant Clarke assures his sergeant.
"That's the thing, sir. There's no weather anomalies 'ike this in Bangladesh, it doesn't make sense, sir." Sergeant Linehan protests.
"Don't worry Irish friend, we'll be fine. No genocidal person or the refugees would be mad enough to take this weather on. They too will have to stop and rest." Lieutenant Clarke says as he covers his face with a cloth to prepare to make the short trip back to his tent.
"I just hope those civvies 'ill be fine, sir." Sergeant Lineman prepares to open the tarp of the truck since he decided to stay in it for the duration of the storm.
However what they stepped into would change the worlds of two places.
Location Unknown, ERROR
14th Peacekeeper Company, 3rd Platoon
[ERROR] Time Unknown
Lieutenant Clarke woke up and began to stretch from inside his tent. Rubbing out the sleep from his eyes, his next move was to refresh himself by grabbing his canteen and drinking from it. Like the routine he normally went on during extended patrols he unzipped the flap of his tent, stepped out, and poured the water on his head and face.
Grabbing a towel from inside he wiped his clean shaven head and face, but realized something was wrong. The air smelt stale and it was a few degrees colder. Removing the towel made him only stare at the metal strut a few meters away from another tent.
The construct had six struts of dull gold with a hint of bronze like material, all connecting at the top to some metal rings which looked like a tesla coil. A very ornate and rich looking glass ball was in the middle which shifted colors from time to time, and it covered the whole perimeter of the camp.
Him and his unit were now in some underground city that was abandoned. Light came from both an orange globe like structure and the tendrils of jellyfish looking-plant life perhaps? Surrounded by stone buildings to their left and right along with a water source to their rear. It felt surreal, like a dream, but the fact that he felt everything in vivid feeling, Lieutenant Clarke knew this wasn't a dream.
"Everyone up! Now!" Lieutenant Clarke yelled as he grabbed his M4 and began to rustle the tents of the others, running towards the vehicles and furiously pounding at their metal exteriors.
Peacekeepers emerged and soon saw and realized that they were not in Bangladesh anymore. Some showed they were scared and confused, others were in awe, but most were just plain confused at it all.
Sergeant İbrahim Şÿrÿfaddinsoy, a dark skinned man with an oval shaped head and stubble going down from the sideburns down to the chin, already awake and out of his trance, made his way to the lieutenant. The Azerbaijani man scowled slightly at the predicament.
"Lieutenant Clarke, where the hell are we?" questioned the sergeant.
More and more peacekeepers also began to assault the lieutenant with questions of their own. It looked like the group was about ready to fall and split off into individual members, but they were in an unknown place and fighting each other did not seem like a grand solution.
"Friends! Friends! Let us calm down!" Lieutenant Clarke yelled, although with his hands in a gesture meant to calm them down.
"First and foremost we need to establish watch duty and mess duty. We need to be alert so Globe 1 is going to set up a perimeter 20 meters from here, Globe 3 is going to go and get MREs to distribute and count what's left. Globe 4 is to assist me in communications, their APC has an equally powerful radio. Globe 2 is to set up an interior perimeter in the camp. Are we clear?"
Murmurs of agreement bellowed out and went ahead to go and perform their assigned tasks. Finally having a sense of direction however made them pick up the pace of their tasks eventually.
Lieutenant Clarke went inside the Strf 9040A, finally clad in his plate carrier, he began to operate on the long range radio while another Swedish crewman operated the short range radio.
Switching over to another known UN Peacekeeper frequency Lieutenant Clarke depresses the speak button. "This is Globe Lead to Central, come in Central."
Waiting for a response that was never coming, he was only greeted by static, but he tried again. "To any and all UN Peacekeeper callsigns, this is Globe Lead, does anybody copy?"
Static.
Finally surrendering temporarily, Lieutenant Clarke puts the receiver down and looks to the Swedish crewman using the short range radio. "Did you get anything, friend?"
Swaying his head telling him no Lieutenant Clarke left the APC to were in a strange world, with no communications, no backup, and limited supplies. They were underground most likely which means they had a way up, but the fact that where they are is abandoned could mean whoever or whatever lived here is dead and so could whatever above the surface be dead as well.
There was only one choice.
"Globe 2 gather around." Lieutenant Clarke called for his personal squad.
The men and women gathered around him in a semicircle. "We are in uncharted territory friends, we need to find clues on two things, who or what lives here, and a way to the surface. We also need to relocate the camp and vehicles as well. We'll address the relocation first."
After a few minutes the peacekeepers began to pack up and move further from the construct, they had already gathered that the construct had most likely brought them here, or they were kidnapped and placed in an unknown underground city by some angry, genocidal Burmese people.
In the next hour the squad sent to scout the area headed out and to check the buildings ahead. They went armed and ready in case what and who they found were hostile.
"We're underground, you think we're gonna find Dwarves down here?" Private Solomon Watts, a thin man, dark haired man fresh out of bootcamp, commented as he ran through an inspection of his L85A2.
"I don't know. Maybe we'll find your father here instead." Private Sven Magnusson, an athletic, blonde man with blue eyes and a cut over his lip, replied as he fed a fresh ammunition belt into the Ksp 90, the Swedish version of the M249 SAW.
Solomon was about to protest in rage, however decided against it, earning the notice of Corporal Ham Sang-Hoo, a man with a square shaped face whose cheek bones protrude giving depth to his face. "Shit, looks like the Brit can actually learn patience." Hoisting his Daewoo K2 assault rifle from its sling.
"Cut the chatter, we're moving now." Sergeant Totuk Sheikh ordered, lifting his Type 56 assault rifle at the ready stance.
Walking down along what they assumed was a path, Globe 2 could see more and more of their surroundings. Taking a left they decided to split up into two groups to search the buildings. Inside they find ornate masonry mixed with the same dull gold, bronze tinge like metal from the construct.
Kneeling down to check a weird box, Private Clayton Grey, a man with a square face, white hair, and looks very akin to the former Prime Minister Churchill, slings his FAL with a 8x magnification sight behind him, a man with the frame of a bodybuilder, examines it closer. "Think if we bring this back we'll be rich, Magnusson?"
Laughing, Magnusson replies. "Try lifting it then."
Private Grey proceeds to jokingly lift the box, only to open it. Having been startled both lifted their weapons to bear, only to see that the box had contained items.
Private First Class Anne-Marie van der Wel, a platinum blonde haired woman, with freckles, and a beret, checked on the two, with her shorter than usual HK416 checked in on them. "What happened?"
Checking the stone box they find a dagger of the same metal as the ones outlining the box and some gold coins.
"We found some stuff, we can use it to trade." Private Magnusson lifts with a wide smile.
"Stop fucking around and check the next building." Private van der Wel yells to get them in gear and do their job.
After a few minutes of searching the group was able to collect a few weapons, a small pile of gold, and a few gems. They were about to continue their search until Private Hwang Yeo-Jin, a fair-skinned woman with chestnut eyes, dark brown curly hair, and a flat nose, stopped the group and raised a hand to her ear. "Do you hear wings flapping?"
Private Watts looks to the right and sees an insect flying, thinking it's close to him he swats it out of the air, only to realize it was never that close. Raising his L85A2 to look down the ACOG sight, he sees it is much larger than anyone thought.
Before he could say anything a liquid jet lands near Sergeant Sheikh, causing him to look to the source of the liquid and see multiple black insects, no larger than a German Shepherd advancing towards them.
"Open fire!" Sergeant Sheikh yells as he determined moments ago that these were feral and only had violent intentions.
Weapons began to bark out lead and death as they fired upon the hostile insects. The insects fall down in small groups and cease to move as the peacekeepers eventually get the distances correct and begin to fire in more accurate bursts after discovering on the go how many rounds it takes to kill one.
More and more begin to show up, however a trio of the flying insects blindside Private van der Wel. Spotting them she takes the first one out with a precise five round burst, however seeing that the remaining two are too close she switches the fire selector to full auto and the second one is riddled into many different pieces.
However the last one makes it through and its legs grasp her face, causing her to fall down. Everyone was busy fending off a hoard thus leaving her to fend for herself. Punching the insect where the eyes were bought her time to pull the Kukri knife from her plate carrier and stab the insect multiple times in the abdominal area. Having ceased movement she throws the carcass off of her and goes back to fighting.
"Private Madsen! Contact Globe Lead! We're falling back!" Sergeant Sheikh orders as he fires his Type 56 assault rifle.
Private Leon Madsen, a man with dark brown hair and a large body, slings his Colt Canada C8 Carbine to the side and reaches for his radio. "Globe Lead, this is Globe 2-4, we've made contact with hostile fauna, we are falling back to the camp, over!"
Lieutenant Clarke hears the message and picks up the radio. "Copy Globe 2-4, fall back in an orderly fashion, do not delay!"
Looking over to the Strf 9040A he notions for them to move up to the front of the camp. Sergeant Allan Drakenberg, a tall, brown haired man, with callouses dotting his hands sees this and closes the commander's hatch. In moments the engine of the IFV roars to life and lurches forward.
Adjusting his seating position and putting his helmet back on he addresses the crew in Swedish. "Gunner, load high explosive, husband your rounds."
As the rest of Globe 2 makes a break for it, they eventually stumble across the sight of the IFV. Seeing that they have fire support to their front, and the hostile insects to their rear, they only had one choice.
"Hit the dirt!" Sergeant Sheikh yells, causing everyone to get down.
The 40mm Borfos autocannon methodically fires its explosive ordinance down range. The insects crawling on the ground get thrown into the air, those sustaining direct hits cease to exist. Those flying are shot down by the other elements of 3rd Platoon when the IFV does not have its autocannon pointed upwards.
As the casings of the 40mm Borfos jump out of the IFV, it stops for a solid three seconds allowing the rest of Globe 2 to run back to the safety of the group. When the fire continues the shells do not impact the ground but instead explode mere centimeters away from the insects, causing more effective damage to them, parts are torn off by the continuous shockwaves, some even outright turning them into liquid like states as shockwaves smash them together.
Eventually all the insects stop moving, no more come again for another attack. The elements of 3rd Platoon go and see the carnage of battle. What had formed in front of the Strf 9040A was a wall of carcasses covered in green, oil like liquids.
Corporal Christoffer Bæk, a man with a fit for running body, and brown curly hair lays down his Colt Canada C8 Carbine on the ground and examines one of the bodies. He touches and plays with it in a scientific manner. "Lieutenant, do you have a moment?"
Lieutenant Clarke walks up to him and kneels down beside the medic. "What do you need, friend?"
"This liquid looks like it could be poisonous, and Private van der Wal seems to be covered in it."
Lieutenant Clarke looks over to her and sees what the Danish medic means. "Are you saying she could be poisoned, friend?"
Corporal Bæk nods. "With the reprieve maybe I can run a few tests see if she's still fi-"
An arrow lands near the insect carcass Corporal Bæk was examining, to see a wrinkled white creature perched on a rock. Only for another one to land.
"Take cover!" Lieutenant Clarke yells as he rushes Corporal Bæk to a nearby rock as well.
"Fucking Gollum is shooting at us!" Corporal Bæk yells as he aims his carbine at the creature and takes it down in a four round burst.
As other elements of 3rd Platoon hid behind rocks, they failed to realize the flanking maneuver of the white, hunched creatures. In an instant five peacekeepers find themselves host to arrows and large icicles, which one has surprisingly penetrated both the kevlar vest and the plate carrier. However being the stubborn men and women that they were they were able to alert the rest of the group to the impending danger.
"Globe 4, bring the guns to the back! That's where most of them are concentrated!" Lieutenant Clarke relays from behind cover.
"Copy Globe Lead, we're moving." The Strf 9040A shot to life once again, circumnavigating the camp and running over a few of the creatures that got too close and in the way of its path.
Coming to a halt the only thing Sergeant Drakenberg could hear from inside was the pinging sounds of items colliding with the armored hide of the vehicle, causing an unknown symphony of metallic clinging to play throughout the IFV. Switching to the IR sights of the vehicle he could see the white outlines of the advancing hoard, not as many as the hoard of insects from a while ago but still as many to pose a major threat.
"My God, there's so many." Sergeant Drakenberg comments in Swedish
We've expended ¼ of our high explosive rounds." The gunner comments, never taking his eyes off of his sights.
"What about the proximity fuse?"
"Down to half."
"Switch to the coaxial when the horde thins out."
The horde didn't fade out, in fact it only seemed to increase. Lieutenant Clarke was already down to half his ammunition and probably most of the unit is already at the same predicament. If the IFV runs out of munitions, odds are they will be overwhelmed and die in an unknown place, known back in their world as soldiers gone rogue or Missing in Action. He was willing to take one hell of a risk underground.
"Globe 4, shoot the stalagmites above the formation!" Lieutenant Clarke yelled into his radio.
"What?! Are you out of your mind Globe Lead?" came the reply back.
"If you want to go home, friend, we have to survive and take that risk." replied back Lieutenant Clarke amidst returning fire.
A silent moment came by for a moment, Lieutenant Clarke was ready to accept either expending all his ammunition or dying. Until a reply came back "Complying with orders, Globe Lead, we're going to make it home."
Inside the Strf 9040A Sergeant Drakenberg relayed his orders in his native tongue. "Gunner! Shoot the stalagmites up top!"
"Are you mad?!"
"Do you want to make it back home?"
"Fuck!" came the reply as the gunner jerked the stick to point upwards, causing the autocannon up as well.
The methodical firing continued towards the stalagmites, praying that it won't cause the whole place to collapse. After a few seconds the rocks came falling down, crushing the majority of the attacking horde. Red came out of anything squished in between the rocks and the floor. In mere seconds the source of water behind them had flowed red, with innards and pebbles flowing with the current.
With the rear now secured to a degree, the enemy was still relentless, but now had a sizable chunk of their numbers cut down. It only took a few minutes to clean up the rear. Private Magnusson shifts himself upon a rock, getting into a more comfortable position he flips out the bipod of his light machine gun and adds to the carnage ahead. The 5.56mm rounds do the creatures in with only a few rounds. However now that their attack has been squandered and its momentum massively halted made the creatures' attacks more calculated and begin to use cover.
A staff wielding creature begins to move in a spell casting like motion, catching the attention of Private Grey, who lines up his FAL and fires two rounds in its direction. The first one hits the abdomen of the creature, and the second one hits it square in the chest, causing it to fall down and stop moving.
Seeing that they are beginning to mass again, and that the IFV is now in its reloading stage, Corporal Hoon brings out a M84 Flashbang grenade and throws it into the crowd of creatures. Most fall down after the explosion, however the ones who were too close to its detonation begin to spasm out of control, leaving them open to receive the returning fire of the peacekeepers. But they still fail to realize that spacing plays important factors in combat and Corporal Hoon shows them its importance by throwing one of his two M67 Fragmentation Grenades, ending the lives of seven or so of the creatures.
The frontal attack had collapsed seconds after both Private Magnusson and the IFV finished reloading and fired into the mass, leaving only a handful of survivors to scurry away from wherever they came from.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Lieutenant Clarke ordered as he stood up from his cover. Looking around at the carnage and the retreating creatures he knew he had to know where they would escape to.
"Globe 4, this is Globe Lead, follow them back and mark the areas with machine gun fire for later." ordered Lieutenant Clarke as the IFV raced off to follow the pods.
Gathering his Sergeants around him, it was time for both a situation report and new plans of action.
"Sergeant Şÿrÿfaddinsoy, what news do you have of our supplies?" Lieutenant Clarke says in an inquisitive manner.
Removing his combat goggles along with his blue UN helmet, running a hand through the top of his head. "We still have food for about a week since we were geared to supply a large amount of refugees for one day, medical supplies are basic, only meant to keep the wounded comfortable until we can get them back to a triage center. Fuel is fine for now but ammunition is probably at half the amount we have."
"Grave but fine news. Sergeant Sheikh, get our squad to start moving the dead to one corner and use some of the fuel to create a controlled fire. Sergeant Linehan, you are to find the entrances marked by Sergeant Drakenberg and either destroy, block, or trap the entrances with the remaining grenades, use as few as possible."
With the orders given everyone goes to perform their duties. Amidst the work schedule Private van der Wel gets to one knee, feeling weak, eventually falling down all together. Having seen this, Private Yeo-Jin sees this and rushes to her side. Seeing that Private van der Wel's eyes were beginning to look droopy and her temperature rising she called for the group's medic. "Medic! We have a problem!"
Corporal Bæk rushes to both women, medical bag in tow, checks her immediately and stops, realizing that this may be the cause of the exact same liquid from the insects. "Yeo-Jin, was her face covered in the insect liquids?"
"A bit, she did spit something out before." Private Yeo-Jin recalls their firefight away from the main group.
Signalling for two others to get a stretcher and transport Private van der Wel with the rest of the medics inside a bigger tent. While the commotion happens, a pair of eyes belonging neither to the peacekeepers or any of the two creatures looked upon the group with great interest.
Moving closer to the group, using rocks and buildings to his advantage, he pulls out a notebook and a piece of coal and begins inscribing the details of the men and women with blue hats or bowls on their heads.
"By the Eight… who are these people? Where did they come from? And what are those lateral rods they use, and metallic monstrosities they fight with? To think they could stop a horde of Chaurus and Falmer. I must report back to Ambassador Elenwen." the unnamed mage said as he began to creep back to the exit.
Running back the mage fails to realize the small Chaurus that had been tailing him the whole time. With no time to pull out his dagger, he casts a fireball spell. Incinerating the small insect.
However it goes horribly wrong as the spell creates a sound, which nearly all the peacekeepers hear, causing them to raise their weapons or stop working. Lieutenant Clarke sees this from atop the Ural truck and calls out to the mage.
"Friend, stop! I need to ask a few questions."
Seeing he has been spotted, he makes a run for the closest exit. However as he gets close to a door, the IFV returns with the rest of Globe 1 riding on the top. Both parties are surprised to the point that Sergeant Drakenberg opens the commander's hatch to get a real look. Finally snapping out of it he turns around.
Seeing that his only means of escape is the large door, the size of a three story building since to his rear is the metal monstrosity that made very loud sounds, and another group of blue hatted people closing in on his right. With rocks to his front and the large door to his left, he pulls out the Attunement Sphere.
"Wait friend! Please! We just want to talk!" yells Lieutenant Clarke as he puts his M4 on the ground, notioning to the rest of the units to do the same.
"Even Sheogorath would be mad to trust you!" yells the mage as he slams the sphere-like object into a nearby console.
Lieutenant Clarke sees the console accept the sphere and turns it red before fading back to its original color. The exterior gate slides down one by one on each side, as it finally reaches the last gold, bronze like bar, an unbelievably loud sound rings throughout the area, causing everyone to cover their ears even if the peacekeepers already have ear plugs on them.
As the doors open another ear piercing sound comes from the general direction of the orange sun like construct, and despite all sciences pointing towards the fact that dragons are not real, a very real dragon appears, flying through the air of the place. The dragon had orange and black scales, and green eyes. Flying over the group it unleashed frozen hell in the general direction.
"Not only are there metal monstrosities after me, but now there's also a dragon that shouldn't even be here! Mara protect me." the mage yells as he dives for cover.
Luckily the only thing hit by the icy breath was the Strf 9040A. However the ice was able to find its way into the horizontal turret drive, jamming the peacekeepers' most effective weapon at the moment.
While the crew of the IFV continue to find a solution, all of the 3rd Platoon raise their weapons and fire at the dragon. However its size and most likely the thickness of its scales lead the bullets to bounce off of the dragon or simply be absorbed.
The peacekeepers scatter once again as it lands and this time unleashes literal fire. Behind cover Corporal Hoon primes another flashbang and throws it high into the air. To anyone looking it would have seemed to miss, however the flashbang detonates right in front of the dragon's head, disorienting it for a while and breathing fire and ice everywhere as fast as it could.
"Aim for the eyes!" yells Lieutenant Clarke to the marksmen of the whole unit.
Private Grey aims down his scope and takes a deep breath, squeezing the trigger once, the round goes wide. Follow up shots ring out but none hit the eyes.
The little shit is moving too fast, we don't have a clear shot!" Private Grey comments as he ducks behind a rock again to change magazines.
Inside the Strf 9040A, Sergeant Drakenberg riles his crew to get dismayed part of the vehicle in working order.
"Status on the horizontal drive?!" yelled Sergeant Drakenberg from his seat.
Perpendicularly the gunner replies, equally stressed. "It's stuck, we either have to get torched by the dragon or wait! We force the horizontal drive now and we may just break it!"
With an agitated sigh, Sergeant Drakenberg slams his fist to the side of the turret, he knows that they have the firepower to kill it, but cannot act upon it now. "Driver! You act as the horizontal drive! The Optics still work right?"
"Yes, sir!" both gunner and driver reply.
"Then load the sabot rounds and get to it"
From a distance it looked like the IFV was simply swiveling left and right, however after stopping, the 40mm Borfos autocannon lights up the sky as they fire on the dragon, only a few shots hit due to the driver and gunner not being as synchronized as they should have been.
However the few shots that connect leave gaping holes in the dragon. While the IFV stopped to reload the dragon took off towards the direction of the now fully opened door and passed the group. In moments another loud crash was heard and a muffled roar.
Seeing everyone dumbfounded, the mage makes a run for the door and begins to crest the incline. However a few seconds later Lieutenant Clarke and the others hear a scream of pain and what seems to be pressurized air. Upon reaching the base of the ramp, Private Katrien Holland, a long blonde haired woman with green eyes and a sharp nose, clicks on the flashlight on her Colt Canada C7NLD.
Shining the beam at the ramp she sees a bolt perhaps no larger than four and a meter and a half protruding from the mage, stifling a gasp she moves the light to where she thinks the source of mechanical sounds are coming from, only to seem many gold, bronze like automatons ranging from arachnid like entities to ten foot tall machines.
"Big contact! Big contact!" Private Holland yells as she darts back to the group.
The first ones to come out are the arachnid like automatons. Rifle fire only seemed to disorient the metallic nightmares, however after enough concussive force from multiple rounds however eventually dispatched of it. The problem is some of these automatons carried tesla coil like weapons, shocking some members, enough to create concerning burns.
"Droideka looking things incoming!" Private Madsen points out as he fires his carbine at the enemy.
Unfolding from its ball it proceeded to fire smaller bolts at the peacekeepers. However by this time the horizontal drive of the Strf 9040A has been free of its icicle problem and easily dispatches the four with well placed high explosive rounds.
Next however came what most likely was the killer of the mage and what they could call artillery. The walking ballistae came out and opened up on both the group and the IFV, however one ballista round goes wide and hits the MAN SV truck in the engine block.
"Sven, cover me!" Private Fredrik Axelsson, a large brute of a man with clean shaven light brown hair and stubble, head covered by a beret, and with deep yellow eyes, hoists his Ak 5C and fires at one of the two mobile ballistas.
Private Magnusson swivels to the direction of the targeted ballista and unleashes the sheer might of his LMG, disorienting the target. Private Axelsson runs for the ballista, arms open as if attempting to tackle it to the ground. Wrestling with the automaton he waits for it to fire, and as it does he pulls out his only frag grenade, pulls the pun, and stuffs it down the firing port before jumping as far as he can towards the ground.
The internal explosion causes the ballista to fall apart and cease operations. The second ballista was about to fire on Private Axelsson when a war cry rang from his left. Lieutenant Clarke came barreling down towards the ballista, firing his M4. Swinging his gun to his back, he rams the ballista with his shoulder, causing it to lose balance temporarily and then stuffing the barrel of his M4 down the firing port, swiveling the carbine in a circular motion.
Everyone had wished that was the end however the ten foot tall machines came out from the ramp, literally letting off steam to push the unit back. The Strf 9040A fires a five round burst, hitting both chest and head causing the large automaton to fall over, no longer moving. However the second one sees this and fires its smaller ballista at the IFV, luckily damaging the optical port.
"Globe Lead, this is Globe 4, we're blind!" came over the radio of Lieutenant Clarke.
"Do something about it, Globe 4, we don't have any AT weapons!" Lieutenant Clarke replied hastily.
Sergeant Drakenberg sighs heavily and opens the commander's hatch. Narrowly missing a ballista round, he grabs the radio for his crew and proceeds to guide them by his own optical judgement.
"Globe Lead, this is Globe 4, keep it busy while I manually aim the gun." Sergeant Drakenberg responds.
"You have 15 seconds, Globe 4." replies Lieutenant Clarkson, signaling to both Private Magnusson and Private Grey to suppress and grab its attention.
"Left, left, stop! Right a bit, yes that's good, just wait for my signal and then pull the trigger!" ordered Sergeant Drakenberg as he directed his gunner,
Seconds seemed like years as he waited, bullets had simply ricocheted off of its armor, at least until it stepped right in the firing line of the IFV.
"Now! Fire!"
The methodical thumping of the IFV fired eight rounds in total, however five only hit the large automaton, causing it to fall over. Seeing that nothing else was coming down the ramp, Lieutenant Clarke flags over the IFV.
"We need to go up, you will be our transportation, friends." Lieutenant Clarke says as Sergeant Drakenberg agrees and hits a button on his console, opening the hydraulic door and allowing Lieutenant Clarke, Sergeant Sheikh, Private Magnusson, Private Holland, and two Pakistani peacekeepers to get in.
As they started moving the only way they could see from the inside was the optical ports and screens of the drive and Sergeant Drakenberg, who sees the dead body of the mage, bringing it to the attention of Lieutenant Clarke. "Sir, the mage's body is here, do you wanna stop to take a look?"
"Sure, friend. Open the doors." Lieutenant Clarke replies.
Stepping out he moves to pull out his own small flashlight and points it at the dead mage's body. Lieutenant Clarke was not one to loot the dead, however seeing as to how the sphere he used opened the door, it looked like something they would need. Going through the robes he finds the very sphere that opened the door, a dagger, a few vials, some food, and a journal.
Opening the journal, Lieutenant Clarke sees words, however it was written in a language he didn't understand. Regardless he kept it in the event he can turn it in. Returning to the IFV they continue onto the surface.
After a few minutes, Lieutenant Clake and the others feel the ground level out, just in time for the doors to open. As the group stepped out a rush of fresh air hit them, it was nice to know they could breathe on the surface. There was also an evident loss in temperature, causing a few of them to shiver a bit.
As they got out, Lieutenant Clarke looked up to the sky to see the faint colors of an aurora, something he never expected to see in his life, let alone tour of duty.
One thing was certain however, they were no longer on their world.