Camp Rogain, Stratis
June 22st, 2354 Hours
It was quiet, the sounds of the night the only ambiance to be heard by the few guards on duty that night, several soldiers with light equipment on the perimeter. The camp was retrofitted when the island was transported here all those years ago, several armored watchtowers and cargo buildings becoming a central part of the base. About thirty men are stationed there at intervals of three-month 'tours' before being rotated with the next batch of men.
In one of the guard towers, one separated from the main base along the road to the west, a marksman guard sat with a rangefinder, Night Vision active, scanning the horizon for anything… literally anything. The Lance Corporal Marksman loved his position. Indeed he did, it was better than busy work back at Altis International where he was stationed previously. The only problem was: this was the most boring position on the planet.
He was supposed to keep an eye out for suspicious activity, unknown movements near the base, unidentified aircraft, etcetera. The only thing was that none of that ever really popped up on occasion. Except for the rare times it did.
Like now.
Far on the horizon, miles out and lower than the night's cloud layer the Marksman spotted a fixed-wing craft of indeterminate design. He grew curious and grabbed the radio nearby, tuning it to the local frequency.
"Major Rollins, this is Penske, you there?" the Corporal asked.
"This is Rollins, what is it son?" The static muddled reply of a very old sounding and tied major came through.
"I got an unidentified aircraft bearing 235 South West. Do you have anything on the flight manifest?" Penske asked.
As per a new regulation set in by Zeus that went into effect after the first week of arriving on this strange world, all aircraft (civilian or military) had to register flights in a continually updating manifest that was linked to all three islands. They usually also had a GPS location embedded with the log making it easier to keep track of.
"Wait one," Rollins said, the radio going silent once again while Penske brought the rangefinder back up and began zooming in to try and get the tail number on the plane. But as he looked closer he got a better look at the plane's design. Confused the Corporal put the rangefinder down and looked at it plain then looked back trying to see if he saw that right. Just as he did the radio crackled back to life.
"Ah, stupid fucking machine. I can't get the manifest up Penske, the connection is bugging out. Let me try and-"
Rollins was interrupted when Penske lunged for the radio suddenly "IT'S A FUCKING FROGFOOT! REPEAT, IT'S A RUSSIAN FROG-FUCK! INCOMING!"
Without warning, without any foresight, one of the hummers inside the base and any nearby were engulfed in a ball of orange of destruction, a spear of flame having screamed across the air in a matter of seconds and vaporizing the unsuspecting vehicle. The corporal ducked and prayed as the base was suddenly very awake in shock and panic.
Soldiers screamed and yelled, confused as more HE impact missiles descended upon them; dozens of them fell, unsuspecting of their coming doom. The enemy craft kept peppering the base with explosives. Then another jet joined in, descending from its cloud cover and raining its own form of hellish death from above.
Several soldiers quickly got their bearings, grabbing any sort of weapons or getting on mounted guns of still intact hummers and lighting the sky up with tracers and hot lead in an attempt to bring down the Russian designed aircraft.
The onslaught lasted only a matter of seconds, coming quickly and suddenly before disappearing again as the jets screamed away unscathed. Pocketed gunfire continued for a moment before dying out completely, the quiet sounds of the night replaced with roaring flames and the occasional loud band from loose ammo cooking off in the fire.
Penske took a chance and stood back up looking back at the vase only to see a handful of men running from the base which was nothing more than a burning, twisted husk. He was lucky, the tower not actually being a core part of the base, essentially saving his life. Some of the more unfortunate souls came out burning, screaming wildly before collapsing as some men tried to help douse the flames.
Penske heard a distant explosion and turned to see a wicked orange glow on the horizon, fresh pillars of smoke rising into the sky from installments all across the island. This was not an isolated and unplanned attack. This was thought out, and thoroughly planned blitz on the island, one that was far from over it seemed as Penske spotted multiple other aircraft, transports for soldiers.
Soon he saw many parachutes blossom into existence as paratroopers rained from the air on the battered and destroyed bases and encampments of the island. Penske was just glad he didn't see any fall close to his station. However, it would be only a matter of time before they came to the base to do God knows what.
With how quickly and mercilessly they attack, Penske feared for his and his fellow soldiers' survival against such a threat and thus he needed a plan. Survival was key.
Penske was quick to get out the safety of his tower and return to the remains of the base where he saw but a handful of the men that were stationed there. And that's only the ones that were up and about and not writhing on the ground in agony while their surviving medic tried his best to help them.
Penske saw there were about eight survivors including himself, the remaining six living soldiers were in no condition to fight, their bodies marred and shredded with burned flesh and shrapnel wounds. Getting them to safety was going to be hard. Harder since it seemed only five of the nine of them had any sort of weapon.
"Who here is the commanding officer?!" Penske bellowed.
The men all looked at him then around at each other for a moment, none speaking up until one of the unarmed ones stepped forward. "I… I think you are… sir." The young gunner said.
Penske took a step back surprised, he had never been in command of anyone before, not even a spotter. To suddenly be dropped the weight of leading a group of broken and disheveled soldiers was a game changer for the ordinarily solo operating man.
"….Alright… What is your name soldier?" Penske asked the man.
"PFC Armstrong sir." The younger soldier saluted; his gait and stance a bit wary due to the lingering shock of the situation.
"Alright, Armstrong… you and two others are with me, we are going to see if any of these vehicles are operable so we can hightail it out of here."
Some of the men were confused at why Penske wanted to leave, and one voiced his concern "Why not stay sir? Wouldn't we stand a better chance?"
Penske shook his head "No, this base is in shambles and burning, not only that but I'm sure you saw the parachutes earlier. It's only a matter of time before those soldiers come and take this base. We are in no condition to fight let alone survive." he put bluntly.
"We need to regroup. Closest place I can think of is the range outside of Agia Marina. If we can get there, we can maybe stand a better chance. Now let's stop wasting time and get to work…" Penske said moving towards some vehicles that looked operable.
Armstrong and two other soldiers went to help him look, checking several of the hummers and trucks only to find either a warped bit of tire and metal from an explosion or a piece of shrapnel or AP round run through the engine.
However, lady luck had yet to abandon them just yet.
Tucked away just outside the walls of the base behind a few rusty cargo buildings sat an M10 LMTV in all its beat up glory. It was protected by the wall of the base and thus was protected. The only actual damage it had was the wear and tear of regular use.
Sadly it wasn't a Personel Carrier model, but a flatbed, but that didn't deter Penske.
"Right, we have wheels. Armstrong, you're driving. The rest of you help the wounded and load up, we are getting the fuck out of here."
Penske walked over and carefully helped one of the wounded to his feet, taking all the weight from him and helping him to the open bed truck where several men were loading up a few ammo cases they salvaged and the weapons. Another soldier helped the wounded man into the back and laid him down before Penske went around and got into the passenger seat, priming the bolt of his M24 rifle.
Only he and Armstrong were in the front seat "Keep the headlights off, I want to avoid detection as much as possible. Here," Penske handed him his Night Vision Goggles "Use these."
Armstong nodded and donned the NVGs and switched them on before starting the truck and switching off all the lights. Their journey began, now all they needed to do was get to Agia Marina alive.
Just west of Agia Marina, Stratis
June 23st, 0014 Hours
Penske and the others drove for several minutes in the pitch of darkness, the night only alight as distant firefights and raging infernos burned the many bases around them. So far they were lucky in getting this far, but luck ran out sooner or later.
For them, it was just as they crested the hill and caught sight of the Stratis Army Vehicle Range. It was the motor pool for the northern region of the island and not very well staffed. Already he saw the soldiers and engineers of the base were rooted in a massive firefight with unknown contacts on the hillside.
The soldiers were smart, already using scrap from the cars and some extra sandbags to dig in and entrench the position. It helped, but only to a degree as the enemy had the high ground and we hammering the positions with heavy gunfire.
Penske cursed under his breath as he saw the state of things. He swore even louder when a few of the enemy soldiers trained to fire on their vehicle. "FUCK ME!" He exclaimed as heavy gunfire, likely some standard 7.62 caliber rounds, peppered all around them and some striking the armored hull of the M10.
"RETURN FIRE!" Penske ordered and suddenly the back of the truck lit up with several muzzle flashes from both automatic and semi-auto gunfire.
Armstrong swerved and pulled serpentine maneuvers to avoid getting shot, and it worked somewhat. Penske only head one of the soldiers in the back scream in pain as a high caliber round tore into him. The LMTV swerved a bit off the road as it came into the final stretch to the lightly guarded flank of the motor pool, the guards rushing them in and pointing to a sheltered spot to stop.
Armstong ground to a halt behind the cover of the steel canopy used to protect vehicles from the elements… and gunfire apparently. Penske jumped out and took a look at the back only to see the medic clutching a gushing wound on his chest as men around him tried desperately to staunch the bleeding.
Penske watched as the life drained from the medic's eyes and his breathing stopped, several men slowly giving up in saving his life as he was already gone. Penske closed his eyes and turned away.
A man who was apparently in charge of the base stepped to him and put a hand on his shoulder, getting Penske's attention. "Where did you guys come from?!" He yelled over the sounds of battle. "Camp Rogain, we're all that's left! I'm currently the highest ranking officer from the base!" Penske answered.
The man was surprised, he himself was a Sergeant Major, the motor pool didn't really need anybody higher ranking like a base such as Camp Rogain. But to see that the only surviving officer from the station was a Lance Corporal was troubling to him. "Jesus Christ, you're all that's left?! Was the attack that bad?!"
"Yes!" was Penske's simple answer.
The Major went silent a moment, just enough time for a soldier nearby to yell "RPG!"
The sound of a rocket firing could be heard over the din of gunfire followed a few seconds by a loud explosion right next to the fuel pumps starting a massive uncontrolled fire right next to them which would only get worse if the pump lights. "HOLY SHIT! GET THOSE FLAMES OUT BEFORE THAT DUMP GOES!" the Major yelled.
Several men did as their officer ordered, running for hoses or grabbing buckets of water to douse the flames. "Look..." The Major took a look at Penske's name patch "Penske, I just got off the horn with the island's governor, he's ordered a full-scale evacuation of all civilian and wounded."
Penske nodded, understanding. The island was lost, at this point, they're just fighting off the inevitable.
"Scattered radio contact suggest that this may be the only active military establishment on the island. The airfield, Mike-26, Kamino, all of them are gone. The way I see it, I am the only highest ranking officer on this island, and as of now, I am ordering you to evacuate."
This caught Penske off guard, surely the Major wasn't suggesting what Penske thought he was suggesting "Excuse me, sir?"
"Look, I'm already sending non-combatant elements off base to the evacuation, you may as well join them… we already know it's too late and we can't have them trying to chase the survivors. My men have all already agreed, we are staying to make sure you escape."
Penske stared at the Major a moment before dipping his head. He wanted to argue, to tell him wrong, but deep down he knew he was right. He and his men weren't fit for a fight and lacked proper equipment. I mean all he had was forty rounds for his rifle on him, he wouldn't last very long before he ran out.
Penske looked back at the Major then snapped a crisp salute "Thank you, sir… may Zeus be with you… Godspeed."
The Major stood to attention and returned the salute in kind "Same to you Lance Corporal…"
Penske went back and relayed the information to his fellow comrades, something that didn't take very long and was accepted pretty quickly. Nobody, there was even prepped for a fight, they only had the one crate of ammo, and it wasn't even packaged in magazines, just shells. Most of them were also battered from the aerial bombardment, in no condition to fight.
All of them quickly went about collecting the wounded, setting aside those too wounded to even transport, setting up some bootleg form of Combat Triage and focusing on the ones that stood a chance at making it to the evacuation.
More than a few men had trouble with just leaving their own to die, it seemed barbaric, but in light of the attack and the fact they're under fire currently from multiple unknown tangos they were forced to. Armstrong couldn't even do it, he didn't have the guts he told Penske so instead he helped a few of the men prep their transport.
When it was all said and done, more than twenty men could be transported from the base, all of them being squeezed with other evacuees and the men from Rogain into the back of an M1084 transport, Armstrong acting as the designated driver again.
The truck took off quickly under the cover fire of people from the base, driving quickly into Agia Marina for the evacuation, scooping up anyone they could along the way. The whole time Penske sat in the back and watched… watched as the Motor Pool fell into a haze of orange hellfire…
The island of Statis had fallen to the Enemy.
Kavala, Altis
June 23st, 0034 Hours
Mark was fast asleep in his bed dreaming of times back on Earth when Seth burst into his room unannounced.
Mark jolted up and gave Seth a wide-eyed look of surprise "Seth?! What time is it! What's going on?" Mark asked in a partially tied tone.
"Sir, we are under attack…"
A/N Sorry for the long wait, but as I said this was a test story, and right now we are delving into the real test of this story. Massive armed conflict. I have little knowledge about how to write about something like this, and I decided it would be better to write a short story to dip my toes in the water as opposed to diving into a full-length novel and falling apart when the meat of the story begins. Please, if you have any experience or foresight you wish to give me, PM me or write a review, thank you. Again, sorry for the long wait, I hope you all have a happy Halloween.
-Guardian Alpha
