Disclaimer: If you've seen it somewhere else, I don't own it.
I just like to tell you all thanks for the encouragement in your reviews, especially since this is my first story.
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Reaper glanced to each side of him before speaking one last order, "Let's go." The seven started forward, following their forces into towards the sounds of battle below…
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"Marines! Dismount!" the cry came from the back of an APC carrying one of the many Marine fireteams committed to the battlefield. The back hatch slammed open as those inside dashed out into the staccato of screams of dying men and dragons alike.
"This is Reaper to all infantry," called out a voice over the radio, "concentrate your fire on the soldiers on the ground, leave the dragons to our aircraft and AA tanks. Make sure to watch out from dragon's fire runs. Stay loose! I do not want to hear of an entire platoon being cut down by a single blast of fire!" The voice continued for a few more moments, speaking to other elements of the assault force, before going silent.
"Avenger platoon, this is Avenger Actual, our objective is to take and hold the only high patch of ground in this plain. Four LAV's, callsign Stallion 2, have been tasked to give us support during our advance. Stay behind them for cover from enemy arrows!
Command wants that ground for artillery spotting, so we're going to give it to him! Am I right Marines!", the voice of the platoon commander said as his men assembled for the assault.
"Sir, yes sir!", responded the man's platoon.
"Outstanding, Marines! Now let's move out!", with that final exhortation the platoon moved out while the attack helicopters lead by Samanya fought alongside the blue force's dragons to clear the skies. The enemy was being decimated overhead, their situation only made worse by the occasional anti-air attack run by a flight of F15's or F22's, their missiles and cannon scything many red dragons from the sky.
"Dragon, 11 o'clock, up high!", came a sudden cry, indicating a red dragon that appeared to be attempting to make an attack run on the group. One of the LAV's immediately swung its turret skyward. The vehicle's 25mm cannon barked four times and sent their deadly payload towards its target. The rounds struck true and the dragon fell from the sky, its body landing far away with an unhealthy plop. An inhuman scream cried out from the platoon's right side as another group of Marines and their accompanying LAV were set aflame by dragon fire. The poor souls hopelessly tried to extinguish the flames until their burns claimed them, screeching in agony all the while.
"Keep moving! We must reach that hilltop!", the platoon leader yelled again. A scene of utter madness reigned around the platoon as blue and red forces fought for dominance, with occasional dab of green or grey advertising the presence of a fellow Marine group. The opposing forces were packed so tightly in places that it was difficult for the Marines and vehicles to fire without hitting their own men. More than a few friendly fire incidents had already occurred because of this.
The hill finally sprang into view with a mass of red soldiers standing guard over it. The solid wall of men contained at least a few thousand by the platoon's reckoning, far too many for a single platoon to handle.
"Command, this is Avenger Actual, we have a massive wall of enemy forces in between us and our objective, requesting some major reinforcements or heavy fire support over!", the leader yelled into his headset, trying to be heard over the sounds of battle around him. The Marines around him continued to fire their weapons at red forces that got to close to the group, but if the seemingly endless waves of enemy forces continued, they would quickly run out of ammunition.
"You're in luck, Actual, a squadron of Abrams tanks and a company of Marines, force callsign Reaver, have already accomplished their objectives, along with Assassin Group Onyx, those forces are enroute to your position now.", came the teenaged voice of Ryan's central consciousness.
"What about fire support sir?"
"A flight of A10s and a full battery of heavy mortars are at your disposal, Lieutenant, get me that hill, Command out."
"This is Steel 1, commander of Assassin Group Onyx, we have joined forces with Reaver and are moving to your position. ETA is five minutes over.", said a new, deep voice over the radio.
"Roger that, Steel, we will hold position until you get here, Avenger out."
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Another blow fell towards Eragon's head as the Rider deflected the blow with a flick of his sword and elbowed the man in the chest. He quickly finished the soldier with a stab through his neck and looked out upon the rest of the battlefield. Ryan and Samanya's forces astounded Eragon. They moved with an obvious professional discipline and their weapons seemed to kill as if by magic. The few wounds he had seen caused by their fire almost sickened him, as they ripped apart the body of the one they tore through.
The massive metal beasts that moved with the men looked almost invulnerable to most everything that Alagëasians had at their disposal. Large blasts of fire flew from their mouths, scything down dozens of tightly packed warriors with only a single round. Even the smaller ones appeared very deadly, even without the large size of their brethren they still cut down Murtagh's soldiers by the dozens.
The beasts flying counterparts were just as deadly, if not more so. Eragon had closely observed the low flying ones that fired smaller versions of the larger ground creature's mouth, but at a much faster rate. Strange explosive arrows flew from odd stubby wings as they hovered in midair, killing most opponents before they even had a chance to retaliate. Those who even reached them still had a daunting proposition. The beasts were certainly not slouches at flight and, though not as agile as a dragon, they acted with an obvious emphasis on teamwork, with each group of them providing support for the rest. Even if a dragon was lucky enough to grab hold of one of the things, they would occasionally suddenly be ripped apart by some unseen force (helicopter rotors), and sent screaming back to earth, with the falling creature not far behind it.
Eragon had caught a few glimpses of the fast, high-flying beasts, who had a very predatory look to them. These beasts intrigued him the most as they flew faster than any dragon could hope to match, fired some of their arrows, and zipped back up high into the sky, where none could catch them. Some looked different than the others, with certain ones playing specific roles in Ryan's force, some attacking those in the air and some attacking those on the ground. Eragon shuddered as he remembered the first time one of them dropped a small container that brought forth a fire greater than any dragon he had seen could possibly produce. The blaze consumed all in its path and seemed to resist any attempts to put it out. Other containers caused loud and large explosions, killing any unlucky enough to be standing near to the blast zone.
I must speak with Ryan about this. What are all these things? Where did they come from? The destructive power of these creatures is immense! How could he have dared to hide this information from us? These beasts can turn the entire tide of the war against the Empire on their own! Ryan better have answers! he thought with a scowl.
I agree with you little one, Saphira's voice responded, this deserves an explanation. I have never seen or heard of anything like these creatures. I, however, am not complaining, they are quite effective against Murtagh's forces.
Aye, that they are. Eragon responded, with a small frown etched on his face as he continued to fight his way through Murtagh's forces.
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Meanwhile, Avenger platoon and its supporting forces had finally assembled at the bottom of the hill with Steel 1 in command of the combined force. Their plan was simple, call in a heavy mortar barrage on the red force's positions with some smoke mixed in to cover their advance, then push forward behind the armored vehicles, calling in the A10s for support when necessary. The advance would be bloody and very risky. The numerical difference between the opposing forces looked so vast as to be hopeless, and it would have been, were it not for the supporting Assassin group. Assassins had already proven themselves extremely deadly on the battlefield with each individual already possessing a kill list ranging in the thousands. Their magical ability and the resilience of their armor certainly didn't help their enemies either. As a matter of fact, not a single Assassin had fallen on the battlefield from enemy action or any other cause, a fact that made their fame all the greater in the forces that they assisted, who thought that if a single Assassin team was present, victory was assured. On a battlefield such as this, that psychological impact could make the all the difference in this fight.
"Bayonets!", Steel 1 yelled. As one the Marines pulled the knives from their scabbards and mounted them with a soft click. The final rounds of their preparatory mortar barrage finally hit the ground, reaping the last of the several hundred souls that they had consumed in the past few moments. The tempo of the battle around them seemed to slow as adrenaline began to pulse through their veins. "Prepare to charge!", the command continued. The men assembled behind the tanks and LAV's took one last deep breath as they awaited the final order, keying their rifles to full auto mode.
"Charge!", the Steel 1 cried. The assembled troops yelled at the top of their lungs as the group began to advance at a full sprint, staying directly behind their supporting armor for protection. The Abram's cannons belched flame as they fired high explosive and canister rounds into the opposing red forces, over a hundred fell with the first volley alone. The LAV's guns pointed to the sky, shooting down any red dragons that dared to support their brethren on the ground.
The front line of Murtagh's forces foolishly stood their ground as they rained arrows down on the attacking force. Most fell harmlessly, connecting with either dirt, steel, or Kevlar, a couple, however, found their marks, though only causing mostly superficial injuries. Their disorganization from the mortar barrage was still evident in their lines, with gaps having formed in several places along the previously seamless formation.
Another battle cry rang out from behind the Marnies, with those who looked back finding a large group of Eragon's forces advancing behind them. The distance to Murtagh's lines shrank to the last few yards as the tanks fired off one final cannon round before running down the red forces in their path. The Marines began to fire their weapons as they swept past, most resorting to only single shot or short bursts to conserve their ammo. Their objective was all that mattered to them as they pushed forward, trusting that the blue soldiers behind them would be able to hold off Murtagh's forces for long enough to secure the hilltop. A few Marines got hit and fell as enemy arrows struck them from behind, yet the group pressed on. The barrels on the 50 caliber machine guns on the Abrams tanks glowed red hot as they poured fire into the enemy, their rounds literally ripping their targets to shreds.
The members of Assassin group Onyx ran ahead of their forces, preventing any red soldiers lucky enough to escape the cascade of gunfire from attacking the Marines behind them.
The group continued on for a few more moments before reaching the hilltop only to find… nothing, no fortifications, no dedicated garrison, absolutely nothing that could try to defend the vital feature from the Marine group.
"I want a 360 degree defensive position set up on the double!", Steel 1 ordered. The Marines around him rushed to comply, quickly setting up with a platoon to each face of a compass and one in reserve. A loud cry sounded up from the bottom of the hill as Murtagh's forces began their counterattack…
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Back inside his own mind Ryan was troubled by something completely different. How in the world was he going to explain all of this in a way that the others would believe? How much should he say? The image of a foreboding mushroom cloud flashed in his mind for a moment.
The idea that nuclear weapons could be created through magical means greatly concerned Ryan. The thought that all he would have to do was split an atom to create such a weapon from what he could remember of his science class, seemed to stick in his mind. It may be difficult to do with magic, but if even the possibility existed that such a spell could be created…he could not risk it. The only nuclear weapons in existence resided within his mind…his last resort, should all hope be lost and the information he swore to protect be in danger of discovery. The ICBMs resided far away from the rest of his world, their existence only known to him and Reaper.
Ryan sighed for a moment before glancing at the many headquarters personnel around him who helped him manage the battlefield and then returning his stare back to the headquarters' holographic table, which displayed the fighting in real-time. He noted that, even with the addition of his forces, the balance of power looked evenly matched.
Regardless of how good in combat a Marine was, he was only one man…and there was only so many of them he could send. Losses among the chopper squadrons had been significant as well. Once the enemy dragons got close enough to constitute a threat, they attacked with great vigor, taking down his helicopters with either suicidal grabs or by melting some critical component of the chopper's frame with their fire, sending it spinning to the ground.
Losses to Murtagh's forces, however, was catastrophic in Ryan's opinion, over twenty thousand soldiers and several thousand more dragons had fallen to his forces over the course of the battle, yet there looked to be no end in sight. Ryan watched as his fighter squadrons made one more missile run, taking out several hundred dragons in their single pass. Ryan frowned at the image, as replacements for those fallen dragons instantly appeared to continue the fight.
Ryan's frown grew larger as one thought crept through his mind, It's the Eldunarí in his possession, that's the only reason he's lasted this long. Ryan sighed once more, I can't keep this up much longer.
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Luckily for him, he may not have to. Murtagh stood with Thorn on the other side of the battlefield, confused at the arrival of the new beasts and furious at the amount of energy he had lost keeping up his assault. He had sucked his Eldunarí almost dry of their store of energy. Murtagh knew that he had to do something now if he wished to escape. There was only one solution that seemed suitable to the Red Rider and dragon.
With his silent command, the remainder of his stores of energy took form as he prepared to withdraw…his master must hear of what has transpired…
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The crackle and boom of weapons fire continued to sound from the hilltop as the remaining Marines struggled desperately to hold onto their positions. Ammunition was running short. The tanks were out of cannon ammunition. The LAV's autocannons fired sparingly, their magazines almost dry as well. Any hope the men had of holding the hill vanished as they looked to the sky for a moment, beholding a massive formation of dragons heading their way.
"Lieutenant.", came Steel 1's calm voice.
"Yes sir?", Avenger platoon's leader responded, firing his weapon all the while.
"Broken Arrow."
The Lieutenant's eyes widened in surprise for a moment before screaming into his radio, "This is Avenger Actual! Broken Arrow! I repeat! Broken Arrow! Friendly forces are low on ammunition and in danger of being overrun. Requesting all available fire support around the base of the hill, over!".
"Avenger, this is Storm Lead, my flight and I are inbound for a strafing run. We only have enough rounds for a single run, Actual, sorry we can't provide you with more."
"We'll take what we can get, Storm, bring it down now!"
"Roger that," A pitched whine sounded out overtop the hill as the flight of A10s approached the hill. They quickly lined up their strafing run and let loose with their miniguns. Thousands of round sailed towards the red soldiers dashing uphill, shredding any too close to pieces.
"Ghost Eye! This is Avenger Actual, we need more support and we need it now!", the Marine Lieutenant yelled.
"Actual, this is Ghost Eye, all available fire support is already engaged elsewhere. There is nothing to send you, over."
"What do you mean nothing! This is the most critical sector on the entire line! There has got to be something!"
Silence reigned on the other end for a moment before it spoke once more, "Actual, we are patching you through to Command. Only he can authorize the use of anything heavier than what we've got now, over."
"Roger that," the radio crackled for a moment as the patch was established before a voice rang out, "Avenger Actual, this is Command, give me a Sitrep, over!"
"Command, friendly forces are low on ammo and the red troops have just been reinforced by a massive group of dragons that are headed this way! We need immediate fire support! Broken Arrow! I repeat, Broken Arrow!"
"Roger that, Actual, support is on the way! Stand your ground! That hill must be held at all costs! Do you understand me, Marine!", Command replied in equal force.
"Sir! we cannot hold! We have a massive group of dragons headed our way and our LAV's do not have enough ammunition to handle them. All other forces who could assist are currently engaged elsewhere! Is there anything else you can give us, sir!"
"Yes…there is, take cover…now!", Command's voice seemed to possess a deadly edge to it for a moment as the remaining Marines dived into their vehicles…
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Meanwhile…
Nuclear weapons may not be an option, but I know something that is. Ryan thought with a smile of satisfaction.
He turned to the nearby artillery liaison officer and spoke, "Major, I want three thermobaric Tomahawks fired into that dragon formation! And I want it done yesterday!"
"Yes sir!", came the quick reply. The man's radio cackled for a few moments until he glanced back up and calmly said, "Missiles away, sir."
Ryan looked back down at the battle before smirking, "Good."
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The three Tomahawk cruise missiles almost instantly crossed the threshold that separated them from their target reality. The battlefield stretched out underneath them as they traveled faster than the speed of sound towards their targets. The onboard targeting computer began to count down the distance to target…
50 miles…
25 miles…
10 miles…
5 miles…
1 mile…
As the counter hit zero the weapons activated and briefly lit up the surrounding area in a halo of fire and death…
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Yamula stood with her remaining forces as they cut down the few remaining red soldiers. Yamula did have to admit that the youngling's creations certainly made this battle much easier as they scythed through everything in their path with almost arrogant ease. She may not like the new human rider, but she had to say…he had an immense amount of power and knowledge to create such deadly metal beasts and weapons.
Suddenly three odd plumes of fire appeared in the corner of her vision. The plumes were moving fast…very fast…faster than Yamula had even thought possible. The plumes streaked overhead towards a massive formation of red dragon's before detonating in midair…
Nothing could prepare Yamula for the massive fireballs and deafening bang that accompanied the missiles detonation. The blast consumed many lucky dragons outright. The other, more unfortunate ones had their insides instantly liquefied from the heat and pressure of the thermobaric warhead. The dragons fell from the sky without another sound.
Yamula gazed up into the sky in horror, not noticing as those few remaining of Murtagh's forces disappeared as the Red Rider made his escape. Yamula had never seen such heartless destruction. Over a thousand dragon mirages died from the blasts and nothing remained of their formation but smoke and ash. The entire formation was killed without any chance to retaliate, any chance to escape. Yamula continued to stare at the impact site as she dwelled on the ruthlessness of the move. She knew that those objects that caused such destruction had to have some basis for existence, otherwise they would not exist here, but then her question was, What kind of place must the origin of those things be to require such destructive and ruthless weapons? She looked around her at the devastation of the battlefield, the swaths of dead red soldiers that had been cut down by Ryan's forces, Ryan must tell us how to build these things! These weapons and beasts can easily rip through anything the Imperials place in their path! We could overthrow Galbatorix in an instant with them! She continued to rant for a few more moments as the illusion started to fade around her and the world returned to reality…
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Yamula opened her eyes for a moment and looked up to where Saphira and Thorn had been locked together previously, only to find Murtagh and Thorn a great distance away, running from the Varden that they could not defeat.
Cowards! Yamula thought an angry mental shout.
Suddenly Murtagh's magnified voice yelled out across the plains, "Do not think you have won, Eragon, Saphira. We shall meet again, I promise, and Thorn and I shall defeat you then, for we shall be even stronger than we are now!"
We shall see about that, young one. Yamula thought with a smirk. A grunt of pain sounded out from behind her. She turned to find Ryan on his knees and doubled over, clutching his chest in pain. Ryan's breaths were short and ragged, the obvious indicators of the amount of energy he had expended while assisting them.
Blödhgarm quickly rushed over to the pained Rider before asking, "Are you alright, young one?"
"Just…give me a minute.", Ryan grunted, his grip on his chest lightening as the pain slowly drifted away. With one last deep breath, Ryan stood and said, "I'll be alright…where to?"
Blödhgarm gave the boy a small smile before responding, "We must make sure Eragon and Saphira are safe," he turned his gaze to the remaining conscious members of the group, "if you feel strong enough to continue, follow me; if not, stay here and rest. I do not wish for any of you to fall due to a mistake made in your fatigue." With those final words Blödhgarm began to jog away, Ryan, Yamula, Arya, and three other elves following him.
Ryan pulled out his pistol, remembering the horror of what they were about to encounter. The smell of death and blood almost made Ryan lose his breakfast. The cries of dying men resonated around them, it took all Ryan's remaining concentration to block them out, tears forming in his eyes at the devastation. The mound of bodies that had fallen in the mental battles he had fought had allowed him to rationalize that they were not real, that would not work this time as real bodies and real blood littered the ground around them as they pushed forward. The elves and Rider were breathless as they reached where Eragon and Saphira stood with a small group of Varden protecting them.
"Arya! What happened? No one seems to be in command.", Eragon asked as they approached.
Arya took a few more breaths before answering, "The soldiers proved more dangerous than we anticipated. We do not know how. Du Vrangr Gata has heard nothing but gibberish from Orrin's spellcasters."Ryan was slightly amazed that the elf had managed to keep track of the ensuing battle even though she fought inside the chaotic mental battle earlier.
Something else I need to learn, Ryan thought.
Suddenly King Orrin's voice rang out, "Back, back, all of you! Archers, hold the line! Blast you, no one move, we have him!" The elves and Riders seemed to have the same thought as they dashed over to where they heard the monarch's voice. They found Orrin sitting on his charger in front of a tightly packed group of warriors, all of them staring at one lone man wearing Imperial colors. The bodies of all assembled were covered in blood and dirt from combat and many of them were wounded in one way or another. Orrin glanced over to them as he heard Saphira's approach.
"Good, good, you're here.", he muttered as the group assembled by his side. "We needed you, Saphira, and you, Shadeslayer," Orrin continued. Ryan watched the lone Imperial his pistol at the ready for the order to drop the man. An archer inched forward slightly before being instantly rebuked by the observant monarch. The lone man had brown hair and a purple birthmark on his neck. His sword was pitted and missing its last six inches. An arrow had impaled his right foot, pinning him in place. A horrid, gurgling laugh emanated from the man.
His lungs must be puctured, Ryan thought.
Orrin called out to the man, "What are you?" The soldier did not answer. "Answer me," the king demanded, "or I'll let my spellcasters at you. Be you man or beast or some ill-spawned demon? In what foul pit did Galbatorix find you and your brothers? Are you kin of the Ra'zac?" Rage began to seep into Ryan at the horror of what the man really was…and what he had done. Ryan's finger itched on the trigger, begging to put an end to the man who would kill his newfound friends and dragon without any mercy or pity.
The injured soldier spoke, "Man, I am man."
You are like no man I know.", Orrin replied
"I wanted to assure the future of my family. Is that so foreign to you, Surdan?"
You are only assuring your own destruction! Ryan screamed in his mind as the two continued to converse, Do you lack any common sense! Galbatorix only cares for his own whims! I highly doubt that he will uphold his promise for long, only as long as the war goes on and he needs painless, then, once he has no further need of you, he will dispose of you all and leave your families to mourn your graves!
Ryan phased back to reality just as the soldier pull the arrow out of his foot and threw it at a nearby archer, wounding the man in the hand. The man cackled madly at them as he raised his sword at them, as if to attack.
"Shoot him!" Orrin shouted
The world around Ryan flashed…
Ryan was no longer surrounded by the Varden. The burning expanse of his dream stretched out before him. A black silhouette figure stood in front of him, an inhuman screech sounding from the creature as it raised a strange arm to attack him…
Ryan returned to reality and brought his pistol up and sighted the man an instant.
A loud Bang! Bang! Sounded from his weapons as two rounds flew out of the barrel. The first round cut straight into the man's heart, ripping it apart into several pieces as the round tore apart his insides. The second round hit a little higher, impacting about halfway up the soldier's neck, blasting through the multiple vital blood vessels and severing his spinal cord. The man instantly dropped like a stone.
The entire assembled Varden stared in shock at the Rider with a smoking gun in his hand. None of them had even the chance to raise their bows before the Ryan killed the man.
Ryan looked between the gun in his hand and the man on the ground for a moment as he began to shake, his mind finally realizing what he had done. Ryan hesitantly holstered his weapon and stared at the fallen man for one more moment before running back to the camp, trying to get as far away from all this death as possible. The remaining elves looked to Eragon, all asking the same unspoken question.
"I'll go speak with him.", Eragon said before heading off in the direction Ryan had taken, worrying over what could be wrong…
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Broken Arrow: A military call used to signify that friendly forces are in danger of being overwhelmed. It causes all available support to assist in any way possible to try and preserve the position.
R&R!