Certain Medevac Helicopter, April 3rd, 2021 (1000)
Despite her initial expectations, the other-worlder soldiers aren't what Delilah had initially expected them to look like, especially after the rumors that they defeated the Vassal Kingdoms' army with ease and repelled the Empire's invasion, which many considered to be undefeatable. At first she shrugged it off as some rumors, but day by day, strange occurrences seemed to reinforce what was once an outrageous claim.
They wear dirty yet tidily made clothes, their camouflage making them blend in with the surroundings, they don't try to kill the refugees, at first she thought it's because they're going to turn her, Myui and others into slaves, but after spending times at the other-worlders blockade, they seem to genuinely help them.
Despite their constant advances on her, they didn't even try to rape her, only whistling, before going on with their business. It seems that these soldiers knew how to control themselves.
Another thing that bewildered her is how they treated Myui, who had cut her hair short, to a more boyish look and hopefully be unrecognizable, Delilah also hides her rabbit ears by hiding it with her hair, which has become messy as they try to escape from so called "Barbarians" even treated her well, not even asking her for any favors in exchange for digging up sharp objects from Myui's thigh, as a result from their explosions that would come out of nowhere, sending shrapnel in every direction. They don't even try to harass her.
Immediately after the unknown red-haired healer, who wore a strange helmet with wrapped goggles strapped to it, together with his friends who treated Myui and managed to stop her bleeding, they loaded her up onto a strange metal dragonfly that made loud chopping noises as it flies away, startling Delilah, her heightened sense as a Warrior Bunny kicking in.
The soldiers in the iron dragonfly continued to treat her, as they flew to their hopefully adequate healing center.
"I can't thank you enough, whichever country you came from, Mr. Red-Haired Healer." Is the only thing Delilah could mutter under her breath, as they continue their journey in the strange metal beast.
Sadera (1000)
Loud steps echoed through the chamber, making a "clunk" noise every time someone walked. Sunlight pierced through the windows made by the Empire's finest, glinting off the golden throne of Emperor Molt Sol Augustus. A man is approaching him, walking loudly, as if to boast his position in the government.
The man stopped short of the small stairs just right before the throne, getting into a half crouch position to show respect to the emperor, bowing down to him. Another person followed him from behind, also getting down as a show of respect. They're Zorzal and Diablo, the 2 sons of the Emperor Molt Sol Augustus, the former being the crown prince.
"That's enough, both of you can stand up now." The Emperor ordered calmly, as the men began to stand up, facing them..
"Father, why did you summon us two? I was busy having fun with my slaves!" Zorzal said dejectedly, his morning routine disrupted by his father, the emperor himself.
"Zorzal, not every day of your life is about having fun. Sometimes, you have to contribute too in our war effort, which is the reason why I summoned you two today." Molt replied immediately, having something in his mind.
"What is it father?" Diablo finally spoke up, curious about how they would contribute in this war against the barbarians that dared to attack Italica, the Empire's breadbasket.
"I want both of you to lead a separate army, both with different objectives." The Emperor responded to his question, sitting up-right to make it clear that it's serious.
"Zorzal, you will lead an army to the town of Karaylai, near the Duma mountains pass, to block any other wolder attempt at attacking the capital. I shall entrust you with leading 9 legions with 45,000 of the Empire's finest troops. I hope you will succeed like how you defeated the barbaric rabbits 3 years ago." He continues, turning his head towards Zorzal, in reference to his campaign of sheer brutality and terror to subjugate the once proud warrior race of head-hunting bunnies.
"I shall not disappoint you father!" Zorzal immediately replied, grinning now that he finally gets his chance to destroy the otherwolders armies and push them back to the Gate, pillaging their cities and doing other things that he liked.
"Good, you shall leave now." Molt dismisses him, Zorzal then gets up and proceeds to leave the throne room with a grin on his face.
Molt then turns his head towards Diablo.
"Diablo, you will lead a single legion of 5,000 men towards Rondel, there, you will take over the local government and prevent any attempt by the barbarians trying to take the Empire's Magic Academy, I shall place my trust on you to do this." Molt states, as he takes a sip from a glass of wine, while referring to the magic capital of the Empire, Rondel, losing it would be a blow to the Empire's war effort.
"Yes…. Father." Diablo responds, obeying his orders, albeit begrudgingly.
"Good, you may leave now."
Hearing that, Diablo immediately leaves the chamber, towards the legion he's assigned to. He mutters under his breath, disappointed and suspicious of his mission compared to Zorzal's mission of blocking the mountains.
Is he trying to remove competition to the throne? It's not like the otherworlders are going to take Rondel, since it's separated by Row River, it's simply not feasible, they might head to Sadera first logically, ugh, I need to eat, I barely have eaten a single thing since waking up.
1st Reconnaissance Battalion, MSR Tijuana/Appia Highway (1145)
The eighty vehicle convoy moved through the highway, on their way to link up with the rest of the Division at an intersection, dead bodies littered the roadside, civilians and Imperial Soldiers alike, some missing their limbs, some their heads. In front of them is a burning wagon, intestines and other organs can be seen strewn inside it, civilians caught in crossfire, shot up by Regimental Combat Team-5's (RCT-5) 25mm and 120mm guns from LAVs and Abrams after being mistaken for enemy scouts due to confusion in the ambush a day earlier.
"Fucking trigger happy fucks, couldn't even shoot straight." Clancy said, looking away from the scene in disgust.
"Jesus….." Evan mutters under his breath, while he is usually cheerful, scenes like this makes him want to gag, next to him is Simon, who are busy waving at the kids playing near the dead bodies, looting gold and other valuables from the destroyed legion along the roadside, unaware of the horrors of war as they simply try to make a living.
"You're welcome! Thank you for the hospitality and the shitty roads!" Simon sarcastically exclaimed as he waved at the children looting the dead bodies along the road, not knowing what he just said. The kids of course, waved at him back.
"And please vote Republican too!" Evan joins in as he jokingly remarked.
"Shit, are you trying to turn this continent into a fucking trailer-trash incest-ridden fucking shithole filled with Cletuses who couldn't even spell 'apple' like the state you came from?" Simon said, turning his head towards Evan, grinning.
Evan just shrugs off his affectionate insult, smiling a bit.
"Better incest-ridden shithole than some femboy-ass city filled with Patrick Bateman copycats and shit." Evan shot back, not looking at Simon as he is driving the Humvee, trying to avoid the dead body on the road.
Suddenly, the radio comes to life as they're nearing the intersection.
"All Hitman-2 Victors, maintain dispersion when linking up with the division's convoy, over." Lt Mistral spoke up on the radio, ordering them to not bunch up; they could already see multiple vehicles from the 1st Marine Division near their turn.
"Hitman-2, this is Hitman 2-1, roger that."
"Hitman 2-1 Bravo to Hitman-2, roger that."
"Hitman-2, this is Hitman 2-2 speaking, roger."
"This is Hitman 2-3, roger that Hitman-2."
One by one, each team leader responded to Lt Mistral's order on the radio, trying not to bunch up in the convoy.
Evan moves the steering wheel of the Humvee, causing it to swerve to the left, linking up with the massive convoy of the 1st Marine Division, made up of RCT-1, RCT-3, RCT-5 and RCT-7. Thousands of vehicles can be seen, stretching as far as the eye could see, ranging from M1A1 tanks, LAVs, Amtracs, Humvees, MTVR trucks and other vehicles, moving on the road. Civilians can be seen continuing with their life at the roadside, occasionally taking a look at thousands of vehicles moving on a single road, curious and sometimes a little scared, before going back to herding sheeps, Ma-nugas and selling fruits to the Marines in the convoy.
"Look at this shit boys, the 1st Marine Division, out of Camp Pendleton, Oceanside, California is rolling on one of the most important highway in all of the Empire, simply unchallenged." Simon smugly remarked as the 1st Recon's eighty vehicle convoy begin swerving to the left, joining the massive convoy.
He then points his hands towards the left at the massive convoy moving, like a column of ants returning to their home after a day's worth of searching for food. The Traveler begins taking pictures of the division column, advancing on the highway seemingly unchallenged by any enemy forces.
Doc Clancy is eating Pringles that they bought from Alnus PX, occasionally waving outside to the civilians, peeking out of their huts, not caring that there's thousands of Imperials and
countless civilians' bodies laying around, dead and riddled with bullet holes from yesterday's ambush.
For them, this is just everyday. Centurion-1 and Hitman-2 continues leading the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion into the convoy, finding enough room to fit the battalion in a single line, they moved beside 16 M1A1 tanks from 1st Tank Battalion, part of the division, the crews waving at the Recon Marines, prompting them to wave back.
"Hey! You guys got any porn flash drives?!" Evan shouts at the tankers with a cheeky grin, still waving at them.
"Fuck yeah! You guys want some?" The tanker shouts back, dropping down into his tank to pick up his 'stuff'.
"Yeah sure, we can use some to jerk off!" Evan replied immediately, causing everyone in the Humvee to chuckle, as the tankers threw their flash drive into the Humvee, hitting Evan in the head.
In front of them is Centurion-1, whose commanders and gunners are on the turret, eating chips and enjoying the views, it's quite beautiful, the plains extending as far as eye could see, they could even see the snowy mountains far north from here, while locals continues to watch them. The only thing ruining the scenery was the sound of the engine of the vehicles of the 1st Marine Division and dead bodies along the road, aftermath of the ambush on RCT-5, another part of the division.
It seems now they're in a military traffic jam, Simon immediately gets on the radio to ask Lt Mistral what happened.
"Hitman-2, this is Hitman 2-1, uhh, why is there a traffic jam in the MSR?" Simon asks, his voice a bit worried.
"Hitman 2-1, a supply truck flipped, they're trying to move it out of the way with Mike-88, out." Lt Mistral replied on the radio.
"Fucking supply POGs." Evan said, shaking his head at the clusterfuck in front of them.
Evan takes a peek outside, looking at the name or decorations Marines put on their Abrams, LAVs, Amtracs or even Humvee and supply trucks like MTVR. He just shakes his head at how corny and overused some of the names are.
"Sai, Doc, check this shit out." Evan said, peeking his head out to look at the names of the vehicles from another unit in the division beside them, loudly saying the names one by one,
Captain America
Rip and Tear Until It Is Done
Don't Tread On Me
Freedom Dealer
Saderans Don't Surf
Metallica
Murica Fuck Yeah?!
"Fuck man, I hate these goddamn cheesy-ass boot overused bullshit lines." Evan disappointedly exclaimed, taking a moment to spit outside in disbelief at how corny and overused the names are.
"You got a fucking point man, you sure as hell do Evan." Simon nodded in agreement, putting their friendly insult earlier aside, agreeing how corny and overused it is.
"It's like that song with America Fuck Yeah and blowing terrorists up? Fuck man! Brits blew them up too." Evan continues his rant, taking a bite from Clancy's Pringles.
"Back when we got back from the shithole that is Afghanistan, I was approached by this overweight edgy-ass fucking kid, no older than 15, who made military edits. Thinks he's cool 'cause he's racist and used 'based and redpilled' unironically in real life, fuck, he tried playing me that song and I was like 'Fuck off retard, I don't need to blast America Fuck Yeah 24/7 and fly a flag on my pick-up truck to show I'm patriotic, I'm a Recon Marine, that's patriotic enough'." Evan continues his story dejectedly, shaking his head now that he remembers it, taking another bite from Clancy's Pringles.
"That song is straight up fucking autistic and retarded, it belongs in a mental ward." Simon spoke up, looking at Evan with pity considering he had to deal with people blasting corny patriotic songs when he came back home.
"Hey Sai, how come we are stuck in a traffic jam?" Clancy grunted as he asked Simon, trying to find out why they're stuck in the highway.
"Some fucking retarded POGs thought he's a hot shit, tried moving at high speed, only for the truck to flip and get the whole convoy stuck in a traffic jam." Evan immediately replied on behalf of his team leader, slowly moving the Humvee so it wouldn't hit tanks of Centurion-1 that were in front of them and get crushed.
Simon is observing the fields outside, the Humvee, his elbows resting on the window, supporting his M4A1 as he peered through the ACOG, observing the curious locals, not knowing why is there thousands of strange metal wagons moving on Appia Highway heading towards Italica's direction.
"Italica, 20 leagues away, nice!" Clancy excitedly said, pointing his gloved hands towards a stone sign on the roadside, indicating how far away Italica is from their current position.
"At our current speed, we'd probably reach Italica by the next fucking morning." Evan jokingly remarked, with the as of yet unresolved traffic jam.
While 2-1 Alpha is busy complaining about their surroundings, 2-1 Bravo's driver and team leader, Allie and Dow, are singing their version of "Boyz In The Hood" at the top of their lungs, trying to annoy Nathan, who's sleeping with his poncho liner.
Car pulls up, who can it be?
It's 2-1 Bravo! In a Humvee!
I rolled down my window and I started to say,
It's all about killing Saderans today!
Cuz the boyz in the hood are always hard…..
Nathan meanwhile, is annoyed, trying to get some sleep after 3 days of absolutely no sleep besides some quick nap.
"Jesus fuck, why do you two always try to fucking annoy me? Ugh, are you two fucking each other or what?." Nathan grunted, trying to wake up, while the sun was high in the sky, blinding him for a moment.
"Yeah, got a problem? Maybe we did, maybe not." Allie shot back, smirking at Dow, who in turn smirks too.
"What the fuck was that smirk?" Nathan asked in a puzzled tone.
"Don't tell me you two-" Before he can continue, Dow cuts him off.
"Shut the fuck up bruh, next time don't call him a 'tropical Mexican'." Dow fired back at him, as he munched on the pound cake MRE, ignoring the smell of dead bodies along the road.
"What? Dude it's Cortez who said that?" Nathan responded immediately to Dow's remark, prompting Cortez, manning the M2 machine gun of the Humvee to kick him on the shoulder.
"Man don't tryna blame it on me, I'm Mexican, I got the pass to say that to Brazilians." Cortez spoke up, his hands still holding the trigger of the machine gun, while looking at Nathan.
After a beat, everyone laughs at the remark, even Nathan.
Allie meanwhile, is enjoying the scenery, trying to push the thoughts of dead bodies along the road away from his head, not wanting to get PTSD. He then takes out his camera that he bought after saving money for it. Taking pictures of the scenery, especially the locals and the mountains far north, as it is very tall, making it stand out, the most noticeable feature is the snowy part, as it reaches the clouds, blocking the other half from view.
"This is beautiful, don't ya think Dow?" Allie said as he turned his head towards his team leader, who was doing nothing besides eating MRE snacks, his M4A1 firmly on his lap.
"Yeah, this isn't some fucking safari for you to take pictures and shit." Dow replied, telling him to put away the camera.
"Come on man, lighten up, probably our last chance to enjoy the views before we enter Italica and start blowing up shit!" Allie continues persuading his team leader, trying to cheer him up with a smile.
"Fine, fine, I was just tryna think of home man." Dow finally gives in, his face still staring at the locals along the road, reminding him of his cousins, trying to distract himself from the traffic jam.
Dispersed on the side of the roads are LAV-AD, the air defense variant of LAV-25s, protecting the division's convoy from any Imperial Wyverns trying to attack them. Occasionally, they'd fire 1 or 2 Stingers missile towards the sky, hitting wyverns trying to attack them, blowing them up.
2-1 Alpha is relaxed, their guards lowered, especially considering they're traveling in a massive convoy full of tanks and other vehicles protecting them. Suddenly, a loud "thunk" noises startle the Traveler, who was sleeping, causing him to jump, surprising others.
"Traveler what the fuck was that?" Evan asked, startled by his sudden movement.
"I dunno, what the hell was that sound?" The Traveler replied, wanting to know where the sound came from.
"It was an LAV firing you fuck, they're finishing off stragglers from the ambush last night man, stop panicking." Evan immediately answered his question, calming him down.
"That's awesome, they better blow off the heads of those Imperials, and hopefully not hit civilians." Doc Clancy joins in their conversation, in a mix of excited and worried tone, with a hope for no civilians to be hit by their bullets.
"Hopefully." Kirito simply said, still in his turret position.
Simon stayed silent, firmly gripping the M203 under the barrel of his M4A1, munching on a gum as he gazed at the fields outside, filled with vultures feasting on the dead bodies of Imperials Legionnaires, occasionally disturbed by local shepherds as they accompany their sheeps eating the green grasses.
It's a calming sight to see that despite a massive, modern military operation underway less than 200 meters from their houses, they continued on with their lives, not minding the Marines besides a couple of curious gazes.
After two hours of being stuck in the traffic, the convoy has finally started moving smoothly again, as they're done dragging the flipped MTVR supply truck out of the way.
"Fucking finally!" Evan happily exclaimed, relieved that they're finally moving again.
"Don't get too excited, and try not to run into tanks of Centurion-1, I don't wanna get killed by your whiskey-tango ass getting excited heading to some medieval city." Simon said, trying to tease his driver and RTO after being teased by him all day long.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Evan simply replied, not caring about his insult, making Simon rolls his eyes
"Hey Sai, do you remember that episode of Filthy Frank where Green Cunt and Pink Guy dry-humped in the wilderness over a fucking radio?" Evan happily asks his team leader, chugging a can of Rip-Its, earning an exasperated sigh from Simon, as he is gonna go on his Rip-Its induced ramblings.
"It's a shame they didn't fuck for real in the video, they should fuck like crazy with cum flying all over the place and shit right?" Evan continues, which causes Simon to turn his head towards him, with an exasperated face, only saying,
"Evan."
"Yes Sergeant?" Evan turns his head towards him, grinning.
"Shut the fuck up" Simon simply tells him that, trying to focus on enjoying the scenery outside.
"Aye aye Sergeant~" Evan replied in a teasing tone, shutting up and continuing to drive the Humvee as the convoy began moving smoothly again.
"Man, you two can't have a single day without insulting each other in a friendly way, you guys are still friends after that, man." Kirito spoke up from the turret, breaking the silence.
Hearing this, Evan, Doc Clancy and Simon turns their head towards him, saying only,
"Shut the fuck up you yellow dog-eating cunt." The trio put their differences aside to insult the guy who tried stopping their friendly banter, causing the Traveler to laugh a little bit. The Traveler, meanwhile, is writing about their current situation in his notebook.
Meanwhile, Gunnery Sergeant Alex Mays and Lt Mistral are talking about random things, such as Gunny Mays' jerking off experience in Iraq back in 2003, when he used to be a low-ranking Marine.
"So Gunny, tell us more about your experience back in OIF 2003, sounds like you had a shitton of fun there." Lt Mistral asked, as he turned his head towards his driver, Gunnery Sergeant Alex Mays.
"Fuck yeah! Lt's right, tell us about your story." A voice came from behind them, it's 20-years old Damian Ritter, a Lance Corporal riding in their Humvee, his almost blacklike-like voice can be heard in the Humvee, as a result of growing up in a black neighborhood, being the few whites in his hometown.
Hearing this, Gunny Mays just chuckles, finally speaking,
"Well, there's this one time, where we took surrendering Iraqis near Al-Kut, one of them suddenly starts singing Stars Spangled Banner, trying to show he's patriotic and wants America or some shit right? Then there's this another time, where a guy, busted his urethra after jerking off 10 times a day, like for real, guy can't just stop jerking off inside the Amtracs we are in, I swear, one time his load hit another Marine, starting a fight." Gunny Mays began telling his story, chuckling a bit, while everyone else gags at the last part.
"Jesus man, busted urethra and jerking 10 times a day?" Lt Mistral asked, trying to not gag.
"Yeah. Actually, correction, at least 10 times a day." His driver corrects himself, causing everyone to crack up after a second of silence.
1st Recon eighty vehicle convoy continued their journey towards Italica together with the rest of the 1st Marine Division while artillery continues to fire next to them, bombarding the city with DPICM and normal HE rounds, DPICM being the cluster rounds, enough to shred medieval or Roman troops' positions with ease. While the normal HE rounds levels a building every time it lands.
Parked by the roadsides are the elements of the 11th Marine Regiment, comprised of M777 artillery and HIMARS rockets, bombarding Italica relentlessly, their cannons would jerked back every time they fired due to the recoils, the cannon cockers working around the clock to soften up the city, while the air force, navy and Marine Aviation flies sorties into the city, dropping JDAMs and other munitions into the city, leveling entire blocks of neighborhoods in one sortie.
10 Klicks southeast of Italica, 1st Reconnaissance Battalion's temporary camp (1940)
After being on the road for over 8 hours now, they have finally reached the outskirts of Italica, as everyone began wearing their PVS-31 NVGs, since the sun is going down and the night is setting in.
The Battalion is parked outside a small group of trees concealing their position, they're occupying a empty, grassy field next to the trees, watching the bombardment of the city, the Marines meanwhile are busy washing up, jacking off, eating snacks or just complaining about incompetent officers who didn't supply enough batteries for their NVGs, thermals and AN/PEQ-2 IR Lasers for targeting, forcing them to use them at low power, limiting their usefulness.
Instead of worrying about the upcoming assault of the city or the supply shortage, Hitman 2-1 is busy searching for the porn flash drive that they got from 1st Tank Battalion crews during the traffic jam, probably somewhere in the Humvee, they're going to jerk off ever since they started moving.
They're searching below their seats, checking if it has fallen down there, while Doc Clancy sleeps, wrapping his poncho liner around his body, trying to get some rest while the Traveler is eating M&Ms, smiling sightly watching Simon and Evan as they try to fight who gets to jerk off first.
"I found it! Fucking found it!" Simon exclaimed triumphantly, as he has beaten Evan in the race to find the missing flash drive
"How the fuck did you find it that fast?" Evan asked, bewildered by how fast his team leader found the flash drive.
"That's a secret. I'm gonna go jerk off, you keep your ears open on the radio." Simon ignores his question, telling him to stay inside the Humvee and monitor the radio instead.
"Yeah fine." Evan replied, albeit begrudgingly.
Evan walks back to the driver seat, sitting on it before breaking open his MRE, picking out the things inside it, trying to find a snack, he grabs a Skittles and begins eating it, watching the beautiful yet terrifying artillery and air bombardment of Italica.
The radio disrupts his gazing at the brilliant lights appearing on Italica every couple of seconds.
"Hitman 2-1 Alpha, this is Hitman-2 Actual, over." The voice on the radio spoke up, revealing it to be Lt Mistral.
"Send it, Hitman-2."
"I need 2-1 Actual on the comms." Lt Mistral asks for Simon who's not available, as he is currently busy doing some "business".
"2-1 Actual is not available, he is, well, having a combat jack." Evan immediately replied.
"When he returns, request him to meet me, Hitman-2 out." Lt Mistral, understanding what Evan just said, puts down the radio.
Meanwhile, behind Hitman 2-1's Humvee, Allie and another Marine, blackhaired and tall, are watching the bombardment of Italica, both of them leaning on 2-1 Bravo's trunk as they continue to shittalk about both of their cameras, typical friendly banter.
"So let me guess, Sebastian, you used your fucking rich-ass money to buy that 4k 60 FPS camera for the invasion, why did you even do that bruh, you're already rich aren't ya?" Allie asks, patting the other's Marine shoulder, who's name is Corporal Sebastian Alexander, 21-years old, the driver of Hitman 2-2 Humvee.
"Nah, just for memories and shit, I got bored so I decided to bring it from home." Sebastian replied to his question, trying to fix his NVG.
"Lucky you, rich-ass." Allie said, as he peered through his binocular, watching the spectacular show of explosions in the distance.
"Get good, you bitch-ass Tropical Mexican." Sebastian shot back at Allie, which unsurprisingly earned him a kick in the shoulder
"You two niggas tryna fight over who's gonna get more money when NBC buy your footage of war?" A loud black voice spoke up from behind. It's Dow, who's smiling at them having friendly banter.
"Nah, I'm too rich, no need to get some money by letting NBC or CNN or some other news channel buy my footage of war." Sebastian replied immediately, shrugging off at what Dow said.
"So you're bragging about your fucking money or what now?" Dow fired back at Sebastian, who immediately snapped his head at him.
"What the fuck Dow, I'm not a fucking hypebeast who shows off shit on internet and brag about money, I just said that I don't wanna sell the war footage bruh." Sebastian replied angrily, despite coming from a very rich family, he's one of the nicest guys in the platoon, not even bragging about his rich family, as long as people don't accuse him of being a wealthy bitch that brags, he'll be very cheerful.
"STOP THE FUCKING TALKING AND DIG A HOLE." A loud voice cut their conversation, everyone immediately turned their heads toward the voice, which came from Sgt Major Ackermann, prompting everyone to immediately fix their helmet and wear LWH properly, not wanting to get chewed out.
Hearing the voice, Nathan, Redman and Cortez stopped digging their fighting hole and went to fix their helmet.
"Ah fuck, here he comes." Allie mutters as he rolls his eyes, the Battalion Sergeant Major is here.
"I want none of you to take off your helmet or try to lazy off, before we step off, dig your fucking hole now." the Sergeant Major continues, chewing them for not wearing their LWH helmet properly, despite being in a safe area, an unnecessary thing to do.
"Hey you shit! Go fucking check your vehicle, stop lazing around." He turns towards Allie, only to be cut off by Dow just as he was about to chew him out.
"Corporal, go check our Humvee, make sure it's in good condition." Dow orders Allie to check their Humvee immediately, sparing him the wrath of Sgt Major Ackermann.
"Yes daddy~" Allie immediately follows his order, muttering sarcastically.
"Good, now get back to your fucking work and stop staring at me!" Sgt Major Ackermann continues for one last time, before leaving the area.
The Marines, who just got chewed off by him, shrugs him off, laughing about it in the meantime, Dow lets out a sigh, before heading towards Simon's Humvee to talk to him, who conveniently has returned from his combat jack, humming "Space Song" while opening the door of his passenger seat.
"How's your combat jack?" Clancy greeted him, as he woke up from his slumber, grunting as he adjusted his position.
"Good, I busted loads of cum." Simon replied immediately, fixing his FLC and PC Gen III Vest which he had taken off while doing his "business".
"Not as many as the ones in your ass Doc, after all the cock that has been stuffed in your hole." Evan spoke up, smirking towards Doc Clancy, who in turn smirked back at him.
"Man, we Marines are so homoerotic, you ever realized how many gay jokes we'd make in a single day?" Dow joins in the conversation, leaning on the hood of their Humvee, as he lights up a cigarette.
"That's bound to happen considering most wars are just 96% boring-ass stuff, jerking off, dealing with incompetent officers and waiting, while the other 4% is the fighting and terror, besides, we'd spend month without seeing a girl." Simon said as he turns his head towards Dow, who was taking a puff from his cigarette.
"Yeah he got a point Dow, you gotta make jokes about any shit that happens to be happy in this fucking shithole." Evan immediately agrees with Simon, while the Traveler is taking note of their conversation.
"Yeah, you two got a point dawg, really bro." Dow simply replied, his eyes staring at Italica.
Just then, Gunny Mays appears, tapping multiple times on the passenger door to let Simon know he's here.
"You guys doing good?" He asks, wanting to know if his men are fine after multiple days of constant movement.
"Yeah, my men are good, don't worry Gunny." Simon immediately replied to his question, taking a bite from Clancy's pringles.
"How about you Kirito, you've been standing on the turret all day long right?" Gunny Mays asks, as he moves his head upwards toward the Mark-19 turrets.
"I'm good Gunny, I'm good." A reply came from Kirito, who's busy manning the turret, looking for any enemy that might try to escape.
"Alright then, also Simon, Lieutenant wants to see you." Gunny Mays, satisfied with the answer, smiles, before turning his head towards Simon to let him know that Lt Mistral wants to talk with him. Dow meanwhile, returns back to his team, currently resting while Allie is checking their Humvee.
Hearing this, he turned his head towards Evan, grinning happily.
"Why the fuck didn't you tellme about this?" Simon asks Evan, his voice sounding unamused.
"Payback for not letting me jerk off first!" Evan replied, not missing a beat.
"Whatever." Simon said, rolling his eyes as he gets out of the Humvee and heads off to meet with Lt Mistral, who are currently standing between 2 tanks of Centurion-1, watching the artillery and air bombardment all by himself, brilliant lights can be seen every time an artillery or a bomb explodes, followed by black smoke rising.
Simon stops next to his platoon commander, turning his head towards him.
"What is it, sir?" Simon asks his superior, who is currently staring towards Italica.
"The situation isn't good, helos have been moving in and out of the city transporting wounded troops, they're still fighting after all the things we dropped onto them.." He immediately replied, grimly smiling as he turned his head towards his team leader leading Team-1.
"I got word from the Battalion HQ that they might send us into the city in a thunder run to reach the other side." Lt Mistral continues, his face exasperated.
"But sir, that's fucking dangerous, we might get shot at by friendly artillery due to confusio-" Simon interjected, before he can finish however, his superior immediately cuts him off.
"I know Sai, I know." Lt Mistral simply replied, the grim smile still on his face, as they both gazed at the city, still under artillery bombardment, producing beautiful streak of lights before hitting their target, making brilliant lights, while tracer and illumination rounds lit up the night sky.
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Note :
RCT - Regimental Combat Team, basically normal Marine Regiment with other units attached to it (for example, RCT-5 is 5th Marine Regiment with other units attached, RCT-7 is 7th Marine Regiment with other units attached and so on, you'll get the idea).
MTVR Truck - Medium Tactical Replacement Vehicle, a truck that Marines uses to transport their stuff like foods, supplies, ammo, medical equipment and some other stuff.
Whiskey Tango - white trash in NATO phonetic alphabet.
POGs - Not that pog, it means Person Other than Grunt in acronym, basically people who drive supply trucks, clerks and cooks in the military.
Boot - inexperienced marines who think they're cool and stuff.
Gunny - What Marines call Gunnery Sergeants for short, basically a nickname used by everyone in the Marines.
Fighting hole - what marines call foxholes.
Helo - short for helicopter.
OIF 2003 - Operation Iraqi Freedom, Invasion Phase back in 2003.
FLC and MTV Vest - FLC [Fighting Load Carrier] is the one that carries stuff, like rucksacks or some shit like MOLLE, MTV [Medium Tactical Vest] is the one that actually protects the wearer. (Note, I have retconned the retired MTV to the newer, lighter and better PC Gen III for the Marines' main plate carrier. Their purpose are similar.)
Once again, special thanks to CapitalistPaintrPyro/lunaticthatreads for proofreading