March 20th, 2017 of the Gregorian calendar

Tensions were high as Johnson from across the makeshift checkpoint watched his Saderan counterpart stand guard. It was weird that after two days of hard house to house fighting the two sides were now simply watching one another, suspicious of what the other side might do. The ceasefire would last until midnight when the slaughter would continue and that admittedly was something he dreaded. His enemy was far outclassed militarily but their will to fight was unmatched, the only contenders being islamic insurgents and the Japanese during WW2. He also didn't want to risk dying when the war was so close to finishing.

His eyes shifted to a Saderan who was staring at him from his post, probably thinking that same thing he was. The two kept eye contact for a some time before the Saderan began to walk up to him. Johnson only had stretched out barbed wire separating the two sides of the backstreet and he wasn't taking any chance of him just stabbing him with his spear so he took a step back before saying, "Halt! You can't go past!" This was enough to scare him into stopping just six feet away but he continued to stare at him.

"A-aquam...aquam." Johnson was confused, "Uh? What?" "Placere! Aquam." He using hand motion made him conclude that he wanted water. Hesitantly he pulled out his canteen and threw it at him, the Saderan fumbling it but in the end was able to keep himself from dropping it. He mumbled something before he practically ripped the cap off and chugged it down with astonishing speed. Johnson mentally cursed as he was handed back an empty canteen though it was understandable, he should've known the outcome but what as he gonna do?

The two then continued to stare at each other awkwardly as nobody was around or at least to their knowledge. "bellum execrari.." Muttered the Saderan. "Et maledic, qui imperator damnatus est!" His words were acidic but not directed at him, and by judging by his tone and context clues, he was probably talking about the empire or something to that light negatively. "I guess your pissed, huh? Well I don't blame you." He absolutely had zero idea what he was taking about but it didn't take away the fact that he was human just like him.

Then the Saderan legionnaire with his free hand took off his helmet to reveal a man somewhere in his twenties with walnut brown hair and creamy skin that was covered in dirt and dried blood, his bright blue eyes sticking out like a sour thumb. "Maximus..." With helmet in hand he thumped his chest, signifying that it was his name. He repeated it again and Johnson thought it was only appropriate to do the same. "Johnson.." Maximus pointed to himself, "Maximus.." Then to Johnson, "Johnson..." Saying his surname perfectly, almost like how a native english speaker would say it.

I'm in

Maximus put his helmet back on and shockingly, lets his spear drop to the ground before walking up to the wire. Again he took a step back and looked down to see an extended hand, awaiting a handshake. His pointed to the Saderan's hand. "You want a handshake?" Maximus understanding his gesture nodded. Although admittedly with some hesitance, Johnson and slung his weapon onto his shoulder and took his hand in his and the shake was firm as it was sloppy. "Pleasure to meet you." Said Johnson, "bonum tibi in occursum." Replied Maximus as these two soldiers, separated by language, culture, and uniforms made a connection not as enemies but as human beings.

Maximus withdraws his hand and pulls something out of his pocket, a single gold Suwani that had seen better days. Johnson nods as he takes and offering and places it into a pocket for safe keepings, before taking out an offering of his own. "Here, its a quarter." The silver piece of metal shining in the sun as with create care, Maximus took it and tucked it away. He nodded in appreciation and chuckled, saying something in his native language before pick up his spear and returning back to his post as if the interaction never happened.

Johnson did the same but not long after was replaced by another soldier, a similar thing happening on the other side of the barricade. It sucked to have to say goodbye, despite the two not understanding a single word coming out of each other's mouths. Maximus seemed to be an alright fella with hopes and aspirations just like him. But now they were back to being enemies who couldn't and wouldn't hesitate to kill the other if ordered to do so, he just hoped he wouldn't have to meet Maximus again, it was better that way.

Mars 20th, 688 of the Imperial calendar

"Damn this weather!" He cursed as he from the safety of his headquarters watched rainclouds form overhead. If it rained then his men wouldn't be able to fire back and would have to resort to charging the enemy like they did early in the war. He had been tasked with the defense of the capital and yet he lost a nearly half of the city including a pretty large chunk of his men with only this temporary ceasefire giving him breathing space.

The only reason it was in place was because he didn't want civilians interfering with the defense or worse collaborating with the enemy. Of course not all of them would be evacuated, after all, it'd give the troops a reason to fight even harder if there were still families in hiding. The noon sky darkened while the clouds blocked out the sun, the smell of dew assaulting his senses. Hopefully the powder would be dry just in time for the bloody fight to restart but fortune was in short supply these day and even more scarce in Sadera.

It would be dishonest to say he didn't find the abstained of battle to be calming, to finally enjoy a day where he wasn't constantly worrying if he could be claimed by the next explosion. But like all good things, it didn't last long. "General Mudra!" He turned to see a dirty messanger walk up to him before saluting. "State your business bothering me soldier." "Men of the 3rd century, 44th legion have begun demanding that they'd be given permission to surrender and refuse to man their posts." Mudra was absolutely enraged by such blatant cowardice.

"What is their status now!" He barked, the messenger fumbling on his words. "They've housed themselves in a tavern and drank themselves almost to a stupor, any attempts to communicate with them have been met with violence." And now it was a full blown mutiny, it had to be stopped before more units rebelled. "Tell Gimlet to get as many men as he can to crush the rebels, if the enemy gets a whiff of this they'd roll over us." "Understood!" The messenger saluting and ran as fast as he could to tell the head of the Oprichnina.

Mudra then went back to his thought as he took out smoking pipe and took a nice ling drag, easing his worn out nerves. He had never smoked before the war but after the failed invasion from the gate it quickly became his go to thing to alleviate times of stress. It was his duty to serve the empire till his last breath and if smoking help him then he'd smoke on. 'Perhaps I should pray today.' He thought to himself. 'Might as well tie loose ends while he have the chance.' He was never a very religious man but he did give patronage from time to time.

He could hear the sound of kanoni fire long before he arrived at the scene which aggravated him more then he already was. He turned the corner to see Oprichnina kanoni-shooters exchanging pop shots with the mutineers in the tavern that sat at the end of a intersection with the main way of entry being the open street where the only cover was scattered carts and the bodies of dead comrades. He despite the ensuing battle walked up to a Oprichnina officer and grabbed him by the collar and yelled, "What the hell's going on?! Why haven't you crushed them yet?"

"G-general, the rebels have stockpiled large amounts of solin and kanonis inside. It doesn't help that our men are being bottlenecked sir." "Tell me something I don't know." The Oprichki cleared his throat before saying, "We have a wheeled kanoni arriving in a few minutes to blast them out." At the very least this was good but he feared that the Americans would use this chaos to their advantage. It thankfully hadn't begun to rain yet so they had time but not much to dislodge the defense.

Finally the artillery piece was rolled into place as the crew then began to hastily load the weapons under fire. Mudra covered his ears as the weapon let off and blasted a hole in the upper floor. Then after the kanoni is reloaded a second hole is blasted into the ground floor, giving the Oprichnina an opening to rush through. Under the covering fire of hand-kanoni, men equipped with close quarters weapons charge in and screams can be heard as Oprichki and rebel like are slain but in the end no rebel exits the building.

March 20th, 2017 of the Gregorian calendar

General Kowalski watches the drone footage of Oprichnina forces clear out a tavern supposedly held by mutinying soldiers, unaware that they were being watched. This fortunately wasn't the only instances of rebellion as numerous soldiers ran across the front line to surrender in groups up to ten men all day. So far about as many as one hundred and twenty had given themselves up and were send to Camp Albany where they would be interned for the duration of hostilities. But even so the vast majority of troops stayed in their positions and it was confirmed by drone footage that they were indeed finishing up the final touches to their hastily built defenses.

Even with half of the city occupied the morale of US forces in Sadera had for the first time began to drop. His soldiers were paranoid of sharpshooters or hidden muskets rigged to doors by strings which were causing a considerable amount of wounded. They still were more then willing to fight, it was just that they had finally become exhausted physiologically. And it didn't help that they had finally reached far into enemy territory that suppling the men with weapons, ammunition, medical aid, etc. was becoming an issue.

Now the situation wasn't dire but he had still needed to fix the issue. So he had the day before ordering the 36th airlift squadron to load its C-130J Super Hercules with supplies that would be dropped. Sure he could just have it delivered by truck but it could be the fastest way to het supplies nearly a thousand miles from Alnus to Sadera. Since it would take more time to unload the supplies from the planes unto trucks, the plan was to drop them behind the lines where vehicles already at or around the front could pick them up and transport them directly to the troops.

It was less then ideal but it would get the job done and his men would have all the tools needed to get the job done. Then he watches them exit the building as they drag out their wounded before throwing numerous lit torches inside the tavern, to burn the establishment to the ground. "Do we have any other sightings of mutiny in the Saderan lines?" He asked the Drone operator and she shook her head. "No sir, not that we are aware of."

'Damn it.' He mentality cursed but it was still fine. "How about those caravans? Is the city clear of any civilians?" He wanted no more hiccups with the operation and wanted it done soon. "It appears that most of the rear has been cleared but it seems many of the civilians close to the front haven't yet been evacuated, it's possible they're being held hostage." Of course they would, Zorzal wanted to make this as painful as possible for both the attacker and non-combatants for their so called 'cowardice'.

March 21st, 2017 of the Gregorian calendar

The stready chugging of the 50. Cal along with the chaotic fire from riflemen was all but deafening as marines blasted away at the attackers trying to, unsuccessfully, dislodge them from the apartment building they occupied. Wake and the marines under his command were to use the building as a forward post to draw out the enemy in useless counterattack much like Apostle hill and other battles in the Dumas campaign. From the attic he could see through night vision binoculars the Voldraden troops who unlike their human counterparts could see in the dark but even so they were quickly forced into cover or face certain doom charging the fixed machine gun nests.

Seeing that the Voldraden weren't going to push any further, he radioed in a mortar strike root them out. He didn't have to wait long as high pitch whistling could be heard but the Voldraden made began a hasty retreat out in the open before then though this had not saved then from their grizzly fate. Unexpectedly the night lit up as bright white clouds illuminated the night with the howling of humanoid screams could be heard. He wasted no time getting back onto the radio. "This is Tango-1, I didn't fucking ask for white phosphorus!" He shouted as he watched hundreds of lights, almost like fireflies, gently glide down as the yard was covered in toxic smoke. "Tango-1, this is Bravo-3. It's all we got, over." "Well I don't appreciate my men being gased, out!" He immediately end the transmission and quickly radioed to his men to put on gas masks. They originally were intended filter air for expected subterranean combat against Saderan entrenchments but instead were going to combat the fumes that had claimed the Voldradens who could be heard suffocating while unseen holes were burned through their flesh.

Even with his gas mask on it was somewhat hard to breath, but thankful that neither him or his men were caught in the deadly shower outside. Then in the distance, flashes of bright silver lit the night sky before a shower of white descended down. "The fuck?!" He says out loud as he turns to his second in command major Dejesus. "Are you seeing this shit?!" It was more of a statement then a question but the message was the same. "I didn't hear anything of white phosphorus from command." Replies Dejesus as the two marines watch the spectacle from the safety of the attic. "It's Iraq all over again..." He remarks, his words causing Wake to reminisce his tour in Iraq during the occupation.

As most of the smoke began to disperse he looked on to see possibly hundreds of bodies that had been charred beyond recognition and the air smelled of burned flesh while he could literally hear sizzling. The lieutenant colonel thought he saw movement among the corpses but dismissed it as his eyes playing tricks on him and besides, anyone caught in white phosphorus without the right tools immediately being implemented would without a shadow of doubt suffer a slow, agonizing death.

Mars 21st, 688 of the Imperial calendar

His eyes burned and his lungs felt as if they were on fire as he had a dash into some ruins to hide from the sparkles that gave off toxic fumes and latched themselves onto the skin of those unfortunate enough to be in their web of death. Maximus used his dirty and raggedy cap to cover his mouth and nose in order to keep the smoke out but it was one hundred percent smoke proof as he coughed harder then he ever did in his life. About twenty or so men had joined him in their shelter while the rest of the group were nowhere to be seen, more the likely dead.

The enemy in accordance to their promised attacked them first thing at midnight, forcing them into cover. But quickly they changed to weapons that exploded in the air and sprayed this magic of the underworld upon them. At first they thought it was flares to reveal their positions but it was dashed as the skin of soldiers began to peel off as they screamed like banshees from the hellish pain. He had been lucky enough to be near cover when they began to fall but he'd get to see the after effects first hand as a wailing man came flying through the doorway and falling face first onto the floorboard.

About two dozen of these silver sparkles were on his body, giving off smoke as he could literally see his skin cook. The sparkles then touched the ground with a light thud with blood dripping from the holes burning through the body, also burning through the wood all while the man spasmed while crying like an infant in destress with its mother. What was left of his uniform was smoldering, the torso armor melting together with cooked flesh, parts of his skin that hadn't fallen off having bubbles pop from the heat while bone and muscle could be seen in the limbs. "K-K-KILL ME PLEASE!!!" He begged as bloody tears dripped by from the eye not charred black, his agony put to an end with one hard thrust of a hasta spear to the head, making an squishy sound as his nerves caused the muscles to twitch for the last time. "War is madness..." He told himself, "The gods have abandoned us." Even the most patriotic or optimistic of them couldn't argue so agreed in silence.

Oh, hi there! *Sweats profusely while looking at calendar* It's been a while. This is more then likely the only chapter for February but we're getting there. 20 months later and we've reached the middle of the end. I didn't expect this to blow up as much as it did and I deeply appreciate it. As of writing these 186 favorites, 224 followings, and 133 reviews; All from you guys! I hope you stay for the final and I bid you temporarily farewell.