UPDATE: NEW PROLOGUE
Major Simi | I'm glad that you enjoyed the previous chapter!
UH-60 Nightstalker | I'm sorry about that. Both you and TophatGuy pointed that out. While I still do write long chapters, I'm avoiding trying to data dump unneeded exposition. Forgive me as I'm still learning to write.
rdawamindra | Actually, I've never played the new Modern Warfare game. The reference was a complete coincidence XD
The Guest | I'm sure the Philippine Forces are hanging around Camp Fuji somewhere ;)
A Pile of Empty Brass | Sora no shinchū no yama
空の真鍮の山
Chapter 3
"A Resonance Cascade"
"The military might of a country represents its national strength. Only when it builds up its military might in every way can it develop into a thriving country." – Kim Jong-un
Location: Alnus Hill.
Aurelia Road.
Currently in at base of the Holy Hill of Alnus.
Date: Julian Day 189. Calendar year 572.
Time: 10:25 Hours.
Alnus Hill.
There were many things that describe the mountainous region the sacred hills formed upon. There were abundant villages and small towns were scattered in the vast and mountainous domain, the people having an identity and culture of their own. The region itself was in the eastern most part of Imperial controlled territory, right on the outskirts. Despite being far away from Imperial control, it was a surprisingly quiet and peaceful region, the ideal place for older gentlemen to settle down and raise a family, or if one wanted to escape the chaotic city life.
The typically lush green grass that gave the region life was covered by thick blankets of white snow, the grey clouds blocking any sunlight from getting through. A few shrubs, still retaining their lime green leaves, stuck out from the white, icy blanket in isolated pockets. One would have to wait until the winter months were over to see the vibrant colours and wildlife that Alnus offered. A reality that is only a month away as the continent of Falmart was almost through its winter cycle.
However, despite the awe inspiring view, even if it was covered in snow, there was a large anomaly that rested on the top of the Holy Hill. A large anomaly that one could not ignore should they gaze their eyes upon it. Resting on top of the uppermost hill was a bright glowing orb of blue energy, casting a faint illumination upon the blankets of white snow that covered the hills. The orb itself was easily the size of a small house, static dancing around the glowing spherical anomaly.
On one of the snow covered roads leading to the divine hills stood three horses, each one supporting a rider who bore the colours of the Imperial Army. Light metal armour was worn over their thick layers of clothing that kept them warm for the harsh winter weather, but the simple decorations implied their ranks were on the lower end of the military hierachy. Despite the apparent low position they held within the Imperial Army, the task that was assigned to them was of utmost importance.
Every mission assigned to them was always of importance, but glancing at the spherical object on the hill currently made them the three most important men in Falmart.
"Are you sure this is the one?" The middle rider spoke, his young face fixed with determination, yet uncertainty.
"I have no doubt in my mind about it," answered the eldest of the three, his wolf pelt covered in flakes of white snow. "This is the portal of the fables…"
"By Emory…" The last one of them said, gripping his horse's steer tightly.
The three horsemen made their way from the road towards the base of the hill the portal hovered above, the journey taking maybe thirty minutes or so. None of the men said anything while they steered their horses on the trails, feelings of dread and anticipation flowing in them. The closer they got to the portal, the more it felt as if the damned thing would expand outwards and gobble the men whole, forever entrapping their souls within the confines of its celestial-like light. They stopped their horses a couple of meters away, each of them wordlessly staring into the white-blue spherical abyss.
"So the fables are true, then…" the youngest rider said absently, the eldest one slightly turning his head to glance at the young rider. "I thought it was nothing more than a mere children's tale, to actually witness a portal before my very eyes…"
The elder couldn't blame the young Imperial scout. The fables of this elusive portal were inconclusive and often embellished at best. One would be forgiven if they discounted the tales of it completely. Even now, standing right before its might, he still couldn't believe that what he grew up listening to as a child was a reality right in front of him.
"Principal, you know what this signifies, right?" The other rider asked the elder scout, an edge of excitement in his voice.
"Enlighten me, Placus." Principal Nigilius said, his breath visible in the crisp cool air.
The other rider, Placus, steered his horse to fully face the Principal ranked scout. "Alnus Hill has always been of significant importance to our religion. Coinciding with Saderan lands for as far as any of us can remember."
"I'm well aware of the significance of Alnus Hill, Placus." Nigilius replied, his eyebrows raised behind the brim of his helmet. "But what is the point that you're trying to make?"
"The portal appearing here means that Emory has answered our prayers at last!" Placus proclaimed, "The fables always tell that the other side of the portals lay vast amounts of lands as far as the eyes can wonder. Edibles ripe for picking! Iron and Minerals that could tip our economy back from the brink!" Placus directed his horse towards the portal, gulping as he stared into the light. "It is my duty to see what is on the other side!"
"Easy with your ambition, Placus," Nigilius warned, "I know securing vital resources for The Empire is of the utmost importance, but our mission is simple reconnaissance. Not undertaking what lays beyond the other side."
"How do we know if this portal didn't decide to open in a barren hellscape?" Placus countered, trying his best to sound convincing. "We could save the Emperor time and resources should we scout ahead inside the portal!"
"We have our orders, Placus," Nigilius reminded, the other horseman casting an annoyed expression. "It's out of our hands, anyway. Only our glorious Emperor will decide the next course of action. We're just the men that let the hierarchs know that the existence of this portal is confirmed instead of rumoured. Nothing more. Nothing less."
Placus opened his mouth to offer another rebuttal, but the look Nigilius gave him caused him to hold his tongue. With a low sigh as he blew out a visible cloud of breath, he simply turned his head to continue his gaze at the pulsating portal. Nigilius could sympathize with the boy.
"Do you think Emory smiles upon us?" the young scout said, his gaze at the portal yielding uncertainty.
Nigilus managed to place his hand on the boy's shoulder, turning his head to the leading scout at Nigilius smiled warmly at him. "I'm certain that this will be the miracle our empire needs, Minos. Rest assured, positive and bright days are ahead of us." Nigilus reassured, Minos returning his gaze with a small smile of his own, lowly nodding his head.
"We've wasted enough time here marveling at this majestic miracle," Placus pointed out, his horse becoming wary of being near the portal. "We must report this to the Centurion Wyskar, then make haste back to the Imperial Capital!"
"Very well," Nigilius nodded, gripping the steering straps on his horse's harness. "Let us make haste then, shall we? The Senate is a few days away and His Majesty will be eager to hear the news."
With a nod, the three horsemen steered their horses back to the road that led to their Imperial Capital city. Multiple thoughts were going inside the Principal's mind, his hands tightly gripping the leather straps. In a few days, he will learn of the decision of The Emperor in regards to how to proceed from these abnormal developments. Recalling the tales he heard growing up, the vast lands of resources and the teams that undertook the journey to import the things that lay on the other side, Nigilius felt something he had not felt since he was still an innocent adolescent ignorant of the world.
Hope.
Location: Combined Arms and Training Center Fuji (Camp Fuji)
Camp 2B
Currently in the tree line on the outskirts of Main Combat Training Ground 2 Bravo.
Date: July 1st, 2020
Time: 22:58 Hours
Why the hell did I volunteer for this?
The unspoken question screamed in Lance Corporal Hilaire's mind at the very same instant the mosquito whined in his ear for the third time inside a minute. Automatically, he swatted at the side of his head, once again trying to drive the incessant bug away.
"Hilaire," a voice hissed from a few meters to his right. "Keep quiet. You'll give our position away." The voice belonged to Corporal Jaree King, the Squad Leader of 3rd Squad.
What, and talking won't? Hilaire had not known Corporal King long before the training exercise began. However, it did not take long to know that King spat, shat, and breathed "Motivation".
Lowly shaking his head, he reached up to wipe the perspiration from his face. The foam pads inside his ECH Kevlar were soaked through, thanks in no part to the oppressive July humidity. Summer heat, working in tandem with heavy rainfall in recent weeks, had also given full bloom to armadas of mosquitos that were out in force tonight. Even though Hilaire had doused himself with insect repellent before leaving their unit's base camp, sweating had diluted its effectiveness.
Nothing could be done about it now, though. The thirteen-man rifle squad established an ambush position and silence at this point was crucial to the success of their mission. If the information King had briefed them with was correct, they would be encountering an enemy patrol while it was conducting its own security sweep of the area.
Hilaire would also be participating in the ambush, his own magazine in his M4A1 fully loaded with thirty rounds. Though in reality, he probably shouldn't have been there on the frontlines actively engaging the OPFOR units. He should've been in the rear echelon far enough away from the danger, yet close enough to capture the ambush that was about to take place. Yet at the same time, the nature of their mission couldn't afford lone wolves that could jeopardize the squad.
"You think the Chinese or whoever we fight are going to care that you're just a cameraman?" Staff Sergeant Sharpe's words from earlier that week echoed inside his mind as he shifted his legs laying against the soft earth. "You're just another target as far as they're concerned! You wanna be in the shit with us? Fine! But for the duration, you're going to live, shit, and breathe the grunt lifestyle! You're going to be carrying the standard infantry load and pull your weight around my platoon! Every Marine is a rifleman! Everything else is secondary! 'Rah?!"
What an asshole.
Looking to his left, Hilaire regarded his companions, nestled as he was among underbrush that conspired with the darkness to render his squad nearly invisible in the forest.
Unless they had NODs with thermal detection capabilities. But those were often SOF toys too expensive to field to regular ground units. As well as cheating.
Cerberus 3-1, their squad's callsign, had taken up positions along one of the numerous trails that crisscrossed this part of the forest, arranging themselves in a line that followed the end of the trail perhaps ten meters inside the trees. King had informed them during their briefing that this trail led to an enemy camp.
Cerberus 3-1 had fast-marched to this point along the trail, which King had chosen as the ideal site for an ambush. They've established sectors of fire that allowed each Marine to interlock with the men to either side, creating a kill zone from which no member of an enemy patrol would be able to escape.
Artis, Aronov, Xiong, and Jackson were out there in their ambush positions. Like him, his fellow Marines had taken care to conceal themselves behind fallen logs, thick bamboo brushes, anything that could break up their outline and hide them from even the most attentive pair of eyes.
A nearly full moon hovered in the cloudless sky, bathing everything in its soft, ghostly illumination. No one moved, spoke, used their flashlight, or even smoked a cigarette, as the telltale glow from even a cigarette butt could be enough to reveal their location. So long as they did not make any stupid mistakes, their enemy would never know the squad was here until it was too late.
Movement!
His mind screamed the warning at him before his eyes even fully registered the nearly imperceptible motion up the trail. Perhaps fifty meters away, the movement was so slow, so methodical that at first Hilaire thought he had imagined it. Darkness could play tricks on the human eye, after all. At first, his eyes registered nothing but a patch of forest, looking very much like just a clump of trees.
Then it moved again.
To Hilaire's left, King pointed to his eyes and then down the trail in the same direction Hilaire had been looking, letting the Cameraman know he had seen it as well.
The hand signal was unmistakable: Enemy ahead.
Now that he knew what he was looking at, Hilaire began to make out the shadowy form of a figure walking slowly up the trail and hugging the outside curve of the dirt road where the shadows helped conceal him. His steps were measured and precise, each one taken with care so as not to step on anything that might make a noise and reveal his presence. He carried his rifle with the barrel lowered and out in front of him, as if searching for potential targets.
Behind the first figure, Hilaire could begin to make out the form of a second and then a third, each man kept a distance of five or so meters between himself and the man in front of him. As the point man continued to move slowly forward, Hilaire mentally counted until no more came from the darkness. Six in total. Was there all there was? King didn't give them any information on enemy size or strength.
Hilaire tightened his hand on the M4's forward grip, the barrels of his weapon already facing straight ahead within the area defined as their field of fire. He didn't need to do anything but wait until the enemy soldiers entered the kill zone established for the ambush.
Come on, just a little bit closer…
With his Heart rate increasing with every second that passed, he kept his breathing under control, anticipating the coming firefight. He studied the movements of the enemy, his trigger ready for any sudden movements they made.
The six figures moved in the same slow, deliberate manner, each man's weapon swinging in a slow arc from one side of the trail to the other in search of danger. The rearmost soldier was taking the added precaution of turning to look back the way they had come, looking for threats to their rear.
Hilaire held his breath as the patrol came abreast of the hidden ambush positions, the point man looking in their direction. His brain knew that his squad was all but invisible to observation even if they had NODs. But that did nothing to stop the lump from forming in his throat when the front man looked directly at where he lay hidden among the trees.
A little bit more, he knew. Only a few more paces and the entire patrol would be in the kill zone.
Hilaire thought he had imagined the thoomp! of a M203 40mm grenade launcher firing, Corporal King's signal to launch the attack. He had not. The chalk round impacted the rear-most soldier, blanketing him in a shower of white powder.
In that same instant, the squad opened fire. The attached M240 machine gun team let loose, the gunfire loud and rhythmic. Then, a sudden hot searing pain in his neck.
"Motherfucking Jesus Christ!" his words were lost as thunder roared from the forest in the form of the sharp metallic reports from the squad's M4 and M27 rifles. His gloved hand came up, frantically grasping at the object in his neck. After a few, panicked seconds, a brass casing came away in his hands.
Corporal King was the one closeby, ejector port facing him.
Son of a bitch.
"Machibuse!" somebody yelled from the road as the six soldiers at first ducked instinctively and then turned in the direction of incoming fire.
Hilaire squinted in the darkness, firing his M4 in quick sessions. Vision probably wouldn't have been an issue for him had he not opted to mount his Go-Pro on his kevlar in place of where the NVGs should be.
Despite his self-inflicted handicap, the effect of their attack was immediate
Their opponents were falling back, dragging the wounded casualties that were victims to the 40mm round. Hilaire heard the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath their boots as they plunged backwards where he and his squad remained situated between the trees. Spotting movement to his right, Hilaire pointing his rifle in that direction. The dark figure heading in his direction ducked behind a tree at the prospect of having a weapon pointed at him.
"Contact right!" Hilaire called out, trying to keep a low profile as the symphony of gunfire rang around him.
Then another casualty came.
A shrill high-pitched whistle pierced the air, easily heard over even the sounds of their weapons fire. No sooner did Hilaire register the noise that a second shriek followed, signaling another kill.
Damn it, they were winning! This thing would be over in a few seconds.
Then another wailing screech filled the air and he realized it was coming from his own body.
The Instrumented Tactical Engagement Simulation System, or ITESS Gear, was a series of sensors attached to a harness he worked over his combat gear. Replacing the older MILES gear, the ITESS had since become the standard equipment in military training exercises in simulating ground combat.
The sensors, working in conjunction with a special laser transmitter attached to the barrel of their weapons, allowing trainees to employ their respective weapons as they would in a real battle situation.
Isaac Hilaire's sensors were registering a direct hit.
He had seen the figure emerge from behind the tree less than three meters in front of him, but he had been a sitting duck with no way to get his weapon turned fast enough before the intruder opened up on him. Then there was the telltale muzzle flash just before his ITESS vest betrayed him.
"Bang," the intruder taunted him, barely audible over the racket his ITESS vest was creating. "Anata ga shinde iru."
Was that a Fist of the North Star reference? Really?
Hilaire was about to offer a colourful replay when he was cut off by weapons fire from his left. Then the intruder's own ITESS gear started to shriek, followed by a similar sound uttered by its stunned wearer.
"Chikushō!" he silently cursed, the reflecting moonlight casting a light on his youthful features, his rank on his collar signifying him as a sergeant.
"You're dead, too." Corporal King countered, stepping forward with his rifle at the ready.
There was a long silence that echoed across the terrain, save for the shrieks of multiple ITESS vests going off. The assault team did a recon of the area, making sure all threats in the AO were neutralized. After what seemed like several minutes, a voice coming from one of the broken shrubs shouted the words everyone was anxious to hear.
"Area clear."
"Corpsman!" King said in a voice barely above a whisper.
Wilkes slowly jogged over, the rustling of the grass audible with each stride he took until the Corpsman was next to Hilaire. Setting his war-bag down, the Devil-Dolphin looked at the ITESS reading where the sensors registered the hit. The Corpsman quickly scribbled something in permanent marker on a square notepad before quickly pinning it on Hilaire, a slight look of regret as he apologetically looked at the Combat Cameraman.
Hilaire quickly glanced at what was scribbled on the notepad, squinting in the darkness as his eyes registered the black handwritten font.
Sucking chest wound. Nice.
"Sorry dude," Wilkes said quietly. "But you're totally fucked."
Some Marines emerged from their hiding places, albeit keeping a low profile in case there were more enemy troops within the area. He was glad Milo was not amongst them, The other cameraman embedded with the command section. Otherwise, he would've never heard the end of it.
"How does it feel motherfucker?" Lance Corporal Jason Uriarte asked Hilaire in a low voice. "How does it feel to be dead?"
Uriarte was someone Hilaire became acquainted with before the long march to where the war games were hosted. Though he couldn't see it, Hilaire imagined Uriarte sported a shit-eating grin.
Shooting an annoyed glare, Hilaire decided to humour the Terminal Lance. "Sucks because I'm apparently stuck in purgatory where I'm cursed to keep glancing upon your lovely face."
Hilaire almost missed it with the low illumination, but Uriarte gave the cameraman a wink, followed by a complimentary air-kiss blew towards him.
"Noooo!" Artis cried out, dramatically clutching his chest above his heart. "They got my boy, Hilaire!"
"RIP," Jackson added, tipping his Kevlar in mock respect.
Hilaire just shrugged, already knowing he was not going to be living this down any time in the near future. Despite the utter fuck-up on his end, King did not direct his attention towards him. At least, not immediately. Rather, he proceeded to head over to where the OPFOR patrol was currently recovering from the ambush. King found the section leader, the JGSDF sergeant that teased Hilaire earlier.
"You're supposed to attack through the ambush, and keep attacking until all the ambushers are dead." King lectured the JGSDF Team-Leader, who shrugged as he stepped back.
"I know all that, but when I heard all the vests going off, I figured it was over." he replied in surprisingly good, albeit heavily accented English, his smiling lips reminiscent of a feline in one of those neko-anime cartoons.
"You sure you wanna have that attitude if shit were to pop off for real?" King questioned, slightly taken aback by how nonchalant the Japanese sergeant was about being a casualty.
"Of course not." He shot back, while still retaining that nonchalant smile. "Only difference is that this is just training and not the real thing. My attitude would be different if this combat was real."
"Fight as you train, train as you fight." King countered, sliding the key into the JSDF Sergeant's ITESS vest, finally killing the annoying shriek that bellowed from it. "If you have that attitude now, it's only going to bite you in the ass once shit hits the fan."
The Sergeant only shrugged his shoulders, lightly sighing as he moved his shoulders. "Well, you're not wrong, I suppose. I'll try to have a better attitude next time I patrol."
"Don't try. Do." King spat, moving over to Hilaire to unlock his ITESS vest, silencing its loud wails. "Don't forget, you're leading a team whose lives depend on every action you make. A complacent attitude breeds errors and gets people killed. Like with what just happened now."
The Sergeant nodded, looking up at the sky, seemingly reflecting on King's advice of his careless attitude. At least, Hilaire assumed that he was in deep thought. The low illumination obscured his figure, looking like an abstract statue.
"Dawg, how you gon' be our only casualty out here?" King's question broke Hilaire out of his thoughts, his mind fumbling for an excuse to give.
"I thought my shots made their mark, Corporal. I didn't see anyone else firing on me until it was too late." It wasn't the best excuse Hilaire could've come up with, but it was the first excuse that immediately popped in his mind. "I'll be careful, next time, Corporal."
"Next time?" King snickered as Hilaire slid off his ITESS vest. "Bruh, you're dead. There isn't a next time for you." Hilaire silently folded his ITESS vest while King stood there, folding his arms like a stern parent. "You gotta have that mind-state of do-or-die. In combat, there are no do-overs. No second chances. You get killed, that's it. No reset button. You gotta be on your A-game out here. You have Marines depending on every action you take and vice-versa. Personally, I considered this mission an absolute failure from here on out."
"A failure?" Hilaire stammered, staring into King, his dark silhouette unreadable in the nightly outdoors. "Why, Corporal? The ambush was successful."
"No, Hilaire. We've lost you. We took a casualty and now that's a letter I got to write to your family." King pointed out, rubbing the sweat on his forehead underneath his Kevlar, before getting on his radio. He went on the nine-line, calling for a MEDEVAC on his current position.
"You know the drill," King said, pointing his finger to the ground. "Gotta play dead until the MEDEVAC team comes by to pick you up."
"Fuuuuuuuuck…" Hilaire groaned, unslinging his rifle as he proceeded to lay flat on his back as instructed, staring at the stars above.
"Y'all too." King said, pointing at the six "dead" JSDF soldiers. The group looked at each other in confusion before the Sergeant translated to his team in Japanese. Shrugging once more, the Sergeant laid on the ground next to Hilaire, the others following suit.
"Why y'all just standing around for?!" King shouted at the squad gathered around the pile of "dead". "This ain't y'all's first rodeo! Provide a security perimeter around the casualty until the MEDEVAC team arrives!"
"Aye, Corporal!" Members of 3rd Squad shouted, dispersing to take defensive positions to protect both the casualties and the incoming medical team. The Marines once again used the environment to conceal their outlines, their weapons pointing outwards to provide a three-sixty degree security.
Hilaire continued to stare up at the night sky, getting lost in the twinkling spots of lights above. He was happy that this little part of the exercise was over so they could hot foot it back to the squad bays for the beer and pizza Captain Bannon promised.
Yet at the same time, there was an irritation festering inside him. He was a casualty. And not just a casualty, the only casualty that 3rd squad suffered, a fact that was not sitting well with him. It probably wouldn't be so bad if there was another one in the squad that was a casualty, even if it wasn't fatal.
Yet here he was, laying alone on the ground waiting to be lifted out of there while burdening the squad to keep him secured instead of directly pressing on with the mission.
A burden.
Did he suck that bad as a Marine? Was he not meant for being in combat without being a hindrance? He wasn't a grunt that was accustomed to the trials and errors of combat and training exercise, but he liked to think he had the skills to at least survive a hostile contact engagement. Yet obviously, that wasn't the case if he was laying on the soft earth, waiting to be picked up and whisked away from the battlefield.
It unnerved him.
"Well… this sucks, ne?" The Japanese Sergeant asked in a low whisper, interrupting the Lance Corporal's deep self-reflection as he felt a light nudge on his shoulders.
"Could be worse…" Hilaire answered casually, putting on his best nonchalant smile, even if he could barely be seen in the dark. "We could actually be dead, ya know?"
"Fortunately for the both of us, that isn't the case." he smiled, his lips once again seemingly morphing into the shape of a feline. "Saw you looking kind of down over there. Don't beat yourself up over this too much."
Hilaire snorted, furrowing his eyebrows. "Jesus, am I being that obvious?"
"Kinda," The Sergeant answered, a light shrug following suit. "But hey, being lifted back to HQ instead of hauling ass all the way back? Being dead out here has its perks."
Hilaire simply nodded, once again looking at the stars above. "For a dead guy, you seem to have a positive outline on the situation at hand."
"Nah. Just trying to turn your frown upside down."
"Well," Hilaire paused, turning to face the smiling Japanese Sergeant. "It worked, I guess."
The two snickered some more, just lying on the dirt while 3rd Squad continued to provide a secure perimeter. Soon, their ears picked on the distant telltale sound of diesel engines, gravel being displaced from the weight of heavy rubber tires. Hilaire glanced his head up to see the telltale shape of two medical humvees flying down the road. Their headlights were off so as to not advertise its, or 3rd Squad's, position to any enemy forces that might be nearby.
The Humvees slowed down at the lit chemlights that the squad threw down on the road to signal the lead driver their position on the road. The lead Humvee came to a complete stop, King and some of the Marines running low towards the side door of the passenger.
"You boys Cerberus 3-1?" The passenger of the lead Humvee asked, his medical team disembarking from the rear hatch with stretchers.
"Yes, sir! Seven casualties. One friendly, six OPFOR." King replied, pointing to where Hilaire and the six other JSDF soldiers laid.
"Copy." the passenger said before relaying the situation back to command.
Multiple figures dash up towards them, one setting the stretcher down next to him as he gently hoisted the cameraman on. Hilaire could make out the OCP, or Operation Camouflage Pattern that was worn by members of the U.S. Army and Air Force… and the Space Force.
Glancing at the left patch on the Velcro pocket of the wearer's bicep, Hilaire recognized the iconic division patch belonging to the 82nd Airborne, the All American division. It was all he needed to know he was being bailed out of trouble by soldiers of the U.S. Army.
It was one thing to be rescued by the Navy since their docs were attached to Marine units. It was another for a Marine to be rescued by a soldier in the Army entirely.
This night just keeps getting better and better.
"Get his legs! Come on, we gotta move!" commanded the soldier who was assisting on moving the cameraman on the stretcher. One of the Marines in 3rd Squad complied, grabbing Hilaire's legs to help carry him onto the stretcher.
With tight grips and a heavy huff from both troops, they lifted the stretcher, carrying the alleged wounded Marine into the back of the medical Humvee. The leading medic crawled on top of the back hatch, keeping his death grip on the handles of the stretcher to not allow the wounded to fall on the ground. His stretcher was slid inside, situated in the corner as the medics piled out from the vehicle to retrieve the other wounded.
One by one, the dead personnel were loaded onto each of the medical vehicles until the last one was securely fastened. Hilaire's luck allowed him to have the JSDF sergeant riding with him, the Japanese man flashing him the "ok" signal.
With a thumbs up to the driver, the Humvee lurched forward, nearly tossing the passengers out of the hatch who weren't bracing themselves for the sudden movement. The Humvees did a one-eighty, heading back up the dirt trail where it proceeded to head back to base camp.
The medics, three of them in the back, were catching their breath, worn out by having to sprint into a warzone in full combat load to extract the dead and wounded who also had as much equipment on them.
Were this situation real, they would not have had any time to catch their breaths, having to proceed with aid procedures to stabilize the wounded before they were handed off to the professional medical staff where they would've taken over from there. But this was a war game, and from what Wilkes said, Hilaire was as good as dead anyway.
"Busy night?" The Marine asked, one of the medics giving him a small smile as he nodded.
"You don't even know half of it…" was his response, said in between fits of breath as he wiped the sweat ring underneath his kevlar.
"Sorry…" Hilaire said sheepishly, knowing he was just an added stress to the overworked medical staff.
The other medic waved a dismissive hand, keeping a small smile. "All in a day's work, dude. What we signed up for."
Hilaire simply smiled and nodded, not wanting to argue with the soldiers. He decided to sit up on his stretcher, looking at the JSDF sergeant who did the same.
"Having fun?" Hilaire asked, the sergeant turning around to answer the Marine.
"Beats being in garrison!" He answered, smiling nonchalantly.
"Isaac Hilaire. Lance Corporal." The Cameraman extended his hand, the JSDF Sergeant shaking with a firm grip.
"Takeo Kurata. Sergeant." He answered, his tone even with the Marine.
"You look rather young for a Sergeant, Kurata." Hilaire commented, the Japanese NCO slightly brushing his hand.
"Joined the Jietai at twenty!" Kurata replied, giving him the thumbs up. "Surprisingly, my section is made up of rather young people! Not the graying dinosaurs you're probably used to seeing by now!"
"Oh word?!" Hilaire shouted out, his mind registering the words after they left his mouth.
'Oh word?' Jesus, I need to stop hanging out with Artis.
Kurata didn't seem to notice nor cared, understanding his phrase perfectly. "Yeah! We're nicknamed the Baby Platoon because of it! Hey, I don't mind it, though! The JSDF was hurting for younger people, so I answered their call!"
"Nice!" Hilaire complimented, giving him a pat on the shoulders. "From one Serviceman to another, thanks for joining up!"
Kurata only raised his hands, waving them in a defensive motion as he nervously laughed. "It's no big deal! Really!"
Kurata was being modest, Hilaire knew, but he wasn't wrong. Joining the military, to him, probably wasn't a huge deal. But it was still the concept of someone willingly joining an organization to be a part of bigger than themselves that Hilaire liked.
"If you say so, Sergeant!" was Hilaire's only response, making the O-K symbol with his hand.
"You can just call me Kurata!" The JSDF NCO laughed out, once again brushing away Hilaire's formalities.
The ride back to the base, while bumpy, was still rather joyous. During the ride, Hilaire learned that Kurata was quite a nerd. So was one of the Army medics. The three processed to talk about what their favourite games were while the other soldiers discussed amongst themselves.
Apparently the medic was a fan of Call of Duty, particularly the Black Ops multiplayer game. Kurata was the RPGMMO kind, having said he's spent hours playing Final Fantasy: A Realm Reborn.
"So, Isaac-san," Kurata paused, pulling on the straps of his flak jacket, his magazine rounds making a loud clack. "What is your favourite game?"
"Shit…" Hilaire paused, mentally digging through his memory banks of the various games he downloaded on Steam, internally sorting through the ones he spent the most hours on. "If I were to guess what my favourite game of all time would be, it's a tie between Halo and Half-Life."
The otaku sergeant tilted his head, curiousness in his eyes. "Half-Life?"
Hilaire grinned, excitement flowing through him as he felt the urge to give Kurata a brief summary of a subject he knew like the back of his hand. "It was a PC game that was released back in 1998. It's sequel in 2004. Basically, it's about an incident which took place in a research facility that caused a Resonance Cascade."
"Resonance… Cascade?" Kurata repeated, albeit with a small amount of uncertainty, probably unfamiliar with either the words or the phrase.
"A Resonance Cascade is a generally disruptive and physically dangerous energetic event which tends to rip open holes in the dimensional fabric of reality." The geeky Marine explained robotically, almost as if he had an invisible dictionary in front of his face.
Hilaire might as well have spoken gibberish to him, Kurata's expression only deepening in confusion as his brain tried to process even half of what was said.
"…Huh?"
Jesus, Isaac. Stop being such a huge nerd and simplify shit.
The Marine cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "It's basically an interdimensional two-way portal. One each side can cross over into."
"Ah!" Kurata nodded, understanding the simple version. "Like a door to another reality!"
"Basically!" Hilaire confirmed, still slightly embarrassed from his earlier definition. "But back to Half-Life, the scientists accidentally opened a two-way gateway into an alien world, and the aliens start invading the facility and killing everyone." Hilaire explained, Kurata nodding his head as he understood that simple explanation.
"Like Area-51?"
"Kinda like that…" Hilaire laughed out. "The protagonist is forced to fight his way to the scientist on the other side of the facility who can help reverse the effects of the Resonance Cascade. Between fighting aliens, military personnel, and the CIA, it's one hell of a ride."
"Wait, military personnel?" Kurata paused. "Why would the player have to fight military personnel? Are they on the side of the aliens or something?"
Simplify it, Isaac. Don't draw it out.
"The facility was top secret and in bed with the Government. Rather than risk the public finding out they've funded the incident that brought aliens to our world, the Government opted to send in military assets to kill the aliens and the people who worked at the facility to ensure the public never finds out about it."
"Ouch…" Kurata whistled, staring at his colleagues who were engrossed in their own conversation. "I'm guessing since you said the game has a sequel, the whole cover-up and closing of the portal didn't work."
"Nope," Hilaire chuckled, adjusting the straps of his plate carrier to relieve the fatigue on his shoulders. "Half-Life 2 is in a post-apocalyptic setting where the aliens practically ravaged Earth's ecosystem. Surviving humans are forced into living in the cities under a new One World Government."
Kurata just nodded his head, sitting up in a modified criss cross as he smiled at the Marine.
"I didn't get your name, by the way!" Hilaire said to the gamer medic, his blue eyes widening in slight embarrassment.
"Wolfe! Specialist Richard Wolfe!" The Medic extended his hand, Hilaire eagerly shaking it.
"Nice to meet you, Richard! Sucks that you're at Fort Bragg and not stationed out here in Japan!"
Wolfe nodded, his eyes sympathizing with the Marine. "I was stationed in Korea a year ago. I think I know your struggles of finding friends who are local and not passing through."
Hilaire's eyes widened. "Oh word? How's Korea?"
Artis, you can go fuck yourself.
"Korea was a blast!" Wolfe answered, eyes wide with excitement. "Got to tour Seoul during my time! Also got to visit the DMZ!"
"You're going to have to tell me the grand tour! I've always wanted to go to Korea!" Hilaire said.
"Same as well!" Kurata said. "I've always wanted to visit it since I was a kid!"
Hilaire did a double take. "Wait, you want to go visit Korea?"
The JSDF Sergeant nodded his head. "Yeah! I think it's a beautiful country. Minus the whole commies hanging out in the north and all."
"Huh…" Was all Hilaire said, the Otaku sergeant raising his eyebrows.
"What? Something wrong with me wanting to go to Korea?"
Oh no. I'm not opening that bag.
The Marine wasn't well-versed in Japanese or Korean politics, but he wasn't ignorant that the two nations held some sort of animosity towards each other.
"Nothing wrong with you going. It's just that with my luck, the day I vacation in Korea would be the day the North grows some balls and finally invades."
Hilaire was only half joking, but he hoped that the Japanese sergeant would take the bait. It seemed to have worked, Kurata letting out a quick laugh.
"Well, I don't think my luck is that bad. I won't let fear deter me from doing what I want to do in life."
The Marine nodded his head, silently relieved of narrowly avoided a rather uncomfortable topic.
"Everyone loves living the Korean lifestyle until some soldier fucks up and everyone end up getting restricted." Wolfe deadpanned, causing both the Marine and JSDF soldier to snort.
"It beats living in Canada." Hilaire said absently, Kurata widening his eyes upon hearing that statement.
"You're the Canadian Marine?" Kurata stammered, looking at Hilaire as if he just walked on water.
The Canadian Marine? "Uhhh? Am I famous or something?"
"You're Canadian?" Wolfe asked, clearly puzzled at this recent knowledge.
Hilaire nodded his head to Wolfe's question, looking at Kurata as he proceeded to explain.
"One of the soldiers in my platoon wouldn't shut up about a Canadian who was fighting for the Marine Corps. She went on and on about how the Canadian must have thought America was better than Canada." Kurata explained, "I'm guessing that Canadian Marine is you?"
Wouldn't shut up? She? He couldn't possibly mean…
"She wouldn't happen to be Sergeant Kuribayashi by any chance, would she?" Hilaire asked in a tone somewhere between a groan and snicker.
"That's the one!"
Hilaire smacked the brim of his kevlar, sighing very loudly as the JSDF soldier laughed like a hyena, Wolfe still confused as to what was going on. "Dude, what's her deal? I'm just a damn cameraman! Not some high speed Raider who stormed a compound by himself!"
"She's…" Kurata trailed off, trying to find the right words. "She takes the military life far too seriously, as you can probably tell. Everyone who serves, whether Japanese or foreign, is deserving of her respect." He paused, looking up at the sky. "Well, almost everyone."
"Oh?" Hilaire cocked his head, eyebrows raised. "And how does one end up on her shit list?"
"Well, if she were to learn that you waste your life by playing video games, she would probably immediately detest your very existence." He laughed, Hilaire nodding his head. "It's gotten me and our Lieutenant on her bad side. While she can put up with me, she absolutely hates the fact she's under his command."
"You mean Itami?" Hilaire recalled meeting the officer that was a part of the JSDF welcoming party. He was a quiet and lanky man, but Hilaire did not expect the officer to be huge in Anime and video games.
"Yep!"
Hilaire repositioned his legs "What does she have against people who like watching Japanese cartoons?"
With a light shrug, Kurata answered, "Apparently she finds them childish, perverted, and degenerate."
"That's me. All three." Wolfe said, raising his hand, no hint of embarrassment or shame in his voice.
Slightly blushing, Hilaire rubbed his right elbow, "Well, I'm not saying I'm a saint, but she shouldn't lump everyone in those categories."
"Hey, I'm on your side here," Kurata said defensively. "I don't think I'm perverted, but that is what she assumes when she hears someone declaring they are one."
"Sorry. Didn't mean to seem like I was jumping on you with that." Hilaire said, embarrassed that he jumped the gun at Kurata before a small smirk made its way across his features. "But hey, if that's what it's going to take to finally get her to stop holding me up to a mantle, I'll gladly tell her."
Kuribayashi was cute. More than cute actually in Hilaire's personal opinion. Her excitement for the military would have been a warm welcome were it not the fact she was borderline obsessed with it.
"It's kind of ironic with her, don't you think?" Kurata asked, glancing at the other JSDF soldiers exchanging conversations with the two Army medics who accompanied the vehicle.
Hilaire raised his eyebrows, "What do you mean?"
"She dislikes me and the Lieutenant for being otakus, but she herself is one if you think about it."
"Go on." Hilaire pressed, leaning in to hear Kurata better.
"We're passionate about our favourite Anime and games. She's extremely passionate about the military. I can name you three characters from a show, she can name you three types of rifles in our inventory. I can tell you the creator of my show, she can tell you the inventor of our Type-74 tanks." Kurata explained, Hilaire nodding his head as he continued to listen.
"She's an otaku herself, but in a different context."
"Kurata," snickered the cameraman, letting out a few fits of laughter before recomposing his bearing. "She's, what we call in the Marine Corps, a Motard."
"Motard?"
"Motivationally Retarded." Hilaire explained. "It's basically people who love the military lifestyle so much, they cannot see themselves living a normal civilian life without alluding to it. They have to wear their dog tags outside of their shirts, walk around town with their issued backpacks with their patches on it, wear Oakley tactical sunglasses, and, my personal favourite, the desire for civilians to thank them for their service."
Kurata let out a chuckle, "That sounds like her, actually. What you've just described."
The three of them proceeded to laugh as the Humvee saw the lights of the main base just up the road. For them, they were thankful that their role of the night, minus Wolfe's, was over. But Hilaire was glad he was able to befriend two more people during his time in the exercise.
Even if it was at the expense of making fun of a cute female motard.
Sergeant Shino Kuribayashi pinched her nose, stifling a sneeze so as to not alert the enemy of her squad's presence. It was the fourth one she had to muffle within the past five minutes, a few of them being close calls from sneezing out loud and advertising her position.
I feel as if someone's talking about me behind my back again.
Kuribayashi would be lying if she said she wasn't slightly superstitious, but one thing she was certain of was she always had the sensation to go into sneezing fits whenever someone was talking about her. Half the time, her suspicions were confirmed whenever she stumbled upon a hushed conversation of her soldiers and civilians who were gossiping about how she was either beautiful, a hard charger, or her favourite, how much she was packing in her chest.
She had far more than the average Japanese woman, hell, women in general. But her gift tended to be a curse since it was all of what people primarily focused on, even earning some resentment from the women who were far less fortunate of being gifted.
I'm not just a pair of boobs! I have a personality, you know!
Besides being the target for perverts who couldn't take their eyes off, her gift made wearing her flak jacket a nightmare! Other than having to wear a medium-sized flak jacket instead of a small to compensate for room, her shoulders and back screamed at her whenever she was forced to wear it for long durations at a time. Hitting the gym to condition her body was only so effective so long as it wasn't for hours on end.
The CQB Expert leaned forward for a bit, allowing her to shift her slightly oversized flak vest to alleviate some of the weight.
"Kuribayashi-san," She heard her Sergeant First Class, Akira Tomita whisper right in front of her. "You're making too much noise."
The short soldier blushed heavily, thankful that the night sky hid much of her features. "Gominasai."
The next several minutes were spent in silence as the six-man squad of Self-Defense soldiers moved through the forest, taking care not to step on anything that might snap or push through any thickets or other foliage that could give away their position.
The squad halted when Tomita held up his hand, balled into a fist which was the universal sign of halt.
The Japanese soldiers halted as commanded, each one taking a knee as they pointed their weapons at the invisible enemies residing inside the forest. A sharp short hiss sounded behind her and Kuribayashi froze, holding her breath as she listened. The sound was repeated and she turned to see Leading Private Sasagawa, his Howa Type-98 rifle up and pointed to his right. Using two fingers on his free hand, he pointed first to his eyes and then into the forest where his rifle was aimed.
Enemy Spotted.
There was no time to plan, no time to react as the first report of gunfire erupted from inside the dense forest. The muzzle flashes nearly blinding her as she threw herself to the ground and scrambled for cover behind a large tree.
"Ambush!"
Kuribayashi saw movement among the trees a heartbeat before she heard Tomita shout the warning. For a brief instant, she cursed the Senior Sergeant's willingness to give their position away in the darkness, but then she realized that it really did not matter. Whoever they had stumbled upon already knew she and her companions were there and they were reacting accordingly. The light of the muzzle flashes briefly illuminating the area as Tomita directed the rest of the squad to find cover.
The squad moved quickly, low crawling to keep as much of a hidden profile as possible.
Peeking around the tree, she tried to see where their attackers might be. She did not hear any sounds of movement in the forest. Did that mean that their enemies had taken up positions and were waiting for the JSDF to reveal themselves?
Let's see about that.
Something rose up amid the bushes twenty or so yards ahead of her. She leveled her rifle at the silhouette, peering through the iron sights as she pulled the trigger twice, sending the lasers towards her newfound target.
She was rewarded by the loud shriek emitted from the wearer's ITESS vest going off, signaling the Sergeant that she had a direct hit!
"Wounded!" She heard someone cry out in English inside the woods. She couldn't place the accent, but it did not sound American. Kuribayashi made out shadows that darted to where she shot the soldier, no doubt trying to drag him out of the danger zone.
Azuma and Sasagawa laid down suppressing fire, the other soldiers in her squad following suit as they proceeded to pin down the Opfor Team.
"They're peeling back!"
It was Azuma, calling out as he pushed forward with his own attack. Though they were fighting on an elevated slope, their attack was having the effect they were hoping for. These OPFOR soldiers did not expect the JSDF to stand up in the face of the ambush to say nothing of actually mounting an active counterassault. She could see another silhouette of a soldier abandoning their position and turning to seek other cover deeper in the woods.
They were close enough that Kuribayashi could hear their hushed shouting, their figures darting towards the wail of the ITESS vest.
"Cover me!" She told Azuma and Sasagawa, darting from her cover and charging towards the enemy.
"What the hell is she doing?!" Sasagawa called out, firing his rifle towards the shrubs. Azuma didn't reply, probably unsure as to what the CQB sergeant had planned.
Kuribayashi ran, shouting a small battle cry as she leveled her rifle. She leaned forward, launching herself into a full sprint, the bayonet of her rifle facing forward. Despite running uphill, she was able to keep up her pace, disappearing in a flash inside the thickets.
"Kuribayashi!" she heard Tomita shout, however, she did not halt her sprint or showed any signs she was slowing down.
One way or another, she was going to get a bayoneted kill. She was the platoon's close quarters expert and she had the badge to show it. To participate in the exercise and not score one bayonet kill was just something she couldn't allow herself. The enemy was regrouping, confused, and had a casualty to take care of. Surely she had the upper hand in getting her wish, did she not?
Her foot caught on something in the treeline, tumbling over as her rifle nearly fell out of her hands. At that same instant, two bright flashes erupted on either side of her, a series of loud booms that caused her to momentarily go deaf, her ears ringing.
Tripmines?
Tripmines. She ran directly into tripmines.
The shrieking sounds of her ITESS vest were nearly drowned out by her anguish wails.
God damn it! How could she have been so foolish to think the enemy with a fixed in ambush position wouldn't rig the area with booby traps? They were feigning retreat and she fell for it. Hook, line, and stinker.
"Man down!" She heard Tomita cry from behind, the report of gunfire closing in the distance.
Lovely. Now her men were risking their lives to go retrieve her. And she was sure these enemy troops would take full advantage of it.
"Moving!" Azuma shouted, Sasagawa nodding his head as he proceeded to lay down covering fire.
"Move!" He said, Azuma proceeded to rush up to where Kuribayashi knelt down. Her face was still contorted in disbelief, still not getting over the fact her recklessness had cost her life, endangering her teammates who made an effort to retrieve her.
Azuma managed to go down in the prone position, meters away from where Kuribayashi laid. "I'm covering! Move!"
Sasagawa proceeded to sprint from his position as Azuma laid down covering fire, carrying on with the fire and maneuver tactic to help retrieve his fallen comrade.
Then the wail of his ITESS vest went off.
"Damn it, I'm hit!" Sasagawa cried out, stopping in place as he dejectedly sat down, pounding his fist in the dirt in frustration.
Azuma panicked, stuck between two wounded soldiers in his squad. Cursing, he reloaded his rifle, low crawling upwards when the mag was slid in. Tomita and the two other soldiers were peeling and maneuvering to recover their wounded, allowing the Private the flexibility of moving.
Azuma was just about to reach Kuribayashi when a burst of gunfire nearby erupted, his ITESS to shrieking in protest.
"Azuma's down!" She heard Furuta cry out, keeping up with the suppressive fire as Tomita darted to the left.
This was looking bad. Their squad was down to three men, while the other three were trying their might to assess the wounded and bail out of dodge. It was clear the OPFOR soldiers were taking advantage of the chaos, Kuribayashi hearing the footfalls of soldiers moving forward as they proceeded to outmaneuver them.
Soon, the soldiers had Tomita, Furuta, and their other junior enlisted, Private Tozu, boxed in as they managed to position themselves to put the remaining three members within the kill zone. With the burst of controlled fire, Tomita and the others low crawled to not present themselves as a massive target. However, it was too little, too late as their vests proceeded to go off one by one.
Silence reigned in the night, minus the shrieks of their vests. Despite the machine's annoying wailing, Kuribayashi heard her own heart beating in anticipation for the ass chewing she was going to receive.
"Area clear," a English voice said, the soldiers emerging from their positions. She could see their uniform camouflage and flag patch that pointed to them being soldiers of the Australian Defense Force.
The one with the shrieking vest walked up to Kuribayashi, giving her a cheeky smile.
"Well, hey there mate. You're the one who did me in, yeah?" He smiled, the night sky and his face paint doing well to conceal what she thought was a mustache on his upper lip.
Kuribayashi blushed in embarrassment rather than amusement. "Hai…"
"Good on ya for that, you've landed a kill shot. My ITESS registered it right in the heart."
"I'm… sorry?" She stammered, unsure exactly what to say.
The Australian just laughed, giving her a nudge with his elbow. "Just busting your chops!"
One by one, the Australians made their way back to the ambush point they've set up, along with some of the JSDF personnel who cast the sergeant annoyed glares. She couldn't blame them. They were all killed because of her.
"A fucking bayonet charge?" One of the Australians quietly laughed, extending his hand to help the embarrassed sergeant off her feet. "Really? You're going to use that old ass shit?"
Kuribayashi looked down. She had no excuse or rebuttal for her recklessness.
"Well that's one for the books!" Another one laughed
Kuribayashi remained silent, saved for the loud shrieking emitting from her ITESS vest. The ADF soldier fumbled in one of his pouches attached to his plate-carrier, fishing out the key to unlock the vest. With a small twist, her ITESS vest unlocked, silencing the wails.
"Dunno if you know this, Sergeant, but in a real life-or-death scenario, melee combat should only be used if it's a last resort." The Aussie lectured, smiling warmly and not malice. "Charging head first into an opponent who has a loaded weapon and the proper distance to respond to your advances is just asking to get your ass sent home in a box. If those tripwires didn't kill you, you would've been lit up by the entire section who had a complete terrain advantage."
She just nodded, too embarrassed beyond words to speak. She saw Tomita emerge from the shrubs, his expression that of utter annoyance.
"Sergeant Kuribayashi-san…" He said in a tone with just enough venom. "Come with me please. I need to have a little discussion of your choice of tactics and John Wayne shenanigans…"
The CQB expert gulped, bracing herself for the ass chewing that was about to follow.
Location: Sadera, Falmart.
The Capital City of the Empire of Sadera
Currently in Imperial Court of the Senate.
Date: Julian Day 193. Calendar year 572.
Time: 17:02 Hours.
Molt looked up the stairs that lead to the lobby of his Imperial Senate, his shoulders feeling heavy as he felt the mental weight of responsibility on his shoulders. These next few moments would decide if he could relieve the burden taken off him, or be crushed with one simple decision. It was the curse of being a ruler after all. A ruler that tried to see his empire through the darkness that overtaken it.
Escorted by his most loyal and hardened Imperial guards, he proceeded to climb up the stairs where his Senate awaited his presence. When the scouts officially confirmed the sighting of the portal on Alnus, he immediately dispatched his messengers to alert every senator who held a seat in his Imperial building that an emergency meeting would be held within the next evening. It was important that he discuss with them this extraordinary discovery. Their insightfulness and experience with governing and commanding legions would help him determine what the next course of action should be.
Once he reached the top step that led inside the building, the Emperor paused, his guards following suit. Blowing a warm breath of air, he turned around, the Senate granting him a view that overlooked much of the cityscape.
Celestica's Blessing, what should've been the most joyous time in the year, had hardly a soul out.
"Sire?" one his escorts, Cohort Kyrillos, voiced with concern. "Is everything alright?"
Molt just smiled, his eyes closed for a moment before opening them again. "It's funny, isn't it gentlemen?"
The guards glanced at each other, their eyebrows raised as they shrugged.
"What do you mean, my lord?" Kyrillos asked.
Molt did not divert his gaze from the city. "Celestica's blessings are upon us. Yet, I would not think so with the absence of its festivities."
Looking over to the lower region— the poorer ones— had hardly the bustling sense it once had years ago. His sharp eyesight caught naught but the usual traffic below. That would be to say almost none. Which was a shame considering that these poorer residents, despite their shortcomings, were often the ones who partied the hardest. To look at the districts absent of its vibrant nightlife and holiday spirit felt like a punch in the gut.
Bononia and Athenae, two of his most wealthy districts, weren't much better. Their houses and trees were decorated, yes, but they too were absent from large festivities and parties being hosted. Molt was no stranger that the nobles' often hosted private parties to celebrate these merry times, but the low illumination and lack of an outside presence implied even their spirits weren't in the holidays.
"A lot of the residents are too poor to afford the decorations, my lord." Kyrillos answered, the Emperor nodding his head in acknowledgement. "Too many were laid off because of the war. You mustn't fault yourself over something that was beyond your control."
"Many of the hubs in my district that used to host Celestica's festivities shut down to support the war effort against the Athubian Empire." Cohort Nihilus added, Molt once again nodding his head. "Same with the bakery shops. The owners simply don't have the funds to reopen them at this time."
"I see." Was all Molt said, once again blowing a warm breath against the cool air.
Kyrillos couldn't blame the Emperor with the amount of stress he was in. Sadera was but a mere shadow of itself. As Nihilus said, their recent war had cost them a stable economy. But Kryillos gave the Emperor credit, he did not ever seem to give up on trying to find a solution to uplift his empire.
Blowing a final breath of air, Molt composed himself as he opened the doors to his Senate.
Whatever conversations his senators were discussing halted, each of them diverting their attention to the authoritative figure who entered inside.
"His Majesty Emperor Augustus Sol Molt has entered the primase! All raise!" Cohort Nihilus commanded, standing at the position of attention.
The senators responded by raising straight up, right hands over their hearts as a customary gesture when in front of the Royal family. Molt nodded, his face warm despite an absent smile on his face. He walked down the lobby towards the throne, each stride composed and with a hint of elegance. Molt then sat down on the throne, glancing up at the various senators who made up the senate.
All of these senators were elected by the people of their provincial sectors to represent their voices to the Emperor. Along with acting as an earpiece to voice their citizen's concerns, they played a pivotal role in influencing his decisions in regards to the Empire as a whole.
"Gentlemen…" Molt said, his voice not betraying any anxiousness he might've had. "First, I want to bless you all of Celestica's graces, and may her love lead you to a bright summer."
A lot of the senators nodded their head, some whispering their sentiments to Molt in return. It was nice that some of them still retained their holiday spirits.
"It has come to my attention that the portal of Alnus, the same one from the old fables, has reappeared after its absence of a thousand years." Molt continued, the Senators visibly becoming animated upon hearing the main topic they were dying to hear about. "After facing years of internal strife, it seems as if Celestica has blessed our empire with the greatest gift. One that could uplift us from these trying times, and it lays just beyond the east resting upon the sacred hills we hold dear."
A few nods and whispered murmurs in agreement.
"I'm coming to you to discuss the input on what our next course of action should be, explain why that course of action is the best, discuss with each other, and allow me to get a bigger insight before I ultimately make the decision."
A moment passed without anyone saying anything. Suddenly, a voice shouted in the far left corner.
"My lord, I believe that we send an Expedition through the portal to claim what lands lay beyond as our own!"
The statement came from someone who was with the Pro-war faction on the left side, its members already riled up and ready for another conquest.
A Warhawk ready for another conquest? Colour me surprised...
"Our empire is nearly bankrupt! How much do you think it would cost to send an Expedition Corps through the portal?"
That statement was voiced by someone over at the Pro-Peace party side of the lobby.
Of course. It is the Doves' job to be cautious of big decisions that would leave a severe impact.
"Fool! As His Highness said, the appearance of the portal could not be more convenient as Celestica's Grace is upon us! If our Expeditions set up a garrison for the slaves and labourers to harvest resources before the portal closes, it just might be enough to bring our empire back on its feet!"
"You blasphemous fools don't realize what kind of lands lay on the other side of the portal!" shouted Count Poetovio, weary eyes cast upon his Pro-War opposites. "For all we know, we could anger an empire who rivals that of Athubia or worse! What shall we do then if we were to incur their wrath?"
"It would be directly sealing the Empire's fate!" Marquis Casel added, his voice laced with caution, "The soldiers in our Army, while devoutly loyal, are hanging on by a thread. Our campaign to annex the Warrior Rabbits in the north have brought out the primal savagery within them. Never before have I seen men act in such… barbarity. Surely a new war while we're still recovering from old wounds will be our Army's breaking point."
"Watch your tongue, Marquis Casel. Our glorious Prince himself led the expedition to annex the lands those barbarians rabbit-men called home! Are you saying the Prince himself is a barbaric savage?!" Marquis Calasta rebutted while glaring daggers at Casel.
"Grasping at straws, are we Calasta?" Casel mused, returning Calasta's glare with equal contempt. "I said our soldiers are at their limits, not the Prince!"
Calasta replied with a haughty laugh, crossing his arms defiantly. "And dare I say, what of our soldier's conduct is a disadvantage? If they're as primal as you say they are, surely they will be better fighters in case the likes of Athubia or whoever is on the other side!"
"Are you blind or just mad?" Neutral party member Baron Monterey shot up to his feet, looking at Calasta as if he grew a second head. "The conduct of our troops is borderline horrendous! Do you know how many reports I've sorted through this month alone of our soldiers breaking into homes terrorizing families and raping the women inside the household?" At this, some of the Warhawks gave off a dismissive wave, others crossing their arms, others looking on with some sympathy.
"A majority of these incidents take place inside the poorer districts where the majority of these crimes go on unreported because no one would believe them! And when it does get found out, the perpetrators usually receive a slap on the wrist if their commanders don't turn a blind eye completely!"
Warhawk Baron Clayton waved a dismissive hand, before scoffing, "I see no issue with the troops venting a little frustration by having their ways with a few village and slum whores! These are trying times after all. Anything they can do to get their morale up is fair game so long as no one is killed."
The look Monterey and the Doves gave Clayton was something mixed with horror and appall. A lot of them were struggling trying to process that Clayton not only dismissed the improper behavior of the Imperial troops, but actually welcomed it! It was enough for some of the Dove and Neutral party members to angrily rise for their seats in an attempt to throw fists with the delusional senator. It was with the aid of the Royal guards that the fight was pacified before it got out of hand.
"Listen to yourselves!" Dove representative Marquis Palesti scorned, still casting a distasteful glare at Clayton. "You're sounding exactly like the previous senate thirty years ago when they decided to declare war with Athubia! Look at the state of our Empire because of it!"
"Well, we can't just magically heal ourselves unless we secure the resources we've lost!" Warhawk Senator Mudra reasoned, meeting Palesti's gaze. "The annexation of the northern mountains has brought us time, but it will not be enough to sustain the empire in the long run! The continent of Helanus is off limits because of Athubia. The lands east hold nothing of great significant value. South is nothing but dry desert! The portal is the only hope we have if we're blessed that it decided to open in lands ripe with the resources we need!"
Palesti narrowed his eyes, clearly growing tired of going back and forth with the warmongers. "And if we're wrong, it would only serve to hasten the demise of our glorious empire."
"To do nothing would seal the empire's fate!" Senator Damius' voice roared across the building, eyes fiery with ambition. "Between the costly war with Athubia and the damage caused by annexing the Rabbit Warrior tribes in the north, we're in a financial pit that our grandchildren would be lucky to dig our empire out of!"
"A portal hasn't appeared for over a millennia. I've begun to think it was nothing more than a mere fable told by the residents of Alnus." Count Vorenius added, his gaze burning into the Dove party. "But alas, one appears and you cunts cower at the prospect of financially securing assets on the other side!"
Once again, the house erupted in a loud chorus of accusations and screaming matches, a sight that Molt would have found humourous were it not the fact his Empire was in dire need of nothing short of a miracle. And that miracle supposedly laid within the world of where the portal decided to open up at.
Molt closed his eyes, allowing himself to deeply think about the facts presented to him.
The Warhawk senators had their valid points. Sadera desperately needed resources. If going by the ancient fables told by the scholars of Alnus, the portals typically opened in mountainous regions that had gems and diamonds buried within the rocky terrain.
He heard one tale proclaim that it once opened in a much wooded area where the ores and pine wood was ripe for harvesting. Regardless of where this portal opened up, Molt was sure it would be rich with the resources his Empire needed to rebuild themselves back to their former glory.
The Dove senators also had a point as well, he would admit that much. Who's to say they wouldn't stumble upon an empire on the other side that rivals his bitter enemy's right across the ocean?
Taking resources an empire that had already laid claim to could indeed spark a war if he couldn't negotiate with their rulers and ease tensions. The people of Sadera, understandably, were tired of constantly fighting just to put a loaf of bread on the table.
Molt hated to admit it, but to deny the glaringly obvious facts would be utter madness. Sadera was falling apart. Their once unstoppable and feared empire was crumbling at its foundations, one small push powerful enough to send the walls tumbling down.
With the financial bankruptcy the Empire found itself in after fighting a prolonged war. Just looking at his own capital devoid of its holiday's festivities was the proof he needed that Sadera was in a decline.
In a slow yet graceful motion, Molt raised his hand, the shouting matches between the senators momentarily halting as they turned their attention towards him. He looked around at the various faces who made up the Imperial senate.
Fear.
Anger.
Uncertainly.
Conquest.
Each one, regardless of their party affiliation, was mixed with feelings of bearing the weight of the empire on their shoulders. Ultimately, Molt was the brunt of the full weight, the senators were there to more-or-less act as his advisors for any decision that could affect not only the Empire itself, but their own lives as they knew it.
"How long does the portal of Alnus stay open?" Molt's voice echoed across the lobby.
A few seconds passed, dreadful silence lingering in the air that was briefly interrupted by the breeze of the winter wind.
"My lord," Damius piped up. "The fables indicate that the portal will close within half a year. At least, what the books I've read about it have declared."
"I've heard a story of a portal that was kept opened indefinitely with the aid of a Gateway," Marcus added, "But I'm sure it was just an ancient fable with no weight to it."
Molt nodded, himself remembering growing up with tales of the Gate. But now was not the time to entertain fiction.
"Gentlemen…" Molt said solemnly, taking his time to look upon each of the senator's eyes across the lobby. "I understand that emotions are high. These are trying times, after all. I realize that. I'm not going to deny that Sadera is facing internal strife not seen since the Vassal-State Rebellion forty years ago."
A few nods of their heads, most simply transfixed to move as the Emperor spoke.
"All of you. You raise valid points of the potential damage we could cause should we send an Expedition through the portal. Sending our troops into the fray could very well yield disastrous results that would not only be remembered as a regional embarrassment… but the final nail in the coffin for our once glorious Empire."
A bunch of head nodding from the Dove party members, some whispered chants voicing their agreements with Molt's sentiments. It was expected, they were certainly the most vocal of approaching this developing situation with caution.
"However…" Molt paused. "Our fates will certainly be sealed should we not do anything."
The look of confidence and ease that was on the Dove faction moments ago left when those words left his mouth, the Warhawks now smiling and nodding their heads in their place. A chorus of whispers echoed across the chambers, senators looking uncertain and uneasy.
Before the house could erupt in chaos once again, Molt held up his hand to silence the whispered gossip. "Think about it, gentlemen. Athubia is watching us, even if they're on the other side of the Persuvian Ocean. They have spies and saboteurs lurking in our lands, ones that wouldn't doubt are on their way right now to report to their hierarchy that the portal has shown itself in Alnus."
Molt tightened his fist, his shoulders heavy from the mental burden bestowed upon him.
"They'll do whatever they can to undermine us. We might be experiencing a decline of our economy, but the war also broke theirs. They wouldn't risk us rebuilding our empire and finishing the war those beastmen started!"
Various nods from the Warhawk Senators, some muttering their agreements of the Emperor' statements. Even some from the Neutral party. The Doves were mostly silent, anticipating what his next words would be.
Molt continued, "Leaving that portal unguarded and unexplored is not an option for us. In the very least, we will send in a Survey and Scouting Corps!" Molt paused, the smiles of ambition and sparks of conquest radiating from the eyes of various Warhawks.
"Should I decide to send in an Expedition Corps, we will not be going in blind! I want the scouts to scrutinize the region the portal leads to the very soil! If we're to encounter a kingdom or empire, I want detailed reports of the inhabitants. Architecture, magic, their scrolls, maps, their economy, their hierarchy. Anything that we can use to help determine if they're worth the risk of sending in our main forces!"
Yells of triumphs and claps echoed across the lobby as various Warhawk and some neutral party members rose from their seats, applauding Molt's decision to send someone through the portal to see what resources may lay beyond.
Some of the Neutral members were more or less animated, smiling that precaution was considered when undertaking this huge opportunity.
Understandably, the Doves were rather reserved, still looking uncertain to what kind of potential blowback might happen as a result of crossing over to the other side. Molt couldn't blame them, however. Thirty years of constantly fighting and the drag that came with it would make any rational politician cautious.
"I want an Auxiliary Scout Corps over there in three days." Molt demanded, various senators taking their stand as they started to head to their house to begin interviewing the best men within their command. "Get it done."
With that, the Imperial building proceeded to be vacated, each party member embarking on their prospective task to ensure the survival of the Empire. It might be a day or two, but Molt was confident that the party members would be able to assemble the best suited to undertake this historic mission. As the last member left the lobby, Molt sat on his throne, the fear of the unknown eating away at the pits of his stomach.
This was it. This moment in history would be where he'd be known as the Emperor who rescued Sadera from an economic strife that left his citizens in turmoil. Having grown up inside these city walls and participating in campaigns that allowed him to gain valuable military experience, Molt was confident he was doing everything he could to avoid the mistakes his father made.
If for whatever reason they did stumble upon an empire on the other side, he could hopefully negotiate a trade. Offer knowledge in exchange for theirs. If this empire proved itself to be strong like Athubia, he would do every protective measure to avoid dragging his empire into another long drawn out war.
However, if this empire was pitifully weak, Molt would offer them a chance to bow down before Sadera's might. Especially if they happen to be built upon the resources that he needed. He could even offer aid in relocating their citizens to his empire and give them a better chance of life and opportunity.
However, should they refuse his generous offer, he would have no choice but to eliminate them.
AN
Happy Veterans Day, Everyone!
Hey there ladies and gents!
Once again, I want to thank TopHatGuy for helping write this and look for spelling errors as well as tactical insight!
There might still be a few grammatical errors here and there, but I wanted to get this chapter published since it's both the Marine Corps Birthday and Veterans Day.
As you've might've read the change in the Prologue, I'm still going to follow the same theme for those of you who can recall it. PTSD is a thing that runs rampant with war veterans in the combat zone. So I'm going to shine a light of it whenever it presents itself.
Also, Sadera finally makes its appearance in this chapter. Although I'm sure of you readers will notice several differences with it, namely the state of it as opposed to the vanilla.
While I was aware that Sadera as a whole was lacking in terms of background other than your generic discount Roman Empire, It wasn't until I've read "Gate: A Terrible Writing Advice" that I realized that Sadera would more than likely need to be revamped in order to avoid making them both arrogant as well as unapologetically incompetent.
It was a good concept, but I honestly find them underwhelming. There was a lot of wasted potential that could've changed that.
Now the question is, can I write them as an Empire that doesn't constantly hold the Idiot Ball?
"Uh... Isaac? Where's the Gate? You know, the one that's supposed to appear? Why a Portal?"
Good question!
Well, according to some sources I've read on the wiki and light novel, Saderan scouts were aware of Ginza and apparently kidnapped people before the actual conflict even began. It was even implied Noriko Mochizuki was kidnapped prior to the battle.
How accurate is this information? It's more than likely uncanon since the Manga and Anime took off in a different direction. But it allows me to plan for the new few chapters.
But don't worry. The Gate itself will make it's legendary appearance. I've alluded that one might've existed a long time ago.
Anyway, comment and review please.
Isaac out!