Chapter 1

First Contact

"A fog of crosscutting motives and narratives, a complexity that defies storybook simplicity: That is usually the way history happens."

-Rick Perlstein

Candēre Army Reserve Base, Madrigal, Fernalis - 0700 hours

Deep red eyes flashed open, darting around the room frantically, searching for threats and targets as their owner violently awoke from a restless sleep. The room was spinning, and Dinoven Selene pressed his back further into his bed as he tried to calm himself. Shadows darted about the corners of his vision, just barely too fast for his eyes to catch in the act. His heart raced and sweat began to form on his brow as he found it harder and harder to breathe. And just when it seemed it couldn't get much worse, he realized with horror‒

I can't fucking move.

He tried to lift an arm, but found it frozen in place. He tried to open his mouth to shout for help, but his jaw remained slack, and all he could manage was a whimper. Desperately he screamed in his mind, trying to make any part of his body move, but to no avail. Not even a twitch.

As his eyes continued to frantically scan around the room, they caught on something momentarily, before jumping right back and focusing as much as they could on the dark corner.

There were glowing, bright green eyes in the corner. Staring at him with pure malice and hatred. A dark figure permeated the air around them, black as night. They were all too familiar to the man, and it filled him with absolute terror, a fear that gripped his chest and threatened to tear his heart right out. The shadow seemed to sense this. It edged closer to his bed, each agonizing second feeling like years. The corners of Dinoven's eyes were filled with static, dancing around, obscuring his vision like a bad TV signal. The static seemed angry at him, too; it and the dark creature inching towards him made his stomach twist and his skin freeze. Part of him wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the worst, but he found himself unable to even do that.

With the creature now all but on top of him, and the static reaching a crescendo of its frantic dance across his vision, Dinoven frantically tried once more to move. As he did so, the shadow leaned in, and in a raspy, angry, foreboding voice, whispered, "I've found you."

And an arm shot up into the air.

Panting, with his right arm extended straight towards the ceiling, Dinoven realized he could move again. He quickly scrambled up and out of his bed, flipping the lights on and scanning every inch of the walls. Every shadow got a second glance and a once-over with a flashlight he scooped off the ground. He was only satisfied that the room was clear when a knock interrupted his search. The man looked down and realized that he was barely dressed, wearing only the boxers he slept in.

"Just a second!" he called as he rapidly thrust on a pair of shorts. As he pulled his other leg through, he hopped to the door, took a breath, and cracked it open, the chain lock near the top stopping it from going more than an inch. "Unless you outrank me, it can wait."

"Captain, there's been a… development."

The officer blinked. "... what kind of development?"

"The fantastical kind, sir."

A moment of silence, followed by a sigh.

"Gimme five minutes."

He hastily slipped on his clothes, a military green t-shirt, grassland camo pants, and boots, swept his hair back into something that passed for presentable, and headed out the door.

Outside, leaning against the opposite wall, loomed a man covered head to toe in black kit. His face was covered with a black balaclava and cheap plastic sunglasses. He straightened slightly as his senior officer stepped out. "You've… certainly looked better, Captain." Dinoven wasn't sure if he was making a quip about the burn scars that covered the left half of his face and most of his body, his mechanical left arm, or his state of dress, or all of the above.

"Terry, cut the shit and tell me what's going on. Don't be an ass for once."

"Ack!" Terry exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest in faux-despair. "You wound me, Dinoven, truly! After all we've been through together? This is how you treat me?"

"Lieutenant…"

"Fine, fine, be that way. I see how it is." Terry brushed his shoulder and gestured for Dinoven to walk with him. The pair made their way down a hallway and outside, where the Captain had to shield his eyes from the morning sun. Terry stretched. "Beautiful day for a little magic fuckery, eh?"

"Whatever you're keeping such a big secret better be important," Dinoven warned. They crossed a freshly paved road and waved at the armored truck that paused to let them through. "You woke me up early enough."

The Lieutenant rolled his head pointedly to look at the Captain. "Oh, please, we both know you were doing anything BUT sleeping. I know the sound of a room search. And your eyes were wide as hell." He slowed his walk to look Dinoven in the eyes. "Bad dreams?" He asked in a voice that dripped with amusement rather than concern.

Dinoven shook his head. "Something like that. Don't pretend like you care."

"My, my, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Terry quipped. "Don't worry, some work will get your mind off of things. And trust me, Cap', this one's a doozy."

Dinoven gritted his teeth as Terry spoke. It was as if his voice was sandpaper, grinding against the Captain's nerves.

It's only 7:30 and I'm already ready to go back to bed, he found himself thinking.

The pair worked their way across the base. It was large, and Dinoven never fully got used to the scale at which his unit operated. Despite only being a single company, they had an entire section for themselves. The platoon that Dinoven commanded, 1st platoon, nicknamed "Spearhead", was a SOF unit. It was tasked with the unusual, elite, or unconventional missions that regular Army units weren't equipped to handle. Supporting them were their 2nd and 3rd platoons, nicknamed "Ghost Division" and "Postmen" respectively.

Ghost Division served as Spearhead's armor support. With two tanks and assorted APCs and IFVs at their disposal, they made sure that the specialized infantry in Spearhead were covered and concealed, as well as punching through heavier enemies that the infantry couldn't handle.

The Postmen, meanwhile, was the primary combat support platoon for the 1st and 2nd platoons. They were equipped with short and mid-range artillery - mortars and howitzers, rockets and a SAM launcher. They rarely got into firefights, but they most certainly intervened in the ones that their sister platoons engaged in. Deadly fire support from their guns were game changers when the combat teams found themselves in over their heads… which was fairly often.

And of course, 1st Platoon, Spearhead, was the mainline infantry. In peacetime, they were highly trained soldiers, hand-picked by commanders for specialized operations. They came from all branches, from Army to Air Force to even the Coast Patrol. They were given special freedoms in scheduling so long as it was overseen by the commanding officer. The unit operated in a sort of hybrid command structure - 1st Platoon was commanded solely by Dinoven, while 2nd and 3rd Platoons had their own captains, who all coordinated their efforts. This was to ensure that each platoon could focus solely on their given task. 2nd Platoon was commanded by Captain Keller Winters, while 3rd Platoon was headed up by Captain Marco Ibanez. Overseeing them all was Colonel Barkley Riggs, a hulking and highly decorated man who was more often out on the field with a gun than in the rear with maps.

Some of the troops in Spearhead - such as Captain Selene - were equipped with suits of power armor unique to each user. They mostly consisted of a kev-lite1 bodysuit, with light metal armor plating over the chest, back, arms and front of the legs. Most were also equipped with full-coverage helmets with augmented-reality visors. These were mostly limited to night- and thermal-vision, though some had added utilities based on the user's proficiencies. Each armor suit was given a codename, which often became the user's callsign. It was just as much to make sure every soldier was where they were supposed to be as ensuring none of the expensive and sophisticated pieces of hardware were unaccounted for.

Terry led the Captain to the center of the base, where a large building loomed over most of the fortifications around it. Atop its simple roof sat a large communications array, a SAM launcher, and several soldiers milling about. As Terry showed the sentry his ID, he called over his shoulder, "C'mon, Cap', don't want to miss the show, do you?"

Dinoven shook his head as he fumbled his own ID out for the sentry. "Why not just tell me? What's the point in making me wait?"

"Dramatic timing! Show, don't tell, Cap'! I am nothing if not an entertainer!" Terry said, sweeping his arms out dramatically. "And besides, I doubt words can properly describe it."

"Fine," the Captain sighed, "But if this is just some sort of joke, I'm giving you two weeks KP."

"Promises, promises. Cool your head, you're about to see." Terry rounded a corner, and entered the main communication hub. Lining every wall was a computer terminal with someone at each, wearing a headset and jotting down notes and coordinates and whatever else they needed on both paper and screen. In the center of the room a large table sat with short range radios, laptops, maps, and several coffee mugs. The smells of the night shift still lingered, and Dinoven had to keep himself from making a face. Why the night crew always left a funk was beyond him. Dinoven looked to the far end of the table and quickly found who he was looking for. It was hard to miss him.

"Colonel Riggs, sir!" Dinoven said sharply as he snapped to attention and gave a salute. The Colonel looked up from his work and returned the salute, drawing himself up to his full stature. He towered over everyone in the room at 7'1, with muscles to match. An oversized handgun rested in a similarly large holster on his right hip, and even in his specially-tailored uniform, he looked as if he was a size too big for it. Salt-and-pepper marine-cut hair betrayed an age that he certainly otherwise didn't appear, and a white goatee helped make his permanent scowl look ever so slightly less scary.

"At ease, Cap'n," The Colonel said, his deep gravelly voice seemingly permanently edged with contempt, as if he felt everyone were beneath him. "How quick c'n yer unit be ready t' deploy?"

Dinoven went to the at ease position, answering promptly. "20 minutes or less, sir. What's the situation?"

Riggs turned the screen of a laptop around to face Dinoven. On it was a still frame of a large structure in the middle of what was normally a busy city street. Armed police had cordoned it off from dozens of curious spectators. "This was taken from a traffic camera about 10 minutes ago. Jus' appeared outta nowhere. Nothin' pr'ceded it, so I'm takin' yer platoon out there to check it out."

"Just another day at the office, eh?" Terry chimed in, leaning against a wall nonchalantly.

"Somethin' like that. I want t' be movin' out in 15. Tell th' other PL's. Clear?"

Dinoven internally cringed - his armor was NOT easy to put on fast, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain to a superior about that, especially not The Colonel. "Yes, sir!"

"Dismissed!"

Dinoven saluted again, though he noticed that Terry didn't. He simply stretched and leisurely strolled his way out. Dinoven followed the Lieutenant, partially annoyed at his lack of respect for the rank, and partially impressed he had the guts to disrespect The Colonel like that. The pair sped their way across the road and back to the main barracks. Inside, only a handful of people were awake - the night sentry, who was just getting off his shift and looked at the two officers inquisitively. Dinoven gave the man a nod as the two officers rushed past him. Terry went right, towards the bunks of 2nd and 3rd Platoons, while Dinoven cut left, to his platoon. He took a breath as his hand rested on the doorknob, steeling himself into "work mode".

"Okay, everyone up! Get up!" Dinoven shouted as he wrenched open the door. "We got a job this morning! Get up!" The soldiers in the room groaned as they hopped out of their bunks sleepily, putting on clothes and hastily making their bunks presentable. "Hurry, guys! This one's straight from The Colonel! We're rolling in 15, I'll brief on the way!"

Leaving his men to sort themselves out, Dinoven then turned and made for the armory. He flashed his ID to the security guard, and then, bypassing the regular weapons and body armor, went to a further locked door. After a retinal scan, he was allowed access. In this room was the power armor for the unit. Half a dozen for his platoon alone. They were the best, according to some, and the best got the best toys.

Dinoven passed by a suit that was tinted gray with light armor, then another meant for a pilot, and then an absolutely massive suit of armor meant for Colonel Riggs, before finally reaching his own. It featured a kevlite bodysuit worn over his clothes, and metal armor plates covering most of his torso, his thighs, arms, and shins, and a full-coverage helmet. It was tinted a very dark gray, with dark blue highlights - his favorite color. His suit's codename was Carnifex. He didn't enjoy the prospect of having to put all the pieces on - despite it being rather light and easy to move in. It wasn't all the pieces that he really hated, though. It was more what it meant he had to go do when he had to wear it.

As he fought and wrestled his way through his kevlite bodysuit and began sliding on the metal plates, The Colonel strutted in. He nodded to the captain as he stepped up to his own armor. Riggs' armor was far easier to get in and out of - simply step in and it closed around him, sealing him in a nigh-impenetrable shield. Riggs rolled his neck in his helmet, rolled his shoulders, and then stepped to the far end of the room, donning a backpack almost as big as Dinoven. Finally, he heaved his weapon of choice, a belt-fed rotary cannon, modified for handheld use. Once finished, he looked down at Dinoven.

"Y' done yet, son?" he asked simply.

Dinoven fought to keep from rolling his eyes as he hoisted his chestplate over his head. "Do you really think we'll need all that for this, sir?" he asked with as much respect as he could muster. Riggs shrugged, a no doubt daunting task for anyone but him in that kind of hardware.

"D'nno, but 't never hurts t' make a show 'f force ev'ry now 'n then," he said. "Makes fer good press. Meet me outside, Cap'n." And the behemoth lumbered away, shaking the entire room with each metallic step.

Before long, Dinoven was hopping into a truck with the rest of his unit. 1st Platoon consisted of 50 soldiers ‒ smaller than many other platoons, but perfectly sized for the type of missions they typically undertook. They spread out among 5 vehicles, with their sister platoons taking a few larger troop transport trucks. Dinoven was in the lead vehicle, a humvee, American-made and Fernalian taxpayer bought. Riggs took a separate vehicle, mostly due to the simple fact that he wouldn't fit in most. A short flatbed with a special harness for Riggs' massive form was the way he traveled. It allowed him to stay standing ‒ so he could fight on the move, he said. Dinoven secretly had an idea it was because The Colonel's massive armor crushed his balls and he didn't want to seem weak in front of his troops.

15 minutes was certainly a crunch, but nowhere close to not enough time for Dinoven's men to get ready to go. They had done far more with far less time. Riggs' truck rolled slowly up the convoy.

"Boys!" he began, already apparently uncaring that nearly a third of Spearhead Platoon was women. "This ain't nuthin' but a glorified p'rade! Keep yer chins up 'n' your guns shiny! We'll be back 'fore lunch! Remember t' smile fer th' cameras!" With that, Riggs' driver accelerated, leading the convoy into town. Dinoven's truck followed, and the rest of the vehicles filed in behind them.

The mood was light, the soldiers bantering with each other, or complaining to their superiors, who in turn called up to Dinoven and relayed each complaint in excruciating detail, just to mess with him. Despite his mood, the Captain took it in stride and fired back vague threats of demotion, KP time, or violence. It was a 30 minute drive from the base into Madrigal. The roads were lined with small branching roads into middle-class neighborhoods. Kids out playing waved at the passing trucks, and some of the soldiers waved back or threw them treats.

About halfway through their trip, Dinoven tuned his truck's radio to the police frequency. "Shut up a second, guys! Let's see what we're getting into." The truck became… less loud, which was the best he could hope for. At first Dinoven kept it in his peripherals. He still chatted with his troops, but was only half paying attention.

"Hey, Cap'," someone behind Dinoven started. He turned around to listen, locking eyes with his medic, Sierra. "What do you think we're getting into?"

"I know The Colonel is hard to listen to for more than 8 seconds, but surely you heard his briefing at least?"

"No, I did, but… what do you think this really is? I mean, a big fuckin' gate appears outta nowhere in the middle of a busy intersection… sounds pretty fishy, right?"

"Well, if you're so smart, what do you think we're getting into?"

Sierra thought for a moment, tapping his chin. "Maybe some weird kinda protest? Been a lot of those lately."

"Well, if it is, we definitely need to be smiling for those cameras," Dinoven said, and his troops chuckled.

Just then, the radio chatter, which up to that point had been dull and uninteresting, suddenly caught the Captain's attention.

"Hey, we got someone behind the tape."

"Someone get that idiot away from the damn scene!"

"I got him, calm down."

Dinoven turned up the volume and turned back around, listening in to the situation as best he could.

"Reggie- hey, hey, watch that guy's staff, watch the-"

Staff? Did he mean a literal stick, or a group of people?

"Shit, he just attacked Reggie."

"Dispatch, start us more units, we don't have enough right now-"

"What the hell is he doing?"

The radio stopped for a moment, as he assumed the officers were trying to subdue whoever they were talking about. Dinoven hoped whoever Reggie was wasn't too hurt, when the radio practically burst into activity again.

"ALL UNITS, BE ADVISED, WE ARE SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!"

The truck suddenly became much quieter.

"Punch it!" Dinoven commanded the driver, and the truck rapidly picked up speed. Riggs had apparently been listening to the police comms as well, because his truck also lurched forward in a burst of speed. The houses around them suddenly became blurs.

"There's more coming out of the building!"

"SOMEONE GET THIS CROWD OUT OF HERE!"

"Officer down! Officer down!"

Shit.

Dinoven slipped his helmet over his head and checked his rifle. The rest in the truck followed suit, now preparing to drive right into a fight.

"What the hell am I looking at?"

"Holy crap, how's he-"

"What's he doing? Someone sto- SHIT, GET DOWN! GET DO-"

And then the radio went silent.

The rowdy interior of the truck stilled for a moment, taking in what had just happened. Dinoven tuned the radio to other police frequencies, but none of them were related to what had just happened. It was as if what they had heard was an anomaly that only existed over that radio in that truck. Agonized seconds, longer than lifetimes, passed by, as everyone looked to the Captain. He thought for a moment. Analyzed what he had just heard. Officers confronted a man behind a police line. They were attacked. Shots were fired. At least one officer down. He began to come up with a plan of action ‒ or, he tried to. Without knowing what exactly had happened after the radio died, it was hard to concoct a solid plan of action. And knowing The Colonel, it would probably devolve into "Shoot first, ask questions later," as he tended to do.

Dinoven's train of thought was interrupted by his driver suddenly lurching the vehicle to the side of the road.

"FUCK!" the driver shouted, as he continued to weave the truck around people and speeding cars ‒ scores of civilians fleeing from… something. Presumably whatever had happened to those police officers wasn't content with just a couple casualties. Riggs' truck had stopped altogether, The Colonel busy organizing and/or berating a couple of police officers trying in vain to keep the crowd off the street. The road, Dinoven realized, was completely impassable. The driver laid on the horn, and Sierra poked his head out the window to try and urge people out of the convoy's way. Nothing seemed to be working. Dinoven opened his own window, and only then did he notice the magnitude of the crowds. They were only now entering downtown, and already there had to be several hundreds of people trying to escape down this one road. It was like a pack of sardines…

Fish in a barrel, he thought grimly.

As if on queue, a loud screeching creature descended upon the convoy. With no time to react, the Captain watched in horror as a huge reptile dropped down onto the fleeing crowd a few hundred yards ahead, crushing several civilians. Several of the soldiers in the truck swore as it swiped massive claws at nearby victims, cleaving them apart and leaving them to bleed. It was apparently out of pure malice ‒ the monster made no attempt to eat any of its kills. Then, with a flap of its great wings, it ascended back into the sky. Several shots rang out from somewhere in the convoy.

"Cap'... was that a fucking dragon?"

Dinoven shook his head. "We can worry about that later. Right now we're on the clock. I want everyone to dismount except drivers and gunners. We're gonna need this armor but we can't pass these roads. We'll clear a path on foot. Who's gonna cover in the .50?"

Sierra raised his hand. "I'll cover."

"I need you on foot, we've got hostiles in the area and casualties already," Dinoven said. Sierra nodded, clearly unhappy.

"I'll take the gun," another chimed in.

"Good. Seth will cover. As soon as it's clear, get this vehicle going. Everyone else, on me!" With that, Dinoven thrust his door open and stepped out of the humvee, his rifle raised, the six2 other soldiers in the truck following him. It was slow going, but they raced their way towards where the dragon had crashed into the crowd. A couple of paramedics, sans ambulance, were already there, but they didn't look particularly focused. Sierra rushed to assist them with a man whose stomach was deeply gashed. He had lost a lot of blood.

"Cap' this guy needs a hospital badly," Sierra said, not looking up from his work. "Let's put him in the truck, these guys can work better there."

"Do it. Get back here fast."

"But, Cap', these guys need help-"

"Dammit, Sierra, they've got this. I need you with me."

Sierra huffed and didn't reply, but Dinoven knew he would come back as ordered. As hot-headed as he was, he wasn't prone to insubordination. Before long, the medic had returned, clearly not happy. Dinoven began to lead the soldiers towards the large intersection ahead of them, weaving through throngs of people and almost getting run over by cars several times. He was beginning to lose his own patience. His brooding didn't have much of a chance to simmer, however, as what those people were fleeing from quickly made itself known.

Following hot on the heels of the stragglers came several brutish pig-like beasts. They carried clubs smeared with blood and gods know what else. They snarled, rings in their noses clinking against their razor sharp tusks. With a sickening, gleeful sound halfway between a pig's squeal and a bobcat's scream, they leapt upon the stragglers, beating them savagely into bloody pulps. Dinoven suddenly found his anger entirely redirected towards these creatures as he turned almost robotically with his rifle raised. He fired three shots. One of the pig-men fell dead. Beside him, Sierra fired thrice more. Another crumpled. The remaining creatures quickly followed, the squad cutting them down easily. Without pausing, they rushed to check the victims of the pig-men's attacks, but Sierra shook his head before even checking them.

"They've had it, sir. Never stood a chance."

Dinoven swore to himself. A million thoughts flooded his head, things he could have done differently, ways he could have saved them. But he pushed them aside. Guilt could come later. They had confirmed an unknown hostile force in the city and needed to get them locked down and destroyed.

"Colonel," Dinoven called into his radio. "I assume you saw that?"

"Sure did, son," The Colonel said grimly. His truck was just now beginning to push through the thinning crowd. As little as he cared about the destruction he wrought during combat, collateral casualties weren't something he was fond of. "All trucks, form up in th' intersection. We're goin' t' set up a CP there."

Before anyone could respond, though, the next wave came around the corner. Armored warhorses galloped around the bend, their riders clad in plate and leather armor, lances lowered. They had probably expected to see fleeing civilians. Instead, they found a group of very upset soldiers. Without needing to wait for the order, every soldier who had a shot took it. Bullets ripped into the riders and their steeds, sending them tumbling down on top of each other. Those not killed by hot lead were trampled by their friends as they tried to charge the firing line. Dinoven swapped magazines, but by the time he had racked a round the attack was thoroughly dealt with.

"What the fuck is going on?" Someone asked ‒ Dinoven couldn't tell who. He was busy with sorting a million thoughts out at once. One fact stood out the most, though ‒

That Gate was the source, and he needed to get there, ASAP.

1. Kevlite - a lighter variant of kevlar allowing for more freedom of movement and less burden on the wearer without sacrificing much protection, based on kevlar sourced from earth.

2. Some Humvees purchased from earth were modified heavily to allow for greater troop transport. these modifications were rarely sanctioned.

Hi! I'm Grimblo. This is my first foray into anything published, even if it is a fanfic. I figured, hey, I love Gate, lemme throw my goobers in there. But I wanted to see what would happen to the setting if magic wasn't... well, useless, like it is in the show. I wanted things to be a touch more evenly matched. We'll see how that goes.