Halsey loomed over the holo-table as Tyuule and Richard walked in. The woman gazed upon enemy equipment and the present forces currently battling it out near Alnus. For the past few days, the Empire had deployed an army of around three hundred thousand to retake the Hill from the invading Peacekeeper force. Although many she saw below weren't simply Imperial troops. It looked like the bastards had brought their vassals in after their second, sixty-thousand strong army was wiped.
The UN force had set up a perimeter, various tents and gun emplacements, not to mention bringing in self-propelled howitzers and another company's worth of US and SDF tanks. Infantry milled about the place, while gunners manned SAWs and .50 caliber Machine Guns mounted in the nests. Mortarmen had also set up in several pits around the place, while the rest of the UN's joint engineer corps set up a layered defense:Barbed wire, mines, traps and even a few warning signs in the local language and script.
She sighed, shutting off the system, before turning to the Lieutenant and Queen and stating, "Our newfound friends are engaging in a defensive battle against the Imperials."
"Yeah, we heard," Richard noted, then looked over the command table himself and hummed. He said, "Abrams Main Battle Tanks, MTRVs and other US Marine Corps standard equipment, not to mention M4s and other such items. The others are using Type-56 Assault Rifles, old school gear and other items like that. Japanese are probably the weirdest of the lot... Vietnam-era gear."
"You seem familiar with much of the equipment on display," Tyuule remarked.
"I am," He nodded, "Half this equipment was predecessor to the UNSC groundpounder kit you see us running around with. The other half was the mainstay of these armies, but was never really put into place as working equipment that we could really ship in combat. We ditched multi-crew tanks like the Abrams for multiple reasons, including the ease of having single or two-man crews more easily trainable and cheaper than a four or five-man team, each with a specialized role. Not to mention Scorpions are easier to transport..."
"Admittedly, the Scorpion's main gun is the only lackluster item when it comes to comparing them with our friends over here," Halsey stated, bringing up the schematics of the 90mm cannon in the auto-turret of the Scorpion, stating, "Ninety millimeters were good for dealing with light armored vehicles. The 120mm on the Abrams, meanwhile, is meant to deal with tanks of its level."
"Namely the stuff we see deployed by the Chinese and Russians now," The man stated as Tyuule approached and gave a once-over to the American Army's mainstay armored workhorse. She hummed, while Richard added, "The Japanese came with their older kit. Howa Type-64 Battle Rifles and Type-89 ARs with no optics, body armor and camo patterns from way back in the mid-to-late days of the Nineteen-Sixties... And the tanks."
"I presume they didn't want to risk their better equipment," Tyuule noted, looking over the items, "Still. It's fairly interesting to look upon the predecessors to the UNSC."
"On that, we can agree," Halsey nodded, bringing up the footage of the latest battle. Fifty calibers, tanks and howitzers pretty much slaughtered the entire first wave of enemy troops. She hummed, then stated, "Color me impressed, however, that the Imperials have not attempted anything when it comes to us. You'd think that their prince, Zorzal, would come to regain some form of honor in defeating us..."
"I think they didn't expect to get their shit rocked by two firearm-toting peoples, Doc," The Lieutenant smirked, arranging his BDU, "Anyway, doc... You manage to talk to the UN Army over here to see if they wanna show up for a talk?"
"They said they'd welcome the talk once their own Forward Operations Base is set up," Halsey remarked, then pulled up a few items from her req form and said, "And when they are ready, I intend to show full hospitality to our seeming past counterparts, with hope I get to study the effects of the Gate once we've accomplished initial discussions with them."
"Sounds good to me, ma'am," Richard nodded, "Just let us know when you need an escort."
"Will do," Halsey remarked, then hummed and looked to Tyuule, "How goes the training of your people, Your Highness?"
"Currently?" Tyuule smiled proudly, "We have a full Battalion of Warrior Bunnies ready for service. The UNSC ambassadors in our country told us to expect the proceedings for our Kingdom's joining to the UEG to be quick. I have to go back soon to complete another round of talks that refers to the economic development and the infrastructure. After that? Well, there's a round of talks with the Dragon-Born regarding increased trading..."
"Send my regards to lady Jeanne and her Knights when you meet the Dragon-Born. 'Till then, I will be in contact with one general Hazama, commander of the UN Special Region Task Force," Halsey remarked, "To set up a meeting spot. Lieutenant, I'd like you to take Third Platoon and scout ahead after you drop off Her Highness. Go through Imperial territory, but avoid combat. I feel like they've given up any pretense of safety after attacking our historical counterparts, but that doesn't mean we should slaughter any that come into our sights. Your main objective is finding neutral ground where we can meet general Hazama and his forces for a chat. He may send his own forward."
"Understood, ma'am," The Lieutenant nodded. He looked to Tyuule, who nodded. Both of them bid a quick goodbye to the doctor and walked out of the command area. The man then said to Tyuule, "Looks like Doc's got her hands full."
"I'm fairly certain we all do," Tyuule remarked, smiling, "She did just give you an order to go meet your counterparts out there."
"Let's hope this is a first contact with flowers instead of bullets," He stated rather poetically, causing her smile to grow.
"I'm certain it'll go well," She replied, then hummed and said, "Although I'd keep an eye open. Jeanne told me that there's rumors of a Fire Dragon having awoken early from its hibernation. Maybe request air escort from a pair of drones or even a pair of Broadsword fighters, for your own safety and theirs."
"Will do," He nodded, "Appreciate the concern, though."
"Of course," She smiled again, her cheeks a hint redder. The Lieutenant rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. The two then gazed up at the base's radar tower, watching as the antenna spun, tracking any and all targets in the airspace. The Broadswords returned from their Air Patrol, gently moving in to land at the base's airfield. Speaking of the UNSC's Air-Superiority fighters...
"Right..." The Lieutenant sighed, then said to Tyuule, "Let's get you home, your highness. I and the gang will be deploying."
She nodded.
Alnus Hill
The UN Force continued its deployment as another enemy army gathered. They'd already killed two massive waves of enemy units. Command wanted not to have to waste more ammo, for starters, nor did they want to actually kill what seemed to be just a random bunch of peoples gathered by the Empire. If Torres were to hazard a guess, judging from their equipment, they weren't even Imperial army regulars, rather being probable vassals.
Clutching his M4A1 rifle close, the man gazed upon the field of corpses while his Marines checked the dead and gathered the wounded. He felt a hand clap onto his back, right on the back SAPI plate of his armor, then turned to see Itami. The man gave a nod to him, then went to his left side and watched as the soldiers and Corpsmen of the Marines triaged the wounded from the dying.
"Should've never come after us," Murmured Torres with the slightest hint of sadness in his voice as he was looking over the wide field. He pointed at the twisted corpse of a winged lizard that had armor and a saddle, then said disbelievingly, "Look at this shit, man. They have fucking dragons..." before looking to an awestruck Itami. The Marine cleared his throat, to which the Japanese man shrugged and chuckled awkwardly. Itami sighed as Torres pulled a cigarette out from his breast pocket, slid it between his lips and said, "Fuck me... First contact with an alien world and..."
"And we've also got an unknown military force's drones surveying us," Itami murmured, then tilted his head toward the shimmering frame of one of the UCAVs. Torres scoped it in with his ACOG, then huffed and lowered his weapon. Itami added, "Spotters say those drones are carrying ATGMs, but are keeping their distance for now. Just surveillance..."
"If these assholes are here, why haven't they already rolled over the Empire?" Torres murmured his inane rhetorical question as he lit the cigarette, "They waiting for something in particular...?"
"Guess we'll know when we get to ask them," Itami shrugged, "Any word on what we're supposed to do with the next wave?"
"Don't know, man... Did they even find Imperial army soldier bodies in this fuckin' mess?" Torres sighed, dragging deep from his cigarette. Itami shook his head and the two continued to watch as their own gathered the bodies of the dead. Some of them were missing limbs, or entire chunks of of the corpse had been torn off by artillery and tank shells. Many more had bullet holes.
The beasts and demi-human slave soldiers were all piled high and burned. The corpses of the human soldiers were treated with some modicum of respect instead of just being discarded en-masse in the same fires as whatever those things were. A CAT excavator was digging a mass grave for them, further away from Alnus Hill itself, near one of the lowland areas.
The two heard the clap of boots against the hardened dirt and turned. Both of them snapped crisp salutes once they saw the lithe form of the company commander of Misfit, their Abrams tank company, approaching. He saluted and nodded to them to go 'at ease', before stating, "Sorry to bother you, gentlemen, but General Hazama requested the formation of Recon Platoons after getting off the phone with Doctor Halsey. They want you to find a suitable enough place for discussion between us and them so that the reps the UN will probably send in the coming weeks may meet her and her people."
"So, we're going on a picnic spot hunt," Torres remarked, puffing from his cig and blowing the smoke to the side.
"Pretty much," Cole replied. He showed them to wait a moment, hefted his radio to his ear and listened in. Sighing and letting the report end, he looked to Torres and said, "They're going to need your squad at the forefront. Something about chatting up the folks we're fighting... A prisoner we caught writhing on the floor squawked about this being a combined arms force that was supposed to be led by the Empire."
"Lemme guess, sir," Torres murmured, "Bastards left them to die?"
"Looks like it," The man rubbed his eyes, "Take your squad, head for their CP Tent. One of'em tries anything, you've got green light to waste them. We've got tanks slated to escort you, so the enemy's numbers shouldn't be an issue... Lieutenant Itami, you are to report to General Hazama's tent for your assignment and then brief Torres. Once we've all accomplished local objectives, main line of work will be finding that place where we can have a chat with the other military and some of the locals. Y'know, get the lay of the land and figuring our shit out."
"Yessir," The two saluted. With that, Cole departed back toward the Abrams company, while the Chinese and the Russians seemed to be eyeballing them.
Itami hummed, then said, "Well, stay safe, Henry."
"You too, Youji," The man nodded and the two departed for opposite ends of the camp, with Torres marching straight for the motorpool to grab an AAV. He stopped, then whistled a six-note tune and, as if out of the woodwork, a dozen Marines up and appeared out of the thicket, each with their kit donned, rifles in hand and grins on their faces. First letting out a sigh, then a chuckle, he looked to his team and said, "You bastards've been waiting for me to call you, huh?"
"Hoorah," The dozen soldiers replied, Taylor among them with his M240 and a grin on his face.
Torres spoke, "We've got a job to do, folks. Command wants us and a couple of tanks to roll up, tour-de-force, to the enemy's CP Tent. Get them to back the fuck off and help'em figure out the Empire left'em for dead," and he checked his ammo pouches. He still had six full magazines, plus one in the rifle. Gazing upon his men, he said, "ROE is tight on this one. We don't engage unless the assholes fire, stab or slash first. Otherwise, if they up and try to kill us, it's weapons free."
"Sounds good to us, sir," A Private First Class spoke, a grin on his face as he hefted his M16A4 to his chest. Dark-skinned with black eyes and a strong jawline, PFC Stephens had come to be known as the squad's own personal 'Screwby'. He was pretty much the squad's rawest recruit. He wasn't a bad kid, he was just really green by Marine standards. Still, Torres was glad to have him around for the bulk alone. Son of a bitch was tall and broad, built like a brick shithouse and probably should've been the one hauling the M240B.
Following him, the squad Designated Marksman, a Corporal by the name of McKinney, hefted his M110 onto his shoulder and said, "Gonna be interesting, talking to pseudo-Romans... Anyone got their Latin dictionary?"
"Courtesy of command, all of us should have one," The squad Sergeant piped up, the little red booklet in her hand. Tamara Jones, simply known as Tammy to most, was a young woman of part-Middle Eastern, part-European descent and quite tomboyish in her appearance. A combination of 'handsome' and 'cute' worked perfectly to describe her. Despite what one would say about 'supermodels' not serving in the military, it seemed a proven fact that nobody really gave a shit about that and the military did hire girls like her. They just rarely came up to join.
"I learned Latin when I was in High School, sir," Another PFC, a young man with a slim, almost skeletal build, but that bore mostly the bulk of the muscle he'd gotten from his training, stated. Swampy brown eyes, buzzcut black hair hidden beneath his helmet and the squad's M249 MG in his hand, this was PFC Tim Shevchenko. Born of the descendants of Ukrainian immigrants, the young man had the clear-cut features of an Eastern European and the pale skin tone to match.
"If you're not too rusty in it, Sev," Torres offered and the man nodded, "Could use the help."
"Fuck's a Jarhead doing with high school education...?" Murmured the team's Corpsman, a grin on her face. The squad snorted at the antics of one Corporal Malory Coleman. Ginger-haired, part-Asian, part-Irish, the girl was decently cute, but she had more of a boisterous attitude and behavior than most lads. Even more of a tomboy than Tammy, for a fact.
"Getting a higher ASVAB score than you, Swabbie," The man shot back and the squad burst into laughter, while the Corpsman grinned deviously. She gave an approving nod to Sev, before the Lieutenant quietened them all down with a whistle to grab their attention. He shook his head, chuckling, then tilted his head to the right and turned toward the vehicle.
Clambering aboard the AAV through the back hatches and ladders, the group manned the grenade launcher-toting amphibious vehicle and were soon joined by the crew. The Lieutenant settled himself on top of the vehicle, rifle swung behind him and a white flag, a sign he hoped they understood, in one hand. This wasn't a sign of surrender by any means, but more a show that they wanted to talk.
Admittedly, probably an interesting image for these people. Two of Misfit's tanks rolled up behind them, namely 1-3 and 1-4. Staff Sergeant Welkin's tank being 1-3. He knew Welkin well enough, but the two hadn't spoken much even before this. He cued his com mic and said, "1-3, keep her steady and don't fire unless the bastards decide to engage us... Keep your hatches shut."
"Roger, Hitman," Replied the man. As the vehicles rolled over the hills and toward the enemy's encampment, they caught sight of the forest of colored tents. The man stood to his feet, showing the White Flag as the enemy soldiers appeared. Many of them came out of their tents from resting and preparation, clearly, seeing as they weren't wearing their armors. While the two tanks bringing up the rear kept their turrets and cannons pointed both to the left and right, the AAV kept its 50cal-and-Mk19 turret pointing forward.
Thankfully, it seemed the hostile soldiers understood the significance of the white flag. They nodded, some of them stepping back into their tents, but all of them staring with disbelieving looks at what they must've thought were war chariots without horses rolling into their camps. Yeah, the Lieutenant could understand some of the looks all of'em were giving them.
He set down the white flag as the vehicles approached the center of the camp, then ordered a halt and disembarked himself and his troops. The tanks, meanwhile, maintained rear security. He called up his squad and said, "Sev, Coleman and Sandhurst, with me. Sarge, you have the deck. Form a perimeter around our vehicles and keep your guns at the ready."
The Marines saluted and immediately went to work, forming a circle around the AAV while the Abrams tanks flanked the transport, turning their turrets yet again to face the two directions, their commanders manning the M2 50 cals on the top. The Lieutenant marched with his three selected personnel toward the enemy's command tent just as one of their soldiers burst into the place.
The Lieutenant intended to get them to back off before any more of their own people had to die for the Empire that left them behind. The Lieutenant pushed his way into the tent, only to be met by the surprised gazes of three men, each of them seemingly the commanders of the armed forces camped outside. One of them was a man clad in a scarlet armor set, with an eyepatch draped over his eye, long brown hair and a beard and mustache. He stood to his feet, demanding something in Latin as he went for his sword. The Marines removed the safeties of their weapons and cocked them, before the Lieutenant said, "Tell him we mean no harm... For now."
Sev quickly translated, keeping his weapon at the ready just in case the tent guards tried something. The man ahead of him demanded something that Sev translated as, "He wants to know what we're doing in the tent of the Allied Kingdoms' Armies commanders."
The Lieutenant noted the massive table with a map in the middle, as well as the armor stands, the guards and the other three or four surviving officers of this 'Allied Kingdoms Army', before looking straight to the man that questioned them and spoke, "I'm Lieutenant Henry Torres, member of the United States Marine Corps and part of an army deployed to counter the aggression of the Empire against a nation allied with us that sat beyond the Gate. We came here under an armistice flag to speak of your withdrawal or surrender."
The king was taken aback, glaring at the man, before speaking(yet again, with Sev translating), "Many a general and friend of ours has died on these fields with nothing to show for it! Duke Ligu, a close friend of mine and my Kingdom's is gone... Our men will not falter in the face of your forces. I care little for what you have to say, especially if it is nonsense like our surrender..." and he prepared to draw his sword.
The Lieutenant replied, glaring at him, "Our armed forces wield weapons beyond whatever blade, bow and arrow you may think yourselves mighty in. Our weapons aren't honor-bound and they can kill tens of thousands of your own in the blink of an eye, as could be seen during the first and second waves of your unwitting, moronic assault against our lines. Who are you, then?"
"I am king Duran, leader of the Kingdom of Elbe and the overall Commander of this allied army," Duran replied, his grip tight around the hilt of his sword.
The Lieutenant bowed respectfully, showing the rest of his squad to do the same, then stated with a strange firmness in his voice, "Your Highness, I ask you from a soldier and commander to another, do you want to find out what has killed duke Ligu and his forces? Because I'm certain the Empire would very much love to find out how the remainder of your troops, currently and clearly halved, would fare against us..."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Demanded another of the Chiefs of Staff of the allied army, looking at the Lieutenant, "The Imperial Army was to be fighting to your rear!"
"We have no Imperial Army soldiers' corpses or equipment among the dead we counted so far out of your ranks," The Lieutenant shot back, shocking Duran. Henry then offered, "You may come to see the corpses we've recovered from the field and are preparing to bury if you wish, but believe us, only men from your Allied Army lay dead around Alnus."
Duran paused, narrowing his eyes, then sighed, "I had told Ligu something strange was afoot... But how can we trust those we fight? How do we know you tell the truth?"
"We came here as an envoy, to represent our peoples and army. We are offering you the chance to recover the dead of your allies, including the Duke's body, should you find it among the stacks, so they may be properly buried with your rites," Torres replied, "We only came armed because we aren't morons... I'm certain you would have come armed, too, if you were to speak to the officer cadre of our Army... Safety and all."
Duran hummed, narrowing his lips, then inquired, "What weapons do you even wield, Lieutenant Torres?"
He patted his gun and said, "Firearms. Almost magical to you, certainly, but quite mundane to us. I can offer a demonstration if you wish, or you can scour the dead and see the wounds these weapons alone can leave on the body of any man. And these are our weakest weapons, ones which are man-portable. We have other vehicle-mounted weapons waiting outside..."
Duran's mind seemed to flash back for a moment, to the early beginnings of the assault. He hummed, sighed, then nodded, "So... That was what threw our men around like ragdolls... You seek to tell us your weapons are positioned outside this very tent now, too?"
Torres shrugged, then nodded.
He shook his head, then murmured, "If this is what the Imperials faced... Damn you, Molt, you rotten bastard... Did you send us here only so we would not be a threat anymore?" before he gazed forward, first casting a glance toward Sev, then to the Lieutenant, and offering, "We will... Go home, then. And consider what we can do. The Allied Kingdoms, all of us, are vassal states to the Empire."
"An Empire whose military might may've just been curbed before you were sent in to fight us," The Lieutenant grinned.
"I wish to meet your officers when possible, Lieutenant. I will leave a map of the continent with your forces, so you may know where to find Elbe. If you wish to speak with us, we may be open to... Discussions."
"Whenever you see fit, I guess," The Lieutenant shrugged, "Gonna have to talk to my superiors about that... However, if you're pulling a sneaky right now, sir, I'm gonna be honest, there will be no mercy for you, or your troops. We'll have eyes on your retreat until you're just past the other side of this valley. Otherwise, Your Highness, have a safe trip home... And try not to piss off the Imps if they even have an army left."
Duran hummed, grinned and said, "Very well, Lieutenant. Take care of yourself, too. Farewell."
As the group exited the tent, the Lieutenant instantly exhaled a breath he'd almost been holding onto for dear life, before stating, "Well, at least we didn't have to shoot our way out..." before motioning to his team to board the AAV again. He pulled up his radio and transmitted, "Hitman to Misfit elements, we're mobile again... Mission accomplished. King Duran's army should be retreating... If they don't, we waste'em when they come for us again."
"Rog. We're Oscar Mike," The tank commander replied as the group boarded the AAV. The return to base was marked by silence, with the Lieutenant tossing aside the white flag and shuddering as he wiped his hands on his vest. No Marine should ever have to touch a fucking White Flag for anything. Command should'a fucking sent someone else instead, honestly.
Upon reaching the FOB, the Marine Lieutenant went to report the situation. Quick with the info, the man had been told that Snipers would be watching Duran's every move. Meanwhile, he had another job to deal with. A fairly important job that would place him into a position where he would work with his old friend, Itami. The man blinked, then looked between the US and other Earthling staff members in the tent.
"... You want us to be the vanguard...?" He asked, confused.
"We'll need an exploration team to find the meeting location. We have no GPS yet, so we will actively be relying on you and Lieutenants Youji, Kalinin and Yang for this operation," Answered one of the Colonels, a Russian, as he looked over maps of the surrounding area made from drone feeds. Henry's shoulders sagged, but he heard the Russian say, "Lieutenant Kalinin and her team will explore to the North, while Yang and his team will be advancing south. Your job is a direct, Eastern exploration alongside Lieutenant Youji and his Recon Team."
"You'll be a refurbished HITMAN Formation, callsign HITMAN-3," Cole offered, "The other two teams will be HITMAN-1 and HITMAN-2. Seeing as we're backed against the mountains, we'll rely on you folks to make the west-bound exploration, as well. Take whatever vics you need and meet up with Itami at the front. Whomever these UNSC folks are, they're probably gonna be relying on us playing nice."
"We will be, sir. Right?" Inquired Henry. The Colonels nodded, to which the man felt a weight suddenly lift off his shoulders. He then said, "Alright... I'll be taking an MTRV and an AAV with our unit, plus the ammo and supplies for a prolonged run through the jungle. If we gotta depart, we may as well do it now, while there's still sunlight. We'll also check on the King's retreat."
"Good plan," The Russian Colonel noted.
"Dismissed, lieutenant Torres," Nodded Cole, "Stay safe out there."
"Planning on it, sir," He nodded, then saluted the men and women inside, feeling a slight disgust at saluting the Ruski and Chinese soldiers inside, but alas. Marching yet again outside, the man was greeted by the scent of motor oil, freshly-poured concrete and cordite, followed by the images of the Engineers and Construction Battalions finally starting work on the FOB itself. He walked to the motorpool once more, stopping only as he saw his squad tending to their AAV, then looked to see Itami marching up to him.
"How'd the talks go?" Itami inquired.
"The army of dumbasses should be pulling out now," The man nodded, "King Duran seems like the smart type. Could be a good pal for us here."
"I bet," Itami nodded, "So... Got assigned with us to RCT 3, AKA HITMAN-3?" and he smiled. Torres nodded, then arranged his helmet on his head. He looked back, to see the rest of his own team approaching, before saying, "Gonna be fun, I guess. Y'know, exploring an Isekai world?" And he flashed a grin, causing Torres to snort and cover his mouth.
"God fucking dammit, I was wondering when you were gonna mention that, dude," He chuckled, then elbowed Itami in the shoulder. He looked over to see the Japanese members of the RCT. Fourteen soldiers per total with Itami, including two women. Kurokawa, a medic he'd met during a training exercise and another girl, that, if he recalled, was called Kuribayashi.
Where Kurokawa was a tall beauty with black hair, blue eyes and all the poise and grace of a ballerina, Kuribayashi was a brown-haired country-bumpkin tomboy with brown eyes. She saluted the Lieutenants, then said, "Sir. Good to know we're running with the Corps for a change... Any idea what our job is? Command's been rather loopy," And she cast a sideways glance at Itami.
The man snorted while Itami rolled his eyes, then said to Kuribayashi, "At ease. Job's basic Recce and finding a location where our Command Staff can meet the other big military with combat drone capabilities on this world."
"Huh. That explains the drones flying around us," Kuribayashi remarked, "What military is it, sir?"
He shrugged, "Only know the acronym they identified themselves by. 'UNSC'," and he saw something light up in Kuribayashi's eyes for a second. She cupped her chin, taking a thinker's pose as she paused to consider the acronym. He asked, "Something ring a bell, Sergeant?" before she nodded, then shrugged. Must've been something or other from the past. Truth be told, UNSC was the United Nations Security Council, so...
"Can't be the UN-SEC, can it?" Itami inquired with a hint of concern.
"We'll find out once we run into them. Keep us posted if you remember it, Sergeant Kuribayashi," Torres replied, "Anyways, we should mount up and head out while it's still light out. Gather whatever supplies we need. Food, water, spare ammo and parts. I want us moving ASAP. You okay with that, Itami?" And he looked to his SDF friend and liaison. The man smiled.
"Roger that," He nodded, "Let's get to it, team."