Itami and Torres's HITMAN-3 began their rollout early in the morning. Reinforced by one Abrams from Misfit, namely 1-3, the UN force composed of Japanese and American troops moved down the beaten path near the Gate. Two SDF transports, an LAV with a fifty cal on top, an MTRV, also armed with a fifty, and an AAV rode down the path toward their intended search area and the meet-up point they needed to find.
Itami rode in the middle vehicle with a chunk of his team, followed by the other Mitsubishi transport and their Komatsu LAV, while the M1A1 Abrams Misfit 1-3 led from the front. The MTRV followed close behind the Komatsu, while the AAV brought up the rear, with the troops riding on top of it instead of in the back. Itami could see their rear elements and he could also see Torres riding shotgun in the MTRV.
"This is like a road trip exercise," Itami noted, leaning his Howa Type-64 BR on his shoulder, safety on. Gazing ahead at the rear of the tank, he hummed and leaned himself back into his chair, stating, "Feels like the early training days during one of the Exercises, where most we did was just get in position and prep to 'fight' the enemy, whoever they were..."
"Sounds like fun, Lieutenant," Smirked Kurata, a Sergeant in the corps, "Still... Man, you'd think we'd see some interesting things this trip. All it's been so far is just combat, combat, combat..."
"Interesting like what, Sergeant? We haven't really been here that long. This is our first outing from around Alnus..." Itami inquired, much to the chagrin of the rest of those sat in the back of the vehicle. Kurata had to keep his eyes on the road, being the driver of the transport, but it was clear he was still trying to speak to Itami. He seemed to be taking a moment to think about what to say, though.
"Y'know..." He shrugged, "This is a Fantasy world like we see in a lot of Doujins. You'd expect to see at least a catgirl or something nearby..."
"Pff," Itami chuckled, "You're telling me. Most I've seen so far are orcs and a bunch of guys in medieval equipment..."
As Itami and Kurata began their chat about things that they wanted to see, Torres listened in, a grin on his face as he waited to tell the two they were transmitting on convoy com. He rubbed his eyes, then murmured to himself, "I swear to god, this man finds kindred souls in the weirdest fucking places..." before looking to his teammates as they started snickering in the back. He said, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it the fuck up. Not like Taylor isn't a weeb."
"El-Tee, I was about to snap back, but I think I may get my own ass court martialed if I do," The Squad's automatic rifleman replied. He was manning the fifty on top of the MTRV. Torres and the others laughed at the reply, before their medic murmured something, a smile on her face as she chowed down on an MRE. Torres missed the old banter with the squad.
He looked at himself, then said, "Fucking again..." as he noticed the mix-match uniform, "Anyone worried about the fact they gave us the old woodland kit from the Gulf War?"
"Nah," The driver replied, then added calmly, "Least it ain't the fuckin' MOPP suits my dad had to run with, sir. All due respect, I'm a hint glad that these bastards can't exactly produce chemical weapons..." as they rolled past a berm that led down to a small river. Right as he was, since that would've been somewhat reminiscent of the Iraq War, the US was wondering just how much of a fuss they were gonna have with the Imps. The place was medieval after all, for fuck's sake.
He hummed as Itami and Kurata got to some of the weirder parts of their convo, before lifting up his radio's microphone and calling out, "HITMAN-3-1, your radio's broadcasting across the Convoy..." before hearing the two men scramble, one of them swearing in Japanese, and switch the vehicle's radio to press-to-talk. He rolled his eyes, chuckled, then added, "Anyone got any good tunes with'em? I left my mix at FOB."
"I got some Rolling Stones if y'all wanna feel like we're in 'Nam," Replied Stephens, grinning.
"Anyone else?" He asked, looking over to the rest of the group. Some shrugged,
"AC/DC here. Real Gulf War shit, sir," McKinney stated, checking his DMR's scope and cleaning it. The Lieutenant sighed, then murmured to himself something about old-school, before turning to face the main window of the MTRV again. He extended his hand back and was handed the two USB drives. He rolled his eyes, checking for a device in his backpack to help these things be read, before slotting one in and clicking shuffle. Playing out of the speakers of the device which now sat on the armored dash of the truck, drums signaled the kickoff of 'Sympathy for the Devil'.
Torres sighed, arranging his body armor kit, before stating, "We've got a long-ass way to go... Did these folks even say where the hell we were supposed to go?"
"Said to just continue eastward. One of their own units stepped off earlier than us, if I recall correctly," Tammy stated as she crawled up to the front of the vehicle. Torres looked to her, raising a brow, before she stated, "I jumped onto the trailer from the AAV. I know, I know, shit's dangerous, but I figured I'd stay with you guys. Fuckin' Mike started singing Baby Shark."
"And you didn't shoot him, Sarge?" Taylor commented, grinning.
"Nah, son, I'm leaving that to you and the Ma Deuce," She replied sarcastically, before plopping herself down on the chair behind the Lieutenant and pulling out a Cig. She said to Torres, "Presume you heard Youji and his Sergeant talking about weeb bullshit, El-Tee... Not gonna join?" as she lit a match. Stephens looked at her for a moment, before choosing to ignore it and taking a swig from his canteen.
"No smoking inside the truck, Jones," Torres replied, grinning.
She rolled her eyes, packed the cig and blew out the fire, before stating, "I like Rolling Stones, boss..." and looking out the window. Torres chuckled, looking ahead as he let the track play on. Checking his own M4 and keeping the safety on, he started murmuring the last of the lyrics as he did final checks on the rifle. As Hitman-3's convoy rolled forward and the tracks kept playing over the specialized player, the clock struck past midday.
Taking a slight right and moving down a road on another berm, the group seemed to be making good progress toward their possible future allies. Or future Cold War opponents. It all depended on how both the first meeting between soldiers and the one between the suit-wearing politicians went. Torres sighed, before hearing the Radio crackle. The commander of Misfit 1-3 called out, "Misfit to all HITMAN-3 elements, we're seeing a settlement up ahead. You want us to take a pit stop here?"
Torres lifted up his own mic and said, "Could be a good idea, Misfit. May give us an option to get some directions in this mess of a place. Three-One, what do you think?"
"With you, Three-Two. Let's make a short stop," The Japanese officer replied calmly.
"Roger. All HITMAN elements, this is Three-Two. Prepare for temporary stop near by unknown village. Weapons on safe, but at the ready," Ordered the Lieutenant, before nodding as the vehicles all parked off to the sides of the road, to allow any potential future traffic to advance past them. The Abrams remained near the front, gun pointing down the road opposite where they came from, past the village and toward the unknown areas as the rest of the convoy dismounted.
Torres ordered, "Alright, everyone, secure a perimeter, maintain patrol. I, Itami and our translator," He grabbed his trooper by the arm and pulled him toward them, "Will be talking to the locals to figure the rest of our route out," before looking around at the villagers as they came out to greet them. The archway into town had writing in their language. Torres arranged his helmet, then switched on his personal radio and said, "Keep us posted, Misfit."
"Rog. We're keeping our eyes and thermals open," The tank commander said as the tank's turret motors whirred quietly, traversing it.
The villagers seemed almost surprised to see them as they entered, their weapons lowered. Visible at the farthest end of the village was some form of church or religious grounds with a graveyard. To the left and right, various types of houses ranging from small huts to actual small villas resided. The place was clearly an orchard village, what with the small forest of fruit trees around it.
The Lieutenants looked around, before a young woman stopped in front of them and asked them something. Shevchenko translated, "She asked us what we're looking for... They're clearly a bit scared, sir."
"Tell them we mean no harm. We just want directions," Torres stated, looking to his team to see one of them already flirting with a local. He rolled his eyes, then ordered, "Tammy, mind getting Jake back in line?" before hearing the giggle of the young Sergeant as she marched up to the boy. The Sergeant dragged the Marine's ass back to the front of the convoy, allowing Torres and Itami to look to Sev.
He said, "She asked us where we're headed."
"Midpoint between here and... I think the folks we're supposed to meet told Hazama something about a forest farther that general direction, farther out," He stated, "Just tell her we're looking for a forest nearby."
Sev nodded, then translated. She smiled, nodded, then turned toward an elderly, stout man with tan skin and grey hair, waving him over. The old man, bearing a local peasant's hat. Upon his introduction in Latin, Sev looked over to the Lieutenants and said, "This is the Village Elder, Tomas. The girl says he can give us directions to the forest we're looking for."
Torres and Itami hummed, looked to the old man, then smiled in thanks. The man smiled back, then looked to Sev and asked something. He replied, then said to the two Lieutenants, "He also says we're welcome to stay here for the night, should it be required when we return," before all of them noticed the children rushing out to see the soldiers. Several of them crowded around each member of the team save for the officers and Sev and many more crowded around the vehicles.
"Kids are curious," Noted Torres, a smile on his face.
"That they are," Itami replied. He looked over to see Kuribayashi and Kurokawa dealing with the kids that came to them, with Shino seemingly befriending a bunch of them despite the language barrier. The old man commented something, a hint of awe in his voice, to which Sev chuckled and replied. Torres and Itami quirked brows up, curious over what the laughter was.
"Man is surprised that we have women bearing arms into battle," Remarked the translator PFC. Torres and Itami let out a short laugh each, before turning. After another short minute of talking to Elder Tomas, the Marines and SDF troops were loading back up into their vehicles. Torres hummed, pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to the man, offering a quick nod goodbye and walking up to the MTRV. Boarding it, the group waved a quick goodbye to the Civvies before they started rolling forward again.
Aboard Itami's vehicle, the man hummed, stating, "Relaxing trip so far."
"Yeah... I guess it's better than getting shot at or attacked," Kurata sighed, then murmured, "Still no catgirls..."
"Relax... I'm sure we'll find some," Itami said, garnering a smile out of the previously-disappointed boy. Itami, meanwhile, shifted in his seat, gazing forward and trying to look past the tank to see what is ahead. The damn thing was big, so it pretty much shielded whatever was ahead. Itami could barely see the sky as clouds seemed to gather, blacking out the sun and the blue dome itself.
Slightly concerned over the fact he couldn't see anything, Itami called up, "Misfit 1-3. We got anything in the front?"
"Negative, HITMAN Three-One. Scopes are clear for now, though there's a hill we're gonna be climbing to get a better overview..." The commander of the tank replied. The group waited to crest the hill before making any comments. Itami was about to ask what they saw, but Staff Sergeant Welkin called out over the com, "Holy shit... HITMAN, I'm clearing you a path so you can see this!"
Beyond the tank, the now-tense Itami and his squad could see billowing pillars of smoke rising high into the clouds above, darkening the area around. Below, just as they crested the hill, they saw it. A forest half-ablaze, tracer fire lighting the sky. Above it, two aircraft barreled out of the area at mach, the opposite direction from which HITMAN came. Hovering above the burning forest, meanwhile, seemingly taking the brunt of the fire, a red dragon flapped its wings menacingly, then let out a guttural roar.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Torres murmured.
"That's the forest they told us about! The one with the Elf village!" Sev balked, "Holy shit..."
"We got a fucking tank," Torres said, then called up, "Welkin, man! Can you guys put a fucking round into that thing!?"
"We can try!" Replied the man, but static followed on the radio. Then, a man's voice.
"... Manning the Gauss! I got the fucking Gauss gun on the 'Hog! If our guns can't pen the son of a bitch, I bet this should be able to!" Said voice spoke, before calling out, "Repeating broadcast! To any and all UNSC air assets in the area! We're requesting immediate support! We've been engaged by a dangerous creature, a fucking fire dragon! This thing's scales are thick as all hell and we need bigger kit! We've got injured, both civilian and our own! Send backup, ASAP!"
"Itami..." Torres spoke, his eyes wide as the bore of a fifty cal, "Did you hear?"
"We did..." The Japanese Lieutenant stated, shocked.
"El-Tee! Hit the motherfucker with the Gauss! I got us a pair of Jackhammers! Figured we may need the damn things anyhow!" Another voice, female this time, cried over the radio. The group immediately saw a flash, a line of white light, then gazed upon the staggering flying monster as it recoiled from the hit. The girl cheered, several expletives matched into it, before stating, "THAT RATTLED THE FUCKER! Again, boss! Again! Ivanov, grab a Jackhammer and help me fucking take this thing down!"
"Shit! It's coming for another breath attack!" A Russian-accented voice called out.
"Edward!" Torres demanded, fear welling up in his chest.
"GUNNER!" The man called out through Radio.
"UP!"
"FIRE!"
The Abrams rocked back as the 120mm cannon of the Abrams kicked with high recoil, the muzzle flash and blast shaking the crews of the other vehicles. The Armor-Piercing Fin-Stabilized round barreled toward the target just as it flapped its wings to evade. It caught its elbow, exploding it outward in a gush of scales and blood, before roaring in pain and swiveling about. It flew out of the area, its destroyed arm left behind.
"Shit..." Torres let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, "Nice fucking hit."
"Would've had the fucker center mass if he didn't move," The gunner replied over the com, slightly disgruntled, while his crewmates laughed. Torres sighed in relief, leaning back against his seat, while the rest of the team began to laugh. Even over the com, they could hear the cheers of the soldiers that they'd just rescued, with Torres listening to them throwing insults at the monster in English, Russian, French and even Latin as it fled.
"Whoever the fuck just put a shell through that thing's arm, THANK YOU! You just saved our asses down here!" The female cried over the com while her comrades whooped and cheered, She added, "Sure, might've gotten the fucker with the Jackhammers, but we were about to be fried..." as an afterthought, before laughing and coughing as well. Clearly, the smoke must've gotten to them.
"Heh... Roger..." Torres spoke over the com, "Be advised, friendly force, this is HITMAN THREE. We are a few hundred meters out from your location..." and he watched as rainfall started, "And it looks like the fire won't be a problem anymore. Interrogative:Do you require medical aid and supplies? We've brought some aboard our trucks just in case..."
"HITMAN Three, this is Third Platoon. That's affirmative. We have sixty KIA, thirty heavily wounded, including two of my own men. Not enough supplies to help them. Saved as much of the village as we could, but we got a lot of shit thrown our way by that Dragon... Thank fuck we found the Gauss guns work on the damn thing, huh?" The Lieutenant noted, "Interrogative from my side:Are you the UN away team?"
"That's affirm, Third Platoon... You guys don't carry a callsign?" He inquired.
"Left so quickly, command forgot to give us one," Laughed the man in charge, "See you groundside, HITMAN Three."
As heavy rainfall began, pattering against their vehicles, the US and SDF troops rolled down the hill toward the village. Half the forest had burned, but the rainfall dealt with the fire before it got too out of control. The road, however, was filled with wet ash and soot as the vehicles advanced, partially sinking into the mud, but powering their engines to the maximum to continue their advance.
They reached the area that the soldiers and civilians had taken shelter, with Kurokawa and Coleman rushing out of their vics with their medkits. Disembarking from the vehicles, the Marines and SDF troops saw the squadron of soldiers clad in futuristic armor and carrying even more futuristic rifles tending to the wounded while the High Elves mourned their dead in the rainfall and their corpsman tended to the wounded.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Torres murmured, looking at the dead, before eyeing the man that approached. He had Lieutenant's markings on his shoulder pads, approaching with a tired, but joyous look on his face. He saluted Itami and Torres, both of whom saluted back. Torres stated, "Lieutenant Henry Torres, United States Marine Corps and Lieutenant Youji Itami, Japanese Self-Defense Force."
The man nodded, "Lieutenant Richard Samuels, UNSC Marine Corps. Pleasure to meet you, gentlemen... Shame it's under such a fuckup of a day."
"Tell us about it," Itami murmured, scanning the dead and wounded. He looked over to Richard once more, determined, then asked, "You said you had thirty wounded. You have a truck and we have a couple of transport vics ourselves. Do you need help transporting them back to base?"
"Ours is a bit farther away, but yeah, we could use the backup hauling the wounded here..." Replied Richard.
"We'll get them to our FOB, then..." Itami offered, "We've got room to spare."
While Torres wanted to protest, the UNSC Lieutenant did it for him by stating, "You sure it's a good idea to host the soldiers of an army unknown to you as of yet, Lieutenant?" before smiling. Itami shrugged, allowing Richard to look to Torres and say, "Is he always like this?" while setting his rifle to 'safe'. 'Course, trust was to be earned, not given.
Torres nodded, "Since I met him," and he smirked. While Itami frowned at that and while everyone else was doing their jobs, including preparing and triaging the wounded to load into the transports, Kuribayashi stared from afar, rifle in hand and her eyes wide. Her face parsed through a myriad of emotions, ranging from joy, to surprise, to utter fucking fear and, finally, settling into a healthy mix of joy and confusion.
She knew them. She knew the UNSC.
Oh, boy...