Quickdraw101
Beware My Power-Green Lantern's Light
Hawaii, The United States of America
Mauna Kea Observatory
April 26th, 2081
"So what are we looking at here?" Elias Drucker said as he studied the most recent photographs from the Deep Space Defense Network. Satellites of the United Nations Space Defense Initiative, had captured these photographs' mere hours ago. These same photos that had sent Space Defense Analysts and military officers from around the world in a frenzy since they were transmitted to their headquarters in Houston, Texas. Even after hours of studying thermal, infrared, and spectroscopic imagery, there was no denying what they were looking at. Even after hoping and praying that it was a mistake, or some type of natural phenomena, the results weren't wrong.
"There's no denying it," Sarah Yeager said grimly, passing a photo off to Drucker, one with a far more detailed analysis. "Thirty two satellites and fifteen ground based observatories are showing the same thing. Massive thermal trails behind what are obviously objects of mechanical nature. All indications point towards this being craft propelled by a type of fusion drive, and from what we can see so far, almost 100 objects have been independently verified by our satellites." She watched as everyone in the room processed what she had just told them, and what they were seeing as the screen at the end of the room.
"As of this moment, we have no idea who they belong to, but they are far slower, and use obviously different propulsion methods than our old enemy. While we've yet to achieve a clear and precise photography of what they look like, they aren't anything we are familiar with." Came the voice of Adam Larssen, one of the Initiative's head researchers. "While our computers are still running simulations, estimates say that at their current speed, they won't reach the outer edges of our solar system for another ten years."
As he said that, military officers all around the room pulled out phones and began conversations with unknown personnel on the other side. More than a few of the researchers were obviously nervous, and it showed on their faces, and the way some of them jittered in place. Officers from every nuclear power and space capable nation were locked in conversation with their superiors over these developments, some doing little better to hide their feelings than the researchers. The war with the Phauthi was in living memory, and currently the United Nations was already engaged in yet another war, in another world. Having a third force of extraterrestrials approaching Earth, with another large fleet? There was no better way for the old scars and memories of the past to be dredged up, and thrown back in Humanity's face.
"Where are they coming from?" Asked an Officer of Indian Navy, drawing nods of agreement from others in the room. Larssen waited a few seconds before giving his answer.
"While we haven't been able to narrow down exactly where they came from, our current analysis shows that due to the alignment of nearby stars, the historic positioning of our interstellar neighborhood, the speed at which these craft are travelling at, they have likely come from the direction of the Constellation Cetus, and the closest planet in that constellation, Tau Ceti, is situated just under 12 light years from Earth." Larssen clarified. "While there is still much research to be done, the most likely candidate planet is Tau Ceti. How we never caught wind of a civilization inhabiting the system, we don't know."
"Assuming they are even from Tau Ceti in the first place." Drucker said. "The Tau Ceti system is low in iron, as well as other vital elements and metals that would be key for a civilization to arise there. Not to mention the star itself is older than our own, so that raises further questions about the validity of these new aliens being from a star of such composition, and such close distance to us."
"But you can't deny the obvious, Elias," Mathew Zinn argued. "All our computer simulations, analyzation of star charts, and the historical orbit of every star in the path of this fleet, point to it originating from that star system. While I'm just as baffled as you are about this, we can't stick our heads in the sand over this."
"I'm not denying what this is, but there's so much that doesn't make sense about this! How can it be coming from Tau Ceti of all places!" Drucker asked.
"We believe we may be able to help with that," a new voice said from behind them." As everyone in the room turned to face the voice, they were met with the sight of half a dozen men and women, dressed in sharp black and white suits. Behind them, were twice as many soldiers, wearing dark blue berets, escorting them in.
"And who might you people be?" Drucker asked.
"People who have information that will help you to determine the origin of these spacecraft." The lead suit said. "While your models seem to be correct, there's a lot more to this than you realize. Please, take a seat, this will take some time to explain properly."
"I'm not sure what else there is to explain here," Yeager answered. "There's another fleet of alien starships on approach to Earth, a fleet mind you, that's approaching Earth less than a century after the War of First Contact began."
"One that's far different than the Phauthi as far as we can tell, and is approaching from an entirely different vector of arrival." Larssen added, whose gears began turning in his head at the realization hit him like a grain of sand at 99% light speed. "What a minute, do you mean to tell us you've known about this?"
"Yes and no." one of the suits answered quickly. "But when this came to our attention, it made some other pieces of information we have, make a lot more sense."
"What kind of information?" Drucker probed. After he asked the question, the soldiers that came with them, closed and locked the door, with half a dozen of the soldiers staying outside, to make sure they weren't disturbed.
"Information that isn't to leave this room." Another suit said, looking behind himself at the now locked door, before turning back to those in the room. "Now, let us explain what we know, and how it pertains to what you've discovered."
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As the images from what was occurring in Proptor came across the TV screens all across Fort Hadrian, thousands of UN soldiers, marines, and sailors, could only watch in wide eyed horror and astonishment at what they were witnessing. An army was marching on the UN positions outside the port city of Proptor, which had been captured not even a week ago. Thousands of Immortals, dozens of Ogres, an assortment of Mages, and at least a hundred wyverns, were slowly making their way towards the city. A large, blueish-white shield was cast over the approaching army
A Flame Dragon, far larger than any that had been encountered to date, was bearing down on the UN Positions in and around the port city of Proptor. And that wasn't even the worst part about what they were witnessing. No matter what the troops on the ground, aircraft in the sky, or ships at sea threw at it, the beast wasn't slowing down in any fashion. A bright aura surrounded the creature, keeping it safe from unholy barrage set upon it by United Nations Forces. What made the situation even worse was that the army accompanying the Dragon had the exact same barrier over it, rendering them untouchable to anything being thrown at them. Bright flashes of light erupted from just behind them, followed by arcs of lightning shooting up into the sky, and hitting a number of helicopters flying over. Some of them even went down, engulfed in blue flame, before slamming into the ground.
They watched as the army marched forward, unimpeded by the UN assault, and finally reached the outer defensive perimeter. The hill became engulfed in flames as the Flame Dragon torched anything and everything in its path sending hundreds of UN soldiers and marines fleeing for their lives, and burning scores of them alive. Soft skinned vehicles rolled down the hill, covered in flames that melted through the thin armor and composite materials of its construction. Most rolled down aimlessly, their occupants having been burned to death, but some were still obviously being controlled by drivers, who tried to veer out of the path of the Flame Dragon's wrath, as well as their fellow soldiers.
Some of the heavier vehicles, those that weren't destroyed atop the hill by either the Dragon, or the Mages accompanying the army, desperately tried to cover the retreat of their comrades. A Mexican Abrams, that fled not to far behind its colleagues, still fired at the Dragon, hoping to draw its attention off the vulnerable infantry on the ground. The tactic worked, although a bit too well as the assortment of Mages focused their power on it. A dozen bolts of blue energy slammed into it, piercing the armor, and sending the turret flying off into the sky as the ammunition compartment erupted into flame.
"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Master Sergeant Davids exclaimed as he stared slack jawed at the TV inside the planning room. His feelings and reactions weren't that much different than all the other team leaders present in the room. The room erupted into agitated conversation between the various squad leaders in the room, all of them just as baffled as the rest over this new development.
The news feed soon shifted to a combat cameraman who was among those trying to flee from the onslaught of Saderan forces. While his camera feed was shaky, there was mistaking the sheer chaos and pandemonium occurring at the UN lines. It wasn't long before the cameramen themselves were overrun, as Immortals rushed into the frame of the camera, cutting down the squad of soldiers assigned to protect the com cam. Then, a new combatant entered the frame, right as the camera was dropped, clattering to the ground, and just the right angle to show the combat cameraman drawing his pistol at the new foe.
The soldier fired at the knight rushing towards him, but it was to no avail. The knight dashed forward, and plunged the sword directly into the soldier's stomach. The soldier coughed out blood as the knight pulled him in closer, impaling him even further on the blade. The soldier collapsed, blood pouring from his mouth, and soaking his uniform where the sword had pierced. The same knight who had impaled the soldier, looked over at the camera, and began walking towards it. He titled it up, staring into the lens for a few seconds, a maniacal grin plastered across his face. The blonde haired man let out a laugh that sent a chill running down the spine of many of those watching the live feed. He then threw the camera aside, and continued on with his mission. Right before the live feed was dropped, those in the room got a good look at the combat cameraman, laying on the ground, unable to move, and his eyes wide in terror and pain.
It was at that moment that the feed was cut, and shifted to a different angle of the battlefield, specifically from a camera crew well behind the front, within the Port city itself.
"How the fuck is this happening?" Lieutenant Jack Mitchell asked to no one in particular, as he watched the scene unfolding on the viewscreen. He wondered how something like this was even possible. Sure, they had magic and dragons, but they had previously encountered, and beaten them. They thought they faced the bulk of the Imperium's elite and most powerful forces at Alnus, with whatever it had left scattered across the continent. Now, here they were, with a force far more powerful than they had ever arrayed on the field against the UN. A dragon, the size of which dwarfed the mother they killed atop Alnus, leading a new army marching upon Proptor. Mages who had enough power to place a literal energy shield over an army of thousands of Immortals, and a wide assortment of ogres, and other monstrosities, stood arrayed against UN forces in heated battle.
Outside, the roar of jet engines could be heard as bombers and fighters both began taking off, heading towards the Port of Proptor. Bombers and fighters that were loaded down with the most powerful ordinance they could carry, hoping it would be enough to end the carnage at Proptor.
"And here we thought we had faced the best the Saderans had to throw at us," Captain Giovanni De Luca said with a sigh. "We were wrong, and now thousands of our men are paying the price for it."
"There's no way we could have known they'd be capable of this!" First Lieutenant Gerhard Weber said solemnly.
"Quite a bit in that regard it seems," Captain Rajiv Singh replied, pointing at the TV screen in front of them. The image of the giant flame dragon stampeding over UN positions was proof enough of that. It was a sight that hurt those watching. Knowing they couldn't do anything about it, hurt even more. "One of my friends on the flightline says they're loading nuclear ordinance onto fighters heading for the city. Comm channel keeps saying they're trying to evacuate what they can from the city just in case they breach the second phase line."
"This has turned into a grade A clusterfuck," Captain Gideon said with an angry sigh. "Barely a week and it looks as if we might actually lose. Makes me wonder what other surprises these bastards might pull from their sleeves."
"It seems we have some surprises of our own, look!" Davids said, pointing back at the TV screen. As everyone turned to face it, they got a close up view of elves fighting alongside UN soldiers on Phase Line Bravo. Those in the planning room stared in awe as they conjured up lightning from seemingly thin air, which they shot up towards the dragon. That same lightning, upon contact with the glistening barrier the mages had put up around the dragon, and by extension the army it was leading, broke holes in it. The room stayed silent as UN troops directed the elves to focus their magic on the head and neck of the beast, allowing soldiers with anti tank missiles to target the gaps made by the elves magic.
Multiple rockets hit home on its neck, making the dragon flinch back in pain, and stare down at the source of the attack. But right as it got ready to unleash its flaming breath upon the nuisance it saw before it, a blinding bright light erupted atop the dragon, as well as the entire army marching on Proptor. When the light dissipated, the aura that had previously shielded not only the dragon, but the entire Saderan force, was now gone. Within moments of the protective barrier falling, all hell broke loose upon the Saderan formation.
The feed switched to another live feed present at Proptor, showing naval gunfire from just off the coast, a combination of railguns and anti ship missiles streaking out from the sea, and impacting the dragon. Aircraft high in the sky rained down fire on the army beneath it. On top of, in front of, behind, and all along the sides, bombs and guided munitions pounded the Saderan forces without mercy. The once mighty dragon that had but moments earlier threatened to overrun and destroy UN forces at Proptor, was torn to bloody ribbons from naval gunfire from ships directly off the coast. From above, a flight of B-52 bombers dropped Massive Ordnance Penetrators and other heavy penetrating explosives meant to rip through the dragon's tough scales.
Within minutes, the tide of the battle had turned from a slow grinding loss for United Nations Forces, to a wholesale slaughter as Naval and Air artillery tor through the previously invincible ranks of Imperial troops marching upon them. In the relatively short time the battle had waged, it swung violently from the United Nations being put on the backfoot by the most powerful force the Saderans had ever assembled, to UN forces regaining momentum, and obliterating the Saderan force that had come so close to tossing them out of the port city. However, it was thanks to the abilities of the various demihumans assembled on the field, that the line had managed to hold, and the Flame Dragon bearing down on UN forces, was able to be defeated. Their unique abilities, combined with the later known fact that the Saderan mages had become nearly exhausted from the United Nations bombardment, allowed the United Nations Defense Force to hold onto Proptor, and defeat the army arrayed against them. An army which up to that point was the most powerful ever assembled against them.
It was on that day that the demihumans had not only proved themselves to the United Nations, but had also gained their trust. Trust that would go a long way when the war was finally over.
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Port City of Proptor
Between Phase Line Bravo and Phase Line Charlie
April 26th, 2081
1630 Hours
The smell of burning flesh permeated in the air as Corporal Alex Jansen walked along the charred grounds between Phase Line Bravo and Phase Line Charlie, taking in the sight of destroyed and wrecked vehicles, charred bodied, and the mutilated corpse of the Flame Dragon that was left sprawled across the ground. Its body was a reminder to him and everyone else still alive in Proptor, of the damage the morning's battle had been. Nearly 1000 troops were killed, with half that number wounded, dozens of vehicles were destroyed or damaged beyond repair, and seven helicopters had been shot down during the course of the battle. Many of them had a hard time believing it was possible, yet it happened. After the Battle of Alnus Hill, it was thought that they had faced the best the Saderans could offer, but they were wrong.
It was a lesson for everyone to not get complacent, not to get sloppy. But at the same time, there wasn't anyone who could have predicted what happened. After all, if they had that power, why didn't they use it the moment they invaded Iceland? Or when the UN took control of Alpha and Bravo Point? In the end, it didn't matter. The Saderans struck with everything they had left to throw at the United Nations, hoping to dislodge them from the city. In the end it failed, but they had made the UN bleed, and made them pause to reevaluate the situation. Before Jansen could think about it any further, his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of shouting off to his left.
The vast majority of the wounded UN troops had suffered severe burns when their positions were overrun by the Flame Dragon. Medics on the ground had been nearly overwhelmed by the amount of third degree burns which the wounded were suffering from, and the logistics for treating them had been just as strained. Helicopter blades and VTOL engines roared overhead as flights to evacuate the wounded had been ongoing ever since the battle had ended earlier in the morning. It had been a rush to offload the wounded onto the mercy ships, and quickly transport them back through Bravo Point, which still carried on even into the afternoon.
"Move Move Move!" shouted a medic who brushed past Jansen, who was unaware of the stretcher team coming up behind him. He watched as a group of two medics ran past him, carrying a badly burned American soldier on the stretcher, and onto a waiting helicopter. Once they offloaded the wounded soldier, they sprinted from the helicopter, and went to yet another stretcher. As Jansen looked on, he saw over a dozen helicopters and VTOL transports were lined up along a makeshift runway, loading up all the wounded they could, and heading back out to the ships off the coast.
It was at this moment he realized just what he was doing. He was trying to find Private Guliwe after the chaos of the early morning battle, to make sure she was alright. He knew she was in the same Phase Line as he was, but that didn't stop some of the Immortals from managing to breach their lines and wreak havoc. When the fighting had finally ended, the various medics took care of the wounded, and infantry like him set out to retake the outer perimeter. Now that he was relieved by a newly arrived force of Boer Airborne flown in, Jansen was now free to find his friend.
As he walked up to the medical section of the outer perimeter, he couldn't help but stare at the hundreds of body bags that littered the ground, with soldiers all around to keep wild animals and scavengers away. So many were killed in so short a time, and most in the most horrific of manners. He shuddered a little at the thought of what they went through in their final moments. As he made his way through past the threshold, and into the encampment proper, he was met with an even more depressing sight. Dozens of medics, covered in blood and viscera, sat outside of medical tents where just as many other medics still worked on those with wounds not as severe as the rest. Some of them had their heads buried in their hands, some were crying, and some just stared off blankly into space. It was a dreadful atmosphere, that much was certain.
He went tent to tent, looking for Guliwe, hoping she was alright, and praying she wasn't among the dead and wounded. Luckily, it didn't take him long to find her, outside a triage tent near the center of the medical section. But as he approached, he noticed she didn't look up from the ground where she held her gaze, even as his shadow loomed over her.
"Hey, Guliwe," Jansen said, sitting down next to her on the bench. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern mounting inside him.
"Oh, hey, Jansen," she said tiredly, looking at him with a very exhausted expression. "Sorry, I'm just tired is all. It's been a long day."
"No need to be sorry, I see what you've been busy with. I'm just glad to know you're ok." Jansen said, smiling as he patted her lightly on her back.
"I appreciate you checking up on me," Guliwe said, turning to face Jansen. "You finally off duty too? Or do you have to go back on patrol soon?" she said, a bit of hopefulness in her voice as she asked.
"Yep," Jansen said as he unslung his rifle, leaned it against the bench they were sitting on, and took his combat pack off his back. "So, you hungry?" he asked, unzipping his pack, and reaching inside.
"What you got?"
"Well, I stopped by one of the field kitchens set up by the Zulu soldiers just across the Phase Line." He said, pulling out two styrofoam carry out trays, one of which he lay next to his rifle, the other he handed to Guliwe, who seemed to perk up slightly as she took it in her hands. "Roasted pig with ujege, two mobolo plums, and some rice. Asked one of your friends what you normally eat and he recommended this to me. Hope you like it!"
Guliwe's eyes went wide, and her once sour expression on her face turned brighter, and actually formed the beginning of a smile. As she opened the tray, the delicious aroma of the meal hit her nostrils, and made her stomach growl very loudly. She sat the tray down next to her, and practically lept towards Jansen, wrapping him up in a tight, appreciative hug.
"Thank you, Eric!" she said sincerely as she hugged him. Jansen wasted no time in reciprocating the gesture, not caring about how dirty and bloody her uniform was. "Seriously, I really appreciate it. This day's just been an absolute nightmare for us. Back and forth, back and forth, inserting IV's, applying medgel until we ran out, listening to the screams of wounded men and women, many we could do nothing to ease the pain of." she gave another tired sigh, before picking up her tray, grabbing the utensils, and began to dig into her very late lunch.
"Believe me, I know," He replied as he took a bite of his food. "Passed by the bodies on the way here, and the wounded that were being flown out. Today was a goddamn mess."
"A lot more than a mess," She replied through a mouthful of roasted pork. "It's a damn bloody nightmare is what it is! We already taxed our medical facilities with the wounded civilians we recovered when we got here. Triage became a bitch and half with all the burn victims we ran out of burn gel, the hospital ships were overloaded, we can't move all the wounded, we can't evacuate the dead, it's just..." Guliwe paused, swallowing her food, and repeatedly stabbing her pork aimlessly.
"Horrible," Jansen finished. "No other way to put it, it's just horrible. Shitty situation all around." Jansen said as he started at his own food. The two of them said nothing for a few minutes as they enjoyed their meal, doing their best to ignore the sounds and smells of the morning's horror that the medical teams were still trying to handle. In the skies above them, the roaring of jet engines and helicopter blades roared overhead, heading northward as they shook the ground beneath them. But what made the two of them jump and reach for their rifles was the sound of cruise missiles soaring overhead.
"Relax you two, we ain't under attack," came the voice of a man with a distinctive Zulu accent. Standing before the two soldiers was a Zulu Army Major, his uniform also covered in blood, mud, and very obvious wear and tear all over. The two attempted to stand up in reflex, but the man just put his hand out, halting the two of them. "All that is meant for the Imperial Capital up north. You two stay seated, I won't bother you two for very long."
"Is there something I can do for you, sir?" Guliwe stammered out, wide eyed at her commanding officer standing before her.
"Actually, I think I can help you," The Major replied, reaching into his pocket, and pulled out a napkin, which he used to wipe the blood from his hands. He then used his clean hand to reach into his other pocket, and pulled out the rank insignia of a Lance Corporal. "You did fine work out there today, Lance Corporal Guliwe!" he said, putting emphasis on her new rank.
"T-thank your sir!" she stammered out, standing up straight to the position of attention and rendered a salute, a gesture the Major quickly returned, before motioning for her to sit back down.
"You earned it," he replied, handing her the new insignia. "I've also put in a recommendation to command that you to be awarded the Medical Service Cross. I expect they'll accept it once they read the report I put in. You saved a lot of lives today, don't you forget that. Now, with that said, I'll make good on my word, and leave you two to your meal." With that, the Major walked off towards another tent, and disappeared past its flaps, getting straight back to work. As he left, Guliwe simply stared at the rank insignia in her hand, part of her still not believing what just happened.
"You should be proud of yourself, Ulwazi, you definitely earned it," Jansen said.
"I am proud, I just didn't expect a promotion is all, much less a promotion and a possible accommodation for just doing my duty." Guliwe replied. "If I'm being honest, I don't feel like I earned it. Not with all those who died, not with all those like me who worked as hard or harder than me. What makes me special?"
"Don't say things like that," It was at that moment Jansen's hand reached out and grasped Guliwe's own, which caused her to turn her head towards him. "You helped keep many of those men alive! You were the one making sure more of ours didn't die! In this day and age you don't just get promoted on the battlefield for doing nothing! You got it because you earned it!"
"I just...I don't know, it's just unexpected is all. I just can't help but think of those who died. What do they get?"
"They won't be forgotten, Guliwe. They'll all be honored for their sacrifice, but that doesn't mean your own shouldn't be either." He said, gripping her hand tighter. "Look at your hands, Guliwe! That's proof enough of all you've done today."
"Thanks, Eric!" she said. "I really do appreciate it, it still feels weird though."
"You'll get used to it. Besides, if nothing else, more rank means more pay." Jansen chuckled, getting a light punch in his arm from Guliwe.
"Asshole," she laughed. "I'm not doing this for money."
"Neither am I, but extra pay doesn't hurt, does it?"
"More money to send back home is a good thing I guess." Guliwe admitted, looking down at her nearly empty food tray, and then over to Jansen's. Smiling, she took her fork, stabbed the dinner roll on his tray, and brought it to her mouth, smiling as she bit into it.
"Hey!" He said in mock anger.
"What?" she said with her mouth full. "I'm still hungry!" Jansen just rolled his eyes at the medic, who just giggled at him in response.
"You could have at least asked." He said, looking down at his now empty food tray, and shaking his head. Again, Guliwe just smiled even wider at him.
"Sorry," she said after swallowing.
"Still hungry, huh?" Jansen asked, standing up, and outstretching his hand to Guliwe, who gladly accepted it.
"Very much so, although I'm in the mood for something different," Guliwe said. "And since I'm now off duty, I do have some time to myself."
"Looks like that makes two of us then." Jansen said. "Well, that restaurant the Americans brought in is still open, if you'd like me to take you. They just got a fresh shipment of supplies in today as a matter of fact. Care to join me?"
"I'd love to!" she replied, walking out of the medical section with him.
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As they both made their way towards the rear lines, they bore witness to the material cost of the battle.
In the vehicle park, tanks, APC's, and trucks bearing massive burn marks sat off together in one area, as mechanics and repairmen assessed the damage. This also included the Boer Republic's D-30 batteries, which had sustained severe wear and tear from the previous battle. The cannons themselves were already old, and combined with the constant firing they were subject to, put them at their limit. The barrels warped and unfit for further use, with one even exploding from overuse during the battle. Another section had the charred and burnt remains of those destroyed during the battle, those that had been pulled off the field at any rate. Quite a few downed helicopters and destroyed tanks still remained where they had been lost.
"God fucking dammit!" a familiar voice cried out from the artillery section, making Jansen snap his head in the direction. "Fucking piece of shit is useless!" the man said, throwing his wrench at the damaged artillery gun he was supposed to be fixing.
"Anders?" Jansen called out to the man, whose gaze shifted over to him.
"Jansen?" the man replied, a wide smile forming across his features. "We thought you were dead, man!" he said as he walked over, and embraced Jansen in a tight hug.
"Can't get rid of me that easily," Jansen chuckled. "How are you and the boys holding up?"
"Well aside from these old pieces of shit," Anders said, gesturing the D-30 batteries that looked as if they'd seen far better days. "Never been better! We brought six of these things over, and most of them are going to be out of commission for a while."
"And we've only got two spare barrels with us to replace the ones that are fucked," another soldier said.
"That bad, Marcus? I knew we put them through hell this morning, but I didn't think it was that bad." Jansen replied.
"Yeah, well the good news is that the rest of our motor pool made it out relatively intact." Marcus said. "Really, we got off lucky compared to some of the other units. A Lot of vics got chewed up at Phase Line Charlie."
"Say, whose your new friend?" Anders asked, turning his attention to Guliwe.
"Lance Corporal Ulwazi Guliwe, 5th Infantry, a pleasure to meet you two." She said, outstretching a hand towards the first of the two men. Anders was the first to take it.
"Corporal James Anders, 1st Boer Artillery." he greeted.
"Sergeant Adrian Marcus, at your service." Marcus said, his eyes darting to the medical armband she wore. "A combat medic, huh? Heard you lot have been busy all damn day after what happened."
"You can say that again," Guliwe said. "I'm just glad it's all over, for now anyway. We've been run ragged all day with all the casualties we took."
"Speaking of casualties, just how many did we take this morning?" Anders asked.
"Over 1,500 dead and wounded is the final count, give or take those that have yet to be recovered from the vehicles." Guliwe replied.
"Jesus," Marcus whistled. "I knew we took some heavy losses today, but that's a lot more than I thought."
"I guarantee you heads are gonna roll somewhere because of this," Anders put in. "Especially since it was all live streamed back home too. What I want to know is how the hell they even got this far in the first place?"
"Easy, we're a stone's throw away from the Imperial capital," Jansen replied. "Maybe 100-200 miles away, easily less than a day's drive away. Makes sense they sent a force to try and dislodge us."
"Kinda reminds me of the original War of the Worlds to me," Marcus said. "How the British threw their best at the Martians, including the Thunderchild, where its appearance temporarily confused the Martians, but ultimately fell to them. I think that's exactly what just happened here."
"Makes sense if you think about it," Guliwe added. "This was their last chance to keep us away from their capital. Now that they've failed, they'll have nothing left to throw at us."
"Nothing worth a damn anyway," Jansen said. "From what we've gathered, that was the bulk of their elite forces and heavy units. The elves said that was most of their capital defense force, so even more of a blow to their army."
As he finished talking, another barrage of cruise missiles from the ships off the coast, one even larger than before, screamed northward towards their target. The missiles were followed shortly after by a squadron of fighters, who were escorting unmanned drones and AEW aircraft. Marcus let out a chuckle.
"They'll have even less by the time the navy is done having their fun with em," Marcus said. "Make it even easier when we make a run for their capital." he said confidently.
"Yeah, let's hope you're right." Jansen said as he watched as the missiles and aircraft disappeared over the horizon. "Last thing we need is any more surprises waiting for us in the capital."
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"...I knew I'd lost a bunch of guys. I said a prayer to God saying, basically, if you need any more guys from my platoon, take me. Don't take anymore of my men..."
Mike Heaney, United States Army, talking about his experiences in the Vietnam War.
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As Logan Walker awoke, he was met with piercing bright light that blinded him. He groaned tiredly, draping an arm over his hurting eyes in an attempt to shield it from the light above. It was then he realized he was laying in a bed, a hospital bed to be specific, and with all sorts of IV's and tubes in his arms. Beeping from a heart monitor was the only sound he heard in the otherwise quiet room. Sighing, he tried to turn over on his side, hoping to get back to sleep, only to feel a sharp pain explode across his abdomen. He couldn't help but yelp out in pain as he jerked back to his previous position, clenching at his stomach, as memories flooded back into his mind.
Memories of recording the battle at Proptor, as Saderan forces pushed relentlessly towards the port city that the UNDF had captured a week prior. How some new, unseen magic abilities had made the Saderan forces damn near invulnerable to their weapons. How he was at the front, recording the battle at the outermost defensive line, when everything went to hell. Even their best and most powerful weapons were almost useless against the new attacking force the Saderans had mustered against them. A force protected by some magic barrier, and lead by a dragon far larger than any they had seen before. When they were forced into a rout, he and his squad were left behind.
That's when he remembered how he ended up here. A large, heavily armored, blonde knight raced towards him, surrounded by a group of Immortals. They hacked down his squad, leaving him the last one standing. He had tried to fight back, but the knight stabbed him straight through the stomach with his sword, which put paid to any hope of resistance. Whoever he was, the look on his face as he yanked the blade from his stomach, made it clear that he was a sadistic bastard.
He couldn't remember much after that though. Sporadic memories of his father, some combat medics, and the face of an elf who knelt next to him. After that, he didn't remember anything. Again, Logan tried to lean forward, and sit up, only to feel the pain intensify once more.
"Careful!" He heard a woman's voice call out to him, as he felt a pair of arms grab his shoulders, and easing him back down onto the bed. "You aren't able to get up yet!" She said to him.
Looking over to the source of the voice, Logan was met by the face of a beautiful woman. An elven woman. The same elf he had remembered from that night atop the hill. He remembered how her body glowed a bright blue as she placed her hands over his wounded stomach. How she had managed to heal his wounds, and prevented him from bleeding out in this godforsaken land, he didn't know.
"What is your name?" Logan asked.
"Tuka Luna Marceau," the elf replied. "How do you feel, Logan? Do you remember what happened?"
"I remember being stabbed. I remember everything getting colder, hearing my father's voice, screaming, cursing, and then you." Logan answered, running his eyes up and down the blonde haired elf. "You saved my life out there, Tuka. Thank you!"
"You're welcome!" Tuka said with a warm smile as she reached out and grasped his hand lightly. "It was the least I could do after everything that has happened."
The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, not saying anything. But when both began to try and speak, another voice cut in and interrupted them.
"Mr Walker is awake now," A nurse said, standing halfway in the doorway and looking out in the hallway. Not a moment after she said those words, a number of uniformed men hurried into the room, including Logan's father, and his team. All of them sported worried looks on their faces as they flooded into the room, Logan's father chief among them. His already graying hair had become even grayer. His usual old, tired expression, one gained from decades of experience, and being a veteran of the First Contact War, looked even worse than it usually did. However, that old, tired expression Elias held on his face, evaporated into one of pure joy and relief as he lunged towards his son's hospital bed, and embraced his son tightly.
"Careful, he's still in recovery!" the nurse cautioned, a frown crossing her face as he words went unheeded by the man.
"Told you he'd be alright, Elias," Rourke said, smiling. "Your son's a tough bastard. And anyone who survives a sword through the gut is a tough bastard."
"You got that right," one of the other soldiers said. "Lotta us thought you weren't going to make it through, Loggie."
"Yeah," another soldier began. "But we can't forget those who played a hand in helping him pull through it either." he finished, turning his gaze over to Tuka, who stared back. It wasn't long before the entire room, Elias and Logan included, were staring at the young woman. Tuka's ears twitched and her face grew warm as she found all eyes on her. Her eyes darted to the floor, trying to ignore all the attention now focused on her.
"I-I was only doing my job," she replied hurriedly.
"You did one hell of a good job, if I do say so myself," Logan said, a pleasant smile across his face as he gazed over at her. "Thank you, again."
"Once again, you're welcome." Tuka said again.
"So, is he good to come back with us, doc?" one of Logan's friends asked.
"Well, we still have to keep him under observation," the nurse replied. "But since his wounds have been healed in a manner I don't understand, I see no reason you all can't stay here with him, at least for a little bit longer. I'll go and see if I can't discharge him early, or if the Major wants him to remain here any longer."
"Sounds like a plan, I'll be back as soon as I can." with that, the nurse left the room, leaving Logan and Tuka alone with his friends and family.
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"We were disdainful of them. We overstated their incompetence because we wanted to overstate our importance."
Tom Valley, USMC, on the performance of the ARVN during the Vietnam War.
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50,000 Feet AGL
Skies of the Special Region
April 28th, 2081
Above the city of Rondel
The city of Rondel, by all accounts, was by far the most dangerous place in this new world. It didn't boast that large of a garrison force, or because it was home to massive flame dragons, which it in fact did. Although they were far from what made the city such a high priority. What made Rondel so dangerous was that it was the home to the Empire's mages. Mages with honest to god magic and sorcery, the likes of which only existed in fairy tales, and which the United Nations had few easy counters to. The recent battle at the port city of Proptor made it clear just how powerful that magic could be, if properly utilized. Magic shields that could cover entire armies and shrug off a wholesale bombardment from ground, air, and sea, produced by a small group of individuals, was a great danger to UN forces in the Special Region.
And while the attacking force had been completely destroyed, the Empire had shown an ability that no one could have guessed they had. Granted, the UN also had the help of the High Elves and Dark Elves, with all their own magical abilities, but many had asked what would have happened if they weren't there. The answers weren't good, and they painted a significantly higher number of casualties.
Rondel was the source of that magic, and it needed to be dealt with. So after much deliberation, it was decided to launch a large scale strike on the city, to render its ability to contribute to the war effort, to nothing.
That's where Darkstar Flight came in.
Darkstar Flight's job was fairly simple, scout out the city of Rondel, locating its defences, and pointing out key points and installations for destruction. Destruction which would be brought by the American bombers trailing only a short distance from Darkstar Flight.
At 50,000 feet, the unsuspecting locals on the ground never knew it was there. Inside the operations center at Fort Hadrian, the drone pilots zoomed the camera in around the city, noting points of interest, defensive positions, and likely locations for members of the Defense Corps. Accompanying the drone was Darkstar's 2 and 3, each one using its high sensitivity cameras and electronic surveillance equipment to locate any possible threat within the city itself. At the helm of Darkstar 1, was Jessica Goldfarb, a Flight Lieutenant in the Royal Air Force, and the leader of the Darkstar squadron assigned to scout out Rondel, before the lead American bomber arrived.
"We've got two dragon pens already identified," she said as she relayed the coordinates to the American pilots, who were carrying enough ordinance, nuclear and non-nuclear, aboard their bombers to level a small country. "One Special Region Class A Kaiju in each pen, and several smaller wyvern pens across the city. Thermal readings indicate large numbers of individuals in barracks style buildings near the southeastern portion of the city."
"Roger that mama bird, just let us know when it's clear!" The American said over the radio.
"We've got a large number of individuals moving out from the center of the city," Flight Officer David Cummings said. "I'm magnifying the feed!" as the feed of Darkstar 3 focused on on the center of the city, it revealed a large group of mages surrounding what appeared to be a very large concentration of peasants. Upon closer inspection however, it was soon realized they weren't normal peasants.
"Sweet Christ!" Goldfarb exclaimed as it became apparent just who they were. While their clothing war torn, and they were extremely dirty, they could tell those being escorted in the group were none other than civilians kidnapped from Iceland during the first day of the war. Present among them were a few Icelandic police officers, whose uniforms had been all but destroyed from living in conditions she didn't want to think about. The higher ranking officers in the room frantically began making calls to their superiors, wanting to update them on the change of events.
"Flight Lieutenant, tell the bomber to enter an orbit around the city, but to not drop their ordnance, command has called off the strike!" came an order from Wing Commander Irvine.
"Yes sir," she replied dutifully. "BUFF 1-1, you are to enter an orbit around the city of Rondel and await further instruction! I say again, the strike is called off, acknowledge!" a few seconds went by until she got a reply back.
"Roger that mama bird, shifting to a holding pattern, over!"
Goldfarb threw herself back in her chair as she stared at the screen, watching as the Darkstar's cameras and sensors began counting all the civilians down below. The high resolution optics within the drones were state of the art, and had an extremely long range, capable of discerning the identity of an individual even at a height of 90,000 feet, and with a height ceiling even larger than that. To have the ability to accurately identify and catalog over 1,000 people in such a way would be deemed impossible in the early 21st century. But it was 2081, and technology had come a long way.
When Operation Whirlwind had been authorized in response to the Saderan attack at Proptor, the B-52's were the only aircraft that had the range to reliably hit every major city within the Empire, be able to hit multiple targets on a single mission, and carry enough ordnance to do the same. While they were over a century old, they were still reliable, and were seen as best suited for the mission. However, the mission had changed. There was no way the United Nations could justify a nuclear strike on a city, no matter how dangerous said city is, with over 1,000 kidnapped citizens residing in it. Not when a prior effort to rescue them hadn't been mounted first, something that is sure to happen now.
"Well this just got a whole lot more complicated," Goldfarb said as she ran a hand through her hair, watching as the sensor array continued to count more and more civilians down below, syncing the data from the three drones watching above. "Why the hell are there so many of them this far out there?"
"Might have something to do with the mages trying to learn more about our technology," Cummings said with a shrug. "After all, a lot of teachers went missing, as well as mechanics, doctors, and other people who you'd think would be useful in creating and maintaining a modern civilization. Even police officers, as we can see right there." he said, pointing to the feed. Thanks to genetic profiling, facial recognition, and every other piece of important information you'd expect would be compiled for those missing, for each and every face that Darkstar Flight captured, a separate profile appeared across the screens in the command center.
And there were a lot of names. Icelandic, British, Norwegian, American, Canadian, Russian, Swiss, Australian, Japanese, the list went on and on. While still many of the Icelandic civilians weren't among those down below, or at least as far as they had seen, most of the foreign nationals captured in Reykjavik, were among them. No, levelling the city and any target within wasn't possible any longer.
"1,200 and counting, sir," Goldfarb said, watching as the numbers kept increasing. "Orders sir?" she asked, turning to Wing Commander Irvine, who was speaking into a headset with those higher up the chain than him. He glanced over at her for a few moments, still speaking to whomever was on the other end. He acknowledged her query, but said nothing in reply. He didn't know what to do, at least not entirely. The minutes passed by in the operations center as Irvine spoke with those on the other end, which soon turned into ten, then twenty, and then thirty. The live feed was streamed not only to those in other ops centers around the base, but even back through Alpha Point to Geneva.
Delegates and commanders from every nation, and chiefly from those whose citizens were now confirmed alive and imprisoned by the Saderans, argued fiercely about what steps to take next.
"Yes sir, understood sir! We will-" Irvine said into the head set, before being interrupted by one of the operators calling out in warning.
"Enemy contact on approach!" the camera operator of Darkstar 2 called out, as they panned their camera over to the rapidly approaching contact. "Visual contact confirmed, one Class B Special Region Kaiju, rapidly approaching BUFF 1-1 at a distance of three kilometers, and closing at approximately 550 kilometers per hour!" he informed.
"DO NOT ENGAGE!" Irvine snapped towards the drone operators. "Do you hear me? Tell the escorts not to fire on that wyvern! Do not do anything to endanger the civilians down there!" he ordered.
"Yes sir!" Goldfarb responded. "Lightning Flight, do not engage the wyverns, I repeat, do not engage!"
"Lightning Lead copies, Momma Bird!" Lightning Lead replied, his voice booming over the speakers in the room. "Are we clear to engage if the wyvern turns hostile?"
"Yes they are," Irvine said. "Just tell them to keep a distance from the wyvern, and do nothing to antagonize them."
"Did you hear that, Lightning Lead?" Goldfarb said through her headset.
"Solid copy!" the pilot said with a sigh.
On the radar screen showing the battle space above the city, the escorting fighters on both flanks, symbolized by blue dots, pulled back. Meanwhile, a red dot, symbolizing the wyvern on approach, steadily grew closer. Before long, the rider and his mount, both of which were glowing with a light bluish-green hue, had finally caught up with its intended target. The lead B-52 bomber trailing behind Darkstar Flight, was where the rider flew towards. The man, wearing some type of robe, and not carrying any type of weapon, simply flew alongside the bomber, slack jawed and wide eyed. Darkstar 3, which was closest to BUFF 1-1, was situated in just the right position relative to the bomber, was able to aim its camera directly at the man.
The high resolution camera caught every slight wrinkle and twitch on the man's face. His expression off pure shock and terror was very plain, and no one could mistake it for anything but. His teeth chattered and lips quivered. Despite the bone chilling cold at the altitude, and his magic aura around his body, beads of sweat rolled down his face. As his wyvern steadily picked up its speed, he was soon, eyeball to eyeball with the pilots aboard the bomber. While Darkstar couldn't see the pilots inside the bomber, they nonetheless gave the wyvern ride a number of obscene gestures for his trouble.
Then, his attention became focused onto Darkstar 3, who was but a few hundred meters away. The long, sleek, dark, and arrow shaped drone made the man's color drain from his face. He yanked hard on the reins of the wyvern, and took a steep dive back down below, darting towards the city of Rondel below. The command center was quiet for a few moments, before the voice of one of the escort pilots broke the silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the smartest Imperial in the world!"
Some light chuckles followed the comment, but as Goldfarb looked back at Wing Commander Irvine, the look on his face was anything but joyous. She understood what he was feeling, and many others felt it too. There were close to 2,000 captured civilians below in the city, and before long, the Imperial garrison within the city would know they were there. Civilians that would be at their mercy, and would undoubtedly be used as living shields. The Saderans may have been unaware of their presence earlier, but they would soon know now.
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Magic Academy
City of Rondel
Inside the walls of the Magic Academy of Rondel, Lelei La Lalena, Arpeggio, and the few other surviving mages who narrowly escaped the massacre at Proptor, had gathered what was left of the master sorcerers, and other assorted combat mages who had since returned to the city, even without permission to do so. The few dozen of them that were left, sat nervously in the room, flinching as the sounds of the explosions outside, and the shaking of the ground from the Otherworlders unholy bombardment of their city, made them wonder if they were next.
"So that's it...they're all dead?" Chida El Fumma said, looking over at Lelei and Arpeggio with an expression of pure defeat and dread. A look shared by the majority of those in the room. "What are we going to do now?"
"We lost Grand Mage Godasen, we lost Grand Masters Cato and Mimoza, and now so many of my students." said the once assistant to Cato and Mimoza, and now the highest ranked master at the Academy. In all her years, Treina La Alnis never thought she'd ever be the Headmaster at the Magic Academy of Rondel. If the circumstances had been different, she'd be absolutely ecstatic. But right now, she felt nothing but pure sorrow and pain in her heart. Her best friends were now dead, some of the brightest and best students she trained, killed in another of the Empire's useless wars. So many lives, so much potential, gone with but a single man's orders. "All because of Molt and his damned appetite for more land!" she bit out.
"An appetite which will bring a force to our doorstep so powerful, we can't hope to face them." Lelei said, as serious as the girl always was. But her deadpanned and grim words only served to worsen the mood in the room.
"I don't know what we can do to stop them." said one of her fellow mages and survivors of the failed assault on Proptor.
"We can't," another survivor added. "We were the finest mages in the world, and look how they decimated us!" the man said through gritted teeth.
"If these 'United Nations' are as powerful as you all say, I don't see what we can do to stop them." said the head of the Rondel Security Council. "So what does that leave us?"
"I don't see what options we have aside from surrender, Tornam." Arpeggio said, looking over at the dwarven man with a scowl on her face. Not aimed at the Head of Security, it was just an expression she'd kept since she narrowly survived the carnage at Proptor. "If we fight them, we'll be massacred."
"But if we make any notion of trying to surrender, the Emperor may seek retribution against us!" Tornam argued. "The Imperial Barracks in the southeast will mobilize and attack the city if they get wind of us surrendering! But...I don't want to keep fighting at all. I already lost my son, I don't want to lose my wife and daughter too."
"You're not the only one whose lost family you know." said another of the survivors from the Proptor massacre. But before Tornam could make a retort, Arpeggio slammed her hand down on the table.
"Now isn't the time for us to be fighting among ourselves!" she growled. "We have to figure out what we're going to do. We need to come up with a plan."
"The question is how long do we have?" Treina asked, right as the door flew open, and a wide eyed and panting scoutsman burst into the room.
"The...the..." he panted out, pausing to catch his breath.
"Easy son, what's going on?" Tornam said, getting up from his seat, walking over to the young man, and guided him to an empty seat in the room. "Catch your breath, and tell us what's going on." The scoutman merely nodded and panted heavily for another minute, before speaking.
"The otherworlders, sir! Their giant metal birds were seen flying above the city! They've been circling like scavengers for an hour by now!"
"What!" Nearly the whole room said at once, fresh worry and fear on their faces as they heard the news.
"They've been above us for how long?" Arpeggio choked out.
"One of our sentries thought it an illusion, but soon realized that something was above the city. When they dispatched a wyvern rider to investigate, he managed to get close enough to the metal bird to confirm that it was just that."
"He managed to get close enough to see it? They didn't attack him?" Lelei asked skeptically.
"No, they didn't, and that was what was concerning. They seemed to actively avoid our wyvern scouts when they got closer to their birds." Everyone in the room, especially those who had fought against the otherworlders, looked at each other in bewilderment. "But the expressions and gestures they gave him were not in any way friendly however. But that's not the only thing I have to tell you."
"What else is there?" Arpeggio asked, half dreading the answer.
"We have a few fae among the otherworlders at the otherworlder fort at Alnus Hill. They report that many of the demihuman auxiliary have joined the otherworlders against the Empire. And while they express no regret in doing so, their own connections with our fae scouts allowed them to send us a very important message to us." the scoutsman paused, his face going pale as he remembered what he had been told.
"What did they say, lad?" Tornam asked.
"I don't exactly know what they were talking about, but it terrifies me. They said that the otherworlders loaded their flying birds with weapons called 'City Destroyers'."
Lelei, Arpeggio, and the rest of the mages present, who were privy to information about the otherworlds and their capabilities, looked at the scout in abject horror, while Alnis and Tornam looked bewildered, not having been told about just exactly what the otherworlders had at their disposal. The silence in the room was deafening, as no one knew what to say in reply. The silence dragged on for a half a minute before one of the survivors of the massacre at Proptor, burst into scared and ugly sobbing.
"I don't want to die!" they sobbed.
"we're doomed," another said. "They followed us here from Proptor, and now the whole city will suffer for it."
"What are we going to do?" a third asked.
"We can't fight them," Lelei said, her usual passive expression turned to one of dismay. "I know you are concerned over the Imperial garrison within and around the city, Tornam, but if the spies are correct, it won't matter in the end. If we don't surrender to the otherworlders, we will be wiped from the face of the continent. We can deal with the legionaries here however, and we must."
"And how do you propose we do that? Our defense corps won't stand a chance against the flame dragons the Emperor has put here to keep us in line."
"The flame dragons will only turn against us if their handlers give the order and stir the beasts from their slumber." one of the other mages said. "If we can kill them, or at least incapacitate them, they won't be able to order them against us."
"As for the legionaries and other Imperials around the city, me and others like me who possess the ability to use spirit magic, can put them all to sleep." added one of the few elven mages present. "Once done, that should give the defense corps enough time to round them up, take their weapons, and lock them away."
"That's not liable to work against The Immortals though," Arpeggio added. "We might be forced to fight them directly."
"We can win," Lelei said confidently. "We know how they operate, we helped create them. We know their strengths and weaknesses both. It won't be too difficult."
"And there's not that many of them here either." Alnis added. "When the war began, most went off to Alnus Hill to fight. None of them ever came back."
"Indeed, which makes our job much easier." Lelei replied. "So are we all in agreement, then? We make preparations now, and kick out the Imperial occupiers."
"But what about the otherworlders!" Tornam said. "You said if we don't surrender to them, we'll all be destroyed, but how exactly do you propose to surrender to them in the first place? They don't even have an army outside our gates? Just metal birds of death circling our great city!" Tornam's look of confusion only grew deeper as Lelei's face sported a wide, and slightly maniacal grin across it.
"Don't you worry about that, I have a plan to get a message to them." she replied, before turning back to the scoutsman. "Are the wyvern scouts ready to fly once more? We require them if we are to pull this off." At the request, the young lad jumped to his feet and rapidly nodded his head.
"Y-yes ma'am, they are awaiting orders on what to do next."
"Good," Lelei said. "Now listen carefully, and do exactly as I say!"
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Inside the Command Center at Fort Hadrian, everyone who was watching the drone feeds from Darkstar Flight had expected a massacre of the prisoners being held down below. It was expected that once the wyvern got back down to report what it saw, every last citizen kidnapped from Iceland, would be put to the sword. But what was coming across their camera feeds, was something they never expected. In the large dragon pens, which held the flame dragons, robed figures began sneaking in and around the building, slicing the throats of the guards outside of them. Infrared and electromagnetic sensors picked up heightened readings inside the buildings for a few minutes, then it all ceased. Then, more robed figures began approaching the barracks and living area for the legion that was stationed in the city.
Everyone in the room watched with amazement as the patrolling legionaries began to drop one after the other. The few that saw what was occurring had no time to react before they too had succumbed to whatever was spreading amongst their ranks. Once the last one had finally dropped, dozens of robed figures began to materialize from nearby buildings, disarmed the legionaries, and began dragging them inside the barracks. Inside the barracks housing the Immortals, blue and green bolts of energy slammed into them from all sides, killing the Immortals standing watch, and setting the barracks aflame.
Some of the Immortals ran out, weapons at the ready, looking for whoever dared attack them, but just like the legionaries, they stood no chance. Magic bolts tore through them like a hot knife through butter, and in less than a minute, there was no more movement from the building.
To the point of view of everyone watching, it was as if the local mages had staged an open revolt against the Imperial garrison there, and had won. Not only that, but the dragon and wyvern pens were showing no activity, and there wasn't a single Imperial troop left standing. It was an amazing sight, and most of those in the room wondered just why they had done that.
But the answer would soon become obvious as one by one, the robed figures standing in the streets or on the rooftops, began gazing up in the sky. Some nowhere near Darkstar Flight and the bombers and escorts with it, others appearing to be looking directly into the cameras themselves. Then, a group of wyverns began to take flight, large white flags draped across the creatures tails, and they began circling the city. Before long, other white flags began to be hoisted across rooftops all over the city, in every corner, and tall building. Even the vaunted magic academy had taken down the Saderan flag it held, and replaced it with a flag of truce.
"They're surrendering," Goldfarb muttered incredulously. "They're actually bloody surrendering. And we didn't even fire a shot."
"I don't fucking believe it." Cummings said, his eyes wide in astonishment, as a wide grin grew across his face. "We aren't even gonna have to fight the bloody bastards! They've already thrown in the towel!"
"Is everyone else seeing this?" Lightning Lead said over the comm channel, clearly as surprised as everyone else.
"Looks like it, Lightning Lead. Looks like we won't be needed over here, but I'll be damned if I complain." BUFF 1-1's pilot added.
Everyone in the room breathed a collective sigh of relief at what they were witnessing. No more innocent lives would be lost, and no blood spilled, at least not here. It actually made some of them happy, happy that they wouldn't get a first class seat to a massacre in the making.
"Lightning 2-5 here, anyone else see what I'm seeing down there? Just want to make sure I'm not going blind here." the pilot said, jolting everyone back to the task at hand.
There was indeed something new for them to take notice of, something that made them do a double take before realizing what they were seeing was real. In the center of the city, standing atop a large building, stood a blue haired girl wielding a large staff. Around her, stood a group of mages, and they all joined her in projecting a message into the air, hovering above them, and large enough for it to be read well enough for the drones above. In large blue and green letters, read the following message;
We do not wish to continue this useless war against your peoples and wish to surrender. We were drawn into this war against our will and seek to make peace with the United Nations of Earth. Spare our city from your City Destroying weapons, and we will offer no further resistance against your armies here or anywhere else in Falmart. We do not wish to continue Emperor Molt's useless war and suffer for it. Please, spare our city, we will accept your terms for surrender, and turn over the Imperials we have within our city, as well as control of the flame dragons, to your armies. We beg you, do not destroy our city.
Mauna Kea Observatory
April 26th, 2081
"So what are we looking at here?" Elias Drucker said as he studied the most recent photographs from the Deep Space Defense Network. Satellites of the United Nations Space Defense Initiative, had captured these photographs' mere hours ago. These same photos that had sent Space Defense Analysts and military officers from around the world in a frenzy since they were transmitted to their headquarters in Houston, Texas. Even after hours of studying thermal, infrared, and spectroscopic imagery, there was no denying what they were looking at. Even after hoping and praying that it was a mistake, or some type of natural phenomena, the results weren't wrong.
"There's no denying it," Sarah Yeager said grimly, passing a photo off to Drucker, one with a far more detailed analysis. "Thirty two satellites and fifteen ground based observatories are showing the same thing. Massive thermal trails behind what are obviously objects of mechanical nature. All indications point towards this being craft propelled by a type of fusion drive, and from what we can see so far, almost 100 objects have been independently verified by our satellites." She watched as everyone in the room processed what she had just told them, and what they were seeing as the screen at the end of the room.
"As of this moment, we have no idea who they belong to, but they are far slower, and use obviously different propulsion methods than our old enemy. While we've yet to achieve a clear and precise photography of what they look like, they aren't anything we are familiar with." Came the voice of Adam Larssen, one of the Initiative's head researchers. "While our computers are still running simulations, estimates say that at their current speed, they won't reach the outer edges of our solar system for another ten years."
As he said that, military officers all around the room pulled out phones and began conversations with unknown personnel on the other side. More than a few of the researchers were obviously nervous, and it showed on their faces, and the way some of them jittered in place. Officers from every nuclear power and space capable nation were locked in conversation with their superiors over these developments, some doing little better to hide their feelings than the researchers. The war with the Phauthi was in living memory, and currently the United Nations was already engaged in yet another war, in another world. Having a third force of extraterrestrials approaching Earth, with another large fleet? There was no better way for the old scars and memories of the past to be dredged up, and thrown back in Humanity's face.
"Where are they coming from?" Asked an Officer of Indian Navy, drawing nods of agreement from others in the room. Larssen waited a few seconds before giving his answer.
"While we haven't been able to narrow down exactly where they came from, our current analysis shows that due to the alignment of nearby stars, the historic positioning of our interstellar neighborhood, the speed at which these craft are travelling at, they have likely come from the direction of the Constellation Cetus, and the closest planet in that constellation, Tau Ceti, is situated just under 12 light years from Earth." Larssen clarified. "While there is still much research to be done, the most likely candidate planet is Tau Ceti. How we never caught wind of a civilization inhabiting the system, we don't know."
"Assuming they are even from Tau Ceti in the first place." Drucker said. "The Tau Ceti system is low in iron, as well as other vital elements and metals that would be key for a civilization to arise there. Not to mention the star itself is older than our own, so that raises further questions about the validity of these new aliens being from a star of such composition, and such close distance to us."
"But you can't deny the obvious, Elias," Mathew Zinn argued. "All our computer simulations, analyzation of star charts, and the historical orbit of every star in the path of this fleet, point to it originating from that star system. While I'm just as baffled as you are about this, we can't stick our heads in the sand over this."
"I'm not denying what this is, but there's so much that doesn't make sense about this! How can it be coming from Tau Ceti of all places!" Drucker asked.
"We believe we may be able to help with that," a new voice said from behind them." As everyone in the room turned to face the voice, they were met with the sight of half a dozen men and women, dressed in sharp black and white suits. Behind them, were twice as many soldiers, wearing dark blue berets, escorting them in.
"And who might you people be?" Drucker asked.
"People who have information that will help you to determine the origin of these spacecraft." The lead suit said. "While your models seem to be correct, there's a lot more to this than you realize. Please, take a seat, this will take some time to explain properly."
"I'm not sure what else there is to explain here," Yeager answered. "There's another fleet of alien starships on approach to Earth, a fleet mind you, that's approaching Earth less than a century after the War of First Contact began."
"One that's far different than the Phauthi as far as we can tell, and is approaching from an entirely different vector of arrival." Larssen added, whose gears began turning in his head at the realization hit him like a grain of sand at 99% light speed. "What a minute, do you mean to tell us you've known about this?"
"Yes and no." one of the suits answered quickly. "But when this came to our attention, it made some other pieces of information we have, make a lot more sense."
"What kind of information?" Drucker probed. After he asked the question, the soldiers that came with them, closed and locked the door, with half a dozen of the soldiers staying outside, to make sure they weren't disturbed.
"Information that isn't to leave this room." Another suit said, looking behind himself at the now locked door, before turning back to those in the room. "Now, let us explain what we know, and how it pertains to what you've discovered."
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As the images from what was occurring in Proptor came across the TV screens all across Fort Hadrian, thousands of UN soldiers, marines, and sailors, could only watch in wide eyed horror and astonishment at what they were witnessing. An army was marching on the UN positions outside the port city of Proptor, which had been captured not even a week ago. Thousands of Immortals, dozens of Ogres, an assortment of Mages, and at least a hundred wyverns, were slowly making their way towards the city. A large, blueish-white shield was cast over the approaching army
A Flame Dragon, far larger than any that had been encountered to date, was bearing down on the UN Positions in and around the port city of Proptor. And that wasn't even the worst part about what they were witnessing. No matter what the troops on the ground, aircraft in the sky, or ships at sea threw at it, the beast wasn't slowing down in any fashion. A bright aura surrounded the creature, keeping it safe from unholy barrage set upon it by United Nations Forces. What made the situation even worse was that the army accompanying the Dragon had the exact same barrier over it, rendering them untouchable to anything being thrown at them. Bright flashes of light erupted from just behind them, followed by arcs of lightning shooting up into the sky, and hitting a number of helicopters flying over. Some of them even went down, engulfed in blue flame, before slamming into the ground.
They watched as the army marched forward, unimpeded by the UN assault, and finally reached the outer defensive perimeter. The hill became engulfed in flames as the Flame Dragon torched anything and everything in its path sending hundreds of UN soldiers and marines fleeing for their lives, and burning scores of them alive. Soft skinned vehicles rolled down the hill, covered in flames that melted through the thin armor and composite materials of its construction. Most rolled down aimlessly, their occupants having been burned to death, but some were still obviously being controlled by drivers, who tried to veer out of the path of the Flame Dragon's wrath, as well as their fellow soldiers.
Some of the heavier vehicles, those that weren't destroyed atop the hill by either the Dragon, or the Mages accompanying the army, desperately tried to cover the retreat of their comrades. A Mexican Abrams, that fled not to far behind its colleagues, still fired at the Dragon, hoping to draw its attention off the vulnerable infantry on the ground. The tactic worked, although a bit too well as the assortment of Mages focused their power on it. A dozen bolts of blue energy slammed into it, piercing the armor, and sending the turret flying off into the sky as the ammunition compartment erupted into flame.
"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Master Sergeant Davids exclaimed as he stared slack jawed at the TV inside the planning room. His feelings and reactions weren't that much different than all the other team leaders present in the room. The room erupted into agitated conversation between the various squad leaders in the room, all of them just as baffled as the rest over this new development.
The news feed soon shifted to a combat cameraman who was among those trying to flee from the onslaught of Saderan forces. While his camera feed was shaky, there was mistaking the sheer chaos and pandemonium occurring at the UN lines. It wasn't long before the cameramen themselves were overrun, as Immortals rushed into the frame of the camera, cutting down the squad of soldiers assigned to protect the com cam. Then, a new combatant entered the frame, right as the camera was dropped, clattering to the ground, and just the right angle to show the combat cameraman drawing his pistol at the new foe.
The soldier fired at the knight rushing towards him, but it was to no avail. The knight dashed forward, and plunged the sword directly into the soldier's stomach. The soldier coughed out blood as the knight pulled him in closer, impaling him even further on the blade. The soldier collapsed, blood pouring from his mouth, and soaking his uniform where the sword had pierced. The same knight who had impaled the soldier, looked over at the camera, and began walking towards it. He titled it up, staring into the lens for a few seconds, a maniacal grin plastered across his face. The blonde haired man let out a laugh that sent a chill running down the spine of many of those watching the live feed. He then threw the camera aside, and continued on with his mission. Right before the live feed was dropped, those in the room got a good look at the combat cameraman, laying on the ground, unable to move, and his eyes wide in terror and pain.
It was at that moment that the feed was cut, and shifted to a different angle of the battlefield, specifically from a camera crew well behind the front, within the Port city itself.
"How the fuck is this happening?" Lieutenant Jack Mitchell asked to no one in particular, as he watched the scene unfolding on the viewscreen. He wondered how something like this was even possible. Sure, they had magic and dragons, but they had previously encountered, and beaten them. They thought they faced the bulk of the Imperium's elite and most powerful forces at Alnus, with whatever it had left scattered across the continent. Now, here they were, with a force far more powerful than they had ever arrayed on the field against the UN. A dragon, the size of which dwarfed the mother they killed atop Alnus, leading a new army marching upon Proptor. Mages who had enough power to place a literal energy shield over an army of thousands of Immortals, and a wide assortment of ogres, and other monstrosities, stood arrayed against UN forces in heated battle.
Outside, the roar of jet engines could be heard as bombers and fighters both began taking off, heading towards the Port of Proptor. Bombers and fighters that were loaded down with the most powerful ordinance they could carry, hoping it would be enough to end the carnage at Proptor.
"And here we thought we had faced the best the Saderans had to throw at us," Captain Giovanni De Luca said with a sigh. "We were wrong, and now thousands of our men are paying the price for it."
"There's no way we could have known they'd be capable of this!" First Lieutenant Gerhard Weber said solemnly.
"Quite a bit in that regard it seems," Captain Rajiv Singh replied, pointing at the TV screen in front of them. The image of the giant flame dragon stampeding over UN positions was proof enough of that. It was a sight that hurt those watching. Knowing they couldn't do anything about it, hurt even more. "One of my friends on the flightline says they're loading nuclear ordinance onto fighters heading for the city. Comm channel keeps saying they're trying to evacuate what they can from the city just in case they breach the second phase line."
"This has turned into a grade A clusterfuck," Captain Gideon said with an angry sigh. "Barely a week and it looks as if we might actually lose. Makes me wonder what other surprises these bastards might pull from their sleeves."
"It seems we have some surprises of our own, look!" Davids said, pointing back at the TV screen. As everyone turned to face it, they got a close up view of elves fighting alongside UN soldiers on Phase Line Bravo. Those in the planning room stared in awe as they conjured up lightning from seemingly thin air, which they shot up towards the dragon. That same lightning, upon contact with the glistening barrier the mages had put up around the dragon, and by extension the army it was leading, broke holes in it. The room stayed silent as UN troops directed the elves to focus their magic on the head and neck of the beast, allowing soldiers with anti tank missiles to target the gaps made by the elves magic.
Multiple rockets hit home on its neck, making the dragon flinch back in pain, and stare down at the source of the attack. But right as it got ready to unleash its flaming breath upon the nuisance it saw before it, a blinding bright light erupted atop the dragon, as well as the entire army marching on Proptor. When the light dissipated, the aura that had previously shielded not only the dragon, but the entire Saderan force, was now gone. Within moments of the protective barrier falling, all hell broke loose upon the Saderan formation.
The feed switched to another live feed present at Proptor, showing naval gunfire from just off the coast, a combination of railguns and anti ship missiles streaking out from the sea, and impacting the dragon. Aircraft high in the sky rained down fire on the army beneath it. On top of, in front of, behind, and all along the sides, bombs and guided munitions pounded the Saderan forces without mercy. The once mighty dragon that had but moments earlier threatened to overrun and destroy UN forces at Proptor, was torn to bloody ribbons from naval gunfire from ships directly off the coast. From above, a flight of B-52 bombers dropped Massive Ordnance Penetrators and other heavy penetrating explosives meant to rip through the dragon's tough scales.
Within minutes, the tide of the battle had turned from a slow grinding loss for United Nations Forces, to a wholesale slaughter as Naval and Air artillery tor through the previously invincible ranks of Imperial troops marching upon them. In the relatively short time the battle had waged, it swung violently from the United Nations being put on the backfoot by the most powerful force the Saderans had ever assembled, to UN forces regaining momentum, and obliterating the Saderan force that had come so close to tossing them out of the port city. However, it was thanks to the abilities of the various demihumans assembled on the field, that the line had managed to hold, and the Flame Dragon bearing down on UN forces, was able to be defeated. Their unique abilities, combined with the later known fact that the Saderan mages had become nearly exhausted from the United Nations bombardment, allowed the United Nations Defense Force to hold onto Proptor, and defeat the army arrayed against them. An army which up to that point was the most powerful ever assembled against them.
It was on that day that the demihumans had not only proved themselves to the United Nations, but had also gained their trust. Trust that would go a long way when the war was finally over.
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Port City of Proptor
Between Phase Line Bravo and Phase Line Charlie
April 26th, 2081
1630 Hours
The smell of burning flesh permeated in the air as Corporal Alex Jansen walked along the charred grounds between Phase Line Bravo and Phase Line Charlie, taking in the sight of destroyed and wrecked vehicles, charred bodied, and the mutilated corpse of the Flame Dragon that was left sprawled across the ground. Its body was a reminder to him and everyone else still alive in Proptor, of the damage the morning's battle had been. Nearly 1000 troops were killed, with half that number wounded, dozens of vehicles were destroyed or damaged beyond repair, and seven helicopters had been shot down during the course of the battle. Many of them had a hard time believing it was possible, yet it happened. After the Battle of Alnus Hill, it was thought that they had faced the best the Saderans could offer, but they were wrong.
It was a lesson for everyone to not get complacent, not to get sloppy. But at the same time, there wasn't anyone who could have predicted what happened. After all, if they had that power, why didn't they use it the moment they invaded Iceland? Or when the UN took control of Alpha and Bravo Point? In the end, it didn't matter. The Saderans struck with everything they had left to throw at the United Nations, hoping to dislodge them from the city. In the end it failed, but they had made the UN bleed, and made them pause to reevaluate the situation. Before Jansen could think about it any further, his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of shouting off to his left.
The vast majority of the wounded UN troops had suffered severe burns when their positions were overrun by the Flame Dragon. Medics on the ground had been nearly overwhelmed by the amount of third degree burns which the wounded were suffering from, and the logistics for treating them had been just as strained. Helicopter blades and VTOL engines roared overhead as flights to evacuate the wounded had been ongoing ever since the battle had ended earlier in the morning. It had been a rush to offload the wounded onto the mercy ships, and quickly transport them back through Bravo Point, which still carried on even into the afternoon.
"Move Move Move!" shouted a medic who brushed past Jansen, who was unaware of the stretcher team coming up behind him. He watched as a group of two medics ran past him, carrying a badly burned American soldier on the stretcher, and onto a waiting helicopter. Once they offloaded the wounded soldier, they sprinted from the helicopter, and went to yet another stretcher. As Jansen looked on, he saw over a dozen helicopters and VTOL transports were lined up along a makeshift runway, loading up all the wounded they could, and heading back out to the ships off the coast.
It was at this moment he realized just what he was doing. He was trying to find Private Guliwe after the chaos of the early morning battle, to make sure she was alright. He knew she was in the same Phase Line as he was, but that didn't stop some of the Immortals from managing to breach their lines and wreak havoc. When the fighting had finally ended, the various medics took care of the wounded, and infantry like him set out to retake the outer perimeter. Now that he was relieved by a newly arrived force of Boer Airborne flown in, Jansen was now free to find his friend.
As he walked up to the medical section of the outer perimeter, he couldn't help but stare at the hundreds of body bags that littered the ground, with soldiers all around to keep wild animals and scavengers away. So many were killed in so short a time, and most in the most horrific of manners. He shuddered a little at the thought of what they went through in their final moments. As he made his way through past the threshold, and into the encampment proper, he was met with an even more depressing sight. Dozens of medics, covered in blood and viscera, sat outside of medical tents where just as many other medics still worked on those with wounds not as severe as the rest. Some of them had their heads buried in their hands, some were crying, and some just stared off blankly into space. It was a dreadful atmosphere, that much was certain.
He went tent to tent, looking for Guliwe, hoping she was alright, and praying she wasn't among the dead and wounded. Luckily, it didn't take him long to find her, outside a triage tent near the center of the medical section. But as he approached, he noticed she didn't look up from the ground where she held her gaze, even as his shadow loomed over her.
"Hey, Guliwe," Jansen said, sitting down next to her on the bench. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern mounting inside him.
"Oh, hey, Jansen," she said tiredly, looking at him with a very exhausted expression. "Sorry, I'm just tired is all. It's been a long day."
"No need to be sorry, I see what you've been busy with. I'm just glad to know you're ok." Jansen said, smiling as he patted her lightly on her back.
"I appreciate you checking up on me," Guliwe said, turning to face Jansen. "You finally off duty too? Or do you have to go back on patrol soon?" she said, a bit of hopefulness in her voice as she asked.
"Yep," Jansen said as he unslung his rifle, leaned it against the bench they were sitting on, and took his combat pack off his back. "So, you hungry?" he asked, unzipping his pack, and reaching inside.
"What you got?"
"Well, I stopped by one of the field kitchens set up by the Zulu soldiers just across the Phase Line." He said, pulling out two styrofoam carry out trays, one of which he lay next to his rifle, the other he handed to Guliwe, who seemed to perk up slightly as she took it in her hands. "Roasted pig with ujege, two mobolo plums, and some rice. Asked one of your friends what you normally eat and he recommended this to me. Hope you like it!"
Guliwe's eyes went wide, and her once sour expression on her face turned brighter, and actually formed the beginning of a smile. As she opened the tray, the delicious aroma of the meal hit her nostrils, and made her stomach growl very loudly. She sat the tray down next to her, and practically lept towards Jansen, wrapping him up in a tight, appreciative hug.
"Thank you, Eric!" she said sincerely as she hugged him. Jansen wasted no time in reciprocating the gesture, not caring about how dirty and bloody her uniform was. "Seriously, I really appreciate it. This day's just been an absolute nightmare for us. Back and forth, back and forth, inserting IV's, applying medgel until we ran out, listening to the screams of wounded men and women, many we could do nothing to ease the pain of." she gave another tired sigh, before picking up her tray, grabbing the utensils, and began to dig into her very late lunch.
"Believe me, I know," He replied as he took a bite of his food. "Passed by the bodies on the way here, and the wounded that were being flown out. Today was a goddamn mess."
"A lot more than a mess," She replied through a mouthful of roasted pork. "It's a damn bloody nightmare is what it is! We already taxed our medical facilities with the wounded civilians we recovered when we got here. Triage became a bitch and half with all the burn victims we ran out of burn gel, the hospital ships were overloaded, we can't move all the wounded, we can't evacuate the dead, it's just..." Guliwe paused, swallowing her food, and repeatedly stabbing her pork aimlessly.
"Horrible," Jansen finished. "No other way to put it, it's just horrible. Shitty situation all around." Jansen said as he started at his own food. The two of them said nothing for a few minutes as they enjoyed their meal, doing their best to ignore the sounds and smells of the morning's horror that the medical teams were still trying to handle. In the skies above them, the roaring of jet engines and helicopter blades roared overhead, heading northward as they shook the ground beneath them. But what made the two of them jump and reach for their rifles was the sound of cruise missiles soaring overhead.
"Relax you two, we ain't under attack," came the voice of a man with a distinctive Zulu accent. Standing before the two soldiers was a Zulu Army Major, his uniform also covered in blood, mud, and very obvious wear and tear all over. The two attempted to stand up in reflex, but the man just put his hand out, halting the two of them. "All that is meant for the Imperial Capital up north. You two stay seated, I won't bother you two for very long."
"Is there something I can do for you, sir?" Guliwe stammered out, wide eyed at her commanding officer standing before her.
"Actually, I think I can help you," The Major replied, reaching into his pocket, and pulled out a napkin, which he used to wipe the blood from his hands. He then used his clean hand to reach into his other pocket, and pulled out the rank insignia of a Lance Corporal. "You did fine work out there today, Lance Corporal Guliwe!" he said, putting emphasis on her new rank.
"T-thank your sir!" she stammered out, standing up straight to the position of attention and rendered a salute, a gesture the Major quickly returned, before motioning for her to sit back down.
"You earned it," he replied, handing her the new insignia. "I've also put in a recommendation to command that you to be awarded the Medical Service Cross. I expect they'll accept it once they read the report I put in. You saved a lot of lives today, don't you forget that. Now, with that said, I'll make good on my word, and leave you two to your meal." With that, the Major walked off towards another tent, and disappeared past its flaps, getting straight back to work. As he left, Guliwe simply stared at the rank insignia in her hand, part of her still not believing what just happened.
"You should be proud of yourself, Ulwazi, you definitely earned it," Jansen said.
"I am proud, I just didn't expect a promotion is all, much less a promotion and a possible accommodation for just doing my duty." Guliwe replied. "If I'm being honest, I don't feel like I earned it. Not with all those who died, not with all those like me who worked as hard or harder than me. What makes me special?"
"Don't say things like that," It was at that moment Jansen's hand reached out and grasped Guliwe's own, which caused her to turn her head towards him. "You helped keep many of those men alive! You were the one making sure more of ours didn't die! In this day and age you don't just get promoted on the battlefield for doing nothing! You got it because you earned it!"
"I just...I don't know, it's just unexpected is all. I just can't help but think of those who died. What do they get?"
"They won't be forgotten, Guliwe. They'll all be honored for their sacrifice, but that doesn't mean your own shouldn't be either." He said, gripping her hand tighter. "Look at your hands, Guliwe! That's proof enough of all you've done today."
"Thanks, Eric!" she said. "I really do appreciate it, it still feels weird though."
"You'll get used to it. Besides, if nothing else, more rank means more pay." Jansen chuckled, getting a light punch in his arm from Guliwe.
"Asshole," she laughed. "I'm not doing this for money."
"Neither am I, but extra pay doesn't hurt, does it?"
"More money to send back home is a good thing I guess." Guliwe admitted, looking down at her nearly empty food tray, and then over to Jansen's. Smiling, she took her fork, stabbed the dinner roll on his tray, and brought it to her mouth, smiling as she bit into it.
"Hey!" He said in mock anger.
"What?" she said with her mouth full. "I'm still hungry!" Jansen just rolled his eyes at the medic, who just giggled at him in response.
"You could have at least asked." He said, looking down at his now empty food tray, and shaking his head. Again, Guliwe just smiled even wider at him.
"Sorry," she said after swallowing.
"Still hungry, huh?" Jansen asked, standing up, and outstretching his hand to Guliwe, who gladly accepted it.
"Very much so, although I'm in the mood for something different," Guliwe said. "And since I'm now off duty, I do have some time to myself."
"Looks like that makes two of us then." Jansen said. "Well, that restaurant the Americans brought in is still open, if you'd like me to take you. They just got a fresh shipment of supplies in today as a matter of fact. Care to join me?"
"I'd love to!" she replied, walking out of the medical section with him.
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As they both made their way towards the rear lines, they bore witness to the material cost of the battle.
In the vehicle park, tanks, APC's, and trucks bearing massive burn marks sat off together in one area, as mechanics and repairmen assessed the damage. This also included the Boer Republic's D-30 batteries, which had sustained severe wear and tear from the previous battle. The cannons themselves were already old, and combined with the constant firing they were subject to, put them at their limit. The barrels warped and unfit for further use, with one even exploding from overuse during the battle. Another section had the charred and burnt remains of those destroyed during the battle, those that had been pulled off the field at any rate. Quite a few downed helicopters and destroyed tanks still remained where they had been lost.
"God fucking dammit!" a familiar voice cried out from the artillery section, making Jansen snap his head in the direction. "Fucking piece of shit is useless!" the man said, throwing his wrench at the damaged artillery gun he was supposed to be fixing.
"Anders?" Jansen called out to the man, whose gaze shifted over to him.
"Jansen?" the man replied, a wide smile forming across his features. "We thought you were dead, man!" he said as he walked over, and embraced Jansen in a tight hug.
"Can't get rid of me that easily," Jansen chuckled. "How are you and the boys holding up?"
"Well aside from these old pieces of shit," Anders said, gesturing the D-30 batteries that looked as if they'd seen far better days. "Never been better! We brought six of these things over, and most of them are going to be out of commission for a while."
"And we've only got two spare barrels with us to replace the ones that are fucked," another soldier said.
"That bad, Marcus? I knew we put them through hell this morning, but I didn't think it was that bad." Jansen replied.
"Yeah, well the good news is that the rest of our motor pool made it out relatively intact." Marcus said. "Really, we got off lucky compared to some of the other units. A Lot of vics got chewed up at Phase Line Charlie."
"Say, whose your new friend?" Anders asked, turning his attention to Guliwe.
"Lance Corporal Ulwazi Guliwe, 5th Infantry, a pleasure to meet you two." She said, outstretching a hand towards the first of the two men. Anders was the first to take it.
"Corporal James Anders, 1st Boer Artillery." he greeted.
"Sergeant Adrian Marcus, at your service." Marcus said, his eyes darting to the medical armband she wore. "A combat medic, huh? Heard you lot have been busy all damn day after what happened."
"You can say that again," Guliwe said. "I'm just glad it's all over, for now anyway. We've been run ragged all day with all the casualties we took."
"Speaking of casualties, just how many did we take this morning?" Anders asked.
"Over 1,500 dead and wounded is the final count, give or take those that have yet to be recovered from the vehicles." Guliwe replied.
"Jesus," Marcus whistled. "I knew we took some heavy losses today, but that's a lot more than I thought."
"I guarantee you heads are gonna roll somewhere because of this," Anders put in. "Especially since it was all live streamed back home too. What I want to know is how the hell they even got this far in the first place?"
"Easy, we're a stone's throw away from the Imperial capital," Jansen replied. "Maybe 100-200 miles away, easily less than a day's drive away. Makes sense they sent a force to try and dislodge us."
"Kinda reminds me of the original War of the Worlds to me," Marcus said. "How the British threw their best at the Martians, including the Thunderchild, where its appearance temporarily confused the Martians, but ultimately fell to them. I think that's exactly what just happened here."
"Makes sense if you think about it," Guliwe added. "This was their last chance to keep us away from their capital. Now that they've failed, they'll have nothing left to throw at us."
"Nothing worth a damn anyway," Jansen said. "From what we've gathered, that was the bulk of their elite forces and heavy units. The elves said that was most of their capital defense force, so even more of a blow to their army."
As he finished talking, another barrage of cruise missiles from the ships off the coast, one even larger than before, screamed northward towards their target. The missiles were followed shortly after by a squadron of fighters, who were escorting unmanned drones and AEW aircraft. Marcus let out a chuckle.
"They'll have even less by the time the navy is done having their fun with em," Marcus said. "Make it even easier when we make a run for their capital." he said confidently.
"Yeah, let's hope you're right." Jansen said as he watched as the missiles and aircraft disappeared over the horizon. "Last thing we need is any more surprises waiting for us in the capital."
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"...I knew I'd lost a bunch of guys. I said a prayer to God saying, basically, if you need any more guys from my platoon, take me. Don't take anymore of my men..."
Mike Heaney, United States Army, talking about his experiences in the Vietnam War.
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As Logan Walker awoke, he was met with piercing bright light that blinded him. He groaned tiredly, draping an arm over his hurting eyes in an attempt to shield it from the light above. It was then he realized he was laying in a bed, a hospital bed to be specific, and with all sorts of IV's and tubes in his arms. Beeping from a heart monitor was the only sound he heard in the otherwise quiet room. Sighing, he tried to turn over on his side, hoping to get back to sleep, only to feel a sharp pain explode across his abdomen. He couldn't help but yelp out in pain as he jerked back to his previous position, clenching at his stomach, as memories flooded back into his mind.
Memories of recording the battle at Proptor, as Saderan forces pushed relentlessly towards the port city that the UNDF had captured a week prior. How some new, unseen magic abilities had made the Saderan forces damn near invulnerable to their weapons. How he was at the front, recording the battle at the outermost defensive line, when everything went to hell. Even their best and most powerful weapons were almost useless against the new attacking force the Saderans had mustered against them. A force protected by some magic barrier, and lead by a dragon far larger than any they had seen before. When they were forced into a rout, he and his squad were left behind.
That's when he remembered how he ended up here. A large, heavily armored, blonde knight raced towards him, surrounded by a group of Immortals. They hacked down his squad, leaving him the last one standing. He had tried to fight back, but the knight stabbed him straight through the stomach with his sword, which put paid to any hope of resistance. Whoever he was, the look on his face as he yanked the blade from his stomach, made it clear that he was a sadistic bastard.
He couldn't remember much after that though. Sporadic memories of his father, some combat medics, and the face of an elf who knelt next to him. After that, he didn't remember anything. Again, Logan tried to lean forward, and sit up, only to feel the pain intensify once more.
"Careful!" He heard a woman's voice call out to him, as he felt a pair of arms grab his shoulders, and easing him back down onto the bed. "You aren't able to get up yet!" She said to him.
Looking over to the source of the voice, Logan was met by the face of a beautiful woman. An elven woman. The same elf he had remembered from that night atop the hill. He remembered how her body glowed a bright blue as she placed her hands over his wounded stomach. How she had managed to heal his wounds, and prevented him from bleeding out in this godforsaken land, he didn't know.
"What is your name?" Logan asked.
"Tuka Luna Marceau," the elf replied. "How do you feel, Logan? Do you remember what happened?"
"I remember being stabbed. I remember everything getting colder, hearing my father's voice, screaming, cursing, and then you." Logan answered, running his eyes up and down the blonde haired elf. "You saved my life out there, Tuka. Thank you!"
"You're welcome!" Tuka said with a warm smile as she reached out and grasped his hand lightly. "It was the least I could do after everything that has happened."
The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, not saying anything. But when both began to try and speak, another voice cut in and interrupted them.
"Mr Walker is awake now," A nurse said, standing halfway in the doorway and looking out in the hallway. Not a moment after she said those words, a number of uniformed men hurried into the room, including Logan's father, and his team. All of them sported worried looks on their faces as they flooded into the room, Logan's father chief among them. His already graying hair had become even grayer. His usual old, tired expression, one gained from decades of experience, and being a veteran of the First Contact War, looked even worse than it usually did. However, that old, tired expression Elias held on his face, evaporated into one of pure joy and relief as he lunged towards his son's hospital bed, and embraced his son tightly.
"Careful, he's still in recovery!" the nurse cautioned, a frown crossing her face as he words went unheeded by the man.
"Told you he'd be alright, Elias," Rourke said, smiling. "Your son's a tough bastard. And anyone who survives a sword through the gut is a tough bastard."
"You got that right," one of the other soldiers said. "Lotta us thought you weren't going to make it through, Loggie."
"Yeah," another soldier began. "But we can't forget those who played a hand in helping him pull through it either." he finished, turning his gaze over to Tuka, who stared back. It wasn't long before the entire room, Elias and Logan included, were staring at the young woman. Tuka's ears twitched and her face grew warm as she found all eyes on her. Her eyes darted to the floor, trying to ignore all the attention now focused on her.
"I-I was only doing my job," she replied hurriedly.
"You did one hell of a good job, if I do say so myself," Logan said, a pleasant smile across his face as he gazed over at her. "Thank you, again."
"Once again, you're welcome." Tuka said again.
"So, is he good to come back with us, doc?" one of Logan's friends asked.
"Well, we still have to keep him under observation," the nurse replied. "But since his wounds have been healed in a manner I don't understand, I see no reason you all can't stay here with him, at least for a little bit longer. I'll go and see if I can't discharge him early, or if the Major wants him to remain here any longer."
"Sounds like a plan, I'll be back as soon as I can." with that, the nurse left the room, leaving Logan and Tuka alone with his friends and family.
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"We were disdainful of them. We overstated their incompetence because we wanted to overstate our importance."
Tom Valley, USMC, on the performance of the ARVN during the Vietnam War.
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50,000 Feet AGL
Skies of the Special Region
April 28th, 2081
Above the city of Rondel
The city of Rondel, by all accounts, was by far the most dangerous place in this new world. It didn't boast that large of a garrison force, or because it was home to massive flame dragons, which it in fact did. Although they were far from what made the city such a high priority. What made Rondel so dangerous was that it was the home to the Empire's mages. Mages with honest to god magic and sorcery, the likes of which only existed in fairy tales, and which the United Nations had few easy counters to. The recent battle at the port city of Proptor made it clear just how powerful that magic could be, if properly utilized. Magic shields that could cover entire armies and shrug off a wholesale bombardment from ground, air, and sea, produced by a small group of individuals, was a great danger to UN forces in the Special Region.
And while the attacking force had been completely destroyed, the Empire had shown an ability that no one could have guessed they had. Granted, the UN also had the help of the High Elves and Dark Elves, with all their own magical abilities, but many had asked what would have happened if they weren't there. The answers weren't good, and they painted a significantly higher number of casualties.
Rondel was the source of that magic, and it needed to be dealt with. So after much deliberation, it was decided to launch a large scale strike on the city, to render its ability to contribute to the war effort, to nothing.
That's where Darkstar Flight came in.
Darkstar Flight's job was fairly simple, scout out the city of Rondel, locating its defences, and pointing out key points and installations for destruction. Destruction which would be brought by the American bombers trailing only a short distance from Darkstar Flight.
At 50,000 feet, the unsuspecting locals on the ground never knew it was there. Inside the operations center at Fort Hadrian, the drone pilots zoomed the camera in around the city, noting points of interest, defensive positions, and likely locations for members of the Defense Corps. Accompanying the drone was Darkstar's 2 and 3, each one using its high sensitivity cameras and electronic surveillance equipment to locate any possible threat within the city itself. At the helm of Darkstar 1, was Jessica Goldfarb, a Flight Lieutenant in the Royal Air Force, and the leader of the Darkstar squadron assigned to scout out Rondel, before the lead American bomber arrived.
"We've got two dragon pens already identified," she said as she relayed the coordinates to the American pilots, who were carrying enough ordinance, nuclear and non-nuclear, aboard their bombers to level a small country. "One Special Region Class A Kaiju in each pen, and several smaller wyvern pens across the city. Thermal readings indicate large numbers of individuals in barracks style buildings near the southeastern portion of the city."
"Roger that mama bird, just let us know when it's clear!" The American said over the radio.
"We've got a large number of individuals moving out from the center of the city," Flight Officer David Cummings said. "I'm magnifying the feed!" as the feed of Darkstar 3 focused on on the center of the city, it revealed a large group of mages surrounding what appeared to be a very large concentration of peasants. Upon closer inspection however, it was soon realized they weren't normal peasants.
"Sweet Christ!" Goldfarb exclaimed as it became apparent just who they were. While their clothing war torn, and they were extremely dirty, they could tell those being escorted in the group were none other than civilians kidnapped from Iceland during the first day of the war. Present among them were a few Icelandic police officers, whose uniforms had been all but destroyed from living in conditions she didn't want to think about. The higher ranking officers in the room frantically began making calls to their superiors, wanting to update them on the change of events.
"Flight Lieutenant, tell the bomber to enter an orbit around the city, but to not drop their ordnance, command has called off the strike!" came an order from Wing Commander Irvine.
"Yes sir," she replied dutifully. "BUFF 1-1, you are to enter an orbit around the city of Rondel and await further instruction! I say again, the strike is called off, acknowledge!" a few seconds went by until she got a reply back.
"Roger that mama bird, shifting to a holding pattern, over!"
Goldfarb threw herself back in her chair as she stared at the screen, watching as the Darkstar's cameras and sensors began counting all the civilians down below. The high resolution optics within the drones were state of the art, and had an extremely long range, capable of discerning the identity of an individual even at a height of 90,000 feet, and with a height ceiling even larger than that. To have the ability to accurately identify and catalog over 1,000 people in such a way would be deemed impossible in the early 21st century. But it was 2081, and technology had come a long way.
When Operation Whirlwind had been authorized in response to the Saderan attack at Proptor, the B-52's were the only aircraft that had the range to reliably hit every major city within the Empire, be able to hit multiple targets on a single mission, and carry enough ordnance to do the same. While they were over a century old, they were still reliable, and were seen as best suited for the mission. However, the mission had changed. There was no way the United Nations could justify a nuclear strike on a city, no matter how dangerous said city is, with over 1,000 kidnapped citizens residing in it. Not when a prior effort to rescue them hadn't been mounted first, something that is sure to happen now.
"Well this just got a whole lot more complicated," Goldfarb said as she ran a hand through her hair, watching as the sensor array continued to count more and more civilians down below, syncing the data from the three drones watching above. "Why the hell are there so many of them this far out there?"
"Might have something to do with the mages trying to learn more about our technology," Cummings said with a shrug. "After all, a lot of teachers went missing, as well as mechanics, doctors, and other people who you'd think would be useful in creating and maintaining a modern civilization. Even police officers, as we can see right there." he said, pointing to the feed. Thanks to genetic profiling, facial recognition, and every other piece of important information you'd expect would be compiled for those missing, for each and every face that Darkstar Flight captured, a separate profile appeared across the screens in the command center.
And there were a lot of names. Icelandic, British, Norwegian, American, Canadian, Russian, Swiss, Australian, Japanese, the list went on and on. While still many of the Icelandic civilians weren't among those down below, or at least as far as they had seen, most of the foreign nationals captured in Reykjavik, were among them. No, levelling the city and any target within wasn't possible any longer.
"1,200 and counting, sir," Goldfarb said, watching as the numbers kept increasing. "Orders sir?" she asked, turning to Wing Commander Irvine, who was speaking into a headset with those higher up the chain than him. He glanced over at her for a few moments, still speaking to whomever was on the other end. He acknowledged her query, but said nothing in reply. He didn't know what to do, at least not entirely. The minutes passed by in the operations center as Irvine spoke with those on the other end, which soon turned into ten, then twenty, and then thirty. The live feed was streamed not only to those in other ops centers around the base, but even back through Alpha Point to Geneva.
Delegates and commanders from every nation, and chiefly from those whose citizens were now confirmed alive and imprisoned by the Saderans, argued fiercely about what steps to take next.
"Yes sir, understood sir! We will-" Irvine said into the head set, before being interrupted by one of the operators calling out in warning.
"Enemy contact on approach!" the camera operator of Darkstar 2 called out, as they panned their camera over to the rapidly approaching contact. "Visual contact confirmed, one Class B Special Region Kaiju, rapidly approaching BUFF 1-1 at a distance of three kilometers, and closing at approximately 550 kilometers per hour!" he informed.
"DO NOT ENGAGE!" Irvine snapped towards the drone operators. "Do you hear me? Tell the escorts not to fire on that wyvern! Do not do anything to endanger the civilians down there!" he ordered.
"Yes sir!" Goldfarb responded. "Lightning Flight, do not engage the wyverns, I repeat, do not engage!"
"Lightning Lead copies, Momma Bird!" Lightning Lead replied, his voice booming over the speakers in the room. "Are we clear to engage if the wyvern turns hostile?"
"Yes they are," Irvine said. "Just tell them to keep a distance from the wyvern, and do nothing to antagonize them."
"Did you hear that, Lightning Lead?" Goldfarb said through her headset.
"Solid copy!" the pilot said with a sigh.
On the radar screen showing the battle space above the city, the escorting fighters on both flanks, symbolized by blue dots, pulled back. Meanwhile, a red dot, symbolizing the wyvern on approach, steadily grew closer. Before long, the rider and his mount, both of which were glowing with a light bluish-green hue, had finally caught up with its intended target. The lead B-52 bomber trailing behind Darkstar Flight, was where the rider flew towards. The man, wearing some type of robe, and not carrying any type of weapon, simply flew alongside the bomber, slack jawed and wide eyed. Darkstar 3, which was closest to BUFF 1-1, was situated in just the right position relative to the bomber, was able to aim its camera directly at the man.
The high resolution camera caught every slight wrinkle and twitch on the man's face. His expression off pure shock and terror was very plain, and no one could mistake it for anything but. His teeth chattered and lips quivered. Despite the bone chilling cold at the altitude, and his magic aura around his body, beads of sweat rolled down his face. As his wyvern steadily picked up its speed, he was soon, eyeball to eyeball with the pilots aboard the bomber. While Darkstar couldn't see the pilots inside the bomber, they nonetheless gave the wyvern ride a number of obscene gestures for his trouble.
Then, his attention became focused onto Darkstar 3, who was but a few hundred meters away. The long, sleek, dark, and arrow shaped drone made the man's color drain from his face. He yanked hard on the reins of the wyvern, and took a steep dive back down below, darting towards the city of Rondel below. The command center was quiet for a few moments, before the voice of one of the escort pilots broke the silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the smartest Imperial in the world!"
Some light chuckles followed the comment, but as Goldfarb looked back at Wing Commander Irvine, the look on his face was anything but joyous. She understood what he was feeling, and many others felt it too. There were close to 2,000 captured civilians below in the city, and before long, the Imperial garrison within the city would know they were there. Civilians that would be at their mercy, and would undoubtedly be used as living shields. The Saderans may have been unaware of their presence earlier, but they would soon know now.
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Magic Academy
City of Rondel
Inside the walls of the Magic Academy of Rondel, Lelei La Lalena, Arpeggio, and the few other surviving mages who narrowly escaped the massacre at Proptor, had gathered what was left of the master sorcerers, and other assorted combat mages who had since returned to the city, even without permission to do so. The few dozen of them that were left, sat nervously in the room, flinching as the sounds of the explosions outside, and the shaking of the ground from the Otherworlders unholy bombardment of their city, made them wonder if they were next.
"So that's it...they're all dead?" Chida El Fumma said, looking over at Lelei and Arpeggio with an expression of pure defeat and dread. A look shared by the majority of those in the room. "What are we going to do now?"
"We lost Grand Mage Godasen, we lost Grand Masters Cato and Mimoza, and now so many of my students." said the once assistant to Cato and Mimoza, and now the highest ranked master at the Academy. In all her years, Treina La Alnis never thought she'd ever be the Headmaster at the Magic Academy of Rondel. If the circumstances had been different, she'd be absolutely ecstatic. But right now, she felt nothing but pure sorrow and pain in her heart. Her best friends were now dead, some of the brightest and best students she trained, killed in another of the Empire's useless wars. So many lives, so much potential, gone with but a single man's orders. "All because of Molt and his damned appetite for more land!" she bit out.
"An appetite which will bring a force to our doorstep so powerful, we can't hope to face them." Lelei said, as serious as the girl always was. But her deadpanned and grim words only served to worsen the mood in the room.
"I don't know what we can do to stop them." said one of her fellow mages and survivors of the failed assault on Proptor.
"We can't," another survivor added. "We were the finest mages in the world, and look how they decimated us!" the man said through gritted teeth.
"If these 'United Nations' are as powerful as you all say, I don't see what we can do to stop them." said the head of the Rondel Security Council. "So what does that leave us?"
"I don't see what options we have aside from surrender, Tornam." Arpeggio said, looking over at the dwarven man with a scowl on her face. Not aimed at the Head of Security, it was just an expression she'd kept since she narrowly survived the carnage at Proptor. "If we fight them, we'll be massacred."
"But if we make any notion of trying to surrender, the Emperor may seek retribution against us!" Tornam argued. "The Imperial Barracks in the southeast will mobilize and attack the city if they get wind of us surrendering! But...I don't want to keep fighting at all. I already lost my son, I don't want to lose my wife and daughter too."
"You're not the only one whose lost family you know." said another of the survivors from the Proptor massacre. But before Tornam could make a retort, Arpeggio slammed her hand down on the table.
"Now isn't the time for us to be fighting among ourselves!" she growled. "We have to figure out what we're going to do. We need to come up with a plan."
"The question is how long do we have?" Treina asked, right as the door flew open, and a wide eyed and panting scoutsman burst into the room.
"The...the..." he panted out, pausing to catch his breath.
"Easy son, what's going on?" Tornam said, getting up from his seat, walking over to the young man, and guided him to an empty seat in the room. "Catch your breath, and tell us what's going on." The scoutman merely nodded and panted heavily for another minute, before speaking.
"The otherworlders, sir! Their giant metal birds were seen flying above the city! They've been circling like scavengers for an hour by now!"
"What!" Nearly the whole room said at once, fresh worry and fear on their faces as they heard the news.
"They've been above us for how long?" Arpeggio choked out.
"One of our sentries thought it an illusion, but soon realized that something was above the city. When they dispatched a wyvern rider to investigate, he managed to get close enough to the metal bird to confirm that it was just that."
"He managed to get close enough to see it? They didn't attack him?" Lelei asked skeptically.
"No, they didn't, and that was what was concerning. They seemed to actively avoid our wyvern scouts when they got closer to their birds." Everyone in the room, especially those who had fought against the otherworlders, looked at each other in bewilderment. "But the expressions and gestures they gave him were not in any way friendly however. But that's not the only thing I have to tell you."
"What else is there?" Arpeggio asked, half dreading the answer.
"We have a few fae among the otherworlders at the otherworlder fort at Alnus Hill. They report that many of the demihuman auxiliary have joined the otherworlders against the Empire. And while they express no regret in doing so, their own connections with our fae scouts allowed them to send us a very important message to us." the scoutsman paused, his face going pale as he remembered what he had been told.
"What did they say, lad?" Tornam asked.
"I don't exactly know what they were talking about, but it terrifies me. They said that the otherworlders loaded their flying birds with weapons called 'City Destroyers'."
Lelei, Arpeggio, and the rest of the mages present, who were privy to information about the otherworlds and their capabilities, looked at the scout in abject horror, while Alnis and Tornam looked bewildered, not having been told about just exactly what the otherworlders had at their disposal. The silence in the room was deafening, as no one knew what to say in reply. The silence dragged on for a half a minute before one of the survivors of the massacre at Proptor, burst into scared and ugly sobbing.
"I don't want to die!" they sobbed.
"we're doomed," another said. "They followed us here from Proptor, and now the whole city will suffer for it."
"What are we going to do?" a third asked.
"We can't fight them," Lelei said, her usual passive expression turned to one of dismay. "I know you are concerned over the Imperial garrison within and around the city, Tornam, but if the spies are correct, it won't matter in the end. If we don't surrender to the otherworlders, we will be wiped from the face of the continent. We can deal with the legionaries here however, and we must."
"And how do you propose we do that? Our defense corps won't stand a chance against the flame dragons the Emperor has put here to keep us in line."
"The flame dragons will only turn against us if their handlers give the order and stir the beasts from their slumber." one of the other mages said. "If we can kill them, or at least incapacitate them, they won't be able to order them against us."
"As for the legionaries and other Imperials around the city, me and others like me who possess the ability to use spirit magic, can put them all to sleep." added one of the few elven mages present. "Once done, that should give the defense corps enough time to round them up, take their weapons, and lock them away."
"That's not liable to work against The Immortals though," Arpeggio added. "We might be forced to fight them directly."
"We can win," Lelei said confidently. "We know how they operate, we helped create them. We know their strengths and weaknesses both. It won't be too difficult."
"And there's not that many of them here either." Alnis added. "When the war began, most went off to Alnus Hill to fight. None of them ever came back."
"Indeed, which makes our job much easier." Lelei replied. "So are we all in agreement, then? We make preparations now, and kick out the Imperial occupiers."
"But what about the otherworlders!" Tornam said. "You said if we don't surrender to them, we'll all be destroyed, but how exactly do you propose to surrender to them in the first place? They don't even have an army outside our gates? Just metal birds of death circling our great city!" Tornam's look of confusion only grew deeper as Lelei's face sported a wide, and slightly maniacal grin across it.
"Don't you worry about that, I have a plan to get a message to them." she replied, before turning back to the scoutsman. "Are the wyvern scouts ready to fly once more? We require them if we are to pull this off." At the request, the young lad jumped to his feet and rapidly nodded his head.
"Y-yes ma'am, they are awaiting orders on what to do next."
"Good," Lelei said. "Now listen carefully, and do exactly as I say!"
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Inside the Command Center at Fort Hadrian, everyone who was watching the drone feeds from Darkstar Flight had expected a massacre of the prisoners being held down below. It was expected that once the wyvern got back down to report what it saw, every last citizen kidnapped from Iceland, would be put to the sword. But what was coming across their camera feeds, was something they never expected. In the large dragon pens, which held the flame dragons, robed figures began sneaking in and around the building, slicing the throats of the guards outside of them. Infrared and electromagnetic sensors picked up heightened readings inside the buildings for a few minutes, then it all ceased. Then, more robed figures began approaching the barracks and living area for the legion that was stationed in the city.
Everyone in the room watched with amazement as the patrolling legionaries began to drop one after the other. The few that saw what was occurring had no time to react before they too had succumbed to whatever was spreading amongst their ranks. Once the last one had finally dropped, dozens of robed figures began to materialize from nearby buildings, disarmed the legionaries, and began dragging them inside the barracks. Inside the barracks housing the Immortals, blue and green bolts of energy slammed into them from all sides, killing the Immortals standing watch, and setting the barracks aflame.
Some of the Immortals ran out, weapons at the ready, looking for whoever dared attack them, but just like the legionaries, they stood no chance. Magic bolts tore through them like a hot knife through butter, and in less than a minute, there was no more movement from the building.
To the point of view of everyone watching, it was as if the local mages had staged an open revolt against the Imperial garrison there, and had won. Not only that, but the dragon and wyvern pens were showing no activity, and there wasn't a single Imperial troop left standing. It was an amazing sight, and most of those in the room wondered just why they had done that.
But the answer would soon become obvious as one by one, the robed figures standing in the streets or on the rooftops, began gazing up in the sky. Some nowhere near Darkstar Flight and the bombers and escorts with it, others appearing to be looking directly into the cameras themselves. Then, a group of wyverns began to take flight, large white flags draped across the creatures tails, and they began circling the city. Before long, other white flags began to be hoisted across rooftops all over the city, in every corner, and tall building. Even the vaunted magic academy had taken down the Saderan flag it held, and replaced it with a flag of truce.
"They're surrendering," Goldfarb muttered incredulously. "They're actually bloody surrendering. And we didn't even fire a shot."
"I don't fucking believe it." Cummings said, his eyes wide in astonishment, as a wide grin grew across his face. "We aren't even gonna have to fight the bloody bastards! They've already thrown in the towel!"
"Is everyone else seeing this?" Lightning Lead said over the comm channel, clearly as surprised as everyone else.
"Looks like it, Lightning Lead. Looks like we won't be needed over here, but I'll be damned if I complain." BUFF 1-1's pilot added.
Everyone in the room breathed a collective sigh of relief at what they were witnessing. No more innocent lives would be lost, and no blood spilled, at least not here. It actually made some of them happy, happy that they wouldn't get a first class seat to a massacre in the making.
"Lightning 2-5 here, anyone else see what I'm seeing down there? Just want to make sure I'm not going blind here." the pilot said, jolting everyone back to the task at hand.
There was indeed something new for them to take notice of, something that made them do a double take before realizing what they were seeing was real. In the center of the city, standing atop a large building, stood a blue haired girl wielding a large staff. Around her, stood a group of mages, and they all joined her in projecting a message into the air, hovering above them, and large enough for it to be read well enough for the drones above. In large blue and green letters, read the following message;
We do not wish to continue this useless war against your peoples and wish to surrender. We were drawn into this war against our will and seek to make peace with the United Nations of Earth. Spare our city from your City Destroying weapons, and we will offer no further resistance against your armies here or anywhere else in Falmart. We do not wish to continue Emperor Molt's useless war and suffer for it. Please, spare our city, we will accept your terms for surrender, and turn over the Imperials we have within our city, as well as control of the flame dragons, to your armies. We beg you, do not destroy our city.