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Earned In Blood; CCRPG Marines Compiliation III
Topic Started: 16 Jan 2009, 06:42 PM (1,211 Views)
Wraith
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Preparing for the Second Coming
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
PROLOGUE

Confederation Embassy, Masterix

"I'm glad we could be civilized and come to the negotiating table, gentleman," Ambassador Arlan Harrison said, pulling up a chair of his own. "Now, Mr. Ambassador, what exactly are these grievances you have spoken of?"

Ambassador Jacob Greene, of the Outer Colonial Coalition, leaned forward and folded his hands. "My delegation wishes to make it clear of our intentions here. Our government and people no longer wish to negotiate."

"But...but you never even came forward before! If you're not here to negotiate a settlement, then why are you here at all?"

Greene snapped his fingers, and one of his aides handed him a sheet of paper. He slid it across the table. "This is a declaration of secession from the Outer Colonial Coalition., with a list of grievances forced upon us by your oppressive government. We will not stand tyranny any longer."

Harrison studied the proclamation for a few minutes, then clenched his teeth and passed it on to the other members of his delegation. "These so-called 'grievances' are negotiable. There is no need for such drastic action!"

"Our people and government have deemed such action necessary to prevent future oppression. You will not allow us sovereignty by your own free will."

"Of course not! President Whitehall will never tolerate secession. This would mean war!"

"Of course, we expected such a reaction. So we have already begun our offensive."

"WHAT!?"

"You cannot chain us any longer if we break the chains, can you?"

Harrison gaped, mouth open, speechless. One of his staff leapt up from his chair and across the table. "You son of a bitch! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

"NO! Stop!" Harrison shouted. Two of the other staff members jumped to their feet and grabbed the man by the shoulders, holding him back. "I'll kill you. We'll kill you!"

"Get him outta here!" Harrison ordered, standing up from his chair. The aides pulled the man, still cursing and shouting, out of the room.

"You see? This is why we must secede from your violent Confederation."

"Be silent, Mr. Ambassador. We held this meeting to negotiate a settlement, not declare war and gloat over backstabbing surprise attacks! This meeting is over. Expect no quarter," With that, Harrison motioned for his entire delegation to leave, and slammed the door behind him.
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OOC: Oi, someone pin this please!

CHAPTER I

Camp Oliver Barton, Bessan

Gunnery Sergeant Jack "Wraith" Calahan marched across the parade field, staring up into the dark night illuminated by sparkling stars and the glow of Bessan's twin moons. He drew one of his knives and weighed it in his hand, looking at his reflection in the polished blade. He had recently been given a nasty scar by an attacker on the FIST's most recent campaign, Euradis, that barely missed his eye. What doesn't kill me, makes me stronger, he thought.

But Calahan had more important business to attend to this night. He barged through the door to the quartermaster's office and walked up to the desk. "Watch yer hand," he said, and then he suddenly stabbed the knife down, digging the point into the table. Staff Sergeant Zarqawi, the battalion quartermaster, jumped and nearly fell out of his chair.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Wraith! What the fuck is wrong with you!?" he swore.

"Oh, don't be a wuss, Frank. I need an upgrade," Calahan said, stabbing the other knife into the table.

"My name's not Frank, you fuckhead."

"Nevertheless, I'd like you to make these knives into knuckledusters as well, around the hilt, Joe."

"Why on World should I care what you want?"

"Because I'm a Gunnery Sergeant and you're a Staff Sergeant. And you owe me a few, Bill."

Zarqawi sighed deeply. "Fine. I'll have 'em ready sometime tomorrow morning."

"Good," Calahan said walking to the door. As he opened it, Zarqawi shouted, "And my name's not Bill, it's"

Calahan slammed the door.

------------------------------------------------------

As he marched back across the field towards the Delta Company NCO Barracks, someone approached him, Lieutenant "Red" Bandon, the company XO. "Oi, Wraith! Are you goin' into town?"

"I wasn't planning on it," Calahan said, stopping.

"Well plan on it. We just got that batch of replacements for the entire company, and since you're the only Delta Co NCO on base, we need you to take 'em into town and integrate them with their platoons."

Calahan rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll take 'em into town on the next bus in. Have 'em at the station in one-zero minutes, Red."

-------------------------------------------------------

Camptown, Bessan

Corporal "Ape" Tewkes was horribly drunk, like he usually was on liberty. But he was now standing on top of a table leading half the company in a Dangor drinking song. Lance Corporal Aster O'Deth clutched his ears - the singing was horrible.

"God dommit! Shoot the fock up!" he swore.

"What'sh up, Ass?" said Corporal Carr, Aster's teammate, stumbling over to his table and slumping into a chair.

"Don't call me 'Ass' eva agin, or I'll rip out yer throat," Aster said murderously.

"Fffine, ffine."

"Where da 'ell is Loondy?"

"Where do ya think he ish?"

Aster rolled his eyes. "Of cerse. And Mike?"

"Where elsh? Shpeaking of which, I's got an appointment, wi' da doctor. I'll be sheeing ya later," Carr slurred, standing up and stumbling back across the room.

"Oi, Dootch!" Aster shouted to Sergeant "Dutch" Sanol, the senior fire team leader of his squad.

"What do you want, Aster?" Sanol replied curtly.

"Can ya get 'em to shuddup?"

"No can do, Aster. I, for one, like Dangor drinking songs."

"God dom it."

Suddenly, the door to the bar burst open. "QUIET DOWN, YOU PRICKS! STAND AT ATTENTION!" Gunnery Sergeant Calahan's voice boomed. The singing immediately stopped, and everyone in the room stood at a wobbly attention at best.

"Jush pleeshing da bar, Sharge!" Ape slurred, grinning and saluting as best he could. He then promptly collapsed, falling off the table and crashing to the floor.

"Okay, fuckers, we just got in a new batch of replacements. Marines, FALL IN!"

Several dozen Marines nervously entered the bar and lined up next to Calahan. "New Marines, form up with your appropriate platoons!" Most of the men dispersed to where each of their respective units were gathered, with four coming to Third Platoon. Three men still remained next to Calahan.

"Okay, Second Platoon! Corporal Whitefield just got back from his little cut. Corporal, get outta here! Fourth Platoon, PFC Westheimer just got back from Wammy, so he's a lucky sumbitch! First Platoon, fall in on me! Idiot's back!"

A mighty cheer erupted from the men of First Platoon, or those that weren't passed out on the floor. PFC Lewis "Idiot" Erikson stepped forward into the crowd.

"Hey, Idiot! Didja get a medal?"

"Hey Idiot! You're drinking three rounds, and I'm buyin'!"

"Oi, lad! I thought ya were dide!"

"That is all, Company D. Fall out!" With that, Calahan left the bar back into the cold night.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, barkeep! We could use four shots o' scotch down here!" Sergeant Sanol bellowed.

"I'm buyin'!" said Corporal Mannerheim.

"Bullshit! I'm buyin'!" snapped Lance Corporal Padrino.

"All of ya, back off! This lad's mien!" Aster roared, shoving through the rest of the squad. "Oi thaya, lad! 'Ave fun with yer first 'ospital visit?" Aster asked, grabbing one of the shots.

"Well, it was exactly what I expected. Saw a lot of men and Marines in sorry shape, but I did get to see the nurses."

"That's the spirit, lad! Now yar startin' ta get the gist of bein' a Marine!"

"Hey, Idiot, I heard they were citing you for the Medal of Heroism!" PFC Darthan Isis said.

Erikson snorted. "Oh no. I was recommended for the Medal of Valor. I got it while I was in the hospital on Parris."

Several of the replacements and younger marines gasped in awe.

"Wel,, we all agree that you did a 'elluva joab out thar, lad. To Erikson!"

"TO IDIOT!"

Suddenly several large men shoved through the crowd around the bar. "Hey hey hey, I heard Idiot just got back in," said Sergeant "Lundy" Lundhorn, Aster and Erikson's fire team leader, missing his tunic and boots.

"You heard right, sarge!" shouted Erikson.

"Hey there, Marine! Just wanted to see for myself tonight. Congrats on pullin' through," Lundy said, shaking Erikson's hand. "Anyways, I'll see you in barracks tonight. I have to enforce the law around this part of town," Lundy said, grinning. With that, he ran off back through the bar.

"Let's hope he doesn't die before the next deployment, eh Aster?" Sergeant Sanol chuckled.

"'Ere, 'ere."
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CHAPTER II

Home, World

The briefing room in the bunker below the House of Sovereigns was dim, but that was a limitation of running power lines one-hundred fifty feet below the ground. The bunker housed the primary headquarters of many agencies and departments of the Confederation government, most significantly, in this case, the headquarters of the Confederation General Staff.

President Joseph Whitehall had been elected President of the Country Capital Confederation of Worlds almost three years ago. Whitehall was a Rezelian, pragmatic and sensible, but with a flair for the dramatic both in speech and dress - he was never caught on camera without a multi-thousand-dollar business suit.

As Whitehall entered the briefing room with his staff, the men sitting around the table - the Joint Chiefs of the General Staff, the Ministers of War and Defense, and the Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs - stood up, as was custom.

"Thank you gentlemen," Whitehall said, sitting down in his own chair. The others followed suit. "Jeffrey, what exactly is the situation?"

Jeffrey Moxxin, the Minister of Defense, was Antethian, unlike many of his predecessors who had been Se'alonese. Moxxin was the former head of the Law Enforcement Bureau of the Ministry of Justice.

Moxxin stood up. "Mr. President, as you have no doubt been informed, yesterday, during negotiations, the delegation from the so-called 'Outer Colonial Coalition' informed our Ambassador of a declaration of war on our Confederation. According to Minister Arvican's intelligence reports," he said, indicating Ferdinand Arvican, the enormous, but highly intelligent, Duranic Minister of War. "the Coalition military forces had already begun their initial offensive before the negotiations took place."

Whitehall stroked his chin for a moment. "Do we know the composition and positions of the Coalition's forces?"

"The Coalition military and navy is made up of many planetary armies and navies of member worlds. They are trained, but are not professional soldiers. Regarding their positions, I turn over the floor to Marshal Morrin," Moxxin said, sitting down.

Marshal Henry Morrin was the Chief of the General Staff, and therefore the highest-ranking officer in the Confederation Military Force minus the Ministers of War and Defense and the President himself. Morrin was, strangely, Bennerian, despite the tradition of a Duranic CGS. Morrin stood up and cleared his throat, walking over to the wall opposite Whitehall, where a screen slid down from the ceiling. Immediately, a map of the Confederation appeared on the screen.

"We do not have fixes on all of the positions of Coalition units, but we do know that they have nearly overrun the Inner Colonies by this time, and their advance forces have neared the Outer Rim. Here is the furthest confirmed advance of any Coalition advance units," Morrin said, zooming in to the brink of the Outer Rim, enlarging four planetary systems. One of them was highlighted red.

"The furthest advance of hostile forces is here, Gorgava, just outside the Outer Rim. However, by now, those forces could have breached the Rim itself."

"What about our military facilities in the Outer Colonies?"

"Unfortunately, the Coalition overran most of the unprepared CMF bases on the OCC member worlds within hours of their attack. They have besieged several other installations, which we cannot help, and we are currently evacuated any other bases in the Colonies that have not yet been attacked."

"And the casualties?"

"We estimate twelve thousand dead, more or less. The Coalition has disclosed that they have captured fifteen thousand four-hundred twenty-seven CMF personnel and counting."

"What do you believe is their objective, Marshal?" Whitehall asked.

"Good question, Mr. President." Instantly, another system on the map, just inside the Outer Rim, was highlighted green. "We believe that the vanguard units are aiming to knock out our major facilities in the Outer Rim before we can mobilize. In this area, we believe they are preparing to attack and overwhelm our naval base and army depot on this planet, Verdun."

"Verdun?"

"Yes, Mr. President, the name is not a coincidence. The CMF initially settled, and named, Verdun about a century ago to serve as a bulwark and assembly area against any threats while we were colonizing the Outer Rim. It also serves as a major cemetary and memorial world for our war dead, past and present."

"What is your suggestion, Marhsal?"

"We can send any available nearby forces to defend Verdun immediately, or we can abandon the base and pull back to prepare a counteroffensive."

Whitehall leaned back and paused in thought for a few moments. "What nearby forces do we have that can be sent to Verdun?"

"Three Marine FISTs, two Army divisions, and a naval flotilla. We already have an army division and a Marine FIST on Verdun itself, with anotehr flotilla in orbit."

The room was silent for several minutes as Whitehall pondered his choices. Whitehall then leaned forward and looked at the packet in front of him. "So, we'll be sending in these units - 38th, 94th, and 117th FISTs, the 21st and 82nd Divisions, and 3rd Naval Flotilla, all Fifth Fleet units - to hold the line, and die if need be, on this planet?"

"Yes, Mr. President. I must warn you, however, that if the incoming Coalition force is as strong as we believe, these men will be stranded there for at least a week while we prepare a fleet to counterattack. It's your call."

Whitehall leaned back again and clutched his forehead. I'm gambling with the lives of about forty-thousand men here, he thought. Is it really worth the risk?

After several more minutes of deliberation, Whitehall leaned foward again. "Gentlemen, we need Verdun - both as a base and a symbol. If we can make a stand there, then perhaps our soldiers and population can be inspired enough to finish the fight against these rebels with extreme prejudice. We can beat them back here. We can hold the line!"

Marshal Morrin smiled slightly. "Orders, sir?"

"We are now at DEFCON One. Mobilize the Confederation Military Force for war, Marshal."

"And Verdun?"

"Put 'em in."
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CHAPTER III

Camp Oliver Barton, Bessan

Corporal Victor Sazmeka, one of the half-dozen communications operators for 94th FIST, was having a slow day. It was 3 AM, and he had been unlucky enough to get the graveyard shift. He took a sip from his coffee - black, just the way he liked it. Damn, I love the Martomi for this stuff, he thought.

Suddenly, the console bleeped shrilly, nearly causing Sazmeka to dump coffee all over his front. He pulled and saw the address, which was, of course, to Brigadier Wolfe, marked URGENT. He printed off the contents, grabbed it off the dispenser, and skimmed the message:

Quote:
 
One day ago, World Time, a faction made up of several planets in the Outer Colonies, calling themselves the 'Outer Colonial Coalition' declared war on the Country Capital Confederation of Worlds despite ongoing negotiations. To all Confederation Military personnel, we have recently learned that the Coalition launched its offensive before its declaration.

Coalition vanguard units have breached the Outer Rim by this time. To all unit commanders that this version of the message has been sent to, your immediate orders are attached, calling for immediate mobilization of your respective units and their deployment to the disclosed location. These orders are EYES ONLY.

We are now at DEFCON ONE.


The message was 'signed' by the seal of the Chief of the General Staff.

Sazmeka's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"WE'VE GOT A DEFCON ONE! DEFCON ONE!" he bellowed.

Instantly, the other men in the room - clerks, comm operators, and runners - leapt from their chairs and began to frantically move about and/or exit the building. Sazmeka dashed over to Brigadier Wolfe's aide-de-camp, Master Sergeant James Forrest, and handed him the message and attachment. Forrest shoved his chair out of the way and opened the door to the Brigadier's office.

"Hello, James. I suppose you have forgotten the courtesy of knoc-" Wolfe started, concetrating intently on the work on his desk.

Forrest cut him off by walking over and slapping the orders down on the desk. "We have a DEFCON ONE, sir," he muttered, utterly serious.

Wolfe jerked his head up and rose from his chair. "I need to see the battalion commanders, right now. James, order the company commanders to arouse their Marines and assemble them in full combat gear on the FIST parade field immediately."

"Yes, sir. I'll get on that right away," Forrest saluted, then walked calmly out of the office. Once he closed the door, he broke into a sprint and barged right out the door to the Officer's Quarters.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Okay, gentlemen, I'll make this brief - these rebels have launched a surprise attack on the Confederation. They attacked before they even declared war. And now they're in the Outer Rim? Questions?" Wolfe explained.

"Shall I mobilize the battalion?" Commander Harlan, the CO of the infantry battalion, asked.

"I've already order Master Sergeant Forrest to notify the company commanders."

"What's our destination?" asked Commander Muldoon, CO of the recon detatchment.

"Glad you asked, Commander. We have been ordered to mobilize and head to the planet Verdun with all speed. No doubt many of you heard of Verdun, I mean the planet, which is the premier military facility in this sector of the Rim. We'll get a more extensive briefing once we're on board the transport and en route."

"Speaking of that, when'll the shuttle arrive?" asked Commander Bottok, CO of the air detatchment.

Wolfe checked his watch. "It should be here by now. But we leave in two hours. Did you all hear me? Two hours. I want everything on that ship in one. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," they all said, nodding.

"Get to it."

------------------------------------------------------

"Platoon commanders, ready the parade field for your platoons. Platoon sergeants, get your platoons up and at the ready, by any means necessary," Captain Ryan finished.

"Does that mean we can shoot blanks, sir?" asked Calahan.

"You call reveille three times, Wraith, no less, then you can shoot one blank. That should be more than enough with the bugler."

Calahan smirked slightly.

"Get to it, men! We have to be on that shuttle in one hour!"

----------------------------------------------------------

Calahan walked up to First Platoon's barracks and barged through the door. He snapped on the lights and boomed, "UP AND FUCKIN' AT 'EM, MARINES! WE HAVE A DEFCON ONE SITUATION! I REPEAT, A DEFCON ONE SITUATION! GET YOUR PURGE PILLS ON THE WAY OUT AND BE IN FULL GEAR ON THE FIST PARADE FIELD IN FIFTEEN MINUTES! IF YOU AREN'T OUT THERE BY THEN YOU'LL BE COURT-MARTIALED FOR DESERTION! UP AND FUCKIN' AT 'EM!"

Many of the Marines reflexively leapt from their beds and grabbed their weapons, then began to grab their combat fatigues. Three of the most hung over Marines in the squad still lay in bed, moaning.

"That's it," Calahan muttered. He raised his pistol and fired one shot into the air, a blank. But it got the message across. "UP AND FUCKING AT 'EM!" Those already awake started moving faster, and those still in their bunks yelped and rolled out of their beds, thudding to the floor. Calahan moved on to the next squad's room in the barracks.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Jesus fucking Christ, does he always do that?" PFC Daniel Rook, one of the replacements, asked his teammates.

"Only in emergencies. He hates us all, so get the fuck used to it, Rookie," said his team leader, Sergeant Arthur Roland.

"Well, I return in spades," Rook muttered, clipping on his chest plate and grabbing his helmet.

"Look, Rookie. He doesn't care how you feel, so don't even say anything," Lance Corporal "Hound" Cole said, buckling the clasps on his armored boots.

"Cut the fuckin' chatter, ladies, and get your asses moving! We've got five minutes to be in formation, move, move, move!" barked Staff Sergeant Steven Lee, their squad leader, who was already in full gear and waving them through the door.

"Fuck him, too," Rook muttered under his breath.

-----------------------------------------------------

It took forty-five minutes for the entire FIST to wake up, take Purge Pills to block the hangover, dress in full combat fatigues, assemble in formation on the FIST parade field, march over to the base spaceport, board the shuttles, and ride up to the waiting transport ship. 94th FIST was a mighty fine unit.
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CHAPTER IV

CTS Sergeant Tuman Si-Gol, en route to Verdun

"Marines, the Confederation is under attack," Captain Ryan began. Several of the men shifted in their seats.

"By who, sir?" someone asked.

"Good question, Staff Sergeant Lee, and a confusing one to answer to you Marines. Who of you reads or hears the news?"

About eight hands raised in the whole company, mostly officers and platoon sergeants.

"Exactly. Well, a bunch of pricks in the Outer Colonies think they've been oppressed by our government, so they decided to secede from the Cofnederation. Then they got it into their heads that they had to attack the COnfederation for independence, and they did it when they were still negotiating. So that's why we're heading to the Outer Rim and not the Outer Colonies."

"What happened to military intelligence?" someone shouted.

"That's a contradiction in terms and you know it, Staff Sergeant Synair. Now, we are heading to the planet of Verdun, a major military base on the edge of the Rim. We're going to be getting there about the same time as Coalition advance units. Now let me be honest with you: we're going in, and we're stayin' in until we are relived, or we will all die. But I don't expect that from you Marines, do I?"

"NO SIR!" the company roared.

"Good. Lieutenant Bandon will give you some intel on the planet," Ryan said, stepping back. Red walked up, the lights dimmed, and the screen flashed to life.

"This is Verdun," he said, skipping through several moviephotos. "As you can see, it rains there. A lot. In fact, almost all the damn time, so get used to it. The planet is a mudhole." The slide switched to wide aerial view of a city. "This is the capital city, of the same name. Fort Andrew Vorback adjoins it on the outskirts. The Fort is the premier feature of the planet, and is what we will be defending. Prepare for urban combat, boys."

"That won't be a problem, Lieutenant!" someone shouted.

"I admire your enthusiasm, Bud. I hope you enjoy the rain."

"I sure as hell fuckin' do, sir!" Gunnery Sergeant Corrion responded.

"Back to you Captain," Red finished, stepping back. Captain Ryan walked back up to the forefront.

"This will be a hostile area, so prepare for a combat landing. We come out of PlaneSpace in about three-zero mike, so grab your gear and get to the pod bays!"

OOC: This was a short plot/planet exposition chapter. Yay action next!
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CHAPTER V

CBS Relentless, Verdun Orbit

"Commodore, we have incoming contacts. They will emerge from PlaneSpace momentarily," Captain Origith said.

"Are they 'ostile, er frindlay?" Commodore O'Riley asked.

"We believe they are hostile, sir. We have friendly contacts reported inbound, ETA ten minutes."

"Alright, Cap'n. Order the fleet to arm weapons ind prepare for battle."

"Aye, sir," Captain Origith turned to his bridge crew. "WO, arm missiles! Prepare to volley tubes one through fifty at enemy jump coordinates!"

"Aye, sir!" the Weapons officer responded.

"STC, scramble fighters! Order them to orbit the fleet and attack on my signal!"

"Aye, sir!" the Space Traffic Controller replied.

"WO, are the missiles armed and cannons loaded?"

"Aye, sir! Missiles are armed and cannons are loaded!"

"Sir, contacts are emerging from PlaneSpace now!" the sensor operator shouted.

"WO, volley, tubes one through fifty. FIRE!"

---------------------------------------------------

Across the space over the planet, several dozen ships emerged from white portals that opened up on the darkness. Almost instantly, several hundred missiles flew from the forward missile tubes of the entire Confederation flotilla.

As the missiles streaked toward their targets, the Coalition ships put emergency countermeasures into effect, popping enormous, glowing flares and firing Alpha Chaff, both of which emmitted heat and radar signatures, respectively, to throw off the targeting systems of the missiles.

Most of the missiles whined off course, but several dozen stayed locked. As they closed, the Coalition captains fired Beta Chaff from their point-defense guns, designed to simply block the missiles and explode them prematurely.

Even still, several missiles made it through the gauntlet, and one of the Coalition ships was torn apart by the impacts and blasts. The single battleship leading the Coalition fleet aimed its long-range cannons and let them belch their loads at the Confederation ships.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Whoa!" one of the bridge crewman said, watching out the viewports as the battleship's shells speared right through a nearby frigate, shattering it in a luminous fireball.

"Helm, manuever starboard! Bring the heavy gun turrets to bear! WO, fire LRCs!" Origith ordered.

"Aye, sir!"

The battleship lurched to the right, and the turrets of single, double, and tripple cannons turned to face the enemy.

"Locking targets, sir!" the weapons officer shouted.

"We've got incoming missiles!" shouted the sensor operator.

"Pop flares and fire alpha chaff!" Origith ordered.

"Launching!" the secondary weapons officer shouted.

"Targets are locked. Firing long-range cannons!" the weapons officer said.

The long-range cannons of the Relentless boomed, sending huge-caliber shells across the expanse of space into the densly-packed fleet of Coalition ships. Two fireballs erupted from within, signaling direct hits.

"One Foxtrot is destroyed, one Charlie is damaged, Captain!" the sensor operator cheered.

"Order the fleet to close range! Hit 'em with the broadsides!" Commodore O'Rily ordered.

"Roger. All ahead full! Helm, hard to port!" Origith opened a comm channel to Engineering. "Engineering, this is Bridge. All ahead full, over!"

"Roger that, all ahead full!"

"Sir!" the sensor operator shouted. "Incoming friendly contacts! EMerging from PlaneSpace...now!"

--------------------------------------------------------

CTS Sergeant Tuman Si-Gol, Verdun Orbit

The ship lurched, signalling its emergence from PlaneSpace. Suddenly, it shuddered violently, going into immediate evasive action, sending half of First Platoon onto the deck.

"That's it, into the shuttles! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" Calahan bellowed, still standing due to a nearby handhold. "This is a combat landing, Marines! Strap in and buckle up!"

OOC: I'm gonna have to cut off here and pick this up in another chapter sometime later this week, as I'm using my secondary computer and don't have my character sheet on hand.
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CHAPTER VI

CTS Sergeant Tuman Si-Gol, Verdun Orbit

"Thank fuckin' God we're using the shuttles," said Lance Corporal Cole, entering the shuttle and taking a seat.

"Why? What's wrong with the pods?" asked PFC "Rookie" Rook, grabbing over his shoulder for part of his harness.

"Are you thick, Rookie? We got fuckin' legroom in here, that's what!" Cole snapped, buckling two parts of the harness into the central clip.

"Oi, shuddup and get locked in, Marines!" Sergeant Roland barked. He was already fully strapped in. The harnesses that stabilized the occupants of a drop shuttle were so numerous and tight that they prevented all but the slightest movement.

"Squad leaders, sound off!" Calahan barked from outside.

"Second Squad, locked in!" Lee replied, not strapped in himself. The squad leaders and the platoon sergeant were always the last to lock in, with the platoon commander following in the second wave, after the first had secured an LZ.

"First Squad, locked in!" Alex responded.

"Third Squad, locked in!" Ben shouted.

"Squad leaders, lock in!" Calahan ordered.

"Roger that!" the squad leaders replied, sitting down in their respective chairs and grabbing the harnesses.

"Hey, Wraith! I got you're fuckin' knives, you ass!" Sergeant Zarqawi shouted, walking up to Calahan. "You fucking rushed me! I know you hate going in without yer knives!" Zarqawi slapped the two knives into Calahan's open palm.

"Hnh," Calahan grunted. "You better get geared up to head on down next wave."

"Yeah, I feel really appreciated. Thanks a lot," Zarqawi snapped sarcastically, walking away.

(OOC Aside: I won't do this very often, but I'll sometimes make comments. Quartermasters are seriously underappreciated. I know, because I'm the QM for my Boy Scout Troop, and I work to the brink of brain-death and everyone just whines about what I forgot. Just sayin', next time you meet a QM, or someone in charge of supplies, think about the work that goes into it :P)

Calahan turned away to face the shuttle again. "Squad leaders, sound off!"

"One-One, okay!"

"One-Two okay!"

"One-Three, strapped in!"

Calahan nodded and stepped into the shuttle himself, sheathing his knives and sitting in his own seat near the front. He was locked in within seconds. "Coxwain, landing force is ready to land!" he shouted.

"Roger that. Shuttle Echo Two-Three Mike, ready to land, over," the coxwain said into the comm.

"Shuttle Echo Two-Three Mike, land the landing force," said a comm, automated female voice.

"Roger that! Hang on, boys, this is gonna be good!" the coxwain shouted back. His fingers danced briefly on his control panel, then he grabbed the steering yoke. The exit door slammed shut, and the hold went pitch-black. Then the squad leaders and Calahan activated the red night vision lights on their helmets.

There was a moment of total silence, with only a muffled creak from just outside.

Then, with a deafening BANG!, the Marines were pressed against their seats with the G forces of several Earth atmospheres.

--------------------------------------------------------

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" PFC John R. Barrett screamed at the top of his lungs as the shuttle plummeted down towards the planet at several hundred miles per hour.

"F-f-f-first t-t-t-time c-c-c-combat l-l-l-landing, P-P-P-Private?" his team leader, Sergeant Jason Garnett stuttered.

The shuttle was shaking violently as it descended. The newer members of the platoon were cursing as loud as they could. The older members were whooping. Most of the Olod Guard - Crazy Aster, Dutch Sanol, Wolf McGraw, the squad leaders, and Gunny Calahan - simply sat silently.

"Brace! Incoming!" the coxwain shouted over the intercom. The shuttle suddenly shuddered with such force that PFC Kiowa, the new membersw of Sergeant Allen's assault team, vomited instantly.

"They're trying to hit the shuttles, but we're too fast!" the coxwain said, snickering.

After five more minutes of shouting and screaming, the automated female voice came back over the intercom. "Landing force, brace for braking thrusters."

"W-W-W-What?!" Rook yelled.

Suddenly, the shuttle jerked upwards with G forces almost equal to jettison, causing both PFC Dezzler, the new member of Sergeant Bradley's assault team, and Lance Corporal Connors, the new man who replaced now-Corporal Selucis in Sergeant McKnight's fire team, to vomit up their breakfast onto the floor of the shuttle.

"W-What t-the f-fuck w-was t-that?" asked Rook. The shuttle was still shaking, although not as violently as before.

"Y-You'll s-s-see!" Jason replied.

Less than a minute later, the voice came back over the intercom. "Landing force, brace for landing."

"Aw, FU-"

The shuttle jerked even more violently than before as it slammed into the ground. PFC Rook upchucked all over himself mid-sentence.

"HAHAHAHAHA! What'd I tell ya?! It was vomit, that's what it was!" Jason laughed heartily.

"Oi! Marines who lost their lunches, clean it up with the suction tubes!" Ben snapped.

"Everyone unlock!" Calahan ordered, slapping the central lock of his harness with his fist. It immediately unsnapped the entire harness, sliding back behind Calahan. "Everybody out! Out, now!"

OOC: And that's my description of experiencing a combat landing in a drop shuttle. Yay! I'll talk about what goes on on the outside next time!
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CHAPTER VII

Verdun Outskirts

"Jesus Christ, what the hell happened in there?" Rook asked.

"Hehe," Corporal LePallin chuckled. "Just the braking thrusters to slow our descent. If we'd hit the ground at the speed we'd been going, we'd've been killed almost instantly."

"It does play hell on your stomach. DIdn't you do a drop or two in Boot?" said Lance Corporal Cole.

"Yeah, but they were small-scale. Not fucking orbital," Rook replied.

"Shut it, Marines! Listen up!" Staff Sergeant Lee barked.

"Okay Marines, we're just outside the city! The second wave's comin' in within ten minutes, so we've got to 'secure' the area! Move into town and set up!" Calahan ordered.

"Does that mean Ares is comin' in?" Rook asked.

"Yeah. Don't sweat it," Cole said.

"Good. I hate that guy."

"We all do, Rookie. We all do."

----------------------------------------------------------

"Second Squad, set up in those buildings! Move!" Lee ordered, pointing at the nearby apartment building. They'd just entered the suburbs of the city of Verdun. The city was one of the numerous 'megalopolises' that dotted major planets of modern times. Most of World was made up of megalopolises, with some large areas reserved for food production.

"This is Two Charlie. We've got the second floor window. Eyes on the frontal approach," said Sergeant Allen.

"Roger that," said Sergeant Irick.

Sergeant Roland's team moved into the building and started to move to the windows, setting up firing positions. LePallin knocked over a table and dragged it over to one of the windows, giving himself some extra, if flimsy, cover.

"Eyes front, Marines. Second wave's coming in any second," Sergeant Roland said.

"Here they come!" Rook shouted.

The shuttles came down as almost a hundred miles per hour, slamming into the ground half a kilometer away, sending up a huge spurt cloud of dirt and dust. There were several dozen of them. Men started to pour out and move around the landing zones.

"So, when's the third wave comin' in?" Rook asked.

"As soon as possible, Rookie. The first wave shuttles have to RTB and reload. But I think they might use the-" Roland was cut off by Lance Corporal Cole.

"Yep. The pods are comin' down inside the city. THey must be taking a pounding up there," Cole said.

Looking up into the sky over the city, Rook saw at least a hundred small black pods - with more probably out of view - rain down into the streets, with smaller scale operations as with the shuttles. Nearby, one pod hit the street with a loud rumble, and a four-man fire team sprang out a few moments later.

"Okay, everyone stay sharp. We don't know if the rebel infantry is going to come down, but it could be any time. I'm activating the platoon beacon for Ares," Calahan's voice said on the comm.

"Delta One-Five, this is Delta One-Six. I see the beacon and I am moving to your location, over," Ares's voice said on the comm a minute later.

"Roger that, Delta One-Six. One-Five out. Okay Marines, hold up here 'til Ares gets here. He's got the orders."

---------------------------------------------------------

Twenty minutes later, Ares arrived at the building. "Knock knock," he said.

Lundy opened the door. "Well howdy, stranger! Sorry, we don't have no change fer ya!"

"Har har, Sergeant. Platoon Sergeant, status report!" Ares boomed, pushing past Lundy into the lobby.

Calahan walked out of the stairwell and approached his platoon commander. "We've secured this position, sir. No contact. Yet."

"By the book, Gunny. Here, I've got the orders. Lieutenant General Hans Bearing is in command here, he'll be landing with the third wave."

"Bearing? I've heard of him. He's a pogue."

"He does alright in the field. Anyways, Brigadier Wolfe has ordered the FIST to consolidate at Fort Morvan. The garrison divisions have already fanned out to secure most of the city, so we need to get the landing forces organized for a defense."

"How are they doing upstairs, sir?"

"Not so good. They've lost the Relentless and they had to scramble everything they had to get as many men on the ground as they could. They're running out of time."

"What about the reinforcement flotilla?"

"They haven't arrived yet, and may not come at all as far as I know. Let's get to the Fort and get organized. Platoon sergeant, assemble to platoon! Prepare to move out!"

"Aye, sir."

OOC: I don't plan on having the actual battle start for another two chapters. Just to let you know.
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CHAPTER VIII

Fort Morvan, Verdun

"Hello, Brigadiers Wolfe, Hansen. I am Major General Garrus Magorian, commander of Fort Morvan," said the general.

"Hello, sir," Brigadier Wolfe said, saluting.

"At ease, gentlemen. We're in a war zone, so no spit-and-polish reg shit here."

"Okay, General," Brigadier Hansen, commander of 38th FIST,said.

"Please, call me Garrus while we're here. Follow me," Magorian said, beckoning for them to follow him into the Command Center.

Inside, numerous staff officers and enlisted men worked on consoles and watched displays, each showing a specific part of the battle - intelligence, logistics, etc. Magorian led to them to a holo-display table showing the layout of the city.

"Okay, gentlemen, by division and Brigadier Hoffman's FIST have already fanned out to secure the most important areas of the city. Walter, highlight those areas, will you?"

One of the staff men flicked a switch, and many large swathes of the city were changed from a blue to a green glow.

"These four places - the megamarket, the ExtroCorp HQ, Broad Boulevard, and the base entrance - are the most important parts of the city. We hold these places and more, but we're spread thin. We need your FISTs on the perimeter - as far out as the megamarket and Independence Road, to fill in the gaps. The 21st Division, what's down already, will hold back in reserve, in case they decide to drop behind the perimeter. Wolfe, your Marines can take up positions in and around the market."

Wolfe nodded. "Sure thing, Garrus."

"Hansen, take your FIST and occupy any buildings lining Independence ROad. You two will have the MLR."

"Aye, Garrus."

"When is General Bearing and the 102nd coming down?" Wolfe asked.

"In moments. Comm traffic indicates that the fleet is pulling back to the far side of the planet momentarily, and is attempting to land as many troops as humanly possible right now."

"Damn."

"Get moving, dammit. We're running out of time."

----------------------------------------------------------------

"First Herd, gear up and stand up! We're moving out!" Calahan bellowed.

"Aw, man! I was just gettin' comfortable, too. Aw, fuck!" Rook said, rubbing his backside as he stood up. "Why does it hurt to stand up?!"

Corporal LePallin chuckled. "You dumbass. Mark III armor is a bitch on yer ass, so they tell you not to lay down. Most of us got ours modified by the QM while we on base sometime or another. If you're smart, you will too."

"Man, they don't fuckin' tell you anything about this shit in Basic!"

"Hey, they're supposed to teach you how to stay alive, not how to be comfortable," said Cole.

"Do you three ever shut up?! Get in formation!" Sergeant Roland snapped.

"Sorry, sarge," Cole said.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Where are we headed, Ares?" Alex asked.

"The megamarket, almost on the other side of the city. It's a major strongpoint in the defense, and it sits next to one of the largest underground tram stations," Ares responded.

"Any good for a defense?" Lee asked.

"I dunno. I don't have detailed schematics, just the layout of the surrounding area. I'll upload to your HUDs in a minute."

"Hey, we need to get moving. Those rebels'll be comin' down soon," said Ben.

"Alright. Let's move out."

-------------------------------------------------------------

Verdun Megamarket

The Verdun Megamarket was a huge, three-story structure that housed several hundred shops and stalls. It was a daunting task to defend it, so the entirety of Delta and Echo Companies were assigned to it, with Fox and Charlie Companies on and under the ground around it.

"First Squad, you're on the roof! Lee, take the third-story windows!" Ares ordered.

"There's a balcony on the second floor overlooking the main entrance, sir. I'll take Third Squad and cover from there," Gunny Calahan said.

"Alright, Wraith. Everyone get set up! Any second n-"

"Ensign Glystern, I've got a message for you from Six," said Sergeant Gorrion, one of Captain Ryan's runners, approaching.

"Yeah, what is it?" Ares said, impatiently.

"Uniform Six has given us some heavy machine guns for the defense, one per platoon. I've got yours here," Gorrion said, indicating the man behind him, carrying the weapon over his shoulders.

"Alright, run that up to my platoon sergeant and Third Squad, upstairs on that balcony there," Ares said, pointing up at said balcony.

"Okay, sir. Hank, go run it up there."

The Marines sighed. "Man, fuck you," he cursed, running off with the heavy weapon. Gorrion ran off, presumably back toward Ryan's command post in the rear of the market.

Ares opened the platoon channel. "Okay Marines, eyes skyward. I think the third wave's coming in now!"
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CHAPTER IX

Fort Morvan Command Center

Lieutenant General Hans Bearing strode into the Command Center, flanked by a pair of guards. Hans Bearing was a distinguished staff officer, but not in the field. He was renowned for his brilliant logistical capalbilities, but not his tactical prowess. But, being the highest-ranking Confederation officer on Verdun, he was in overall command of the operation.

"General," Major General Magorian said, walking up to shake his hand. "Glad to see you made it in okay."

"Major General, this is a command center, and as such I will see proper protocol. Stand at attention," Bearing snapped.

Magorian snapped to attention and saluted. "Aye, sir!"

"At ease. And yes, thank you for the greetings. It was quite a ride."

Magorian relaxed. "I've never done a combat landing, sir. I hear its a treat."

"Be glad you haven't. Okay, I need to know two things: One, the deployment of forces, and two, the amount of supplies we have for sustained operations," Bearing strode over to the holotable.

"Yes, sir. We have deployed 38th, 44th, and 94th FISTs, under the command of Brigadiers Hansen, Hoffman, and Wolfe, repsectively," Magorian said. THe three officers saluted casually as they bent over the table. "I have also deployed my own division to cover the city. We are holding the 21st Division in reserve for now, and are still awaiting the 102nd Division and 117th FIST. Current positions of our forces are highlighted in green on the map there."

"Is this real-time?"

"Yes, sir. We can switch to individual IFF beacons if you like."

"Not necessary. What about logistics?"

"We have enough supplies stored in the Fort for two months of siege."

"But that's for just the garrison. What about for the entirety of our deployed forces?"

"Errrr...We do not have any figures regarding those numbers, sir."

"I estimate we have three weeks worth of supplies for all of our forces, including the 102nd and 117th."

Magorian glanced uneasily at Brigadier Hoffman.

"No worries, gentlemen!" Bearing chuckled. "That's more than enough time for Fifth Fleet to assemble and crush the invaders! Now, may I speak to the men?"

"Er, yes, sir. We can open an all-hands comm channel."

"Then do it."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Bearing leaned down over the communications console and spoke in a clear, collected, powerful voice.

"Soldiers and Marines of the Confederation, this is your commanding officer speaking! I'll be honest with you - the Confederation fleet in orbit has retreated through PlaneSpace, most of their ships crippled. We are all alone here, wth dozens of Coalition ships and thousands of their rebel soldiers circling above like birds of prey!

"But we are not prey. We are predators! When those war hawks swoop down upon the surface of our planet, they shall see that we are not any meek field mouse, they will see that we have teeth! Show them here today, that we will not simply lie down and die!

"They expect a walkover on this planet, despite the reinforcements. They expect our Confederation to simply let them secede from our union! They expect us to let them blatantly attack us without provocation!

"But we will show them! We will show them that we will not quietly fade into oblivion! Show them that we will not simply lie down and be trampled, like a doormat! Show them, that if they want our planet, they will have to earn every inch in blood! Show them what to expect from all of our soldiers, all of our Marines, all of our planets!

"Take up your arms and make your bullets your voices! Cry out in one voice and tell them that they. Shall. Not. PASS!

"I wish you all the best of luck, and the blessing of the people of the Confederation. They shall not pass!"

Bearing straightened back up and stepped away from the communications terminal. Then the whole room burst into a standing ovation.

"Thank you, gentlemen, but now is not the time for praise and applause, now is the time to prepare for war! They will be landing their trecherous soldiers any minute now!" Bearing boomed.

"Here they come!" one of the sensor operators bellowed.

"Where?!" Brigadier Wolfe asked frantically.

"Everywhere! Hundreds, maybe thousands of pods!"

"But where?!"

"Inside the city!"

The room was silent for several seconds, then chaos erupted as men ran all about, trying to secure the situation.
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CHAPTER X

Verdun Megamarket

"Hey look! Pods, comin' down!" Barrett shouted, pointing at the drop pods raining down on the city.

"I don't think they're ours, kid," Calahan said.

"Why not?"

"They're coming down inside the city," Calahan turned around. "Ah, there's the gun," he said, walking back inside.

Barrett had a confused look on his face. "Hey Jason, what's so bad about comin' down in a city? Didn't we do that?"

"No, we came down in the suburbs. If you do a combat drop in a city, you might hit a building. At those speeds, the impact would kill you," said Jason.

"Oi, Jason! Shut up and grab this gun! Your team gets it!" Calahan shouted from inside.

"Okay, Boss! Mac, Tiduos, grab it and set it up!"

Corporal Tiduos nodded, and ran inside with Lance Corporal MacTavish. A few seconds later they walked back outside, heaving the gun, and clamped it to the balcony railing.

"Third Squad, take positions! Prepare for incoming!" Ben ordered.

A roaring whoosh! screeched through the air, followed shortly by a deafening crash! and the sound of crumbling ferrocrete.

"Whoashit! There goes one pod!" shouted PFC "Conk" Erer, chuckling.

There was another whoosh-crash!, then another, then another. Suddenly, a pod slammed into the ground on the street in front of the market. Then another tore through the face of one of the tall apartment buildings facing them. The sides of the one in the street exploded outwards, and four men jumped out.

"Open fire!" Calahan ordered. Rifles began cracking as the squad began to cut them down. The machine gun fired long bursts with a low riiiiiiiiiip!

Suddenly, there was another whoosh-crash!, followed by glass shattering, behind them.

"Shit, they landed inside! Wolf, check it out!"

"On it," Sergeant McGraw replied. "C'mon Selucis!"

Inside, Wolf and Selucis cautiously crept along the second-floor walkways, rifles trained on the stagnant pod. The walls exploded outward. One man facing them was slumped in his harness, dead from the impact.

"Tango!" Selucis shouted, firing a trio of shots. One man had unclipped his harness and fallen to the floor. Now he was dead.

"Another!" Wolf grunted. A second man had taken off running further into the market. "Cover me!" Wolf snapped, sprinting down the walkways after the man. He paused on an overhead bridge spanning the main floor, took aim, and pumped two shots into the man's back, killing him. Wolf glanced at the pod and looked it over, and saw that the last man was dead in his seat.

"Clear!"

-----------------------------------------------------------

On the roof, First Squad could see the furthest down all three streets that met in front of the mall. Lundy peered down the scope of his long-range rifle. "I see two, maybe three dozen men forming up three blocks down," he said. "Team, drop prone." Lundy and his men flattened, lying on their bellies.

"Delta One-Six, this is One-One. Sighted two, possibly three, squads of tangoes three blocks down at twelve 'o' clock, over," Alex said on the comm.

"Roger that, One-One. Just stay calm and hang tight. We'll win this day. Out."

--------------------------------------------------------------

The pods were still coming down, just like the sprinkling rain.

WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!

The walls of the pods flew outward, and the men inside leapt out and dashed for cover.

"Contact! Ten 'o' clock!" Jason yelled, pointing at a team of men running into a building. Tiduos swung the machine gun around and sprayed the area, catching one of them in the back.

WHUMP!

"Two 'o' clock!" Jason yelled, pointing at the newly-landed pod. He raised his rifle and took aim.

BOOM!

An explosion ripped through part of the ferrocrete railing, knocking Jason backwards onto the floor.

"Sarge!" Barrett cried, running to where his team leader lay.

"'M alright! I'm alright! Damn 'crete' cracked my visor. Help me up!"

Barrett grabbed Jason's arm and hauled him to his feet. A flying piece of ferrocrete had smashed into his visor, leaving a deep, cracked dent.

"Three Charlie, this is One Alpha. I saw that, it looked ugly. You alright?" came Lundy's voice on the comm.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. No hits."

"I got the fucker. Grenadier. Good luck down there. Out."

"C'mon, Johnny! We'll hold them yet!"

In the sky, thunder cracked. Sheets of rain started pouring down.
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CHAPTER XI

Verdun Megamarket

Alex wiped the rain that blurred his vision from his visor and peered out into the night-shrouded city street using his light amplifiers. The rebels had several squads, maybe a couple of companies dug in in front and ahead of them, all meaning to take the market. Half the platoon remained awake, watching for any sign of movement while the others slept. Alex raised his rifle and fired two shots.

"Got one. Dumb bastard stuck his head up on the ground," he said.

"Nice," said Lundy. Then Lundy squinted and raised his own rifle to his shoulder. "Wait. Movement, at those windows," he said, pointing at the windows on the third story of the apartment building across the street, just below them and barely visible through the sheets of rain.

"I got 'em," Aster whispered. "Thaya movin' tard the stayas, left corner. The ahty exposed 'em."

"Okay. Hey, Dezzler, Padrino, get over here," Alex ordered. PFC Dezzler and Lance Corporal Padrino, two of the other Marines on watch, crawled over.

"Yeah, sarge?" Padrino asked.

"Everyone, watch those stairs over there," Alex said, pointing at the stairwell, exposed to their view since an artillery shell blew out the wall concealing it earlier that afternoon. "Lundy, watch the tangoes."

Lundy nodded, then peered back through the scope of his rifle.

"Got 'em," Aster said. "Thaya movin' oop now."

"Fire."

Alex, Aster, Padrino, and Dezzler all fired several quick, accurate shots into the shadows moving up the stairs. Lundy squeezed off a shot.

"That's it. I don't see any more," said Lundy.

"Okay," Alex checked the time. "Okay, the next shift starts in ten minutes. Don't slack off before then."

------------------------------------------------------------

"HERE THEY COME!"

Erikson awoke with a start and instantly jumped to his feet, grabbing his rifle. Lundy and Corporal Carr were at the edge of the roof, firing down into the road.

"Dutch, shift fire right! Tangoes!" Alex ordered.

Dutch swung his rifle around and began firing at a squad moving up the road to their right. There was little cover on that street aside from some random rubble.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Two floors down, Corporal Tiduos and Lance Corporal MacTavish continued to rake the buildings across the street with their machine gun.

"Watch it! Four tangoes, two 'o' clock!" Ben shouted, pointing. Sergeant McKnight's team immediately concentrated their fire on the four men, cutting them down. Suddenly, the balcony exploded next to Lance Corporal McAllister. He grunted and clutched his chest as he fell to the floor.

"Man down, man down!" Corporal Selucis shouted. He and Conk grabbed McAllister by the arms and dragged him inside, laying him flat next to the wall. "Corpsman, up!"

Corporal Goldstein runshed over within seconds. He crouched down and looked him over, then reached down and yanked a sizeable piece of shrapnel out of McAllister's chest plate.

"He's alright, but that might leave a nasty bruise," Goldstein said.

"Meeerg..." McAllister groaned.

"Shuddup, you," Goldstein said. He promptly jumped up and shot off.

"Jesus, it's true. Medics can teleport," Conk said.

Selucis hauled McAllister to his feet and brushed the dust off him, then thrust his rifle into his hand. "Get back in the fight, kid."

----------------------------------------------------------

"So, where are they now?" Calahan asked.

"In Hell, Boss," Lundy responded, ejecting a spent round from his long-ranger.

"Exactly as I expected. Carry on, sergeant."

Lundy nodded to himself and switched off the comm channel. Raising his rifle to his shoulder and peering down the scope, he fired a single shot, sending a man flying back, dead.

"Woah, sarge! Nice shot! Did you see his helmet go flipping up?!" Carr cheered.

"Thanks, Dave. I have to admit, that's never happened to me before." Lundy took aim again and squeezed off another shot.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Grenade out!" Specialist Costigan, Outer Colonial Coalition Army, shouted, standing up to fling a hand grenade over the wall of rubble he and his comrades hid behind. Suddenly, his head jerked back and he fell back onto the ground, his helmet spinning up in a neat arc before landing just in front of Corporal Mulligan behind him.

"Christ," Mulligan muttered. "Stay down, you idiots!"

Private Nuskra rose his head and rifle slightly over the rubble, peeking over to look for a target. Not a second later, blood spurted out of the back of his head as he twitched and also fell back.

"OI!" Mulligan shouted, grabbing Private Jorrath's collar and pulling him back. "Stick yer head up and you die, you idiot! Wait." Mulligan turned to Corporal Salas. "Hey, Frank!"

"It's Francisco, you ass!" Salas shouted. "What do you want, Herbert?"

"Can you put some goddamn fire on them?! I've lost three guys here!"

"What d'ya 'spect me to do? I've lost one man, too!"

"Just shoot at 'em, dammit! I think I know how to finish this!"

"Fine!"

OOC: Been quite a delay for this one, but I haven't had a burst of inspiration lately. I know what I want to do, but not how/when I want to do it.
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CHAPTER XII

Verdun Megamarket

"Whoa!" Corporal Tiduos shouted, swinging the machine gun around to rip a burst across the rubble hiding the new shooters.

Above, Sergeant Irick spotted a trio of men running down the street, through the rubble, and opened fire. A burst of fire sent dust and bits of 'crete into Irick's face, harmlessly pinging off his visor. It momentarily startled him, and he shifted fire to where the burst had come from. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the previous group dashing across the street, so he swung around again and fired a trio of shots into the last man.

-------------------------------------------------------

Private Tolliver faceplanted into the street, three bullets sinking into his torso with sickening thunks.

"Shit!" Mulligan swore, slamming against the wall. Hidden from view of the balcony by a support column, Mulligan peered out to look up at the Confederation soldiers with the machine gun above.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Jason, it's Mike. You've got a couple tangoes who just got across the street to your left."

"Roger that," Jason replied. Jason swiftly turned and leveled his rifle on the railing, watching the sidewalk intently. A face appeared, and he instantly fired.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Mulligan jerked back his head just before the soldier's rounds sprayed dust and chips of 'crete into his face. "Fuck!" he swore. Slinging his rifle, Mulligan yanked a hand grenade off his belt. "Jorrath, toss a grenade!" he whispered.

"Are you insane?"

"I'll throw this one at you if ya don't!"

He heard the clink of a pin being pulled, then saw Jorrath turn out from his cover and heave the traditional ball-shaped frag grenade up towards the balcony. The soldier above instantly opened fire, and Jorrath screamed and fell back onto the wall as his leg gave way.

"Awwww, fuck! I'm hit!" Jorrath cursed.

Before the soldier could redirect his attention, Mulligan darted out and threw his own grenade.

---------------------------------------------------------

Another man popped out, his arm moving. Jason shifted his aim to f-

BOOM!

"Whoa!" Jason jerked back as dust and 'crete shot up from just below as the grenade exploded. It has obviously fallen sh-

BOOM!

The second explosion reverberated from directly behind Jason, throwing him forward and nearly over the railing. Grabbing the railing, Jason could barely see or hear a thing, but he nonetheless leveled his rifle, firing it blindly with its muffled cracks.

He felt something tap his shoulder. Turning around, he faced the faceless, opaque visor of one of his fellow Marines. But that was it. He raised his hand to the side of his head and slapped his helmet a few times.

"-right?"

Jason slapped it again.

"Yo...kay?"

Jason moved his mouth, but no sound came out. The Marine...Barrett?...waved for someone to come over. A Marine with a small red cross on his helmet rushed over and knelt down beside them, obviously Corporal Goldstein or Kindret. Both Marines continued to stare at him, probably trying to talk to him. Jason moved his mouth, soundlessly again.

"-kay!" Barrett said, shoving Jason against the wall and taking up his position. Jason sat against the wall and listenedas his hearing started to warp. He started to hear muffled sounds - explosions, voices.

"Jason, come in here with me," the medic said, tapping him on the shoulder. Jason crawled along the wall into the hallway. Inside, the medic took off both of their helmets. Jason's eyes were wide, darting all around rapidly. Looking at the medic - Corporal Kindret - he could see his lips moving but could barely hear him.

"You're deaf, mate. Stay hear and wait a few minutes. Other than that I think you're fine," Kindret's muffled voice said. Kindret fastened both of their helmets back on, tapped Jason on the head, and rushed back off. Looking across the way, Jason could see Corporal Goldstein working on someone lying on the floor. Blood was starting to pool around his feet.

--------------------------------------------------------

The fire on Mulligan's position only intensified after a brief period of solace. Mulligan grabbed the radio on his vest. "Jesus Christ, help us out here!" he yelled into it frantically.

"Is that you, Mulligan?" came the familiar voice of Sergeant Bayou, Mulligan's squad leader.

"Fuck yeah, it is! We're just below that damn balcony, to the right of it! Put some goddam fire on 'em, for fuck's sake!"

"I'll get some, Corporal. And CALM DOWN. Out."

Several floors above the ground, in one of the apartment buildings across the street, a squad of Coalition soldiers crept toward the edge of the roof.

"Grenadiers, load," the squad leader ordered. Most of his men checked the underslung grenade launchers attached to their rifles, then gave a thumbs up.

"Okay. Take aim, and fire!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Crack!

Lundy ejected another spent round from the long-ranger, then grabbed another clip form his belt and slapped it in. He took aim at one of the windows across the-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Chunks of the rooftop sprang up with the explosions all around Lundy and his squadmates, sending several men already into a crouch flying back to the floor.

"Grenades up top! Building across the street! Fighting withdrawal, back inside the building! MOVE!" Alex's voice bellowed over the comm. Lundy immediately rose to a crouch and shifted his aim almost directly upwards, toward the roof of the apartment building almost ten stories up.

Sergeant Bradley's assault team dashed across the rooftop into the doorway and stairwell, bounding down the stairs to the floor below. Lundy methodically picked off men leaning over the railing of the rooftop above, firing down on them with grenade launchers, as his remaining squadmates fired upwards wildly.

"Dutch, MOVE!" Alex barked. Sergeant Sanol's team stood up and followed Bradley's assault team down. Lundy and his team continued to keep up the fire.

"Lundy, MOVE!"

Corporal Carr and Erikson stood up and dashed for the door, with Aster moving back slowly at a crouch. Lundy continued to take aim and pick off enemy soldiers.

"Lundy, I said MOVE!"

Lundy fired off one last shot and blinked, snapping out of his tunnel vision. He suddenly became aware of the grenade explosions all around him. Jumping up he dashed for the door and almost fell on top of his teammates at the bottom of the stairwell. Alex lastly darted in and slammed the steel door behind him.

"This is One-One! We've withdrawn from our position due to heavy grenade fire! We've got grenadiers on the roof of the building at eleven 'o' clock!"

"Roger that. One-Two'll take 'em," Lee replied.

Alex jumped down the stairs and grabbed Lundy by the back of the neck, forcing to walk with him, albeit awkwardly and stooped. "Sergeant, when I say 'move,' you MOVE!" he yelled.

"Ow, Jesus! I got it, sarge! I got it!"

Alex pulled Lundy back upright and released him, running down the hallway to join Lee's squad in the room ahead. Lundy looked down at his left arm, which was in intense pain. There was a jagged shard of shrapnel embedded in his arm, which had pierced right through his thin arm plate. As he tried to touch, the pain spiked, forcing his hand back.

"'Ere, sahge. Ay goot it," Aster said. Aster grabbed it and yanked it out with one swift pull.

"ARRRGH!" Lundy grunted loudly. He clutched his arm tightly.

"Ya betta put a Patch on it, sahge," Aster said, giving a casual two-fingered salute and jogging off.
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Preparing for the Second Coming
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
CHAPTER XIII

Command Center, Fort Morvan

"Sir..." General Magorian said, watching the holodisplay. "I don't think we can hold this line, at least not with sustainable losses?"

General Bearing turned from a communications console to face Magorian and look over the display again. "Oh really, Major General? I said that we would make them PAY for every inch of ground they take, and I plan on following through with that promise!"

Brigadier Wolfe stood upright and walked over to the two men. "Sir, General Magorian is right. We cannot afford projected losses if we continue to hold this line. We must fall back to a more easily defensible position."

"And what do you propose an 'easily defensible' position is, Brigadier? What do you suppose 'sustainable' losses are? Any losses against the traitorous enemy are acceptable in the name of liberty."

"But, sir, we have overextended ouselves. We have to pull in the perimeter to make it stronger. They can easily break through at several places in this thin line with the amount of troops they have already deployed, and continue to deploy. If we pull back and make the perimeter smaller, the line stronger, we can force them to bloody themselves in futile offensive assaults."

Bearing squinted and studied the display intently, then stood upright and stroked his chin. "I see your point, Brigadier. Major General, what is the status of our combat engineer units?"

Magorian raised an eyebrow. "What do the combat engineers have to do with this, sir?"

"Do not question my questions, answer them."

"Err, they currently are equipped with the standard field loadout, as expected, sir."

"What about blast charges?"

Magorian looked more confused than ever. "We have a large supply here in the Fort, sir. But I fail to see the current necessity for-"

"Equip the engineers with a full loadout of chain blast charges immediately."

"And the purpose of this is...?"

"Take a look, gentlemen," Bearing leaned back over the display. "If we are to make the best use of our defensive positions, we will need to fortify them. It is quite hard to dig trenches into solid ferrocrete, so we will simply blast fighting positions into the ground."

Wolfe smirked. Magorian still looked somewhat confused. "Gentlemen, the best way to defend every inch of territory in this city is to have consistent, fortified fallback positions, meaning, lines of trenches. We'll make this Verdun as much a Hell for the Coalition as the Imperium made it for the Allies."

"I'll get right on it, sir."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Verdun Megamarket

"Dezzler! Oi, Dezzler!" Sergeant Bradley shouted over the din of combat. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Private Dezzler was leaning out the window to fire down at enemy troops. Bradley walked over, grabbed him by the back of the collar, and hauled him back in. "What?! What?! What'd I do?!"

"What the fuck are you doing, leaning out the window like that?"

"I can't get good shots on them tangoes on the ground, so I leaned out to get a better shot!"

"You're gonna get yourself killed, exposin' yerself like that. If they don't shoot you next time you do that, I might. Clear?!"

"Yes, sarge."

"Good, now get back to business."

"Hey Lee! Hey, Lee!" Alex shouted. Lee did not respond. He walked up and slapped him on the back of the helmet, causing him to twitch, startled, and leap back almost a foot.

"Jesus Christ, Alex! Don't fucking do that, you dumbass!" Lee yelled.

"Yeah, we're here. 'Thanks, Alex!'"

"Shut up."

"We'll help cover from here. The roof is too exposed right now. Lundy, get your-"

BOOM!

Alex staggered back from the blast as a grenade slammed into the wall.

"One-One, this is One-Five. Can you get those god damned grenadiers, please?" Calahan muttered over the comm.

"Yeah, yeah, One-Five. Lundy, can you get an angle?"

Lundy crouched and aimed upwards, out the window. "Not a good one, sarge." Lundy fired several shots up towards the grenadiers still on the roof of the apartment building. "I can't get 'em all."

"Well, get what you can, then."

"Sure thing, sarge."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip cha-cha-chink!

"Belt's dry!" Corporal Tiduos shouted.

"'Ere, I got anudder one," Mac said, pulling another belt of ammunition from around his shoulders. He fed it into the machine gun, and Tiduos cocked it again.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!

BOOM!

Calahan staggered back from the force of the explosion. "God damn it, One-One! We're catchin' hell here!" Calahan shouted into the comm, holding his hand out in frustration.

"Well, Five, we're trying the best we can, but we can't get a fuckin' angle!"

"Do what it takes, then! We can't hold an exposed position much-" Suddenly, a spherical Coalition hand grenade, by sheer chance, landed in Calaahn's outstretched, open hand.

"Fuck!" he grunted, heaving it over the side. It exploded a second later, staggering him again.

"You alright, Five?"

"Yeah, yeah. Delta One-Six, this is Delta One-Five. We've got tangoes moving across the street in force. We can't hold 'em a whole lot longer without more support, over."

"Roger that, One-Five. Delta Two is moving up to support you. Out," Ares replied.

"Roger-"

BOOM!

Something big hit the wall next to the entrance into the mall, sending Conk flying backwards, shrapnel studding against his armor.

"'M 'right! I'm alright!" he grunted.

"Shit! What was that?!" Corporal Selucis shouted.

"Armor! Armor armor armor!" Deadhead bellowed.

"Everyone fall back inside!" Calahan ordered, beckoning for everyone to follow. "One-Six, this is One-Five. We've got two, maybe three armored units advancing up the street. We are pulling back, over."

"Roger that, One-Five. Delta Two will relieve you. Pull back to secondary positions."

"Roger that. One-One, One-Two, this is One-Five. Pull back to secondary positions, over."

"Roger that."

----------------------------------------------

"Okay, that's it. Everyone, pack up and fall back! MOVE!" Lee ordered.

"First Squad, cover!" Alex ordered. Lee and his squad pulled back into the mall while Alex's squad covered them.

BOOM!

The shell tore a massive hole in the wall, sending Dutch and Corporal Mannerheim flying back. Lance Corporal Shert and PFC Dezzler moved forward to cover their withdrawal.

"First Squad, fall back!" Alex ordered.

Lundy and his team immediately dashed back into the mall. "Oi, Dezzler! Get yer ass back in here!" Bradley shouted.

"Wait! We got a great shot on the lead tank from here!" Dezzler said, leaning out the window and firing.

"I don't care, dumbass! C'mon!"

"Ok-"

A whine of metal on metal screeched, and Dezzler's head jerked up slightly. He fell forward, slumped over the window frame.

"SHIT!" bradley lunged forward and grabbed Dezzler by the collar, dragging his body deeper into the megamarket.
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Preparing for the Second Coming
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
CHAPTER XIV

Verdun Megamarket

"Okay, tactical plan," Ares said, senior sergeants gathered around him. "Lailan won't be able to hold the line long without prepared positions, so we have to blunt this assault here. Alex, group together the assault teams and position them on the upper walkways, here."

Alex nodded. "On it."

"Ben, Lee, take your fire teams and set them up further down, around that bend in the hallway. Wraith, you take Alex's fire teams for now."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, let's haul ass."

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Tim, grab the HAW. We're the front team, so we get the heavy weapons," said Sergeant Bradley.

"Sure thing, sarge," Corporal LeFaye said, crouching behind the railing of the overbridge and unslinging the tube.

"Mauve, you and I will cover. Get down back here."

""Sure," said Lance Corporal Shert, also crouching down.

"Charlie teams, this is One-One. Delta Two is falling back, with three armored units moving toward your position. Stay low and hold fire. Remember the plan," Alex said over the comm.

"Roger that. We already hear 'em," said Jason's voice.

Indeed, there was a great rumbling and many loud crashes in the distance, likely the tanks attempting to navigate the hallway. Bradley tightened his grip on his rifle.

Sure enough, a tank appeared, rumbling on towards the overbridge. Another appeared behind it, then another.

"Steady, steady," Alex breathed. "Flank teams, FIRE!"

A second later, Corporal Tiduos and Lance Corporal LeGrand popped up on opposite sides above the hall, firing LAWs at the two rear tanks.

"Tangoes! I got 'em!" Shert shouted, running off the bridge to engage some enemies in a nearby stairwell.

"Brad, fire!"

Bradley and LeFaye popped up, aiming the HAW just below the turret of the lead tank.

Click

LeFaye paused for a second, then began rapidly pressing the trigger in panic.

"Come on come on come on! MOTHERFUCKER!" LeFaye swore. The tank elevated its cannon to aim up at the bridge. Instantly, LeFaye turned and shoved Bradley over the railing.

BOOM!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The bridge shattered to pieces with the shell's impact, and two LAW rockets slammed into the back of the tank a moment later. Sergeant Bradley landed painfully onto the floor, glass and duralumin fragments from the bridge showering him. As he rose to his feet, infantry appeared behind the three flaming wrecks. Bullets hissed on Bradley's heels as he made a mad dash for cover, diving through a nearby shop window.

"Charlie teams, this is One-One. What the fuck happened? Over."

"Targets are down, but something happened to One Charlie. The tank blew their position, over," came Jason's voice.

"Fucking hell! Charlie teams, fall back."

"Roger that, already moving. Be advised that enemy infantry are inbound, over."

"Roger that."

Bradley drew his sidearm and cocked the slide. Standing up, he fired several shots into the advancing soldiers, which was immediately answered by a whirlwind of rounds, spinning and snagging into the walls and displays. Bradley quickly turned and barged through a door into another shop, which he dashed through and crashed through another window to land within a market plaza.

"Hey, get the fuck over here!" someone in armor shouted, beckoning. Bradley quickly dashed for the position and rolled over the planter they were using as cover.

"Brad? That you?" the Marine - Deadhead - asked.

"Fuck yeah, it's me!" Bradley panted.

"Why the fuck you down here?"

"Hear that damn explosion, Deadhead? Big boom and everything? Kinda hard to miss, but maybe your ears are as thick as your head."

"Here they come! Shut up and shoot!" Sergeant McKnight shouted, firing. Deadhead and Bradley aimed up over the planter, Bradley drawing his submachine gun, and pumped rounds into the advancing soldiers.

"This is Two Charlie. We're...having some problems soon, over," came Sergeant Allen's voice on the comm.

"This is One-One. Three Charlie will move to support, over."

"Errrr...we are not in any immediate danger of being overrun, One-One, only imminent, over."

"Say again, Two Charlie. Understandably. Over."

"We have several companies of enemy soldiers converging on our positions, over."

There was a pause on the comm traffic amongst the platoon. AAfter almost a minute of comm silence, with gunfire continuing to rattle and crack all around, the comm crackled again. "This is Delta One-Six. One-One, pull back Charlie Element. Delta One, fall back according to Contigency Bravo, over."

"Roger that."

Sergeant McKnight tapped Bradley on the back of the helmet. "C'mon, Paul, let's go! Everyone, move!"

McKnight, Bradley, and the rest of McKnight's team dashed, crouching low, across the plaza and into one of the nearby hallways, setting up within a barricaded shop. "Okay, Paul. You should probably find the rest of your team, man."

"B-but, I've only got one man," Bradley said flatly.

McKnight and his men fell completely silent for several seconds. "Well...well, you should get him regrouped immediately nevertheless. You don't want to lose another man, do you, Paul?"

"N-no."

"Then pull yourself together and find him!"

Bradley nodded and opened a comm channel. "This is One Charlie Actual. One Charlie, regroup."

"Jesus, Brad! Where the fuck are you?!" came Lance Corporal Shert's voice.

Alex cut in. "Use proper radio procedure, Marine. One Charlie, report the fuck in!"

"This is One Charlie. Got another KIA, Corporal Tim LeFaye, over."

There was silence for several seconds. "Roger that, Charlie. Fall back and regroup on my position, over."

"Roger that, One-One."

----------------------------------------------------------

The bullet clipped the running soldier across the chin, sending a small spray of blood spurting out. The man continued to run for a second, then fell to the floor like a rag doll.

"Nice shot, sarge!" Erikson praised.

"Thanks, Idiot," Lundy said, cocking another round into the chamber.

"Watch it, two tangoes moving right," Corporal Carr warned, pivoting to pump fire into the two soldier darting for the shop across the way.

"Tangas, toop!" Aster shouted, immediately aiming up at a pair o shooters on the second floor, dropping them both with two shots each. Lundy cocked another round into the chamber.

"They'll never be able to keep this bullshit up! Not with us here!" Lundy cheered.

"You hear that, you fucks?! You shall not pass! Not with the Marines holding the line!" Carr jeered, continuing to return disciplined fire.

"Quit yer cheering and look up! TANGOES!" Sanol cut into the comm suddenly, following by two distinct bursts of gunfire.

"Tangas, up on theh roof!" Aster shouted, instantly changing position to aim upwards.

At least a squad of enemy soldiers ringed the shattered skylight above the hall, firing down inside eratically. Sanol and his team were already frantically returning fire.

"This is One-Five. One-One, fall back, over."

"Roger that," Sanol replied, followed by Lundy. Both teams immediately made mad dashes from their positions back to the designated regroup point.

"This is One-Six," Ares interrupted. "Delta One, fall back now. I say again, Delta One, fall back now! We have incoming in one zero mike!"

OOC: Sorry for the lack of updates in a WHILE, but I've been falling prone to my most dread anti-writing time enemies - online cooperative gaming and "flashforwarding"
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