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Futuristic ℋ℮їґṧ: SIGMA (Sci-Fi/Powers/Interstellar Warfare RP)

Joachim

"Adrian, just called the pilot, he's got it ready, but word has it more troops are headed toward the hangar! He's got 3 Fireteams stationed at the hangar with him, but I don't think they'll last long! I think they're trying to cut us off!" I said into my general comms, after contacting the old pilot.

As I load a new magazine into my Strajk, I take note of my right hand. It's been pulsating blue erratically ever since I woke up. And aside from the headache I got from knocking my forehead against the floor, I also have this... mental uncertainty. It's like something's wrong. I don't know what, or who, or where, or when. I just know, something's wrong. Is it me?

Anyway, I continued fighting, providing blind cover fire for other members of Fireteam Comet, as well as the girls, to move. I spot the crackling of crystal bolts and holo-bolts above, in the catwalks and platforms. Carlie's holding his own, although he's gonna get left behind if he stays there any longer.

"Carl! Get down here, we're shipping out!" I yelled to him, as Parkins runs past me, firing his rifle in bursts before firing at the other Smierc troopers in the T-Corridor. Dav also moves up, and quickly throws a grenade to the right, before crouching and firing half his magazine to the left.

Miller has decided that she will do best if she fights on the front lines, and she moves along with Fireteam Comet, fighting with Parkins, especially. They exchange a little 'hey' as a barrage of crystal bolt fire forces both of them into cover. She's strange. I haven't seen her use her powers once during the entire fight. Come to think about it, I don't remember her using her powers at all. There's something familiar about her name, though.

"Booster Packs, you say? Well, go on ahead, I don't think we have those! Would be nice to create a second flank to hit these guys from for us!" I replied to Adrian.

Perambulation Perambulation (edited Miller into it since LoneSniper's busy)
 
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Katherine

I got on fours again and shifted again, leaving me with a itchy sensation which I mentally pushed aside, before running into the T-corridor, making for the right after Daelen's grenade exploded, which knocked down a few Berserker and critically injured most of the Knights. I pounced on one, clamping my teeth, and started to pry off their helmet, and ripped out their neck instead. The fluid trickled onto my tongue, leaving a very bitter, but similar taste to blood.

"Oh god, they taste terrible." I mumbled, spitting out the flesh and black fluid from my mouth before spinning around to club another Berserker back down and breathing a stream of fire on it. For good measure, I tore out its throat to prevent revival. There's no way they can survive without their throat, right...?

Thoughts came to mind if they did survive, but were quickly pushed aside before I could get bloodthirsty.
 
DM

"Fireteam Crusader, coming in to save your sorry butts!"
, shouted an unknown voice over the comms.

Sure enough, a Sabre Corps Fireteam of 5 members burst into the ranks of the Mortus Troopers, throwing the enemy ranks into chaos as they try to deal with the newfound Silentian troops. Fireteam Crusader's leader, Captain Matthew Opulus, activates his own Silentian power of cement-manipulation, creating large walls of cement to close out certain areas and throw other Smierc troops into the air. With that said, the walls of cement manage to clear a path for the Sabre Corps strike team to make their way to the hangar.

"Alright Fireteam Omaha, Fireteam Nexus, and Fireteam Comet, let's move! I heard your dropship is waiting for you guys out in that hangar. We'll provide the covering fire while retreating with y'all, so don't worry about us!", shouted Captain Opulus once more over the comms network.

Sure enough, Fireteam Crusader quickly too defensive positions to more readily defend the retreating Silentians from the incoming onslaught of enraged Smierc troops.


Adrian

Oh goodness, the cavalry is here. I did receive an update over the tactical battle network (TBN) that there should be some reinforcements to help our strike team evacuate the flagship, but I didn't expect the famed Fireteam Crusader to come to our aid. Fireteam Crusader's been known to be the best in what most would call suicide missions, even for the Sabre Corps, and doing beyond what the mission even called for.

Of course, the members of Fireteam Crusader may be all a bit loony in the head, but that's the cost for having such a daring team.

"Roger that Fireteam Crusader. It's an honor to be covered by you, over.", I say over the comms as I lead Fireteam Nexus into then hangar, finally seeing the dropship that Joachim talked about.
 
"Welcome Cavalry!" I say into the comms, as I quickly pop up to put two rounds into a Mortus, dropping him. I then moved with Parkins to the Hangar, the way finally cleared. I hopped into the transport, staying by the door and keeping a sight on our behind in case and more reinforcements decide to drop by. I opened up a private line to Jao quickly and said to him, "We need to talk in private when we get back to base." Afterward I went back to open comms as if I had said nothing, keeping my aim steady on the door.

(Thanks Kabboom Kabboom for covering for me)
 
Katherine

'An honor to be covered by you?' What? Is this some prestigious team or something? I tailed Ashley to the transport door.

"Thanks for the cover, Crusaders. We appreciate the assistance. Just make it back okay." We passed, literally, thousands of corpses covered the hangar floor, human and alien alike, making me feel slightly uneasy.

When we reached the transport, Ashley fell off of the public communication channel for a moment, saying something that I couldn't quite hear over the sound of gunfire, before returning. I couldn't help but wonder what she was saying.

(Not much of a post, sorry -.-)
 
Joachim

Woah, the Fireteam Crusader guys are here? That's so fucking cool. I've heard a few decent stories about these guys, from the Twisted Wolves who fought alongside them, or fought against them, on their previous missions. From what I've heard, they're tough. Real tough.

I still think Fireteam Comet is better, though.

As we move under Fireteam Crusader's covering fire, Miller opens a private channel to me. "We need to talk in private when we get back to base," She said. I looked at her, puzzled, but then she acted like she didn't say anything at all. Okay...? After that, she got onto our little rust bucket, with the old pilot scrambling into the cockpit.

I decide that Fireteam Comet will aid the Crusaders one last time. And besides, the other members, Katherine, and Fireteam Nexus, they need time to cram themselves on the airborne Swiss cheese block. Fireteam Comet is ordered to stand their ground, taking cover behind whatever piece of metal or Whatever-this-shit-is-ium that can block crystal bolts and began providing cover fire for Fireteam Crusader, as a fresh wave of Smierc troopers enter from one of the other entrances into the hangar.

"If we're gonna go, it's about now, people!" I yelled into my comms, trying desperately to fire my Strajk in bursts. The amount of fire that Comet's putting out is immense, but I don't know if it's enough to cover Crusader's retreat.
 
DM

Fireteam Crusader quickly notices that the Sabre Corps strike team is mostly onboard their extract vehicle by this point, with only Fireteam Comet providing the Crusaders with covering fire of their own. With that in mind, Captain Matthew Opulus sends out an order for the Fireteam to start their own evacuation, as the New Kronan Defense Fleet is already beginning to engage the Smierc attack fleet.

"Thanks for the assist Fireteam Comet. Now let's get out of here, over.", radioed in Captain Opulus to Joachim.


Adrian

Finally, our small Sabre Corps strike team manages to escape the doomed Smierc Collective flagship. I have Noa check the status on the planted explosives, and it seems that some of the charges were taken care of by the Smiercs. Still, about 90% of the explosives are online, and that's enough to take the reactor down and start a massive chain reaction of explosions.

( Kabboom Kabboom , I'm gonna have to have you start the dropship leaving the ship, since it's your character)
 
I watched more Smierc roll in through where we just came out. It looks like they failed to intercept us, but that doesn't mean they won't stop. When do they? I aimed my M1911 with one hand as I kept my other on a railing to steady myself and took careful shots, trying to either take out those with low Bio-fields or lower them to the point where the kill zones being set up will take them out. A stray shot whizzes into the opening and pokes a hole straight through the wall behind me, leaving a nice little hole in the hull. "Come on, pack it up! We need to move before we get burdened!" I shouted.
 
Joachim

It was high time we left. I gave a nod to the Fireteam Crusader leader, and systematically retreated Fireteam Comet back into the space-faring scrap pile. Davo hops into the shuttle first, maneuvering into the cockpit, setting things up as co-pilot. As Parkins provides cover fire for me to run at max speed towards the shuttle, I could see the others getting as well. Miller firing her modernized 1911, Katherine hopping on and providing fire with her sniper rifle, John getting a boost up from Danny.

I hop onto the craft, standing by the door, near Miller, doing basically the same thing she's doing. I put my hand on the door, and put myself in a sort of crouching stance, firing in support of Fireteam Nexus, who have finally gotten on to the rust bucket. Davo comes up on my comms. The engines begin whirring to life, as Fireteam Crusader still remains behind. Do they have an extraction? Or is this where they end?

"Dav 'ere. This thing's got too many holes to be pressurized, all of ya, make sure you've got your oxygen! We'll go at top speed, so here's hoping we make it!" The shuttle rises, its jet pressure blasting away a few Smierc corpses near it. I remained at my post, firing at the Smierc group, when I spot a Mortus Trooper move up with what looks to be an RPG. A Fireteam Crusader member quickly puts fire on him, depleting his Bio-Field, and apparently wounding his arm right when he squeezed the trigger, causing the projectile to veer off course. But it's a lock-on missile.

"RPG!" I yelled, as I ducked inside, extending my left arm to cover Miller. The missile does a tight turn, but its flight surfaces are not strong enough, and so it detonates very close to us, almost directly outside the door, littering the insides with shrapnel. Thankfully, this was a more anti-vehicle projectile, and the crystal shrapnel was mostly focused to the front. We were littered with shrapnel nonetheless.

As I opened my eyes, I could see pieces of shrapnel in my armor. Blood is not visible, and my IRESS is still up, albeit clinging on to its last ounces of energy. Miller is mostly unscathed, strangely enough. It seems what little shrapnel was intended for her landed on my left arm. I could see the blood slightly trickling down my forearm. Ouch.

The shuttle began stuttering, its engine smoking. I could hear pained shouts on the comms. Dav opens his channel and, through some grunting and yells to put pressure on the wound, he talks to me. I could just barely make out his words due to the ringing in my ears. "The old geezer's hit! I'll have to fly this thing! Hold on!"

In the most awkward fashion, the shuttle did a left turn. It turned down for a moment, but Dav managed to lift it up in time, the nose scraping a burnt dropship fuselage. He opens a channel to me, as everyone in the shuttle opened fire on the Smierc, and vice versa. "Mate, I'm reading a foreign object in the left engine. The interior mechanism is mostly intact and functional, but something's blocking it from bloody moving. See what you can do about it, mate, it's hard enough to fly as it is!"

I look at the engine. The old pilot's made some impromptu repairs while we were planting the bombs on the reactor, but I could see a large piece of crystal bolt shrapnel embedded in its underbelly. That must be the cause. I inhale, trying not to puke from the tight turns Dav's putting this shuttle into.

I quickly step up, only holding on with my left hand clinging at the door that won't close thanks to a bunch of holes and a big pile of shrapnel, and one leg on a mangled piece of alloy that used to be the... what was the name... the place where people step on to step into the vehicle. I can't think clearly when I'm bleeding and enduring a headache.

I reach my right arm at the big piece of shrapnel, and manage to get a hold. I begin trying to pull and wiggle it out at the same time, hastened by the crystal bolt fire coming my way from the Smierc that have noticed me in particular. As I remove it, Dav lines up for a clear run at the hangar. I open up comms, as I discard the piece of crystal.

"Got it, now get us out of here-" My words were cut short, by a sizeable crystal bolt, a LMG round, apparently, piercing my left calf. My IRESS vanished with that shot, and it dug into my flesh, making me scream in pain. It also caused me to lose my footing, and I'm now only hanging onto the shuttle with my left hand, as my right clutches the calf in pain. Dav sped up, however, unaware of my little demise, and made a break. We finally exited the hangar. Unfortunately, as we entered space, the strain on my hand made me unable to hang on, and my fingers gave way to the immense pressure and let go.

I looked at the shuttle in a split second of disbelief. I got left behind. I fell off. Whatever oxygen I had in my reserve tank is now leaking from all the holes in my suit, from the crystal bolts, the shrapnel, and most of all, from the gaping wound in my calf. The suction from space makes the wound unbearable, but I cannot scream, as I feel an incredible, indescribable pain in my chest, hands clutching my throat, gasping for just a bit of oxygen that I could never reach. My AI pings my location frantically, sending an emergency to all units, regardless of their proximity to me.

I can feel my brain going cold. It's getting cold. Not super cold, but cold. It's not the space's temperature, it's my brain losing oxygen. My eyesight is darkening. I can't see anyone coming for me, but... maybe it's just my eyesight. Someone will come. Someone will come. Someone... will...

And with those last thoughts, I lose consciousness.
 
We were finally getting ready to get going, but then they tried ruining our trip with an anti-vehicle rocket, which failed in it's main intent, but ended up peppering us anyway. Jao shielded me with an arm, taking a few and causing him to bleed. We got going after that, finally going to be free of this hell hole of a ship, then we get word one of the engine took a hit. Jao went out to fix it, taking a hit from an lmg. I quickly took aim and squeezed off a shot, seeing the head of a Knight jerk back. Dav didn't slow down, and I watched as Jao lost his grip and we went without him. "Fuck HEY STOP!" I shout, almost screaming as I went out and went for Jao, who's AI was rapidly sending out distress beacons, I floated over and grabbed him. "Fuck, man..." I mutter, carrying Jao back to the ship. They hadn't stopped, but they slowed down enough for the two of us to board.

"Hurry up before we lose another man today..." I say, not trying to sound like this was getting to me. I glance down at Jao, who is currently resting in my lap, his helmet faced up, it's featureless visor giving me chills. "Someone get me something to patch his suit." I say, grabbing whatever one of the Corporals handed me, and it was gauze. No clue if it would work, but it better. I take about ten minutes time to wrap enough gauze to tightly cover all of the holes. "ETA?" I ask. "Seconds away." A corporal says, looking at me weirdly. I feel the shudder as we land and come under pressurization, I cut the oxygen tank off and make an effort to carry/drag Jao to the infirmary. Parkins takes his other side and helps me along, and I glance over and give a silent nod as we drag him along. We brought him in and set him on one of the beds.

The doctors and other staff start trying to stabilize him, and I silently watch for a minute before turning and walking to my quarters to change out of my armor and into some more comfortable clothes, and preferrably sleep as well.
 
Katherine

A corporal helped me with my oxygen mask, pressing it up to my mouth and nose, while I watched as the events unfolded, trying not to shed tears while we land in our hangar. I followed Miller along with Parkins carrying an unconscious Joachim to the infirmary, placing him on a bed before splitting off for their respective quarters.

Wanting to do more, I take a revival serum using my mouth and hand it to the doctor, his face showing thanks as he takes it gladly, turning away to administer the serum.

I slowly walked along on four paws to the ladies' living quarters, the door opening automatically as I stepped in. There, I turned back to my human self, the armor squealing under the strain, chunks falling out through rips in my clothes from the sudden changes. I removed my armor and swapped into fresh clothes and falling face flat in my bed, asleep.

No dreams either. Not that I'd like to have any at that point. I'd be visiting the nightmare king with everything that happened.
 
Adrian

As the dropship finally lands back on the NUSS Artemis III, I get Fireteam Nexus to clear the way for an injured Joachim. It seems that the fellow from Fireteam Comet overextended too much and ended up being exposed to the vacuum of space while escaping, forcing our dropship to go back to get the Twisted Wolf and sending Joachim to the infirmary.

Even so, our mission was remarkably successful. On the way back to the NUSS Artemis III, I activated the remote detonators and watched the main Smierc Collective flagship explode in a fiery fashion, as the hyperspace reactor does not like anything remotely explosive around it.

That's when the alarms started to blare in our Scouting Fleet's flagship.


DM

Commander Perez looked on with glee as the Smierc Collective's flagship exploded into a million pieces, and with pride as the New Kronan Defense Fleet finally began to engage the now confused attack fleet. From what he heard via the comms network, Captain Nuremberg finally completed the essential staff and civilian evacuation of the assigned sector from the New Union High Command, with his portion of the Scouting Fleet heading into hyperspace after reporting the fact to the Commander.

That's why when the attack resumed, the Commander's soul was crushed completely.

When the Smierc's attack fleet was reduced to about 50% of its initial capacity, new reinforcements arrived via their own hyperspace systems. However, the reinforcements turned out to be nothing more than small drone warships, which confused the Commander greatly. By the time the New Kronan Defense Fleet was about to intercept the new reinforcements, a familiar green light covered the NUSS Artemis III's bridge.

The Smiercs had sneaked in one of their in-development WMDs, the one with the massive green energy wave. The energy wave decimated the New Kronan Defense Fleet, leaving nothing more than 2 destroyers intact. Even for the 2 destroyers that survived, their shields and armor status from the Tactical Network readings were so low that the Smiercs only had to fire a couple of their lasers to finish the job.

Luckily for the three Scouting Fleet ships that remained to delay the Smiercs, the weapon was out of range. However, there is no chance for the Scouting Fleet Sigma to take back New Krona right now. Soon after the energy weapon's deployment, another attack fleet, almost 4 times as large as the first, exited hyperspace and entered New Kronan orbit.

Hasty evacuation efforts began on the planet's surface, with all available civilian and military transports prioritizing important government officials and any excess civilians they could fit in their cargo holds. The New Kronan Defense Force stationed on the planet's surface launched several interceptors to try and slow down the Smierc Collective's invasion, but it was a true massacre on both the surface and in the sky.

"Commander Perez, we're ordering a tactical retreat. We simply do not have the forces to offer reinforcements to New Krona. I know this may be a tough pill to swallow, but we are now abandoning our capital and relocating to Thorix for now, over.", came in the orders from New Union High Command.

The Commander grit his teeth and barely complied with the order, sending out a notice to the personnel over the PA system of the current predicament.

"Attention all personnel! We are being ordered to pull out of New Krona and relocate to Thorix for a regroup. Mark my words, we will take back New Krona one day. However, we still need to live another day for that to happen. If you have any questions, the officers should be briefed to cover them. Commander Perez... out."
 
(I guess that means me... ;-;

Katherine

It's only been half an hour before the sound of the alarms going off wakes me up. My ears clear up as I open my eyes and sit up. I could hear a series of explosions from the outside, following the faraway, telltale sounds of hyperdrive deactivation. The PA system starts and Perez gives his announcement.

What I heard threw me over the edge. My hand flew to my katana then flew outward, throwing my blade, spinning around like a Frisbee, stabbing into the metal wall, tip first. It sunk in about 3 inches, vibrating from the impact. I slammed myself back into bed, desperately thinking of a silver lining, before I go insane.

At least Perez is trying to give us a reason to leave the capital? No, he's just trying to keep order. At least you made it out alive? Yea, but thousands of others died. Make that twenty billion now. At least you did your mission? We failed to protect New Krona and that's what we were supposed to do.

With each positive thought came a negative thought. I derailed my, already doomed, train of thinking, linking up a private channel with Miller ( LoneSniper87 LoneSniper87 ), "Ashley? You want to go get a drink and maybe check up on Joa later?" I had a undeniable feeling of deja vu, and I knew why. Parkins was downed last week under different circumstances. Am I just unlucky?
 
Joachim

The crystal bolts flew like wild fireflies. Our cover is the only thing keeping us alive at this point. Sarge has taken additional wounds, two crystal bolts to his leg, and one dug into his forearm, but he's still fighting bravely, his terrifying machine gun the only force keeping the Smierc back. Lennard and Allison are doing their best, picking off head after head.

I can hear Livingsdale frantically calling out nonstop distress broadcasts, but there appears to only be static. I glance to Washington. The poor guy is barely alive, still. Frost has begun to form on his poncho, and faint puffs of steam shoot from his mouth like geysers time and again, so thankfully he's still alive.

I peek out of cover, and shoot in single trigger pulls. My holo-bolts hit the frozen mounds of snow, throwing up puffs of crystal white. It doesn't do anything, but it keeps the Smierc in cover. One foolishly peeks up, raking my area with his machine gun, but Lennard quickly puts a clean round into his throat, his gurgling barely audible from even where I am as he fell from view, his machine gun left hanging.

All of a sudden, Livingsdale squeals with joy. "I caught a signal! It's a bit too static, someone raise the pot!" 'Pot' was slang for the Mk. 22 signal antenna, due to its traditional pot-like reception dish. We were given an old one, since these things are getting obsolete now. I hear the boys at HQ are cooking some kind of comms piece that can fit inside a helmet. I know that technology's already available, but I hear they're gonna make it long-range. I've always wondered how that would work. Guess we'll find out when we get out of here.

I volunteer, making my move, but get forced into my cover with a blanket of gunfire from the Smierc. Sarge ducks into cover, as rounds start flying his way as well. There's a sniper looking at Allison and Lennard's tower, doing some counter-sniping. She looks at me, telling me with her eyes. 'Don't do it. Don't be a hero.'

I look down at the Captain. He was now completely blind in one eye, and fading vision in the other. He looked like hell, as he leaned back on his piece of cover, applying a bandage over his arm, that was seriously scraped by a crystal bolt. Looking at it, I'm reminded of the piece of shrapnel I took to my left calf, after another RPG was fired off. I was still lucky, as opposed to the Captain himself, whose right foot has been blown right off. The only thing that remains of it is a boot's heel, with mangled, slowly freezing flesh sticking out the exposed front.

His eyes stared at me blankly. And then a look dawned upon him. I looked at him with panicked eyes. "Don't do it, sir. You're wounded, rest-" My words were cut short by the man himself, as he began standing up, grunting as he pressed his wounded foot down. "Bullshit. I'm never too tired."

I yell to everyone. "Cover fire for Cap!" and switched my rifle to full automatic and fired it blindly from cover, making the fire on our outpost lighten up, which allowed Sarge to get on his machine gun and started racketing the entire frozen tundra with holo-bolts, forcing that enemy sniper down, and the marksmen peeked out and went ham on the Smierc forces trying to return fire.

The battered Captain hobbled, with grunting whenever he put his foot down, and slowly slid a crate under the pot's feet, raising it at least half a meter up. As he turned around to hobble back, the enemy sniper, the one who we have yet to locate, shot him directly in the heart. The man stumbled, as the shot also scraped his lungs, causing him to exhale. And slowly, the man fell backwards, his eyes blankly staring at the sky.

My heart clenched, and sank slowly. I put my hands up to my eyes, shaking my head slowly. I couldn't believe he died like that. He didn't deserve it. He should've died a hero's death. He shouldn't have died at all. I looked to the sniper tower. Lennard takes a shot, and then looks down at me. "Got the guy. For the man." He said, his face filled with conviction, and with only a hint of regret. Maybe he had a shot that he didn't take. I'll never know.

"Got it, thanks, boss!" Livingsdale yelled out of his tent, unaware of the Captain's demise. And through the dying gunfire, I could make out his conversation with the responder. I could only decipher a few parts, though. "Fireteam Alpha 1-4... (pinned) down, need (help)... Got it, (drop)ship inbound... out." He then turned his head and yelled out to us.

"We've got a dropship coming in to pick us up! Hold tight!" to which Lennard replied, "What's the ETA, because there's a fucking storm headed for us!" The answer was 40 seconds. I nodded, and looked at Allison. She looked at me, happiness in her smile. We would live.

Soon enough, the lovely silhouette of a sub-orbital dropship appeared over the horizon, its mounted guns blazing, tearing up huge clouds of snow, descending as frosted mist, mixed with specks of Smierc blood. I cheer on for it, as it circles around, post-haste, and we all move towards it.

Carolina helps with Livingsdale, as Lennard moves to carry Washington, aided by Allison. I move to aid Lopez, as he grabs his gun by the strap and begins hobbling with my aid. As we make it to the dropship, Smierc forces appeared again, and some crystal bolts rained down on us. The gunship uses its rotary cannon to sweep the mounds of snow, but the crystal bolts keep coming.

As we all board, Lennard hops off and runs full speed at the Captain's body. I yell out to him, as we provided cover fire. "Farmboy, what the fuck are you doing?" and as he picked up the Captain's body, he replied, with a lot of grunting and heavy breathing. "We can't leave him like this! We're gonna bury him!" "We're gonna have to bury you too, you fucking idiot! Hurry up!"

I felt like I was tempting fate with that last one, as a crystal bolt dug deep into his lower back as he was 1 meter away from the dropship. He dropped down, with a small grunt. Carolina screamed out his name as I jumped out and pulled him in as we took off, with the pilot exclaiming that the storm's setting in.

As we flew away, an RPG round flew at us. A homing missile. I wonder how they got the tech? The pilot evaded gracefully, but alas, the missile headed and blew up the left engine, our left wing flying right off. As we screamed at the top of our lungs when it goes down, the storm set in, and my vision went black.



I open my eyes. Oh god, I feel sick. I get up on all fours, and vomit from the movement.
 
A faceless mask stared me down, the wearer and myself locked in a heated battle, knife's edge to sword's edge. We interlock for brief moments, taking steps back after each assualt to try and gauge a weakness. The mask hid all emotion, so no tells are given when they know victory. We charge again, but the figure, feints to a side, charging me and ramming me into a wall. It was then I realized his blade was in my abdomen. He leaves me pinned there as he pulls out a Type AB and levels it for my head, I reach for my own and realize it was never there. "No! Don't shoot me please! Please don't!" I scream, but my pleas go unheard as his finger tightens around the trigger slowly until it is pressed.

I wake up suddenly and in a panic, drenched in sweat. My own nightmares and the alarm scaring the crap out of me. I lay there in my bed, curled under the covers trying to calm my nerves and steady myself. I hear Katherine on the comms, but it takes a minute before I fully register her words. "Y-yeah." I shakily respond, rising from my bed. "Meet you in five." I added before cutting the link to go change into a pair of black pants and a grey uniform shirt, slipping on some black gloves to go along with them. I kept my handgun at my side and felt ready, more comfortable now that I had something to protect me. I walked to the bar, trying to shake off the fear and helplessness of the nightmare.

I walk into the bar and have a seat where I did last time, the place noticably more empty than the last time. I motion for the bartender to come my way. "Something strong, please..." I say quietly, mostly due to the loudness of my own thoughts and revelations, slowly churning in my head to a final conclusion. We may be supersoldiers in essence, with superior skill to a most and the best shot of winning the war, but those who were once with us also have the best chance of killing us. The thought depressed me, knowing that death was now my biggest fear rather than a a thought in the back of my mind.
 
Joachim

I've got to get used to that one day. The sudden movements of a spacecraft. Won't be good if I don't adjust to it. After retching out whatever dinner I had, I looked around, scanning my surroundings. I had been thrown out of the dropship by the blast, and relentless gusts of wind smack me all across my body, snow blocking my visor as soon as I wipe it off.

I look inside. Carolina's clinging onto Washington, crying over his lifeless corpse. Livingsdale is stuck, a metal beam impaling his leg, holding him in place, while Allison tries to free him. Lennard is walking around, with a certain wobble in his gait, obviously from concussions. He walks into the cockpit to check on the pilot, whom he soon confirms is dead. Sarge is standing up slowly, inhaling and exhaling normally, trying to calm himself.

As I grab my rifle and move towards them, my stance low, my right hand covering my face from the winds, I could faintly see some dark silhouettes in front of the dropship, standing on an elevation. I look around, and familiar silhouettes appear all around us, except for our 6 o'clock. I raise my gun, yelling to my teammates when a crystal shot is fired directly into the cockpit, scrambling the internal systems. The door that sealed the cockpit from the rest of the dropship closed on Lennard, pinning him in place. And quickly, the entire cockpit caught fire, burning poor Farmboy alive. I could hear his terrible screams. He tries to push the door off him, his entire body blazing with fire, but he cannot beat the hydraulic lock. No one can.

Carolina's crying intensified further, as we all tried to look away, our hearts sinking further and further into our guts. I could hear Allison beginning to sob between her rifle shots, her tears illuminated by the muzzle flash from Sarge's enraged gunfire, a nonstop torrent of holo-bolts at the silhouettes, who are returning fire as well.

"We're getting boxed in! We gotta move, now!" I yelled, loading my second-to-last magazine into the gun. I point to the 6 o'clock area that is devoid of silhouettes. We all unanimously agree, but a dark gloom descends upon our faces. We look to Livingsdale, who is stuck. With a face full of fear, as he realizes. "Wait, what about me?"

We looked at each other. We agreed unanimously, but our hearts torment us to do it. We begin moving, Allison pulling on Carolina, sobbing uncontrollably, and Sarge prepares to move, psyching himself up for the pain as he moves. Livingsdale looks around, panicked, asking the same question over and over. Finally, I grab Washington's gun and hand it to him, along with his magazines. With a cracked voice, and tears welling up in my eye sockets, I could only muster a small whisper, as he looked at me with an eye full of betrayal. "I'm sorry."

And then I grabbed Sarge by the shoulder and we ran for the hills. Livingsdale called to us, telling us to wait, hammering a nail into our hearts, as he stopped, exchanging gunfire instead. As we moved further away, the gunfire subsided. I try not to think about it. Instead, I have something else to worry about. As Sarge moves, his breaths become quicker, with shorter intervals after each hop. The blood trickling down his leg is not a good sign, either. He's gonna get frostbite in the wounds pretty quick in this weather. Carolina's still sobbing, trying to stick to us and not just collapse from the mental breakdown. Allison's finding our way, one hand covering her eyes from the relentless winds, the other holding onto Carolina, comforting her.

Sarge coughs up blood, and collapses down, bringing me with him. I try to lift him up, but he refuses.

- Leave me, kid. I'm not gonna live long.
- No can do, Sarge. You've gotta come with us. You've gotta live.

"Goddamnit kid, listen!"
he yelled, pulling me close to him, shutting me up. "I've been waiting for this day for far too long. I've got nothing to live for. My children are dead, my wife is with another man, and all my friends are waiting for me in hell." He said, with a slight crack in his voice. I could faintly see tears in his visor. "Now you set me down here, and you give me your damn rifle along with that last magazine, and you let me make my final fucking stand right here, do you understand me?"

After a slight pause that felt like an entire eternity, I obliged. He handed me his LMG, along with 2 magazines, while I passed him my rifle. He looked at me, whispering a quick 'Thank you' before turning at the silhouettes, advancing towards us in the blizzard. We keep moving. After a while, we hear gunfire. Our ears listened intently, silently praying for just another shot to ring out, but alas, after 39 shots, we can only hear crystal bolt fire. I could hear Allison quietly sobbing. I feel the tears on my face as well. But we must keep going.

After some walking, the storm let up. Visibility improved to 50 meters. The winds are faint now, a stark contrast to what they were 5 minutes ago. We quickly run, with only the aid of our compasses, to the nearest base. It's not far from here, just 15 more minutes and we'll...

My train of thoughts were cut short. A crystal bolt whizzed past my head in slow motion, and pierced Carolina's skull, killing her instantly. The elongated crystal barbs, indicative of a marksman rifle. Her lifeless body fell in front of my eyes, as I instinctively hopped right, into cover behind a mound of snow. Allison yelled out her name, her voice cracking, as she pulled out her rifle.

I laid down, and provided one hell of a cover fire, forcing the new sight of Smierc up close into the snow, some permanently down. Allison yelled out loud, firing her rifle with wild abandon, any sign of marksmanship long gone. I look to my back. There's better cover behind us. A sort-of trench made in the snow, dug by the convoy that came to us yesterday for a refill on supplies. That single dip in the snow was our only hope of surviving long. And if we could just travel with it, we'll arrive at base.

I get up, my hand gripping the LMG and firing it wildly, and yelled at her to get back to the road. "C'mon, we've gotta go! Let's go, Allison! Move it!" I yelled. She complied, and ran with me. I turned around and ran at full speed. Crystal bolts began whizzing past us, making a distinct cracking sound as they passed. Just 10 more meters. I turn around and fire a quick burst of LMG at the Smierc, prompting them to take cover. 5 more meters. The crystal bolts whiz past again, closer and closer to us. 1 meter.

As we ducked into the trench, at the very last second, a crystal bolt, with elongated barbs, went into Allison's back, making her scream out in pain, as her footing was lost and she slipped down to the road, hitting her head on the snow. As I landed, I scrambled to her, dropping my LMG. I grabbed her and lifted her up, gently, laying her head against my knees.

She looked at me, her mouth coughing out blood already, with panicked eyes. I remove her visors and her mask, and look down to her wound, a crystal bolt sticking out the middle of it. I panicked, telling her the usual stuff. The cliché stuff from the movies. She looked at me, her mouth forming words.

- Look at me, look at me. You're gonna be okay. You're alright. You'll live. It's okay. It's okay-
- Just stop, J. You're a bad... liar. I know you.
- ... Just hold on, Allison. You're gonna be okay.
- Just... stop. It's okay. I'm ready. I'm ready to go.
- Goddammit, Allison, I'm not! I'm not gonna let you go! Hang on to me, damnit!

I begin to tear up, sobbing uncontrollably. All the emotions I've kept from her, all the coolness I built up with her, all gone within this critical instant. She could see it in me now. Her eyes widen ever so slightly. I forget of the Smierc threat, slowly advancing on our position.

- I won't let you go. I can't, Allison. I... I...
- Just shut up, J. I know. You love me.
- ... You do?
- I... I've always k-known. Like I s-said... you're a bad liar... Jackson.
- God... dammit, Allison. I meant to tell you... so long ago.
- It's okay. I love you too.
- Hey, hey, don't do that! Stay with me!

The gaps between her breaths grew longer and longer. She reached her arm into her pocket, and handed something to me. She put it in my hand, and I recognize the object. It's a lighter, the kind they use to light tobacco. It's so old. From so long ago. Why did she give this to me? She slowly pulled me down, and gave me a kiss on the forehead. I held my head close, my hands holding her tightly.

- It's my lucky lighter. Remember me, Jack.
- I will.
- I'm sorry... things ended up this way. If only we met sooner...

Her words trailed off. Her hands, I could feel them go limp. I open my eyes and look at her. A frozen trickle of blood trailing down her left cheek, as she turns her face over to lean on my right calf, her lips pressed together tightly as if she was just sleeping, and her eyes closed, peacefully, in an eternal sleep.

The torn moon shimmers down, its sparkling reflections illuminating the frozen tundra. This was a quiet night, aside from the relentless gusts of wind and the sound of distant avalanches, forming and fading seamlessly on this ice cube of a planet named Vaccaro. I collapsed, my voice growing weak, my throat going hoarse from the uncontrollable crying, my muscles growing soft, as my heart felt like it had dug itself out of my body and had died in the freezing cold. I had lost the love of my life.

After what felt like an eternity of suffering, I opened my eyes and looked up, to the mound of snow that covered us from the Smierc. A lone trooper stood on top, holding a holo-machete. It was clear that he saw that I had no fight left in me. A captain. A chieftain, a brute. He moved towards me, kicking Allison's feet out of the way, and aligned his machete up to my neck.

My sadness turned to anger. The damn Smierc had costed me so much. I could feel a burning sensation in my left hand, and drop the lighter temporarily. The fire inside me never felt so intense. I let my mind go, and flowed with my anger. Before I knew it, the Smierc captain was choking on a... sword made of fire, jammed directly into his throat. He dropped his machete, choking on the thing before falling backwards and dying.

I let out a war cry, and ran for my LMG. As two more approached the trench top, I cut them down with whatever remained in my magazine, tearing them into more than 20 different pieces. I quickly load another magazine and got on the top, and unloaded upon the Smierc, surprised by my counter-attack.

They attacked me so many times, with clever flanking maneuvers, predictable, easy to counter. As my machine gun ran out of ammunition, I waited until they got close, and popped up again, cutting them down with my sidearm. One got into my trench, but I killed it with my standard army knife. As I ran out of ammunition for my sidearm, and they rally for one last attack, I feel an insurmountable anger inside me.

I could feel... the heat inside me. I'm burning. Literally. What is this? So many questions, but I still have no idea what I'm doing. Then my consciousness let go, and all I saw was a wave of fire cover the entire landscape, incinerating all the Smierc, screaming terribly, before everything died down.

My vision fades. I could hear a dropship coming in. I collapse down, and look at Allison. I try my best to crawl to her, and did so agonizingly. I grabbed the lighter, and held on to it tightly, and I lied next to her. My breaths slowed, as I closed my eyes. I'm so sorry, Allison...

------------------------------------------------------------​
Wait, what? Wait, why am I on the ground? Hold on, this isn't right. I open my eyes, finding a few New Union troops standing around me, one apparently being a medic. I get up slowly, assisted by the troopers. And I looked around, puzzled as all hell. First of all, there's a charred field of snow in front of me, with what looks to be... oh sweet, dead Smierc!

I glance around me. Apparently there's this dead girl next to me. Well shit. The troops look at me, puzzled. Apparently they've never seen this kind of stuff before. I don't know why, but I feel good acknowledging that. Damn, I'm good. I look around, and finally notice my hand is holding on something. A lighter? This is some old stuff!

I put it in my pocket, and also found a holo-machete. Sweet. I pick it up, feeling some good vibes about this thing. And then I finally look to the medics. They're asking for my name. I pause for a bit, taken aback by my lack of an answer. I try to remember. It was a J... something. J... James? John? Jackson? No, that can't be it. J, J, J... Joe... Joa... Joachim! Yes, that's right! I remember now!

I then look at the medics, who apparently can't locate my dog tags. Pffft, it's not like I needed a New Union dog to locate my shit for me. I answer his question, looking him straight in the eye. "Name's Joachim."
 
Katherine

I noticed the shakiness of her reply, immediately wondering what had gone wrong. I also noticed how eerie quiet the ship was, aside from the normal sounds, like the engine or the electronics. Did we lose that many people?

I put on my last set of clothes, wishing I had some fresh food for once other than that mushy, tasteless mess hall food. I was just about to leave before I remembered my katana was stuck in the wall. I walked over and pulled it out, putting it in my personal sheath, then walked out the door.

The signs of battle were still evident inside the ship. The wall was pockmarked with huge clusters of holes. Blood was still splattered on the wall. If they had any sense in their right mind, they'd have cleaned it up by now, for morale's sake.

I walked over to the bar, practically just Ashley sitting at the counter and some other guys playing a quiet round of poker, faces serious, credit chips on the table. Some were sweating heavily. I sit down on the barstool next to Ashley, waving the bartender, "Hot cocoa, cram it good." The bartender looked back, confused. "Put as much sugar as you can." He then nodded before turning his back to continue preparing the drinks. I pulled out a credit chip and placed it on the counter for the bartender to have.

I sat in a moment of silence, listening in to the sound of people chugging down their drinks and talking in the tables behind us. I finally broke my silent spell, "Ashley? You were a little shaky back when you came back earlier. What happened?" I paused for a moment, letting a thought drift into my mind as the bartender brought us our drinks, which he had the sense to keep away from each other. "I-is it because of me?"
 
"No, heavens no!" I reply, looking at her with worry. "Nightmares... Is all, Katherine. Things I don't feel like sharing at the moment. I have... A lot on my mind." I say, reaching for my glass and taking another, more hefty drink this time. I let out a small exhale then continue. "It's been rough lately, let's leave it at that." I finish, looking away and down at the table. "I'm gonna visit Joa when we finish up here, you gonna come?" I asked her. "But anyway... How are you holding up? I can tell that this has taken it's toll on you because it has on everyone else, correct if i'm wrong though." I said, glancing at the guys playing poker.
 
Katherine

I take up my glass, warm to the touch, and inhaled the familiar smell of chocolate, taking a large swig, and setting it down. The sweetness nearly made me throw up, but I needed the overload for the crash later. I don't know of a better way to knock myself out.

"I mean, considering the fact of watching people die left and right, oh yea, I am definitely shaken. There are peaceful solutions to problems, and some shouldn't have loss of life, on both sides, but considering the way things are now..." Swig. "I have to fight, for the good of the sector and maybe the whole galaxy."

I finish off the glass, setting it aside for the bartender and let out a sigh, "You know, I'm pretty surprised you didn't freak out when you saw me like that back there. But on a different note, why don't we just go see Joa now?"
 
Joa...Jackso- No, Joa... Who am I?

What... What did I just see? What was that? Where am I? I don't know. I try to open my eyes. And my eyesight comes back. But... it doesn't feel... right. My body doesn't have that heaviness to it, and my eyelids just flung open easily. It's like I'm a... a ghost. Am I dead? Is this what death feels like? Wait, what happened?

No, I can't be dead. If I was dead, I wouldn't be seeing this in the first place. Is heaven real? Is hell real? I don't know. Is it? I can't see anything, that's for sure. It's pitch dark.

Some visions came into my eyes. Being on some... beach. With a girl. Wait, I know her. I don't know her name, but I have it on the tip of my tongue, but I can't... That's... That's Florus. We were on shore leave, and some navy men "smuggled" us out.... Who's this "we"? What...

Where's this now? Icy, cold, snowy. A... building of sorts. There we are again. We were... wait, what are those... I remember those. Crystal bolts. What are they, really, though? I don't know. We're under fire of some sort? The big man is dead. Then that man too. Then that one. Then that one. The girl... She got shot in the head...

Then it's that girl again. The one I know. I still can't remember her name... She got shot. The lighter... why does she have it? My head aches so much. I'm stuck inside a movie theater, it seems. I can't find my bearings, and I don't know where I am. It feels cold. Cold. But then a stream of heat came to me, an electric shock.

I can see a tombstone. A grave in front of me. What does it say there? Allison... Von Hyrlenberg. Wait, that's my name! I'm Von Hyrlenberg! Am I? Who am I? What's my name? What is it, what is it? J... something. John? Jane? Who am I? I know, but yet I don't know, and it's driving me insane, because I know the answer but I...

Huh? What's this? An invitation- no, a summoning card. For a... special... secret... organization thing. The Sapper- No, the Sabre Corps. There are these battles. I don't recognize them. Not at all. I don't... People are calling me Jack, but then they're calling me Joachim... Are those my names? Which one's my real name? Why is it all blurring together?

I can see myself in bed. Clutching on the lighter. Why am I crying? That lighter's... from Allison. Did I miss her? Who was she, was she special to me? Why can't I remember? When did this happen? When did all of this happen? When am I now? When does this nightmare end?

Then, so many things flashed before me. For some reason, I recognize them all. This place... called Yabrao. We crashed in a ship, a small ship, onto there. Then there was... our spaceship got attacked. Then we... attacked their spaceship. I hit my head during a landing on their... big ship. I started having these... dreams? Memories? I can't tell.

I can see myself... Oh my God. Is that even me? Is it now? I can see a man on an operating table. There are a few doctors moving around, injecting various fluids into him, calling out medical terms. I could hear them so clearly too. The... heart rate is failing, they had to use the old defib, was that the shock back then?

I'm wounded all over the place. My body is... dried, hollowed, from the... suction in space. I can't live like this. I can't. Let me out. Let me out! Let me OUT! I want to GET OUT! LET ME OUT! I CAN'T DO THIS!

But alas, I can't get out, no matter how hard I yell. I just have to hope, hope, that these doctors know what they're doing. In the meantime... I guess I'll figure myself out. Who am I? Who am I? Who is this?
 
"Yeah... That would be nice." I say, rising from the counter and leaving a few credits as a tip for the guy, giving the bartender a small wave. I walked out and went to the infirmary, not stopping for anything. I entered the ward, requesting to see Joachim. They wouldn't let me though, he was in surgery, they said. "Ok." I responded quietly, taking a seat outside of the ward, leaning against the wall.

(Sorry this is so short)
 

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