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Chapter 586 - Stock Car Race

Chapter 586 - Stock Car Race

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls for it tolls for thee." - Unknown

7th Army Bugler

All News! No Rumors!

TRUCKER TO TAKE STAND

Contrary to the opinions of JAG experts and barracks lawyers all over the Confed Military, General Trucker is set to take the stand. Whether or not it is for his own defense remains to be seen.

With the fact that the Devil Herself is running the prosecution, everyone expects some kind of twist to come up soon. Doubters to her power were silenced when she summoned the SUDS record of Colonel Dremsal, a former Regimental Commander for 3rd Armor. Additionally, an assessment of her facial structure has many to believe that she is a Pre-Glassing phenotype, maybe even Pre-Glassing Hamburger Kingdom.

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MAJOR GENERAL P'KANK TO TAKE COMMAND OF 8TH INFANTRY DIVISION

Transferring in from pro-tem Commander of III Corps, General P'Kank was promoted to General of the Bronze as well as to Major General, following his successful five year defense of the Hesstla system in the face of overwhelming Atrekna forces.

General P'Kank reformed 1st Cavalry Division, 2nd Armor Division, 1st Infantry Division, and 1st Power Armor Division after the disastrous effects of the Great Die Off, training local citizens to replace the loss of TDH numbers.

With him comes nearly 150,000 Hesstla volunteers, many of which have months and years of combat experience against the Atrekan. Also accompanying General P'Kank are nearly a division of Tukna'rn infantry, a Mantid Medical Brigade, and a Leebaw Aquatic Commando Special Troops Unit.

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HOUSING AND YOU - WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

For those of you in on-post housing, it is necessary to understand that any modifications to your dwelling, even as simple as painting the walls, must be preceded by filing proper paperwork and gaining permissions.

Talk to your Housing Liaison before making any changes to your dwelling.

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BOBCO MERCH FAIR FRIDAY

That's right, General NoDra'ak has lifted the ban of the sale of BobCo merchandise and is allowing the somewhat disreputable ultra-corp to hold a merchandise fair at the Ralvex PX on the south side of base this Friday.

Yes, there will be puppies, kittens, dogs, and cats for adoption!

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PRIVATE FIRST CLASS K'RAK AWARDED WARSTEEL CLUSTER!

Confederate Armed Services officers, A Cattle Queen of Smokey Cone, and a representative of the Confederate Government visited Threadle Military Medical Center yesterday to award PFC K'Rak the Confederacy and the Treana'ad Hive World's highest awards for valor in the face of the enemy. General NoDra'ak pinned both the Warsteel Cluster and the Strawberry Mean Moomoo awards to the recovering infantryman. Additionally, the wounded infantryman was inducted into the Brotherhood of P'Thok. The wounded Treana'ad infantryman accepted the award solemnly before asking about his platoon mates, who, regretfully, were killed during the campaign.

As you know, PFC K'Rak's dropship was shot down in the opening landings and his Platoon Leader and Platoon Sergeant were killed during the crash. PFC K'Rak, using initiative, set up a hasty fortification and held off Atrekna wave attacks until the survivors could regroup. Administering first aid in between waves until the survivors were ready, PFC K'Reak, with the rest of his squad, held off repeated Atrekna wave attacks for nearly 90 hours before his squad was forced to abandon the dropship and retreat into the mountains after wiring the dropship to blow in place. Once on the move, the survivors kept the pressure on the Atrekan, conducting hit and run raids as they moved through fifty miles of enemy held territory, often escorting refugees.

PFC K'Rak then participated in guerrilla warfare against the Atrekna for nearly two years, eventually becoming the last Treana'ad standing. Once he was on his own, PFC K'Rak kept up harassing the Atrekna forces by skillfully [WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?]

8TH INFANTRY DIVISION 'GRUNT GAMES' COMMENCE ON MONDAY!

The fabled 8th Infantry 'Grunt Games', where infantry units show off their MOS skills in observed and judged events, will take place for the first time in six years starting Monday. The two week event will see everything from unpowered cliff descent to rapid dismount to fire and maneuver. It will be open to dependents and civilians, with tickets going on sale at any Morale, Welfare, & Recreation center.

In related news, the Unified Educational Channel will be broadcasting the games live to the former Unified Council Territory.

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REENLIST TOD

>NO

NEW ADAPTIVE CAMOUFLAGE UNIFORM MAY BE ON THE WAY!

After two years of testing a new adaptive camouflage uniform may be on the way, to replace the currently eighteen year old uniform in standard use across the Confederate Armed Services. Replacing the pressure seals with Velcro, adding two more pockets, and adjusting the size of the rest of the pockets, the new uniform will be lighter, more durable, and offer better concealment!

A project between TRADOC and Procurement Services, the new uniform will be using the camouflage pattern developed by Brigedair General Altair of the Confederate Army. General Altair had agreed to lease the pattern to the Confederate Armed Services before this reposting to Terra after the Second Telkan Defense.

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COMMAND REMINDERS FROM THE DESK OF GENERAL NODRA'AK

I would like to remind all service members that 'Catch the Bayonet' is only to be played with at least one medic in attendance and only with a BAC of lower than .25. Preferably play it outside. Furthermore, live grenades are NOT a substitute for a bayonet and we all damn well know it.

Additionally, I would like take this opportunity to inform enlistedmen that it is not appropriate to sneak up behind officers and suddenly yell "IS THAT DAXIN/LEGION?" at the top of your lungs despite how humorous the reaction might be.

Once again, I would like to remind the enlistedbeings that tying a string to a glitter colored smiley-face button and attempting to 'Lure Cat-Girls' into your room with them means that any and all 'injuries' incurred during 'close quarters combat grappling practice' are not an excuse to get out of PT.

Furthermore, must I remind you, fellow officers, that some decorum should be maintained in front of the enlisted? The Immortals are not here to answer questions to satisfy your historical curiosity, they are here with a most solemn duty regarding the court martial of one of our brother officers. Besides, none of them are going to tell you who assassinated Razor Wit Wendy at the end of the War of the Box.

Senior NCO's are reminded that it is not appropriate to send enlisted in trouble to stand outside the court-room with signs decrying their crimes, disappointments, or other problems. I would like to reaffirm that you are not allowed to 'make it Daxin's problem now' or 'answer to the Sisters of Wrath', you have the training and experience, just stop.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Finally, I would like to remind all lower enlisted that "The Devil Made Me Do It" is not a valid defense despite the sudden revelation that the Devil is real and on post at this time. Yes, yes, I know that she has impressive "Devil Mommy Milkers" but please, in the interests of avoiding a theological incident, stop blaming "The Detainee" for your misdeeds.

And no, she doesn't lactate whiskey. For the Digital Omnimessiah's sake, gentlemen, ladies, both and neither, what made you even think that?

--General NoDra'ak

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The courtroom was quiet as Trucker's lawyer moved up to the witness stand.

"Your Honor, I'd like to enter General Trucker's service record into evidence," the lawyer said.

The judge thought for a moment. "I'll allow it."

The Detainee snapped her finger and a little bow-legged creature with big eyes, a mouth full of snaggle teeth, floppy ears, clawed hands, and flappy feet appeared in a puff of yellowish smoke.

"Yeah, boss?" it squeaked.

"Bring me Trucker's record," the Detainee ordered.

"Yes, boss," the creature said, vanishing in a puff of smoke.

Trucker's lawyer shook his head and turned back to General Trucker, who sat in full uniform, his sash heavy with medals.

"General Trucker, how long have you lead Third Armor Division (Old Blood)?" the lawyer asked.

"Sixty-eight years total," Trucker said.

"In that time, has Third Armor ever taken casualties like they did during the Great Die-Off?"

"No, sir," Trucker said.

"Has the situation ever been as desperate for Third Armor Division as it was at that time, in your opinion?"

The little creature appeared, holding out a paper file folder, then vanished in a puff of brimstone.

"No, sir."

"Please describe the events leading up to your request to active the Black Cauldron Protocol," the lawyer said.

Trucker clenched his hands as he went over going in for a diagnostic on his cyberware, waking up in the room to a startled Mantid doctor, discovering his forces were virtually wiped out. He stressed the civilian casualties were mounting geometrically before he gave the order to land directly into the enemy's guns. He went through his hazy, foggy memories of the battle, finishing with deactivating the protocol and returning to the orbital command for medical treatment.

"In your professional opinion, General, was there any other option, available to you at that time and that you had knowledge of, that you could have used that would have stopped the enemy and preserved civilians?" the lawyer asked.

"No, sir," Trucker said.

The lawyer turned to the judge. "No further questions, your Honor."

The judge stared at the Detainee. "Your witness."

"Thank you, Your Honor," the Detainee said. She tapped the folder. "I'm still catching up. I need about ten more seconds."

"You have two minutes," the judge said.

"Done," the Detainee said.

Trucker sighed slowly, his eyes closed, as he got his mental balance under him. He opened his eyes and watched as the smartly dressed woman stood up, looking at a file folder in her hand. She was wearing charcoal gray again, a knee length pleated skirt, a wide lapel blouse with a white undershirt, hose, and severe looking polished black shoes, with a string of pearls around her throat.

Her shoes clacked as she moved in front of the witness stand, still staring at the folder. Trucker could see it was just normal plas-sheet, not even smart-paper. She paged through several pages before looking up and taking a drag off her ever present cigarette.

"General Trucker," she said, smiling as she exhaled cigarette smoke and the smell of blood, iron, scorched warsteel, and brimstone.

"Ma'am," Trucker nodded.

"As your service record has been made a record of the court, I found myself perusing it," the Detainee said. "An impressive string of outright victories as well as forcing the enemy to take a Pyrrhic victory, with nothing that could be seen, looking at it honestly, as a defeat," she smiled wider, and Trucker noticed just how sharp her elongated incisors were.

"Thank you, ma'am," Trucker said.

"However, there are five incidents that stand out to me," she said. She tapped the folder with her extended pinky. "Two from the Clownface Nebula Conflict, two from the Mithril Nebula War, and one from the Remshalla Cluster Operation."

Trucker nodded slowly. "Yes, ma'am."

"You know which incidents I am referring to, General?" the Detainee asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Trucker said.

"In all five incidents, you disobeyed a direct order given by a superior officer," the Detainee said. She took another drag off of her cigarette. "Is this true?"

"Yes, ma'am," Trucker said.

The Detainee nodded. "In each case it was a refusal to engage in operational activities that would have directly caused civilian casualties, correct?"

"That was not the only reason," Trucker said.

The Detainee smiled wider. "No. It was not. In each instance you used other tactics and/or maneuvers, successfully completing your ultimate objective, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Trucker had the urge to wipe his brow. He knew he was sweating, but heat was rolling off of the woman in front of him.

"Were you aware, at the time of your request to activate the Black Cauldron Protocol, that a war crime had already been committed?" the Detainee asked.

Trucker frowned. "I was not aware of any such war-crime."

"The ordering of one Chief Warrant Officer Casey to manufacture, mount, and field a set of Novastar VII powered planetary assault armor," the Detainee said.

"At that time, no, I was not aware," Trucker said.

"It did not factor into your decision?" the Detainee asked.

"No, ma'am."

"So you were not aware that a war crime had been committed against one of your own troops?"

"No, ma'am."

"Were you aware, prior to this trial, that a commander can commit a war-crime upon their own troops?"

"Yes, ma'am," Trucker said.

"In your opinion, as a professional soldier, was the use of the Black Cauldron Protocol upon the troops of 3rd Armor Division and 8th Infantry Division, a war crime?" the Detainee asked. She held up her hand as the defense attorney started to stand up. "I am not asking about your use in particular, I'm asking about the Black Cauldron Protocol and the Vānaras System being used in general."

"Your Honor, I object," the defense attorney said.

"On what grounds?" Judge Lemoyent asked.

"General Trucker is not a lawyer, thus his opinion on whether or not it is a war crime is invalid. Additionally, we have not even confirmed that the use is a war crime," the lawyer said.

The judge looked at the Detainee.

"If a General in command of a division can't tell a war crime from a legitimate military action, I don't think they have any right to hold command," the Detainee sneered. She looked at the other lawyer. "I didn't know and I was only following orders ceased to be valid defenses in military tribunals and trials following a one-balled Austrian artist with a shitty mustache putting a gun in his mouth after getting bullied by a fat Limey, a commie, and a cripple."

The lawyer frowned. "I don't know what that means or refers to."

The Detainee sighed. "Your Honor, if the Confederate Armed Services has in its rank service beings of the rank of General who cannot recognize a war crime, the problems go far beyond this trial."

The judge nodded. "I agree," she looked at the defense lawyer. "Overruled."

"Do you need me to repeat the question, General?" the Detainee asked.

"No, ma'am," Trucker said. "In my opinion, having seen and experienced what it does, having seen the fate of a man I've known for decades when you brought him up as a witness, it is my personal opinion that the use of the Black Cauldron Protocol and the Vānaras System has the potential to be a war crime."

The Detainee smiled widely and took a drag off of her half-finished cigarette. "One last set of questions, General Trucker," she said.

Trucker swallowed thickly and nodded.

"You know who I am, correct?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Trucker answered.

"And that is?" she asked after a moment.

"The Detainee, the Lord of Hell in the SUDS," Trucker said.

The Detainee smiled and nodded. "Do you believe me when I tell you with the exception of two subjects who escaped my grasp, I have, in my possession, the souls of every soldier you subjected to the Black Cauldron Protocol and the Vānaras System?"

Trucker thought for a second. "Yes, ma'am."

"You can't accept regeneration or cloned parts, you have to rely upon cybernetics, is that correct?" the Detainee asked.

Trucker noted her eyes had a burning light deep inside as he nodded. "Correct, ma'am."

"You have never been killed and SUDS washed, have you?" the Detainee asked. "Or transferred to a new body?"

Trucker shook his head. "No, ma'am."

"Please place your hand on the counter before you," she said.

Trucker frowned and did so. The Detainee put her hand on top of his. Trucker was shocked at how soft and warm it was.

"Yes or no, General," she said intently, leaning forward slightly. "Would you trade your immortal soul to me to free them all from Hell and have me heal them and deliver them into the Digital Omnimessiah's embrace and the Afterlife?"

"YOUR HONOR! OBJECTION!" the lawyer yelled.

"I would," Trucker said, nodding. "Yes. Yes, I would."

'COUNSEL!" Judge Lemoyent snapped.

The short matron suddenly spun around, her dress and blouse tearing as her skin turned dark brown, her body swelled, horns sprouted from her forehead. In less than a second she stood nearly five meters tall, all brown flesh, corded muscle, covered in chains and leather straps, one hand holding a fiery whip, the other holding a long barbed chain.

"IMPEDE NOT MY DUTIES TO THE DIGITAL OMNIMESSIAH, MORTALS! MAKE NO ATTEMPT TO IMPEDE MY OATHS!" the massive demon roared. She suddenly shrunk back down, not a hair out of place as she turned to the judge.

"Your Honor, I'm merely establishing whether or not being forced to use the Black Cauldron Protocol and the Vānaras System also victimized General Trucker by leaving him behind to face the guilt of using an approved weapon of the Confederate Armed Services," the matron said mildly to the silent court.

The judge shook her head quickly, closing her eyes for a second. "Overruled."

The lawyer swallowed thickly and sat down.

"No further questions," the Detainee smiled. She started to walk away and Trucker heard her whisper in his ear even though she was at least four meters away.

"A bargain offered, a bargained accepted," the woman's voice whispered.