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We all piled out the apc, and its back door swung shut, and locked with a mechanical buzz.
[Don’t you go dying now, if not for you for me, you fucker, I don’t want to die, you got that? Stupid human? Good. Know we’re all in this together, and if you die, so do I.]
Ok, I get it Bob, I’m not planning on dying anytime soon, and if you don’t mind, I’ve got a bunch of ugly goblins to kill, oil to find, and lots more oxygen to breathe before I finally succumb to falling off a cliff or something.
[Good. I won’t allow you to die anyway. If you lose consciousness, I’ll take over and kill the enemies, so even while you’re knocked out, I’ll decide the best course of action for both of us. And don’t you dare purchase another skill or trait without consulting me mofo! Anyway, I think I’ve said enough, skedadle and kill some gobbies for men will ya?]
I gasped as time seemingly unfroze, and thought back to that one meme that said ‘Hans, get the flammenwerfer!’ But instead of a flamethrower, we have a bunch of guns and explosives, and instead of the allied powers, I’d be killing those barely sentient pests, or at least that’s what the majority of the town believes they are, maybe they’re some prosecuted minority, but it wasn’t my job to decide that. The poor fuckers actually tried to defend themselves, knowing little of what guns did tot their bodies, tearing them into many little red ribbons, chaff sized. I decided to turn the notifications off, as I didn’t want a tab to get in the way of my vision and subsequently getting killed by a goblin that was blocked by it. A hobgoblin leapt out, and hit tiny to the side, his body crashing right into the tree. A 40mm grenade from the underslung grenade launcher put an end to the disgusting creatures existence quite quickly, a hole quickly forming in its chest, the thing waving its club around, the final actions it got before it fell to the ground, crushing a few goblins, but many more coming out of the nest,
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”Jack to Bradley, requesting immediate fire support, we kicked a nest, but not a hornets. Requesting mg fire and ap rounds, be aware friendlies in the area, so no he rounds, as the overpressure might kill us. I’m not sure if overpressure is even existent here, but I ain’t taking any chances, over.” I inquired, knowing we might get overran any second.
“We heard you loud and clear, fire support commencing, over.”
Boom! Boom! Boom! The auto cannon sounded, marking the end of multiple gobbers every shot, the .50 cals on board ripping apart the creatures, the m2 browsing in service even after 130 years of service, because no one thought of any better replacement. I definitely knew I had to have completed the kill quests by now, as the ground was caked in blood, a river of gore, stretching for what seemed to be miles. The goblins seemed to learn that their previous swarm tactics were not going to work, either that or they had no swarm left, and I seriously hoped for the latter. A quick glance said otherwise.
“Can we just fill their tunnels with gas or water? Beats having to go down there.” I complained to the lt, but he was having none of it.
”Are you fucking retarded? You do realise how much gas or water we have to bring here, but the stupid amount of red tape we have deal with? Even if they’re the new world’s equivalent to pests, someone will make an uproar about it back home, and we’ll have our heads on a stake in an instant!”
I mentally groaned, thinking any amount of red tape would be better than a death. Oh well. Out of the frying pan. And the goblins go into a fireball. I really do not get paid enough for this bullshit. We slowly trudged towards an entrance, before cucking a few.grenades into them. If only we had warbcrime nades, or napalm grenades, surely some guy back home reccomended something like it. As the squeals of the goblins receded, we went in.