Chapter 1
April 3rd, 1964
Dallas, Texas, United States of America
1:20 AM
Being a journalist was not as fascinating as the pulp magazines and midnight screenings liked to portray it.
But he couldn't say it didn't take him to interesting places. Icheon, Berlin, Tokyo, and London were, of course, fine enough locations to visit for someone not very famous. He had, unfortunately, not been selected to go along with the swab of other American and international reporters who would be allowed to tour the main American base of operations where the invasion was being coordinated.
And an invasion it was.
The reporter glanced at his notebook and compared it with the vehicles just barely visible outside of the fenced-off area around the large black box that was the portal to another world. With the Dealey Plaza fenced off, the main street barely had room for one car to go through at a time, so walking there and standing outside to see the different branches of the armed forces was about as close as he could get. Sitting on large transport trucks, covered in a large tarp, more to hide from the elements than from prying eyes, were the first fighter jets that would be sent across the portal.
By now everyone knew the pair of squadrons that had been taken from varying air wings across the nation, some were rumored to have been on the way to being shipped to Vietnam before everything went topsy-turvy with that bizarre thing across the street, but so it was.
Several types of jets were officially being sent along for the time being, although a part of him suspected the military was more than happy to start experimenting with secret projects once the "war" on the other end was over... who knows? Maybe he’d get to see the latest models. In fact…
He checked his notes, reading them internally.
U-S-N sending F-4 Phantoms, A4 Skyhawks, U-S-A-F sending F-105 Thunderchiefs, F-100 Super Sabers... six of each aircraft confirmed so far, plus the additional U-S-A-F A1 Skyraiders through already, all to begin flying once the runway is completed... status of runway construction unknown, expected armament of these jets also unknown, pilots unknown, which wings these were taken from thus far unknown... possible plan to bomb the enemy capital or is the threat of flying hostiles greater than expected?
The reporter scratched his head with the tip of his pencil, wondering if he could strike up a conversation once the guards changed posts. Army and Marines weren’t that different when one got down to finer details, after all.
But really, he just needed a story.
As he stood up to stretch, the combat cameraman he was waiting for arrived on an Army jeep that moved swiftly down the mostly empty street. Once he stopped by the checkpoint, he quickly hopped off and moved to the entrance. The reporter ran over as the man fiddled with his identifications and managed to casually call out, "Ah, good morning, Private, what's the news?"
The man did not look at him as he handed the identifications to the MPs whose eyes were already narrowing at him. He ignored him and was happy to hear the young man answer with a frustrated, "Big fight happening right now. Helicopters keep coming and going, guys keep pushing into the mountains... Army ain't kiddin' when they said this was a war.”
Then, as the MP looked over his identification, he turned to him and handed him a small box of recently developed film. He took it without a word, but briefly opened it to ensure that the photos were all there.
The lieutenant quickly added, “Make sure you deliver these to your studio ASAP, alright?"
"Sure! Got any good scoops you can send my way?"
The private’s eyes appeared to dart between the MP and him in what could be exasperation, but he finally said "Yeah, wolf girls can see in the dark. Now get to it, this is going to be the front-page stuff and I want the Army getting more credit than the Jarheads, you hear me?!"
Not that different, still rivals depending on who one asked…
The reporter sighed and did as was told as the man was allowed through and he had to remain outside. Internally, he wondered what was happening on the other side of that strange structure that had the troops so excited. As he went back to waiting, he figured he’d know soon enough. For now, he would go to develop these “front-page” pictures, while his mind wondered just what “big fight” meant when the enemy combatants mainly used swords and spears.
Vicenzo
1:30 AM
The wall had been breached.
Dennis Orivlle continued running steadily ahead before stopping at the city’s western entrance. On the intact wall, guys around him were shooting wildly into the darkness beyond the city before an illumination round above them lit the fields for them, and, to him, showed the damaged wall clearly.
The wall’s western entrance had its large wooden door blown off its hinges, part of it still stuck to the wall and another part was in burning pieces on the ground just beyond it, but there were no bodies around the entrance that he could see, just guys firing less and less as the illumination round gave them a clearer vision of what they faced. The wall itself still seemed sturdy enough. Structurally safe enough to continue to use as a fortification, at least. Ancient stones over each other, stuck together less by cement and more by age, it seemed, with several cracks showing around the destroyed entrance. So it begged the question, just what in the world had caused that damage?
As Dennis moved forward, he heard platoon leaders shouting “Cease fire!” and the gunfire dissipated bit by bit before the only sound was the surrounding rumble of burning buildings nearby, with the night suddenly growing eerily peaceful it seemed.
Rhodes was particularly angry, and Dennis heard the last words out of his mouth even over the gunfire.
“...lobbed God damn H-E rounds!”
“Captain!”
Rhodes whirled around, and said “Orville! Damn it, I- What in God’s name is she doing here?!”
He glanced behind him less to confirm what he already knew and more to try and make it seem like he was just as exasperated that she'd followed them as well. Which he was, of course.
Princess Parthea Traianus, the daughter of the emperor who had ordered the attack on Dallas, had managed to keep in step with him and Alex, with her guards just barely keeping up with her as they'd moved towards the very front of an active combat zone.
The young woman seemed to understand without translation as she said “Tell him that I am here to help! What is the situation?!”
Before Dennis could even formulate a way her words could be communicated, Rhodes also seemed to miraculously understand what she'd said and still did not care enough to bother entertaining any of her ideas. With a huff, his captain stormed over, quickly barking back “You tell her to get the hell out of here, right now! That bastard’s are lobbing-”
Someone shouted, “Incoming!!!”
Dennis winced as something exploded just outside the wall, flames shooting upwards and the machine gun nests suddenly coming to life with long bursts into the darkness once more. Smoke rose from beyond the wall as a second explosion followed it from further down.
Parthea winced and shouted, “What is that?”
Rhodes only yelled back, “Damn it, Orville tell her to go back!”
Dennis got between Parthea and her gaze on the rising fire and smoke outside the wall. He sucked in a breath of dry air and shouted over the increasing gunfire.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Highness, head back to the governor’s palace and help there!”
Indignant, Parthea snarled back at him, “How dare you?! I cannot possibly abandon my duties in this battle here, good sir!”
One of her guards interjected with a much more polite “Highness, perhaps you should listen. The dangers here are far too great!”
Dennis quickly added, “Exactly. Carry your duties to the battle away from danger, and-”
“No, no, no, sir! My duty is here with my people!”
Oh, that is the last God damned straw!
Throwing out any respect and remaining ounce of professionalism still left in him, Dennis got up in her face, ignoring the hand of her guard as he shouted “If you die here guess what happens after this, princess! Guess! Go on! Guess!”
She began to stammer something, but he didn’t let her talk, jabbing a finger at her as he angrily exhausted the air in his lungs and probably turned blue.
“You aren’t helping anyone by being here! You are actively making the situation worse by staying because even more of your people and my people will get hurt trying to keep your stubborn ass away from harm! Listen to your guards, stop putting everyone around you at risk, and fall back, damn it!”
She took a step back, her eyes wide as even her guards did not disagree. Briefly, he wondered if anyone had spoken to her like that before. Maybe that wouldn't bode well for future relations. But truly he didn’t care anymore. She could file a complaint after the battle. When she didn’t object, he shouted to her guards.
“Take her back!”
They nodded and escorted her back through the darkness, the outskirts of the city continuing to burn, both lighting up the night and making it harder to see as light and darkness clashed in ways that could never allow the eyes to fully get accustomed to one or the other. Still, at least she was out of their hair.
And now…
“Orville?”
“I got her to go back, captain!” he called back and turned to the wall.
“Alright, come on. We’ve got to go help out some of the locals.”
“Hooah, captain!” he replied, trying to sound like he was more excited than he really was.
Having spent his entire life out in Rural Georgia, he had never seen chaos like this. Bedlam, no real organization, no real coordination, just a mad dash of civilians trying to control the city’s fires, and guys with no common tongue but a common goal tried to hold the walls.
Dennis half expected to see men trying to pour inside through the shattered gate, with maybe a few slipping past the hail of bullets from the American machine guns and actually managing to get into a brief melee with the worried-looking local soldiers, but the fight was not like that at all. The enemy wasn’t charging at them at all. Guys were firing wildly into the darkness wherever the flares illuminated. In the distance he heard rather than saw explosions from their mortar crews, and he hoped the lack of sleep on those boys didn’t affect their accuracy.
But there was no charge of bodies, no waves of bladed soldiers trying to get to the wall. Now on the wall, it was clear their side still held control. The mortars unleashed hell, and any infantry trying to come out of the surrounding woods or hills was actively prevented from it by the hail of rifles and machine guns lining the worryingly cracked wall.
And then there was the bigger issue.
Alex started barking off coordinates as far into the distance, by the forest, three lights could be seen.
“That’s the fifth God damned time this happens.” Rhodes managed before someone shouted what was already obvious.
Again, someone shouted “Incoming!”
They took cover quickly, ducking behind the stone segments as one of the lights suddenly shot skyward, briefly appearing almost like a flare. Then the second and third followed after it, but he could see them angle downward in the sky above. They slowed down for a second up in the air but quickly started to fall towards them.
Or perhaps, near them was more accurate.
The three consecutive explosions rocked the wall as if someone had taken a hammer to its side. Flames jutted upwards and quickly disappeared as smoke covered their segment of wall.
The local guys around them looked enraged, and for once, he could empathize. There they were, in leather armor and combat skirts that wouldn’t look good on a gal back home, using swords or short spears, hiding behind a relatively short wall, facing a crude imitation of high explosive artillery.
A younger one pointed at him.
“You speak?!” he called out in the local tongue as the smoke began to clear and the outbound mortar rounds flew overhead.
Dennis called back “Yes!”
The young man then demanded, “Did you teach Octavius how to do this?!”
Dennis had no response. At least, no professional one. All empathy had disappeared within him there and then. The one saving grace was the older guy.
With a slap to the kid’s head, another local soldier shouted “Focus! They might charge at any moment!”
Dennis rested his head against the stone wall behind him as more rounds from the mortars flew overhead in quick, ghostly whistles. There were a few more rifle cracks, and he hoped the range on the M14’s 7.62-millimeter rounds were doing their job in keeping Octavius from charging in, but a part of him started to think it would be better if the guy just tried to charge all his troops at their line.
They had guns.
Octavius did not.
His guys might have a bit of concealment in the tall grass, but grass wasn’t exactly good at stopping bullets or arrows. As he heard the impact of the mortar rounds, he only felt frustrated.
Rhodes seemed to voice his thoughts there and then, “These guys really don’t want to cooperate…”
“Captain?”
“We took out their wyverns, so they couldn’t fire bomb us with them, and now these…” he seemed at a loss for words, “What, proto-high explosive rounds?”
Alexander said, “Next chopper resupply is fifteen minutes out.”
“Right, tell them to strafe the forest on their way out. They’d have probably moved by then, but if they didn’t… well… no harm in it. Orville!”
“Captain?”
“The guys in the machine gun emplacement, thirty yards down the wall… they got a volunteer, and they’ll need you to get them to clear out.”
He blinked.
Volunteer?
***
“Her name’s Concordia.”
Concordia was a curious name.
In ancient Rome, it had been the name of the goddess of “agreements”, be it marriage or a simple trade deal.
Dennis glanced at the cat girl who stood by in her servant clothes still. Hastings sat by the machine gun in a silence that suggested guilt while Sean remained with an exhausted expression. The western wall’s surroundings in this section were perhaps the most hit by now. As another flare shot out, he could see a the various lumps that littered the ground in the fields.
Bodies.
He turned back to “Concordia”. The cat girl was still smiling, though she did adjust the blanket around herself more, her tail swinging side to side curiously, and her eyes with their eerie pupils focused on him. As Hastings was quiet, as was the machine gunner he didn’t recognize, he could guess that there was a practical reason there was a civilian there.
She spoke politely now that things had quieted down slightly, but he had no interest in her words.
“I can see in the dark and wish to help. I am happy to be of service, sire.”
“Just call me Orville, and no, we cannot have a civilian here.” He spoke, not in the mood for local pleasantries.
“Of course. Yet you introduced me to Hastings. I am grateful and wish to help.”
Hastings perked up having heard his name even with the woman’s pronunciation.
Dennis frowned, but said “Listen, we need to focus on staying alive, you understand? And we cannot have you here, we are sorry.”
“Of course! But the men are moving away now. They have learned that staying in one location kills, I believe. You need-”
“You see them? Clearly?”
“Not only that, but I can hear them.” She spoke quickly and pointed at her cat ears. Unlike the ears on the wolves they’d encountered, they were smaller, and thanks to her shortened dark hair, they almost blended in perfectly. He wondered briefly if the reason the rabbit girls he’d seen so far had long hair in order to also help their animal ears blend in further, but pushed the thought away.
“Again, I need you off the wall, it is not safe.”
As he spoke, the illumination round died and the field was again covered in darkness, worse as his eyes had not yet adjusted.
“Ah, by the hill! Six men are rushing out to the forest!”
As if on instinct, Dennis immediately switched to English, “Six men, one o’clock.” then, realizing what he’d just said and implied, corrected himself “But don’t waste your ammo.”
Concordia opened her mouth, the beginnings of a word were spoken, but an illumination round lit the field again. There were, indeed, six men trying to run.
“I see ‘em.” he heard Tom mutter.
The M60 crackled to life with a ten-round burst. Dennis’ eyes followed the few red tracers fly into the field and disappear. Maybe some into the dirt or into a tree. But several definitely hit flesh as the bodies fell, several out of sight behind the grass.
He motioned to Concordia and she bowed again, quietly moving away from her position on the wall, before waving to Hastings, a sad expression on her face. Still, she left with no fuss and Hastings put up none, which was for the best. Better the civilians remain safe and only be used in a total emergency, which the situation, dire as it seemed, had not fully devolved into just yet. Deep in the darkness, he could suddenly hear screaming, and further in the surroundings of the city, more gunfire.
How much more of this?