Director Morr was on the edge of his seat as the satellite imagery was intermixed with drone footage giving him a birds-eye perspective of the fighting. The sides of the mountain were dense with wooded terrain and several small avalanches had been caused by the defender’s explosive charges which kicked up a haze of snow that made even the top-down perspective hard to discern what was happening. Samples was on the other side of the room listening to the radio chatter of his men on the ground, it wasn’t going well for the infantry on the mountain.
“Sir, 34th platoon is requesting aerial bombardment on this grid coordinate.” A technician at a terminal in front of Samples motioned to his screen.
“Do they have confirmation on the target?” Samples asked calmy despite the technician being obviously on edge.
“Negative, only that it’s suspected, enemy combatants.”
“Damnit, give me the radio.” Samples snatched the comlink from the technician’s desk and took a deep breath.
“This is Bastion Nest 1, I will not be using drones indiscriminately on an elevated position. Confirm your targets and don’t be under them. You’re going to cause more avalanches than the insurgents calling in close air support above your position.” Samples tossed the radio back on the desk. While he did care for his men in the BDF he knew the education system in the Lower Caste was all but nonexistent and most of the BDF were uneducated cannon fodder, but still his cannon fodder.
“I should be out there with them, sir.” Samples walked over to Morr and clasped his hands behind his back more so from habit than any form of respect for the Director.
“We’ve already been over this Samples, you’re too valuable to risk.” Morr replied without looking up from the monitor.
“While I’m flattered I’d consider the lives of my men valuable as well.” Samples bit back instinctively.
“While it’s regrettable that so many may die you can rest easy that they’re not dying in vain. They’re eliminating a problem and even in death we can use the corpse as material.” Morr didn’t bother to look up from the terminal. He wasn’t paying attention to Samples and was too engrossed in the battle to notice the disgusted look on Samples’ face. While Samples had little information about the genetic research section he along with everyone else knew the rumors had to be true. No prisoners were kept long within the Bastion walls and his men that kept sentry duty outside the labs told him enough to make his skin crawl. Regardless, he had orders like everyone else and what they did inside the labs deep in the bowels of the Bastion may one day save them all.
“By your orders, sir.” Samples gritted his teeth to which Morr took notice off. He’d need to be more careful around the Major.
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Santos knew he was fast, it was why he was picked as a scout but keeping up with the Venator named Mouse was proving more difficult than he had expected. As large and bulky as they were he had been arrogant earlier when ordered to follow Mouse and report back what he saw. McBride needed to know if he could trust the Venators and if they were really fighting the BDF. Santos reported within the first five minutes of the fighting that Mouse had killed at least 8 BDF soldiers so loyalties were fairly obvious from Santos’ perspective.
Santos craned his neck around a wooden post that was supporting white netting covered in snow. He was hiding in a machine gun nest with several other militia soldiers that were less than enthused about him jumping in and out of there position but he needed to follow Mouse and this was the closest hiding spot. The radio started buzzing about another group of BDF moving to their sector of fire after being pushed back by a neighboring defensive line. Everyone shifted uncomfortably and braced in the tiny confines of the dirt and wood hut. Maybe a minute later the first blue uniforms broke through the tree line and started cresting the hill in front of them. Too far to engage without wasting ammunition for the machine gun team so they waited while the sporadic sniper fire started breaking the silence. What seemed like several minutes was in actuality only a few seconds as the BDF barreled into their position with reckless abandon. The M240 machine gun in the nest started chugging away at belts of ammunition as the gunner gave precise bursts on the targets.
Santos knew Mouse had gone into the trenches in front of them earlier but now he was starting to wonder if he had missed him get out, it had been too long without visual. The BDF soldiers dove into the trench in front of them that had been vacant since the last wave and now only contained dead Militia. The 240 began firing faster as the enemy neared and they quickly switched out barrels when the one they had been using started glowing red. Santos leaned over the sandbags and started firing at the trenches to give the machine gun team time to reload and replace the barrel. The BDF rifles fired intense beams of heat that tore through the sandbags where they weren’t thick enough and forced Santos to duck down. He could hear someone outside the machine gun nest screaming and wondered how many of the militia had already been wounded. The firing above his head stopped and he resumed his attempt to halt the BDF advance with his rusted M4. He went to reload and a drone flew by overheard startling him and causing him to drop his magazine. Before he could grab it he was shaken from an explosion on top of their neighboring machine gun nest. He moved the snow-covered cloth and saw the bunker was a crater, no one could have survived.
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“Good thing you picked this one eh?” One of the machine gunners laughed. Santos didn’t see the humor since drones had several payloads and they were the next likely target. Santos looked around for another spot to hunker down when he noticed several BDF were crawling out of the trench and shooting back inside it which made no sense. They had searched the trenches for wounded militia and gotten everyone out. His answer came when a Venator stepped out of the trench and stabbed a BDF soldier with his fist before firing his rifle at another. Santos caught himself watching the Venator slaughter of the BDF and had to remind himself to keep shooting.
“He’s never gonna make it.” The soldier that had replaced the barrel of the 240 mumbled as the Venator ran to the treeline with snow and dirt kicking up all around him as everyone on the field targeted him.
“What are you waiting for? Cover him!” Santos yelled at the machine gun team that finally resumed firing. Santos didn’t want the Venator to get shot but was thankful he had drawn so much attention from the machine gun nest which had several holes in the camo netting.
They really want him dead.
Just as the Venator reached the treeline the gunfire turned it’s attention back towards Santos’ position.
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One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, aaaaand now.
BOOM
Rook used the cover of the explosion to rush the BDF line. With his thermals, he could see through the smoke and debris while the BDF were clueless to his attack. One soldier was bent over another and applying a tourniquet but Rook’s gauntlet severed his throat and showered the wounded soldier on the ground in his would-be savior’s blood. No stranger to violence Rook was thinking 2 steps ahead and had another target picked out. A BDF Officer was yelling into a radio while tapping on a tablet, most likely giving grid coordinates to the drones. Rook stepped out of the smoke and rushed the Officer’s position while several soldiers shouldered their rifles towards him. They were too late and Rook slammed into the Officer, he didn’t even use his blade as the force behind the impact sent the Officer into the rocky dirt where his neck bent back in a disgusting position. The Soldiers started firing at Rook but he was already in their lines so the panicked gunfire tore into their own comrades while grazing harmlessly off Rook’s armor. He had to be careful though as any BDF snipers would be using gauss rifles that would tear through the suit but so far he had been lucky. The BDF line dissolved as Rook tore them apart with his gauntlet while occasionally using his sidearm to reach BDF that were too far away.
The close quarters battle doctrine had been Baron’s idea and before they split up to reinforce the militia he reiterated the necessity in keeping as much of the militia alive as possible by getting in close. Rook had other motivations besides just the militia. Rachel was in the far Bunker to his North that housed one of the Hawk Missiles and he used every moment he could afford to keep an eye on it. Last night he felt something he had never experienced before and was determined to keep her no matter the cost.
Fueled by his own instinct to protect the women he cared for, Rook gave no quarter and was ruthless in his execution of his duties. He wasted no time killing the injured despite Baron having years ago told him that was the merciful and right thing to do. Rook had other aspirations now and while he respected Baron, he wouldn’t understand what having someone felt like and the injured were a waste of time that could be better spent killing others.
A soldier rounded a corner in the trench Rook was in and he grounded his face into the wooden post holding the dirt at bay. The bloody pulp collapsed and Rook went to the next target, a soldier crawling out of the trench. Rook didn’t want to waste time dragging the soldier closer to use his blade and resorted to his sidearm. One round in the back of the soldier’s head stopped his futile effort to get out of the mud-covered slit. The next target was a crashed drone, he had spotted it about a minute earlier when the Hawk missile from Rachels bunker struck it. The drone had been heading straight for the bunker with a full payload of visible munitions that were undetonated as they never had time to arm. Several BDF were using the drone as cover while Militia peppered them with small arms fire. It was no comparison as the BDF rifles tore through the cover the militia was using. The high powered beam rifles incinerated the sandbags that were placed too thin and the sound of screaming came from the militia line.
Rook took his own rifle off his back and knelt in the snow. The snow was always dirty but now it was barely recognizable as snow. Rather it was a thick slurry substrate that contained the matrix of battle in the form of blood, ash, and smoke. Rook fired in quick secession as he knew the BDF would get to cover once they became aware of him. The 4 soldiers on Rook’s side of the drone never had the chance as they all toppled over one after the other. Rook stood up and was about to charge the drone to kill the soldiers on the other side when he heard something. A low flying drone behind him, towards Rachels bunker. He turned around just in time to see it pass over and a split second before the bunker was split asunder, sending wood and dirt flying into the air.
This is the time when a human feels grief, sadness, and hopelessness but Rook wasn’t human in this moment. He was refined aggression as it was his only defense against the pain he felt inside.