Captain Alois Fischer
Crossroads 1-1
Italica | Safe-House
The briefing itself was simple enough in nature. A basic outline of what was supposed to happen based on the information that had been provided from Alnus hill only a few minutes prior to the brief in f which had just concluded in the tiny and cramped loft that was the sace house of Italica. If everything was to go according to plan the Recon Section wouldn't even have to fire a single bullet until the Air Cavalry came swooping in to rip Italica a new one. Both for the defending Imperials and the invading North Company. An issue that it seemed Command back at Alnus wasn't even sure to deal with. Thus as always the final judgment had been left up to the Recon Section, just as the Rules of Engagement had been prior to their leaving the fort on Alnus Hill. But if the previous day's events and the track record for the Special Region as a whole were anything to go off, odds were stacked against them for a clean execution. It was a common trend of things in the Special Region to go wrong, and it all stemmed from a lack of intelligence provided by Alnus Hill. Though to be fair this wasn't Afghanistan where twenty or so satellites always had a clear picture on what was happening on the ground and could provide intel at the snap of a finger. Instead hours and even days old information made up the backbone of the Recon Section and United Nations operations in the Special Region. Not the best to be giving soldiers who would face odds stacked against them twenty to one in some cases.
Yet, it was simply the nature of United Nations operations as a whole. It had been since the first day that the news surrounding the GATE expeditionary mission was given out to nations and their governments across the world. The United Nations knew nothing about this world besides the fact that it wasn't ours, and in no small surprise the first troops across the breach, Fischer included, were presented with a massive clusterfuck of a hundred thousand strong army waiting on just past the front door. And they had just stepped on the welcome mat and opened the front door. The same story was repeated during the first mission outside the white walls of Alnus Hill. No information on what was going on left four hundred some dead Imperials and horses laying on a road only about fifty kilometers outside of Alnus, in a messy pile of blood and body parts. Thus the cycle was about to come around full circle in the cramped corners of the Italica Forward Observation Post. Though to be fair they had received some information on the developing situation, it only helped to paint the same picture every soldier of the Recon Section had painted in their head since the minute the convoy stopped at the foot steps of Italica. It was of course, that of a bloody battle for those on the receiving end of their weapons.
Thus it would be assumed that the orders only given a few minutes would be safifactoy to the Recon Section, as in truth they weren't any different than the orders they had been given since the whole Operation on the Special Region developed. A typical example of United Nations Bureaucracy it was hard for the countries on Earth to truly make up their minds on what exactly they should be doing in the Special Region. Should they be toppling the Empire like they had done so many times in the middle east, or should they peacekeep, like the close memories of disasters across Africa and the world. It wasn't an easy question to answer and thus many side decided to play their bid for what the operation should be. Leaving it as a clusterfuck for the troops on the ground who had no clue whether they were peacekeepers or combat troops. A question that if left unanswered could bring devastating effects for both the UN troops and the Natives on the ground. All it took was one overlooked rule and an entire village could be burned to the ground, whether caused by the hand of the UN or some other party in the Special Region they weren't allowed to deal with for a lack of a clear plan or protocol.
It was something easily reflected in the small situation currently unfolding on Italica as the UN was posed with their age old enemy; what to do in response to a hostile groups action. Do they simple sit back and wait out the storm, hoping their mere presence would drive away the hostile forces and make them reconsider their actions. Or do they finally get the green light to go ahead and remove the threat altogether. All too often it was a question that was left up to be answered after the fighting had stopped and the combatants and sometimes even neutral UN peacekeepers lay dead in the streets and forests of backwater third world nations. Italica was no different. Just as they had in Alnus for months on end, the Recon Section again sat, powerless, watching as the events around them unfolded. They could only watch as barbarians attempted to slaughter innocents and burn a small town to the ground, and even with their heavenly powers of discussion and death, the Recon Section could not be found to move itself to defend the city. Though such a fact was only partially their fault, as despite the lack of rules of engagement placed upon them, they were only a platoon facing off against a small army, and they had no support besides a single Type-89 parked in some bushes and trees a kilometer or so away from the walls of the city. Even if they wanted to act, which was clear from the faces repeatedly glancing towards the windows, they couldn't do much. At least for the time being that was.
It was no surprise then, that many in the Recon Section would be unhappy with such an order to simply sit by and wait, knowing all hell was about to break loose on the small and once peaceful trade city below. Despite having never partaken in the first battle that had started well before the strange green convoy even arrived within a few kilometers of the cities walls, they all knew the outcome of a second battle. The invaders, easily doubling the numbers of their defenders would easily break through the walls when they launched their second attack. The Defenders were tired, having likely brought up most of their reserves to fight in the first battle in some feeble but loucky attempt to hold the wall from the invading army. And now they were to be faced by hundreds of rested and equally trained soldiers. Not the best odds for the defending city, and all the more reason for the Recon Section to get involved. It was a thought likely on everyone's mind, Fischer's included, but few would seem to wish to speak their mind. Likely they all knew the response they would get from the Captain, as much as they likely knew it pained him to speak such words to them. But some people simply wish to hear answers for themselves, even if they already know they'll dislike it, and soon enough Fischer was approached by two soldiers, likely a number of questions on their minds.
The first to approach was a recent addition to the team, an American spook, much like Thompson, though this man choose not to attempt to hid the fact that he was a spook of some sort. Even in the dark of the loft, with the only source of light being the soft and creamy rays of moonlight that shined through the windows, evidence of a near full moon, it wasn't hard to distinguish the man from any other soldier. Unlike those who were combatants, it was easy to see the man carried himself much differently. Just by his walk and the almost cautious way he approached Fischer, it was easy to see he was no simple soldier. At the very least Thompson tried to mask such an appearance to the others, if sometimes to no avail, but this man seemed proud to hold the title of Spook, and dutiful so. Though it didn't mean it made Fischer or anyone else that much more contempt with having him on board the mission. Spooks have decency to really mess up combat operations, and not just in Fischer's own experience of working with them in the middle east years ago. They had a tendency to put national interests before operational interests, a tendency that rubbed Fischer and others the wrong way. But command at Alnus had stuck him onto the Recon Section and there was little they could do about it now. The spook was quickly followed by another man, dressed in darker clothes and wearing from his shadow, as Fischer was sitting facing the windows, a balaclava. An interesting choice on the heat of what was likely the Special Region summer. Though he had seen operators use them in Afghanistan as well, so it must not have been that bad. Likely another one of the newer guys, whether inspired by the actions of the spook or not, with questions on his mind that needed answer. However as the two approached and began to talk, it seemed they were rather their to raise their own concerns for the mission than anything else.
Captain Fischer, we haven’t had a chance to be properly introduced. My name is Andrew O’Connor, pleasure to be here. Not the time I know, but I won’t get paid if I don’t follow the technicalities. Now I’m sorry to interrupt your reading but I think we might have a situation | There’s a good chance that the North Company will break through. The siege might run out of steam but we’ll likely be exposed during the attack. We’ve got the position and armament to deal with that for a short time but I feel like I have to mention the serious risk of irreversibly damaging our relations with the locals here. On one hand, we’re at major risk of hitting unintended targets but if we try to limit ourselves we’re at a bigger risk of being overrun and cut down. Of course, you know this and none of us are here to complain. And it's not like we don’t have options, we can turn the courtyard into a complete kill zone and deal with the future retaliations when and where they come. We can stick to silenced weapons and try to fight surgically, take out the leaders or the odd soldier who gets to close and hope it's enough. Truth be told sir, we’ve got dozens of different ways to fight but each leaves us with a different risk, downside or cost. My concern is that while we can deal with any remnants and the odd patrol, we’d be hard pressed to stand against either force after they regroup. So, I'd like to propose another option, we go loud. Make a stand against the north company if they reach us, take down any forces if they get too close and turn the area into our own designated safe zone for non-combatants. We’d hopefully get the local civies on our side and for when the defenders show up, we’ve got their citizens in our custody. Practically force them to listen to us. I’m not saying we should do this, or that it’s a good idea. But our resident green priest has shown some sway with the locals before. If she could do it again, when the gate comes down and people start running we could convince some of them that the courtyard is protected by some barrier, or something. Meanwhile, any attackers come, they’ll see the group of civies and ignore our little old abandoned house giving us a clear shot with minimal risk. Everything goes well and we might finally get a chance to talk to the empire | What we do is your call sir, I’ll keep on standby for anything but we can’t afford another massacre against the empire and this may be our only chance chance to strong arm the officials into talking. One way or another, we need to get them to the table sirAlmost instantaneously following the remarks of O'Connor, the other man, introducing himself as one James Ryan, the team's combat engineer is he could remember properly, butted in with his own take on what the direction of the Recon Section's mission should be. Apparently it would seem he had missed much of Fischer's earlier briefing as many of his point we're simply those loosely said in the brief not but two minutes ago.
Sir, it's Ryan, probably not my place to say, but I reckon we should help the civvies, fend off the North Company. From what we mostly know about medieval history, I'm pretty sure civilian casualties weren't that big of a topic.Both had broughten up interesting questions or rather concerns regarding the mission. In the case of both, but more so the young warrant officer, James Ryan, the concerns had largely already been covered in the briefing only a few moments prior. Recalling correctly he had specifically stated one of their main objectives, even outlined by Alnus themselves, the place responsible for so much bureaucracy it was a wonder it got anything aside from eating done, had specifically ordered them to do. That was the peacekeeping prospect of their mission after all. Something they had executed in Coda a day prior, and something many back home on Earth had been hoping for from the minute they decided to send a bunch of soldiers across the GATE and into the Special Region. The concerns of O'Connor, on the other hand were much more interesting. As in truth, the briefing has left out a lot of the smaller details, such as what was to go down when the call was eventually made for them to step in, in support of protecting the civilians and driving back the North Company. For the most part it was mainly owed to the fact Fischer or anyone for that matter had no idea what was to happen. It would take well over an hour for air support and reinforcements in the form of an Air Cavalry company, to arrive to support their operations in Italica. Thus what happened between the North Company;s attack and the arrival of the Air Cavalry was much in the air. Getting involved to early could spell doom for the Recon Section, and getting involved to late could spell the same for both them and the civilians still inside the city's walls. It was no wonder than that O'Connor had brought up such a point, though most soldiers were probably already aware of such information.
Closing his book with a sudden snapping noise, Fischer shifted his body in the chair to better position himself in respect to the two men who had just approached him. Sitting straight up the two men, who were luckily similar in height, had gathered standing shoulder to shoulder and facing him, a look of anticipation on their faces. Fischer first turned to Ryan and then O'Connor, meeting their gaze before shifting his own back towards the moonlit night, barely visible through the window and between both of the men. Letting out a small breather Fischer began to answer them, voice as calm and steady as ever, "I'm well aware of the dangers facing the citizens and defenders of this city. It's unlikely they'll be able to hold a siege for long, when it inevitably arises." He paused for a moment, attempting to choose the right words to avoid sounded to off putting, "But, our place here isn't as a diplomatic envoy to meet with the Imperials located here. I'm sure you're aware, as am I, that if the North Company had not been here, we could very well be taking their place as of current." It was a true statement. Had the Recon Section arrived earlier it was likely the city would be under United Nations control hours ago. That would be, if the people back home and at Alnus could ever figure out what they wanted to do. Even so it was likely the place would end up under UN control one way or another. "Yet, I don't wish to see the city over run with brigands anymore than the rest of the Recon Section, or the Imperials sitting in complex up on the hill." There was another pause as he ran over some of the man's words in his head and the situations he had laid out. "That being said, exposing ourselves to early or too late would be disastrous to ourselves and the civilians here. Thus this operation needs to be timed correctly. I plan on radioing Alnus the second the first North Company arrow flies over that wall. Then it's only a matter of holding out for an hour. So long as the Imperials can last thirty minutes without our help, we'll be fine." Opening back up his book, he flipped through the pages once again attempting to find his place. "And besides" he spoke without even removing his eyes from the pages, "What's better, holding some people hostage or wiping out a few hundred soldiers as a show of force?" It was a rhetorical question as both of the men already knew the answer.
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Sometime Later | Italica Safe House
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The Recon Section, just prior to the operation in Italica had split off into two distinct groups before the main mission, that of course entering into the city began. Two of the Fire Team Two's members, Thompson and Karev, departed on a small mission to scout out the North Company positions and gain what info they could. In hindsight it was a relatively useless mission, as Alnus had already delivered reliable aerial reconnaissance to them only fifteen minutes prior to the pair's departure from the main group. It was also likely that Alnus was in the process of clearing some sort of recon unmanned aerial vehicle or UAV for use by the Recon Section over Italica. Effectively making it the first UN operation in the Special Region to have a reliable and constant information on enemy positions and the area and terrain around a mission zone. A welcome sight for the Recon Section which had relied on crudely drawn maps and even cruder estimate for the last few months and days of their stay in the Special Region. A fact that made sense given the overall importance of such a mission in Italica. A mission that likely could produce the first contact with an actual Imperial authority and bring them one step close to solving the mystery of the Special Region and get a picture of what the hell was going on. And of course what happened to all the missing civilian, a topic likely reintroduced to many with the prospect of being in a trading town.
Thus it would seem strange that a two man Recon Team would be needed at all given the current state of how operations were going, not to mention the fact that the Recon Section would likely need all the help they could get given something were to go wrong on the current infiltration mission. But in reality the decision to allow a recon party to exist was more of a morale and unit consisting mission than anything else. A common problem with United Nations operations, especially in Fischer's experience was friction. People of different countries and even more so soldiers, hold different values and ideas, and so when lead by someone who may not embody those ideas, never mind the fact Thompson was just as much a paperwork cowboy as his name implied, there is a lot of fiction generated. It was easy to see the American wasn't exactly having the best time being cramped up in the compartments of the Iveco, nevermind his philosophy difference with the Captain. Thus it was only natural that they would have to split from the program soon enough and get some fresh air for themselves. And what better way than to go on a Recon Mission deep in enemy territory. Obviously some people have different views on relaxation than others. But then again there isn't terribly much to do in a combat zone, let alone for entertainment anyways.
The only problem that arose was with timing. As requested by Fischer, the pair was only to spend around a half an hour to an hour in the areas around the Southern Gate of Italica. At which point they were supposed to rally up with Pierre on the North Eastern corner of the city and be lead to the safe house where the other members of the Recon Section would already be waiting. Though it would seem this wouldn't be the case at all, as over three hours later no sign of the team had been reported anywhere. They had said they were engaging North Company forces, despite struct orders not too, though it was doubtful they could be doing so for over three hours. Even if that was somehow the case, they would have heard it somehow or at least noted shifts in both the Imperial and North Company forces to accommodate for such a thing. The only thing they had maintained as constant throughout the operation was their us3e of radio silence. For better or worse they would be off the radar until they arrived at the safe house, or matters got so bad that they eventually radioed Fischer and the others to let them know the situation. At the very least they had two hours to make it back into the city least they were to miss out on second battle, for better or worse.
After having answered the questions or more reasonably the concern of several members of the Recon Section, one of which was a spook much like Thompson, Fischer returned to his reading. There wasn't terrible much to do anyways, with the battle still likely a number of hours off, and anything like talking served to risk them being caught by the passing guard. Something they were well aware of as torches and bonfires could be seen across the walls and small courtyard directly outside of their positioning. Regular patrols were both a good sign and bad. Good in the fact that the Imperials could still muster and Garrison defence for all their positions, but bad in the light that it meant the Recon Section's mission just got multiple times harder than it already was. And the fun was just beginning. Only around ten minutes or so after his conversation with O'Connor and Ryan, Fischer was interrupted from his reading by the voice of Pierre. Shifting his head over towards the staircase, which lay to his left he spotted the head of the man just poking above the staircase no more than a meter or two away from his current position. He spoke to Fischer about the arrival of some friends old and new. No doubt referring to the return of Thompson and Karev, though the mention of a new friend was slightly worrying. The appearance of another Native was a big security threat to the Recon Section, and could prove dangerous.
With this in mind Fischer closed his book with a quick juster, though placed his hand inside the pages of the book to avoid a thumping sound that had originated when the first pair of Recon Section soldiers had brought their concerns forward to him. Standing he looked around the loft, still painted a soft grey color from the glow of the moon, but now a crispy crimson color had risen from the torches and fires lit by the Imperials below. It was a strange combination of colors. A black and white background with small hints of red and yellow reflecting off of the Green uniforms and helmets that each member of the Recon Section wore. Rather than approach the staircase where Pierre waited with the returning members of the Recon Section, Fischer instead made his way over towards the center of the room. Treading carefully to avoid the creaking that plagued the old and worn floor boards of the loft, he eventually found his way over toward Orisa, the young translator. If it was true Thompson and Karev had brought a native with them, Orisa would be incredibly useful. As he approached the young girl, who had somehow managed to fall back asleep despite her earlier outburst, Fischer lowered himself to a crouching position next to her. Leaning down, about a meter away he spoke in a quiet voice, "You need to get up, you're needed." Upon hearing his voice the girl nearly half way jumped from her bed. Whether she was more stunned to hear the voice of Fischer speaking to her, or the fact that she was needed for something, he didn't know. But sure enough she got up and after rubbing her eyes a few times, proceeded to follow him down the stair to where the majority of the Recon Section, including the new arrival, had been waiting.
Climbing down the old staircase, the familiar creaking sound that had first come from Fischer's ascension could now be heard on his descent back to the main area of the house. It was soon followed by the lighter and quieter sounds of Orisa walking down the same staircase only a few seconds behind Fischer. Coming into the main area, even with the open space, and lack of windows facing the courtyard, where both natural light from the moon and the artificial light of the Imperial's Fires floated softly through, it was still easy to make out the features of those around them. Most on the first floor had taken up positions on the ground and away from the windows to avoid being spotted by any passing Imperials or risk their helmets and rifles giving their position away. Some had taken to half sleeping, as evident by they constant fidgeting rather than still and soft movements. Others simply sat, checking their rifles over or quietly whisper their thoughts to one another. It would seem Fischer was the only one clever enough to bring a book with him on the mission, though in truth it was more a journal than anything. The behaviors, however, made it quite simple to pick Pierre and the others out from the other soldiers. Pierre himself sat in one of the chairs that surrounded the large wood table that was no doubt the dining room. Twelves chairs in total, all made from fine craftsmanship as one would expect of a merchant's house, sat around an oval shaped table. Directly across from Pierre sat a small figure, noticeably more feminine and smaller than any of the others in the room. No doubt the native Pierre had been talking about. To the right or left of the chair stood two soldiers, easily identifiable by their rifles slung across their chests and matching forms. Despite the shadow cloaking their faces, it was easy enough to tell apart Thompson and Karev by the rifles they held.
Fischer first turned his attention to the two men standing behind the newly arrived native, that of course being Thompson and Karev. His features remaining the same emotionless and stoic as ever he let out a small breath for address both men simultaneously, "Your about" He paused looking down at his watch which read about two hundred and fifteen hours "Three and a half hours late. Great time gentleman." His voice came out with an almost sarcastic tone, if light. It was a rare sight of dry humor from the Captain, no thanks in part to the pair's own lateness of lack of communication during the operation. It was also a representation of the situation as a whole, as a majority of it was completely uncertain and the Captain held an old habit of making feeble attempts at dry humor when pressed into a situation of unknowns. But just as quickly as he had let it slip, his voice regained the same calm tone as usual, "I assume she" His gaze dropped towards the woman sitting before than for a moment "is the native you informed me about earlier." Both of the men nodded in response to which Fischer replied in turn, "Well, this is certainly not what I expect, and I doubt either of you was able to brief her. For now, get some rest." He turned to the Old Man, "And if you don't mind, you can brief them while I focus on our new native." With that all three men moved towards another area of the room leaving Fischer and Orisa in the dining room with the new Native.
Shifting his position to the area in which the Old Man had once been sitting, Fischer was able to get a better look at the newly arrived guest. As he had assumed from her figure and size she was none other than a young woman, appearing to be quite a bit shorter than Fischer, and set around the height of Orisa, if not a slight bit taller. With the moonlight now filtering into the room, he was able to make out more of her features. She wore a simple grey and white colored coat of some kind. It was tight fitting, though appeared to be light and appeared almost dress like in style. Likely having something to do with heat of the Special Region's springs and summer, yet it most likely also held some sort of sex appeal as well. Despite being quite small, she appeared as if she could be in her early twenties. Though as he moved to study her face, he was met with an interesting surprise. Her hair of a smooth and creamy white, not unlike the white of her own dress. Her eyes carried a similar color, almost appearing grey, a sharp contrast to the shining blue eyes of Fischer and the dark earthy eyes carried by Orisa. Yet the most striking feature was her long and pointed ears, something he almost immediately recognized as the sign of an elf. Though the realization of such a fact was apparently lost on Fischer, as he didn't even bat an eye. He had seen much stranger things in the Special Region thus far, but the elf seemed to be the first of its kind he had come across.
Turning to Orisa who was equally passive at the sight of the elf, likely having run into one or two before in her travels, he began to speak to her, "I need you to translate what I say." The young girl simply nodded, it being an almost routine by this time. He next turned to face to young elf, who perked at the strange green man's normally cold gaze staring her down. "My name is Captain Alois Fischer, I work for the United Nations. This is Miss Orisa Yamasee." He passed, watching as the elf's face twisted upon hearing the strange words spoken by the even stranger man in green clothes. Though as Orisa translated them back to the elf, her face began to relax, but still carried the same questioning look upon her face. Seeing as Orisa had finished he continued, "We are here to help you, and the other people within Italica. But " He paused searching for the name that Karev had only told him a few moments earlier. Finding it he continued, "Althea, we need you to co-operate with us. We apologize for the inconvenience." He paused again allowing Orisa to finish before continuing for a final time. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask Orisa." He questered towards to young girl who flashed a small smile towards the newly arrived elf. With that, Fischer made his way towards Thompson, Kareve, and the Old Man to get the update on what had gone on outside of the walls, and to make sure the two were caught up on what was going to be going down inside of them when the time came.
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Sometime Later | Italica Complex | Imperial War Room
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The main and most prominent and at that most important building in Italica was the main complex that rested up a hill in the center of the town. It sat above most of the other buildings in the trading town, making it easily visible to both the Recon Section hiding within the city's own walls, and the North Company soldiers eagerly waiting outside of the East Gate with hopes of eventually taking the building for themselves. The latter of which those who currently inhabited the building and the many houses, designated as safe zones by the Imperials, surrounding it. It would, however, be wrong to call the building a castle, as it lacked the large stone walls and watchtowers, never mind the moats and ramparts that most would associate with a castle. In anything the outer wall of the trade city resembled a castle far more than the cities main hive. As such it was likely better to call it a Complex than anything else for lack of a better term. While high and mighty, made of stone even, and with smaller ramparts and walls surrounding it, it looked more like a large fort than anything. There even appeared to be plenty of room for merchants to set up their wares for selling, though for the time being it was used as a staging ground for the Imperial soldiers as well as a field hospital for the many wounded who were still coming in and being treated houres after the last arrow of the the battle was fired.
Though, if there was a single place that served to act as the complex's or even the town's castle, it would be the inside. Unlike what one might have expected of such a fort like complex, the inside was quite ornate and might have confused one to believing it was the home of a noble, as it once was. Large painting depicting bast owners and great battles could be seen hanging in almost everyone and across all the many walkways and corridors of the complex's internal lay out. Smooth and polish hardwood floors lay in the place of normal stone or dirt and were often covered by ornate rugs, likely hand made in the capital or the mighty skin of some beast, hunted by the owns of the keep many years ago. As in the case of the merchants hours the Recon Section was currently using as a safe house, the furniture of the complex was wood in nature and even more fine than that of the Safe House. Large solid cuts of smooth dark wood made up the tables and chairs that were no doubt used for dining. Light wood was used to accent these very pieces, like in the case of an almost birch color and styled wood laid across the outward edge of the table to round it off and give it a highlight that made it stand out in the room full of other beautiful hand crafted furniture. This pattern repeated itself all across the many rooms of the complex. Including a large and open room, filled with only a single large wooden table and a mess of papers strewn about it. Once a great dining hall that would no doubt entertain the lord of the complex and its many quests, had been turned into a war and planning room not unlike the one the Recon Section currently had set up in their own dining room of the safe house.
Yet rather than be filled with lords and knights bending over papers in every direction to attempt to get a new angle of attack or guess the next move of the enemy, it was filled with only two people, quite different in just about every way, a dish of wine and small cheeses to serve as a snack and a likely a transition point of conversation between the two, and some candles to light the night room. One one side of the night table which stretched to fill most of the room, save for areas to walk around, sat a young girl not much past the age of twenty. She wore a simple red, gold, and blue dress, not unlike the colors of the flags that stood hanging from the walls of the small room, with a small coat on top of it, accompanied by leggings and some boots. On top of her dress sat light plate armor covering much of her upper chest, as well as her shoulders, arms, and others body parts, not unlike a typical cavalier or social knight. Her hair was long and of an almost scarlet red color, braided back in some areas, while flowing beautifully in others. Her eye's were a sharp contrast, sitting a light blue, not much lighter than that of the flags behind her. The person across from her, however, was a different story. Sitting much older, with grey hair easily visible both on his head and around jaw line, he was easily forty some years major to the young woman sitting across from him. He also wore no clothes baring a symbol, and was dressed in simple robes with plate armor visible above them. Like the young woman who had a sword sheathed at his side, he instead carried two axes, one on each side, and a shield that now sat resting next to his chair rather than upon his back.
It was evident by the low level of the candles and the puddles of wax growing below them that the pair had been in the room for sometime, discussing all nature of things, but most notably the members of the Recon Section and the United Nations as a whole. The man sitting on the left of the table was once, though technically still was, a guide of the Recon Section which currently sat resting in Italica. Having been separated from them during the ordeal in Coda Village he had somehow reasoned that asking someone he was aware was an enemy of the Recon Section for help in locating them. And by some miracle or curse he had ended up face to face with an Imperial Princess in the process. Thinking the man to likely be a spy either for the North Company or the Recon Section, the young princess had decided to take the man back to the Imperial Command to be questioned. And with Florina and the Landgrave in the medical yard, she was alone left to question the strange man, and hopeful get some information out of him. Luckily for her, and unluckily for Fischer, the man seemed all to willing to talk. Yet it seemed after sometime the conversation had died down. Likely due to the fact the man did not know much about the Recon Section. He did not speak their language and had large been absent from most of the Recon Section's ordeals and operations up to that point. Someone like Orisa, who had knowledge both of the language and people of the Recon Section would be of far more help. But in the case of the young princess, she would have to take what she could get.
Wishing Florina or even the Landgrave could have been there to assist, she never the less attempt to strike back up the conversation, "May I ask, how many of these men from beyond the GATE did you say there were?" Her voice was tired, having been without sleep for many hours and exhausted from the previous battle.
The man himself was quick to answer, still full of energy and likely adrenaline, he responding almost as soon as she had finished talking, "There are about ten of the earth soldiers when we were separated from them." In reality it was much closer to about sixteen soldiers, nineteen if you counted the Type-98 Crew, and twenty one if you counted the two Special Region Natives, Orisa and Althea. But such information was unknown to the man at such a time. "I again ask that if you help me search for them, they will gladly help with the defense of this city." Another piece of information that the man was out of the loop on. Despite having seen the Recon Section effortlessly cut down hundreds of Imperial Soldiers in a few minutes, not long after they left Alnus, he seemed oblivious to fact that they were enemies of the Imperials.
It was a fact the young princess seemed aware of however. Despite having been left in the dark about what truly happened at Alnus and beyond the GATE for that matter, it was clear to her that these strange foreign soldiers were a threat to her and to the Empire. Thus she choose her next question careful, "How can such a small band of men being so powerful?" She asked in a tone almost resembling that of a rhetorical question.
Yet before she would even be given a chance to respond she was interrupted as a soldier, obviously winded stepped into the room and knelt before the young Princess. Panting and in dire condition the man simply help a small slip of paper up to the woman before collapsing onto the ground. The young princess almost hesitantly accepted the piece of paper, unfolding it to reveal a quickly written note as shown by the poor handwriting accompanying it.
Your highness, Princess Cordelia,
Your presences is required at the East Gate immediately. Just as he had suspect the North Company has decided to launch another push against us. Our men our tired and the enemy is seemingly full of renewed strength. Luckily they seem to be diverting their forces toward breaching this wall. We ask that you quickly route as many men as possible to our position to help fend them off. If we don't receive help soon, I fear we will only be able to hold for less than an hour.
Thank you,
Captain of the East Guard
Upon finishing the letter, she turned to the messenger who now sitting had regained his strength after a few blocks of cheese and some of the young Princess' water she had hanging from her side. She first turned to the man sitting across from her, addressing him in an urgent voice, "I am sorry to say, but it appears your
friends will have to wait for another time." She paused for a second considering allowing him to join her. Seeing as they were low enough on men already, another soldier certainly would help, even if only a little. "But if you would be willing to assist us in battle, I see no reason we can not look for your friends when the day is won." She then turned her attention to the messenger. "Go out and find Florina and Landgrave Berian. Inform them of this at once." And with that, all three hurried from the room in their own directions.
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East Gate of Italica | 03:45 Hours
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Just about an hour from daybreak, the walls of Italica were surprisingly calm. A sharp contrast to the storm of death and destruction that had just plagued the South Gate only hours before. Still, the South Gate showed its fair share of scars. The night wood doors that shut it off from the invading armies or anyone that would dare attempt to breach the great walls, in this case the North Company, were cracked and scorched. Evidence of North Company soldiers both attempting to use battering rams and fire to remove the great doors from their places in the wall. But superb craftsman ship had and metal reinforcements had prevent either attempt from succeeded. Scattered all around, both the court yard and might some walls, were the broke shafts of arrows launch by the North Company over the walls. They were littered in random directions, sometimes in solid bars of twenty or thirty and other times in random assortments. No doubt the space where some poor soul had been struck by an arrow respectively. More towards the top of the wall one could find hundreds of broken arrow shafts and head. Intact arrows had already been gathered by the defending Imperials to arm their own archers who now sat upon the walls looking for any signs of the North Company attack. Occasionally one might have also found the scattered sword, axes, or shield. Dropped by a North Company soldier lucky enough to make it over the wall or the unlucky Imperial to be slain defending and the lazy Imperial who didn't collect it to reinforce their own side.
The East Gate was saved from most of these things for the time being. Where the South Gate had all the scars of a previous battle, the East like its North and West counterparts had been spared for the most part. There doors still rested firmly on their hinges and showed no signs of having been brutalized by the repetitive motions of ramming and burning on behalf the North Company. Its walls remained the same clean ta stone color, devoid of the broken arrows and crushed ladders that were easily visible to anyone on the ramparts of the wall. It was different on the East Wall and Gate to that extension. For the guards standing upon them, there was little to see. Mainly thanks to the fact that unlike the Recon Section, looting only meters away in their safe house, they possessed no night vision goggles or optics. Instead they were forced to rely on the small ten or so meter circle of like produced by the large bonfires that had been lit upon their section of the wall. Anything beyond that would be incredibly difficult for them to spot. Meaning if the North Company attacked, they would have the element of surprise on their side. Even if meant they'd risk organization to attack the wall in the night.
Thus it was no surprise that they took the route of a night attack to throw off the Imperial defenders, especially at the East Gate. The South Gate, while weakened in the first battle would likely have been easier to physically break through, it was more likely the defenders would place more soldiers there for that very reason. The North Gate, was also built on unfavorable terrain and much to far away to make for any decent attack route that night, and they would have surely been spotted had they attempted to attack from there. And thus it was left to a fifty fifty toss up between the East and West Gate. For some reason, possibly even a flip of a coin, they had selected the East Gate to begin their attack. It would seem that the gamble taken by Fischer had paid off for the first half at least. Had they attacked the Westgate, the Recon Section would be at least two kilometers away in a city full of hostile soldiers all moving to engage the enemy. Not the most favorable condition for moving covertly. There was also the fact that they would be unable to provide support for the capturing of the landing zones. Though with the fire power being brought in by the Air Cavalry, it didn't seem like that would be a problem regardless.
Though the attack itself was a quick Crescendo only lasting a few beats as it grew in intensity. It began softly with the appearance of a few blue orbs of light, easily visible from the onlookers watching from the wall. Most stopped to stare at the large orbs, likely not having seen anything similar. Even the Captain of the guard, a knight under royal order who had likely seen many battles himself, found himself staring at the orbs. Then behind them grew the faint glow of fifty or sixty smaller red orbs. It was at this point many of the senior warriors among the defending band realize what was going on. But it was already too late. Before anyone on the wall could even speak a word or cry out in warning to those waiting below, the blue orbs left their stationary positions, traveling rapidly towards the wall. Growing in size from that of what appeared to be no larger than a pea, to that of a softball, they struck all around the ramparts of the wall, exploding is massive shock waves that threw even some of the heavily armed defenders, and plenty of stone chunks from the wall. The Captain of the guard was among them, whom quickly took the chance to scribe out a note for the Princess, before returning to the wall. No sooner than did the blue orbs of magic strike, did the red glowing orbs reveal themselves to be arrows coating in oil and launched upon the defenders. All around men with shields and ladders could be seen rushing the sides of the walls, eager to climb and battle. Already orders were being sent to the other walls to join their brothers at the East Gate for a battle.
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The sounds of battle were not one's that were lost on the members of the Recon Section, including that of Fischer. After having finished with Orisa and the Native it was a simple matter to get Thompson and Karev caught up on what had happened between them leaving the Recon Section's Convy and arriving back in the safe house. In truth it wasn't much and after a quick round of questioning and new orders, Fischer found himself back in the dining room accompanied by the Old Man who seemed to be fidgeting with a small piece of paper. Not one for conversation, Fischer stopped himself from asking him what the paper was, and simply returned to his own paper. With the night growing old it seemed about a good as any time to recount the day's adventure, as uneventful as it had been, and return to the reading of his journal. Perhaps something from his own time in the middle east could spur memories and ideas of what could come from the rest of the night. Perhaps something about a night raid or a similar Recon Mission would appear and give him some faith on event that might be able to transpire. Even if they were going to be battling with a bunch of roman soldiers who were armed with little else than swords and shields. Not very effective against assault rifles, and quite different from the RPGs, and assault rifles carried by various insurgent groups Fischer had come across.
Yet such research would have to be cut short by the sudden explosion coming from just outside their safe house. More specifically coming from the Eastern Gate which state only about thirty or so meters away from many of their current positions. The sounds of six distinct explosions followed by the sounds of shouting Imperials and the thumping sound of arrows colliding with flesh, metal, and stone were easily heard through the thin walls, Special Region winters likely weren't that cold in Italica, and open windows. All eyes in the first floor were on Fischer. Most wore a face renewed resolve, faced with the prospect of another ensuing battle. Some were mixed with anxiety toward another blood shed, some excitement and relief with the idea that they might actually be able to do something, despite the last six or so hours of simply sitting around on their asses doing nothing. Others, like that of Orisa and even the newly acquired Althea, looked on with mixes of worry and confusions. Meanwhile Fischer's simply remained the same stoic expression as he grabbed his rifle and made his way up the old staircase that lead to the attic. Upon reaching the peak of the stairs he was again met with the same looks and eyes pinned on him. No doubt all were waiting for orders. Those who had stayed near the windows likely had a great view of the open shots of the battles. The volley of both arrows and magic launched by both sides. They quickly reporting the occurrence of blue orbs, no doubt magic to Fischer. No one asked, however, what to do. All knew it too well
It was at that point that Fischer turned from the window, and the sight of Imperial Soldiers both fighting off the swarming North Company soldiers and arrival of their own friendly reinforcements, to make his way towards the radio that was still in position next to the chair he had once occupied. Choosing to crouch rather to even bother sitting, he reached for the mic, clicking on the radio and contact Alnus. As he spoke his voice came across in a calm manner, despite the situation unfolding outside at current. <<Rook, this is Crossroads 1-1. We have a situation at Italica...>>
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[align=center]Alnus Hill | 03:50 Hours
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The airfield at Alnus Hill was constructed in the second month of the United Nations occupying the hill, for the main reason that until then there really wasn't much of a base desides a load of fox holes, trenches, and tents. But as soon as the initial building a fort had finished up and there were men free for other jobs, the airfield found itself as a top priority. It was only natural considering the importance of air power and support to modern warfare. Even if they fighting an enemy who was about six hundred years behind them. Though to be fair there had been plenty of wars where one side had almost complete air superiority over the other. And they were generally quick wars, like that of the six days war fought in the middle east over fifty years ago, when the Israelis nearly wiped out the air force of all their enemies and then clean swept them on the ground for the most part at least. So one could only imagine what it would look like when they were presented with the added bonus that the only way an Imperial could attempt to shoot down an United Nations aircraft with a bow, odds looked good for the pilots. Both of helicopters and the jets that were yet to arrive on base and be cleared for flying.
Though as of the moment the only aircraft that could be found on the runways were those of the helicopters and transport trucks parked off to the side for the timing being. In total fourteen aircraft were set out on the runways, their crews off in the hangars sleeping, eating, playing cards, or finding some other way to keep themselves busy while they waited for the green light to begin their assigned operations. Which of course were to deliver support to the Recon Section in Italics should the need arise. Though not all the aircraft were the same. Of the fourteen sitting in the airfield, only six of them were attack helicopters. Four Apaches, filled geared up with armaments of TOW missiles, 30mm chain gun, and plenty of rockets, sar next their Russian counterparts in the form of two Mi-28 attack helicopters fitted out with a similar armament. A rare sight to see the helicopters next to one another; the design similarities even easier to make out even with the white wash light that light up the airfield. Further down sat the remaining eight aircraft. All NH90s wearing different flags, those of the United States, Sweden, Germany, and others sat on the airfield, their ramps open and most ready to take on troops. Each could only about twenty soldiers, for a combined total of about one hundred and sixty additional troops, placing the support reinforcements at about a company of soldiers. But these troop transports were simple docile birds. They too carried an armament in the form of a gatling gun mounted to either side of each helicopter. Between the Apaches, Mi-28s, and themselves, there was more than enough firepower to support any peacekeeping operations at Italica.
But for the time being all the helicopters sat empty. Their crews were busy chatting among themselves, eating, sleeping or doing whatever they could to keep the time occupied. The infantry compliments to the transport helicopters were no different. Most were organized in platoons by their helicopter assignment, waiting on the cold concrete floor for the order to mobilize and head off towards Italica. They had assembled on the runways at just around twenty three hundred hours, not long after the Recon Section made their way into the city itself, and only a small while after they arrived into their designated safe house. Thus it had been well over five hours of doing nothing while they waited for the call that many thought would never arrive. That was until a voice suddenly cracked across the loudspeaker. It was a loud and deep voice, one that inspired command from simply hearing the words that came from his mouth. It was the commander of the Ninth Special Region Security Team, "Attention all members of the ninth SRST." There was a thick Swedish accent behind all of his words, "We have received a call from Italica, indicating fighting has already broken out in the city. You are to gear up and depart of Italica immediately." There was a rush of green as both pilots and infantrymen scrambled, some half asleep in the case of the infantry compliment, to their respective helicopters. Almost at once there was a large draft of wind as fourteen helicopters started up near simultaneously. Within minutes they were born and their way to Italica.
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Outside of Italica | 04:55 Hours
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Despite the speed of the helicopters, which easily clocked in at around over two hundred and fifty kilometers an hour, it would still take quite a bit of time to even reach the city of Italica. Not only that, they had to account for the slower transports, dropping the total time for transport at around an hour so until they would reach the intended drop zone. But even so the time seemed to slip by like it was moving at a thousand kilometers and hour. They had left the runways back at Alnus Hill at about three hundred fifty hours, in the dark. Rising like wraiths above the night the only thing that could be made out was the whooshing out of their metal blades clipping through the night. No searchlight or flashing light could be seen once they left the airspace above Alnus hill and the threat of collision died done. As they passed along the road leading from Alnus Hill to Italica, the night sky slowly began to grow softeners. The darkness of the early morning soon faded away as the sun, while still hidden below the horizon began to send of rays of light turning the sky from black to and almost greyish color; becoming in the morning dawn. Yet the sky wasn't the only thing to change as the flock of metal birds sped off towards Italica. With each kilometer as they neared closer the mighty forests and kept plains that surrounded Alnus Hill as far as the eye could see gave away to flat lands devoid of any growing trees, and as they continued on the ground slowly gave way to open field, cut into different shapes. Evidence of farming, and at that, evidence of Italica.
Yet the large open fields of crops, likely wheat and other grain based crops if knowledge of ancient digicult served them any good, wasn't the only sign of Italica. There were others though they were much worse in nature than simple farms. In the distance, dead ahead from where the flock of metal birds were flying, it was near impossible to miss the large black plumes of smoke that could be seen spiralling out of Italica hundreds of meters up into the sky. No doubt the effect of what was likely a breach in the defenses, exploited by the North Company, and used force more of their own soldiers into the city itself. It was confirmed moments later as the sound of a one Captain Fischer's voice came across the radio of the lead command helicopter, signalling fighting had already begun inside of the city's walls, followed by the noise of clashing metal and what sounded like rifle fire. It seemed the Recon Section had already involved himself in the fighting, making the arrival of the Air Cavalry all the more critical. Looking down at his watch the command, a Colonel Kile G. Ore, with a silent, came across the radio of the command helicopter, as it was too loud to yell. <<We'll be approaching the mission zone in five mikes. Swing into the East to meet them head on with the sun at our backs." There was a pause as he switched channels to only a select few helicopters, those being the transports who had been equipped with several speakers adoring each side prior to their arrival in the Special Region, <<This is Maverick to all choppers>> A thick Swedish accent still came across the radio, <<Start the music>>
It was then that all the soldiers aboard the transport knew what was coming. They'd be arriving at the mission zone before they would even know it, and when that came it was time to rain down hell on the unsuspecting North Company, and maybe a few Imperials in the process. But for the time being it was there last moments to check their gear and prepare himself for the combat that was to come. Having come over with their helicopters most had missed out on the first battles of Alnus, making this their first real taste of combat. Some checked their mags and looked over their rifles one last time. Some soldiers, out of a strange superstitions and traditions began to remove their helmets and sit on them almost like a seat. It was mainly the American soldiers present who had switched over the the First Air Cavalry. It was a choose that got them a lot of strange looks from their comrades and at one point a German soldier yelled over the sound of the helicopter's blades "Why do you guys all sit on your helmets?" The American soldier he directed his question at didn't even bother to turn and look at him. Instead he simply screamed over the blades as well, "So we don't get our balls blown off!" Soon both men would be drowned out as the loud sound of
Music began blasting from the speakers on the Helicopters in unison.