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Battle of Bizon Delta
Posted By: CSP499<Csp499@Yahoo.com>
Date: 27 October 2005, 2:01 am
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Note to the readers: Since nobody liked my "Divided Stars" series, I am finishing it with this. It is completely out of the way of the series, but resides in the same war going on, from someone else's point of view. You may find this story a bit graphically disturbing, though. That's to emphasize how bloody the conflict is.
Bizon Delta, Cadaria, 3580 AD.
The air was cold- the kind of cold that, as chilly as you may be, caused you to sweat: out of nervousness. The thin, whitish mist which floated lazily just a few inches off the ground contrasted greatly with the thick, soupy gray fog that veiled the terrain like a cloak over a dark figure. The Red Union was the figure this cloak covered. My face, Body-Armor and weapon were crusted with mud from the trench floor, and my allies were, too. The thing that made me nervous was that the area in front of me was foggy- but the area behind me was somewhat clear. I could see the bunkers, in which Major Arthur Bromley was in. He was our commander, and if we protected him, he would reward us.
We had no lack of allies: there were about 50 troops in this trench alone (we were packed in pretty tight, but the entrenchment was wide and long enough to hold us in.) We weren't alone, either. There were about 200 of us at this post. However, I've seen the Union fight. They weren't all too bright in terms of tactics; they usually just charged us, but damn- the damage they did was immense. If it weren't for their numbers and physical strength they wouldn't stand much of a chance, but being the brutes they are, our only advantage over them was our ability to ambush. Since we had no element of surprise, we were doomed.
Then, out of nowhere, someone shouted, "CARPET BOMBER INBOUND! HEADS DOWN!!" As I looked, I heard a deep, droning hum as the fog about 50 feet above us and a few yards in front began to part. Suddenly, a huge bomber plowed its way through the fog. "COVER!!!!! FIND COVER!!!!!" I yelled. The bomber passed overhead, and dirt, rocks and mud began flying everywhere as it delivered its payload. A bomb landed to my left side, knocking me over, head over heels. My ears were ringing, but I could still hear my comrades shouting in pain or command, and a series of shrill whines followed by a loud "BANG!" They stopped ringing, and I could hear those whines and bangs were artillery. My vision was blurred, and my visor covered in mud. I wiped it clean- but to see something I didn't want to. People were dragging their fellow soldiers (more like what was left of their upper torsos) out from craters left by the raining death and out of the trench as the mortars continued their harassment, and the medics were doing all in their power to stitch up the scorched and screaming casualties. It gave me this queasy feeling, a sharp pain ripped through my lower back as though I were being punctured by a hundred-thousand needles.
"SARGE! COME OVER HERE!" Someone yelled to me. Keeping as low as I possibly could, I made my way through the horrors that appeared before my eyes. "You will NOT die on me, you hear that marine?" A raspy voice hollered. "You have a job to do, and some medals to earn! Do you want to remain a grunt your whole life? I wouldn't think so; now get your sorry ass back in there!" I turned my head to see another sergeant shouting his lungs out at a one armed and legless marine being tended by a medic "You use that one arm you've got left and get ready to fend off an enemy, so you can earn all the glory in the world! THEN you can go home." Suddenly, a loud "BLAM" crackled through the fog, and as I turned my head around to look back at the horrid scene: the sergeant laid dead- his blood splattered all over the decapitated marine. I felt my heart move up to my throat as gunshots rang out and someone called "SCOUT DOWN!" I made my way to whoever it was calling to me. As I made my way past a corporal on the radio, I could see who it was.
He looked like a somewhat new private. He was hunched in a corner, shaking like crazy, with a puddle of vomit in front of him. "What's eating you, private?" I said. Shakily, he managed to get a few words out: "C-C-Can't… …t-take-take it any… long-err…" "What? What can't you take? It's only been five minutes since the reds made their bombing run!" He looked at me, trembling. With his visor, I couldn't see if he was crying, but it looked like he was. "What's your name, private?" I asked. "J-Jones s…s-sir." "Well private Jones, this is going to be a long fight. You look like a person who would succeed- stay sharp and you'll get out of here in one piece." "I-I'll… …t-t-try…s-sir" He whispered. I made my way out of his corner to find that my men were readying for combat. As I emerged from the lowered ditch into the entrenchment, I could hear him coughing- or vomiting. Poor little bastard… I thought to myself …he doesn't deserve this.
I made my way down the short distance to my men's post as the mortars kept falling. I hustled up to a gap and took aim- then the volley stopped. "What's happening?" A marine whispered. I snarled at him. "SHHHH! We'll find out." A private with behind a machine gun looked around nervously. "I've got a bad feeling about this…" he said aloud. "HA! You've ALWAYS have a bad feeling about everything!" Another one said. My heart was beating wildly. I knew it- not only I could feel it thumping, but the vital sign meter on my visor was spiking like mad. Suddenly, I heard something rustle and growl in the fog. "You hear that?" someone said in silently. I turned to face him. But as I turned, a gunshot rang out through the haze- and his brain came out the back of his head. As soon as I was aware of what was going on, spent shells began raining down on the bottom of the entrenchment as shadowy figures with blazing weapons emerged from the haze. I fired blindly into the onslaught of the massive, armored bipeds. "SQUAD, SUPPRESSION FIRE, UNION ASSAULT MARINES AT TWELVE O'CLOCK!" I shouted. The armored marines weren't stopping- the horde of the bulky humanoids kept charging toward us- and they were a bit too close for comfort.
They got closer- just a few meters away. One without a helmet, apparently a sergeant, started rushing me directly, with his bayonet glistening in the light from his weapon's barrel. I leveled my rifle at his chest until he got close- so close that I could see his pentagram neck tattoo and every detail on the scar running down his face. Just before he plunged the long blade at me, a 30mm round was driven through his barely-protected neck. Dark red blood misted behind him, and his 8 foot tall armored hulk slammed tumultuously into the ground. I looked behind me to se Jones standing there, rifle barrel smoking. "Thanks Jones," I said "I owe you for that." I heard cries of agony from my allies as they took melees from the opponent, and I could hear the attackers roar in pain as bullets tore through their carbon-titanium armor. Suddenly, a Lieutenant hollered "FALL BACK TO THE BUNKERS AND REGROUP!!!" I spun to my six and double timed up the hill to the bunkers behind us.
I waited for the enemy to climb out of the trench. The tables were temporarily turned- they were the sitting ducks. Mounted guns blazed madly as they harassed the oncoming mass. I grinned as I watched the ruthless Assault Marines topple over one by one as they charged and shot. Ha, I thought. I though these guys were good- My thought was interrupted abruptly as the gunner next to me took a bullet to the chest. That's when one of the attackers shouted something, sounding like "MAKARAS FIL DALI! SIMIR! SIMIR!" That probably meant "Retreat", as they immediately doubled back into the fog.
Just before I could celebrate in my head, I found their reasoning for running- I heard that same, deep buzzing as I heard before. "CARPET BOMBER ON APPROACH, EVACUATE THE BUNKERS!" I sprinted out of the doorway as the monstrous aircraft soared overhead. As I looked back, the bunker suddenly burst into flaming debris. I looked around to see more troops running from the wreckage. A private- turning out to be Jones- was looking down on a body. He was yelling at it and crying, occasionally hitting it. I moved up closer to him. The body he was shouting at was a female soldier, helmet off and a hole through her head. "Tiff, you can't die on me, hang in there! You CAN'T be dead, do you hear me? You're going to make it out of here even if it means my own life is ended!" I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "JONES! GIVE IT UP, SHE'S DEAD!" He went back down to Tiff's carcass. "NO! SHE CAN'T BE DEAD! I made her a promise that I would make sure she made it out of here, I swore my life! "He got back up and looked at me. "If I leave her here, I would be breaking a promise to her- I can't do that!" He took Tiff's body by the shoulders. "KEEP IT UP; YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE IT OUT OF HERE!" I gripped Jones' shoulder and he looked at me furiously. "JONES! SHE'S DEAD, GOD DAMN IT! GIVE UP!" "NO!!!!" He screamed at me with a blind rage. All of a sudden, an artillery shell dropped on the last remaining bunker, sending a piece of rebar flying through his chest. He shouted in pain, and collapsed to the ground- still breathing. I looked at him in horror as he gritted his bloodied teeth in pain. Then, oddly, he smiled "Sarge?" he managed to say. "Kill one of those bastards for me… guhhh!" His head hit the ground. I guess he's happier now. I said to myself. I gave him one last salute, and double-timed to the second trench line.
More of them came- with bigger numbers. But we were stronger now- I was stronger. I fixed my aim on the closest one as he charged. "This is for you, Jones." I growled. I pulled the trigger.
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