Chapter 6 - And the 111th comes rolling along.

"When you have secured an area, don't forget to tell the enemy." - Murphy's laws of war, Sub category Techniques.

Date, August, 2035.

ID: United States Marine Corps, Second Expeditionary force - Launched from CVN-83 USS Freedom.

POV: Lieutenant Horton.

Location: City square, Kavala, Republic of Altis and Stratis.

SITREP: U.S Marines, affiliated with NATO, have successfully entered into Kavala and are busy securing bulkheads for the army's 111th Infantry Division and the RAAF's 1st Battalion as they enter the city.

The Huron's were hovering over the square, their Pawnee escorts along with RAAF Hellcat's were currently clearing the adjacent streets with their mounted guns. The psyops Pawnee was still doing rounds over the nearby streets blasting away its rock and roll music.

"Mad-House 1 here, LZ marked with blue smoke, wait one." The Huron that was housing Mad-House 1 began to land in the approximate area. The smoke was now dissipated due to the winds being produced from the landing helicopter,

Meanwhile in the next street over, several Hellcat's along with Pawnees began to open fire once more, followed by multiple small arms fire in conjunction with the heavier weapons being fired from the helicopters.

The RAAF began broadcasting over the local comms network, heavy gun-fire is heard in the background as the operator of the radio began speaking.

"This is RAAF Squad five here! Enemy combatants are trying to do another counter assault, we are holding for now with help of our air support but we are going to need reinforcements quickly!" The radio squawked off, just then one of the Pawnees overhead just barely avoided a volley of Fireballs.

"Holy shit! This is Mad-House 3, enemy uh.." Background chatter between the pilot and copilot is briefly heard as the pilot as for classification on the people hurling balls of fire at them are.

"...enemy mages are in concealed positions, keep your eyes peeled for fireballs! Don't remain hovering people, use strafing to avoid becoming a sitting duck!" The Pawnee pilot yelled over local comms, he then circled about mid air, unleashing his dual miniguns onto the street below. Red tracers blanketing the street beyond the rooftops.

"It's like a shooting gallery down there, hey John ease off on the Miniguns will you, they are turning orange…" One of the pilots commented to his copilot.

"Uh, copy easing off on the minis, spooling down…" One of the Pawnees had stopped firing, circling back over the rooftops to avoid being targeted.

The Hurons finally landed in the square, the helicopters landing wheels extracted out of the interior compartments allowing for it to remain on the ground.

The side of the Huron had the symbol of the USMC eagle and globe painted in light grey on the side of the helicopter, the door gunner was aiming his minigun around the square for purely precautionary measures.

The rear ramps opened up soon followed by Marines exiting the Huron, armed up with the standard NATO/American MXC rifles they also were wearing standard NATO uniforms in the Marine MARPAT camo.

"Move it you lot! I want to kick some ass and I don't want anyone lagging behind!" A NCO yelled as he exited the Heron, his MXC rifle having a 3GL attachment on the underbarrel, he waved his hand forwards, motioning for the Marines to dismount.

"Yes sir!" A chorus of responses from the grunts as they filed out of the Huron, rifles in hand as they exited. The marines upon exiting formed up around the ramp of the Huron, aiming at what houses were still standing.

One of the marines yelled out. "Got movement on the second floor!" Multiple weapons turned rapidly up to the house the marine had yelled about. A tense moment of silence fell, as silent as it could be with gunfire in the background, then movement was seen approaching the balcony.

A 'roman' archer appeared in the window, yelling a warcry as he stepped onto the balcony. He prepared to draw his bow back to fire his arrow, but the marines beat him to the punch by tearing him apart in a blizzard of 6.5x39mm.

The archer slumped over before falling over the balconies railing, landing unceremoniously with a wet splat onto the pavement below.

"Clear!" The marines began to fan out around the area, going into four man teams with a designated squad leader. One of the marines popped another round into the archer before following his squad leader.

Mad-House one, Lieutenant Horton, spoke over the Marine radio-net. "All Mad-House call signs, be advised, we are now going under call sign Mad-Dogs, Mad-House is now the call sign for the Pawnee escorts, how copy over."

"Mad-H..Dog 2 acknowledged over, Mad-Dog 1 what are our orders at this time?" The marines now covered most of the square, supported by the RAAF squads that had rappeled out of the Hellcats and bolstered by the defenders within the 'FOB'.

"All Mad-Dog call signs are to rally with the RAAF Squads holding position beyond the FOB at this time, break."

"Mad-Dog 2 copys all Mad-Dog 1, uh break.." The radio beeped as the operator spoke again. "Mad-Dog 1, are we to move along the MSR towards 'road block 1' at this time over?"

"Affirmative, Mad-Dog 2 is to move along MSR 1, Mad-Dogs 3 and 4 are to secure MSR 2 while Mad-Dog 1 is moving to secure MSR 3.."

"And what about the defenders in the camp?" Mad-Dog 3 asked over the comms. "Up to Papa-Bear incharge of the FOB, we have not much comms with the force other than some of the NATO forces stationed there, other than that RAAF comms are limited to us, have to go through Papa-Bear for that one." Lieutenant Horton replied, gripping his MXC rifle he finally exited the Huron, bending his knees once he got on the ground.

Just then the radio crackled off as Papa-Bear once more spoke into the local comms, both NATO and RAAF. "The riot police are going to be holding back for this one, once the Marines secure the roadblocks I want riflemen to move up and make sure the Mora crew is alright." The radio beeped for a moment before he continued.

"Riot officers, get your vans parked up near the choke points, if anyone not in BDUs or a uniform walks up with a sword you cleared to spray them down and detain them, the level of force needed for detaining will be left up to your discretion."

Some greek was heard briefly over the radios, followed soon by the riot vans exiting the 'FOB', following on their sides were riot officers in a testudo formation, the tear gas officers followed to their rear, their launchers aimed upwards as they advanced.

Lieutenant Horton aimed his MXC around, walking up to his squad he cleared the Huron. He spoke into his headset, giving a quick beep before speaking. "Mad-House 1, Mad-Dog 1 and Mad-Dog 2 is cleared of the Huron, you are cleared for dust off."

The Hurons ramp began to shut as the pilot began to apply more power to the rotors. "Copy that Mad-Dog 1, we are dusting off here to RTB with the Freedom, good luck out there, Mad-House 1 and two departing the AO at this time.." And with that the two Hurons began to lift off out of the square, two of the Pawnee gunships moved in to act as escorts until they cleared the city.

Upon their departure the Kavalan police forces began firing off tear gas into the streets ahead, their shield wall became a hive of activity as shouting was heard across the square as several officers then engaged in combat with remaining 'roman' forces.

Horton once more spoke into his radio to the localized forces under his direct command. "You have your orders people, get moving and secure your objectives, once the local forces relieve you head towards my position and we push towards the center of the city." By now he was at the head of the assembled squad, motioning with his hand to begin moving down the street towards the gunfire.

"Got it lieutenant…" The NCO heading Mad-Dog 2 Radioed in.

"Roger that…" The NCO heading Mad-Dog 3 replied.

"Copy that, moving." The NCO for Mad-Dog 4 responded.

Horton having his MXC raised turned the corner of the street, his eyes were greeted by the sight of smoke and tear gas blanketing parts of the street along with two RAAF fireteams along with several Kavalen police officers laying waste to advancing 'roman' forces, although their advance was halted dead due to the fireteams air support currently dropping rounds into their ranks.

"Move it people, reinforce their positions and repel the counter attack!" Horton waved several of his riflemen by as they jogged up towards the RAAF position.

Several of the team advanced across the street to the houses located on the other side of the street, using them to cover the rear of the force.

Overhead one of the Pawnee escorts did a gun run on the street ahead, the loud "BRRRRRT." of the miniguns deafened the soldiers for a moment.

Torrents of red tracers slammed into the 'romans' testudo formation, absolutely annihilating their front allowing the RAAF forces ahead to mop up those still brave enough to try and advance on their position.

The Marines moved in behind the RAAF forces, beginning to open fire along side the Altians. Red and green tracers filled the street as they cleared up the remaining forces.

Suddenly someone on the rooftops began yelling. "I̶n̷ ̴d̵i̷v̷i̶n̸e̷ ̶p̸r̴o̶v̶i̵n̷c̷e̸!̵ ̶T̵h̸e̴ ̷h̴a̵t̶e̸ ̶o̸f̶ ̷H̴a̷r̸d̷y̶ ̵i̵s̷ ̶c̶a̶s̵t̷ ̷u̸p̷o̵n̸ ̶y̵o̶u̵!" A fireball hit the front of the RAAF squad launching several men skywards.

"Contact! On the roof, fucker in robes!" A Marine yelled out, soon followed by him firing at where he had been pointing. Up on a balcony a man in robes was currently casting a force field as he tried to back away into cover.

Four marines stacked up on the building that the 'mage' was currently inside of, breaking a window they tossed in a flash grenade into the first room. "Niner banger out!" the marine that had tossed it in averted his gaze as the flash grenade went off.

"Go go go!" The point man kicked the door in, his MX rifle raised as he rushed inside. The other marines followed him inside, then gunfire erupted inside as they encountered hostiles.

Soon enough red tracer fire began to fly out of the up stairs balcony door as the mage was seen back pedaling towards the street, his force field broke under the rifle fire, he tripped over the balcony ledge.

Many of the men that had been shooting at him earlier from ground level opened fired on the man falling, shredding his torso as he fell.

"Ḁ̸̛̭͆͒g̴͚̭͔̊̅̈́g̵͓̒̿̈́ģ̵̛͈̻͗ḩ̵̤̔̈́͠h̵̨̤̀h̷͍̀̈́̐!" The man screamed as he was shot, landing on his back he slammed into the pavement, his armor riddled with rounds he began gasping for air, his hands although limp on the ground, were seen glowing a faint green, soon his body was glowing the same color as his hands. Several of the soldiers nearby thought he was about to cast some sort of suicide spell.

"Watch it! Fucker is about to pull a Harry Potter jihad!" One of the marines yelled as he hightailed it to cover. Although a large portion of the men had run for cover, Horton approached the fallen 'mage'.

Upon closer inspection, the man was not blowing up, rather it appeared he was no longer bleeding out as no more blood was seen leaking out of the holes created by the bullets. Horton took note of the green light enveloping the 'mage' before stocking his head in with his MX rifle.

The 'mage' went limp upon taking the rifle stock to his head, his 'magic' seemed to dissipate as soon as he went unconscious. Several of the RAAF soliders coming out of cover aimed down at the mage, their MK20s prepped to open fire.

Horton raised his hand in a halt motion, placing his boot on the man's torso. "We are going to detain him, I have a feeling that our respective governments are going to be interested in his abilities." He spoke to the RAAF riflemen, who albeit reluctantly, lowered their MK20's.

He rolled the man onto his chest, two of the RAAF personnel grabbed the man's arms, folding them behind his backside, although they did get some revenge as they made the position of his arms uncomfortable to be in for long periods of time.

A pair of policemen were flagged down, they then snapped handcuffs onto the 'mage' wrist, hefting the man up one of the officers carried the man in a fireman carry, making their way back towards the 'FOB', prisoner in tow.

Returning to the combat once more, the street was now being cleared of what little enemy presence was left as the combined Marine and RAAF forces swept the enemy back down the street.

Just as they were preparing to clear into the next street, a gaggle of 'romans' with a ogre as support came down an adjacent street crossing the main road.

"SHIT! ENEMY HARD HITTER IN THE OPEN!" The advancing marines and RAAF forces began to fall back, over head the Pawnee escorts weren't firing.

"Mad-House, why aren't you engaging!" Horton took cover behind a RAAF strider as arrows began to fall upon their position. "Mad-Dog 1, we are out of ammo, spent it all on clearing operations, no DARs, no bullets."

Overhead the Pawnees began to turn off, heading off towards Altis AFB (Altis International.). "We can contact you with one of the sorties of F/A 181s overhead to do CAS on the ogre though."

Before replying, Horton leaned out of cover and popped off several rounds at the advancing force, leaning back in he replied. "Negative, too much unknown in the area, houses might still be full of civilians. I call CAS now we risk killing the locals." Even if airstrikes had already been called in during the battle thus far, he didn't feel like risking the chance of bombing civilians even if it would demolish the ogre ahead.

The pilot comms were still on, in the background the pilot speaking to his copilot was heard for a moment before he spoke to Horton. "Well that sounds like your problem, we are going to head to AFB Altis to rearm, if you have AT specialist's down there I recommend you start using them."

As the Pawnees turned off more arrows pelted off their underside. The most damage they did was etch some of the paint off.

The RAAF Hellcats weren't even on their net, so any chance of contacting them was zilch, he could in theory try asking one of the RAAF NCOs near him to radio them in for a danger close strafing run on the enemies position.

Even so it appeared they were occupied with other matters anyways as a pair of Hellcats narrowly avoided another volley of fireballs, returning with tracer fire.

One of the nearby marines raised his MX 3GL, "40 Mil going live!" He shouted to nearby forces. He pulled the trigger of the 3GL, the grenade exited with a 'Fwoosh'.

The 40mm traveled rapidly outwards towards the 'roman' ranks, falling just short of hitting their shields. A spray of fragmentations and debris pelted the 'roman' shields, resulting in little damage.

"Hey cover me! I am going to bound across!" Horton yelled over to a grouping of marines, the same ones that had flushed out the 'mage' from the house.

"Got it lieu, cover his ass guys!" The NCO of the squad ordered his men to provide suppressing fire. "Hey, get that MX SW set up!" One of the marines armed with a MX SW went prone, setting up the bi-pod on the light squad machine gun.

He racked the side of the MX, sighting in his targets on his iron sights. "Dropping some lead!" He yelled, soon a stream of red tracers left the end of his LMG.

He was soon thereafter followed by the rest of his squad, firing off their carbines down range at the 'roman' forces. The romans formation was now being suppressed, their front wall of shields went down and soon thereafter their arrows died down as well.

Horton crossed the street, hip firing a few shots down range as he did so, he reached the other side of the street. Taking cover in the doorway of a house he looked down the road towards the very front of their lines.

A pair of Marines were setting up a PMCL behind a burnt out sedan as the ogre approached their lines, the ogre was under heavy small arms fire, its torso was getting shredded by a heavy wall of bullets but they did little to slow its advance, it began to charge them, hatred in its eyes.

"Check check! PMCL prepped! Clear back bla.." The marine checking off looked up to see the ogre was now twenty meters away. "Holy shit! HOLY SHIT! FUCKING LEG IT!" The spotter panicked and began to run back towards friendly forces as the orge charged at them.

"OH MY GOD! OH MY FUCKING GOD!" The AT specialist dropped his PMCL, unslinging his MXC carbine he began to hip fire on full auto at the advancing ogre.

The ogre crushed what was left of the sedan with its foot, before rearing its hand back and pimp slapped the man aside, sending him into the wall of the house next to him, his body made a wet slap as he slammed into the wall, careening into the first room of the house.

"Jackson is down! Jackson is fucking down!" The marines and RAAF forces were now panicking as they fired everything they had at the ogre.

Just as the ogre was about to break their position a heavy cannon went off, the entirety of the ogres backside and a large portion of its chest was now gone as a mist of red fell upon the area.

Behind the collapsing orge down the road, a M2A1 Slammer UP NATO tank was seen down the road, its 120mm cannon was smoking while its RCWS HMG was firing round after round at what was left of the 'roman' position.

Hortons radio went off as he received a message from an unknown source. "This is Corporal Louis Barklem, 1st Mechanized Battalion moving in support to the 111th Infantry division advance, looked like you jarheads needed some help." Horton looked down the road to the Slammer, giving a thumbs up.

"Appreciate you army boys helping my men out there, we really needed the support you checklist sociopaths.." Horton spoke into his radio humorously, briefly looking to his men to make sure everyone was alright.

Two corpsmen and several riflemen were helping Private First Class Jackson, the AT specialist that had eaten shit when he got slapped into the wall.

"Tsk, don't mistake my act of goodwill for kindness jarhead, just need all the able bodied men we can muster right now" Barklems tone indicated he was joking. ", so with that being said, I wouldn't mind if you folks got a move on." The Slammers turret turned down the street the 'romans' had been now retreating from, another 120mm shell slammed into the road ahead.

"Dealing with a casualty here, critical condition from the looks of it. Once we MEDEVAC him we will get a move on." Behind the slammer several NATO AMV-7 Marshall's filled the street, supported by several IFV-6c Panthers as troops began to dismount the vehicles.

Heavy gunfire now filled the air as the 'roman' advance had been grounded to a crippling halt as both air support and recently arriving NATO/RAAF reinforcements plugged the gaps and sent destruction their way.

"Come on let's go, lets go!" A group of 111th infantry shoved past down the street, more automatic fire erupted as more and more combatants entered the fight, moving along side the IFV-6c Panthers, their RCWS HMG / GMG firing off clearing the road.

The Panthers RCWS GMG fired off salvo after salvo of 40mm grenades into the retreating ranks of the 'romans', soon after mopped up by its RCWS HMG. Anything or anyone that was left alive after words was detained by the infantry and hauled off down the street.

Several AMV-7's began rolling down the street, firing off their 40mm cannon intermittently into distant targets. Troops were pouring out of the backside of a slow moving AMV-7 as it made its way down the street, a soldier was ushering his fellow comrades out of the vehicle while firing off his MX rifle down the street.

As the street ahead was being secured, two NATO Prowlers rounded the street that the marines were on, one marked on the doors with a white backdrop and a red diamond in the middle.

The back seat area had been converted to hold a stretcher as two combat medics sat in the back area of the Prowler.

The second Prowler was just a normal variant with a HMG on the frame. The two Prowlers halted next to the marine medics trying to stabilize the AT specialist.

Overhead a new pair of AH-99 Blackfoots flying in the middle of a wedge supported by three Pawnee gunships on either side. To the rear was a group of six NATO UH-80 Ghost hawks flying in a wedge formation similar to the Pawnees.

Their door gunners were constantly pouring down rounds as they flew over, red tracer rounds flying out into the deeper sections of Kavala. Leading the group was the marine psyops Pawnee from earlier blasting new music.

((NATO Playlist of awesomeness: "Klendathu Drop - Starship Troopers Soundtrack." - Composer Basil Poledouris: Starship Troopers Soundtrack.))

The two combat medics hopped out of the Prowler, hauling the stretcher up they jogged over to the marine combat medics. They laid the stretcher down, and one of the medics began checking the marine over.

"He is in critical condition, but if we MEDEVAC him now we might be able to salvage the situation.." He began to haul the wounded AT specialist up onto the stretcher, with the assistance of the marine medics.

The medics finally loaded the man onto the medical Prowler, strapping him down onto the vehicle the medics climbed back into their seats. The lead medic slapped the frame of the Prowler. "Loaded up man, get us back to base. We will stabilize him on the way."

The driver nodded, he honked to get the road clear ahead of him. The marines and RAAF forces began to clear a path in the road for the Prowler to drive on through.

Once the road had been cleared the Prowlers took off down the adjacent street, turning off down the road they speeded out of sight.

"All Mad-Dog callsigns, CASEVAC successful, continue with objectives along side the 111th. Objective now is to push the enemy out of the city at this time…" Horton looked down the street that the Prowlers had sped off down, the marines began to reorganize their formations as they prepped to push forward with the 111ths assault.

Currently more and more 111th assets are entering the city. Armored and infantry units were making short work of any of the 'roman' forces still putting up a fight. Any 'romans' trying to run back to their GATE were being cut off by a series of NATO and RAAF checkpoints being hastily set up throughout the city. Newly arriving IFVs, APCs, and tanks and air support were steming the tide of battle turning it from a straining war of defence to a one sided slaughter.

To the Empire this was not a war, not even a battle, nor could one call this a skirmish. This was hell on earth. Some could say it was the gods wrath personified in the form of an endless wall of flames and steel.

To the RAAF and NATO, this is war. Combined arms doctrine at its finest as Infantry, armored, and air support worked intertwined with each other in clearing street after street of enemy forces and taking more and more ground back from the Empires sledgehammer surprise assault.

Date, IC 687, Month of heat.

Location: B̶a̶r̶b̶a̶r̶i̶c̶ ̶l̶a̶n̶d̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶y̶o̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶G̶A̶T̶E̶. The killing fields of the gods!

U̶n̶k̶n̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶c̶i̶t̶y. A maze of death and despair!

Status: P̶i̶l̶l̶a̶g̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶n̶a̶m̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶E̶m̶p̶e̶r̶o̶r̶ ̶M̶o̶l̶t̶.̶ There is no hope, we retreat back to the Empire with haste!

POV: General Maximus Pious - Head of what's left the Empires Invasion force.

Pious had no idea how everything could go so wrong, one moment he had arrived to claim new lands for the empire, a city next to a great expanse of ocean no less! The local forces they had thus encountered proved little more than a bothersome itch, especially the ones held up in that castle overlooking the city.

He was told by one of the runners for the second corps that a camp of barbarians proving especially difficult was soon to be overrun and slaughtered, he even sent in the dragon riders in to help in that matter so he could use all of his forces to subjugate the defenders still in that castle.

He was busy surveying the city from one of the balconies situated in one of these barbarians houses, using one of the finest spy glasses on the market straight from Italica's markets. He saw far and wide the city's landscape. Several tall towering structures painted in yellow hung over the skyline with wires suspended from them. Tallish white structures with many windows stood above the small cities skyline, nothing major but looking upon them gave him a otherworldly chill.

The majority of the cities houses at least felt familiar to him, something you would expect to see in one of the major Villas back home for servants. But the strange yellow towering structures and the architecture for the white buildings gave him a feeling of dread, unfamiliarity.

What confused him even more was that all along the edges of the city, not one defensive wall was in sight, even the smallest of cities in the Empire had some semblance of a wall to keep attackers from breaching into the cities.

He chalked it up to these Barbines believing that because they lived on an island they had no real worries for actual defensive structures. But now he was becoming increasingly unsure, and on top of his mounting paranoia he was starting to feel like he was being watched from a external source, before the 'sky golems' as his men had called them came in and decimated the dragon riders, they were reporting of strange spects in the skies, feeling like they were being watched by them.

At first he scoffed at the idea but now he was feeling more and more and worried that perhaps they were partly responsible for the situation he was in now. Regardless of these earlier reports he pressed the attack, having Colt Formal lead the attack against the castle, leaving him in command of both the third and fourth corps of pikemen and demi-human 'vassals' to lay siege to the castle. He was hesitant at first, voicing that perhaps it might have been best to try and talk to the locals instead of attacking them in such a matter.

Pious had at that time assumed that he was speaking out of cowardice more so than anything else, that he doubted the Empires strength to conquer some lowly barbarians. But now he understood the late Formal, . Of course now it was too late to dwell on such things.

With the summoning of the 'flying golems' they unleashed a horrendece flame magic upon the forces of both third and fourth corps. Regretfully Colt Formal had been leading the attack at that time when the two golems came in. What little reports he had now indicated that there was nothing left of the two forces.

What was even worse was that coming in over the sea now were several flying golems, the top of which seemed to be creating some strange form of wind magic that kept them afloat while creating a thunderous 'thumping(?)' sound as they flew over.

What was worse was dozens of unfamiliar floating objects were now making their way towards the beaches. Strange tubes on the top of the vehicle spewed out small explosives that decimated his men along the coast. What made it worse was once they made landfall the rear of the 'floating golems' opened up and out came drove after drove of what he assumed to be their 'shock troopers'. They rapidly gained ground and retook the harbor his legionaries had secured.

The barbarians strange grey boat stationed off in the harber must have also had powerful mages aboard as its weapons were able to obliterate the sixth corps in its entirety, several arcs of light flew out of the ship, landing directly upon the sixth's corps temporary encampment in the port.

What little the runners were able to get back to Pious babbled how nothing but smoke and ash was left of the sixth. He was at this point realizing that he and the entirety of the Empire may have made a grave mistake.

The Empire had never lost a war, at least none in recent memory. The only time they came close was the battle of Akutteku, almost two hundred and fifty years ago, when the entire Imperial army had been wiped out. But they were able to rebound from that failure.

But now? No amount of pride or prayer was going to save him and the Imperial army now. They had entered the battlefield of the 20th century of Earth, one dominated by coordinated forces and combined arms doctrine warfare. Concepts never before seen in Imperial records.

No Imperial had ever gone up against a LAV, much less a tank. Sure one could claim that the dwarven federation of the far north had such 'technology' to put it loosely, but the Empire had gone to battle against such creations and still succeeded then.

But this something entirely new, weaponry propelled not by magic. But by the wit and knowledge and money of the earth's various nations thirst for ever more powerful weapons of war to be used against one another.

Of course, such knowledge was lost to General Maximus Pious. He was currently organizing what little of his forces were left to retreat through the GATE. "Take the slaves back to the Empire at once! Any artwork or jewelry is to be left!" He looked over his assembled generals in charge of the other divisions , his temper was becoming more and more strained by the minute, and the gathered generals knew it as they felt an icy chill fall over them even in this emenouse heat that blanketed the city.

The general of the first corps coughed nervously. "B..but Genera Piousl. We have a substantial amount of objects of wealth we can take back to the Empire, we can call it a 'success' in that regards…" His words sounded hollow as if he was trying to convince himself what he was saying was true.

"We haven't the time to pilfer the goods we were able to secure earlier, we have lost over sixty percent of what the Emperor has given us. SIXTY PERCENT OF THE EMPIRES MILITARY MIGHT!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, his face was flushed with anger as the officers cowered back at his outburst.

Nearby more explosions shook the ground, the barbarians 'steel elephants were closing in now, shaking the ground with anger of a god! Pious had seen what they could do to the ogres of the ninth demi-human 'vassel' forces.

Where there had been a column of ogres charging a column of their 'steel elephants', only craters and red mist had remained as the 'steel elephants' swarmed over their outer defenses. In support of the lead 'elephants' were several smaller 'steel elephants' alongside their infantry, fanning out and slaughtering those still brave enough to fight back. It was at that moment Pious felt the pit in his stomach form, for he knew this was the end of their escapade beyond the GATE.

Just as Pious was about to begin another tirade, a runner of the first catapult artillery division ran inside the tent Pious and the other generals were now situated in.

The runners forehead drenched in sweat and his face contorted into a look of horror. "GENERALS!" He snapped to attention as he entered, he inhaled painfully, sucking in what air he could after running for the command tent.

Pious turned to the runner, looking him over and feeling a chill wash over himself as he had a feeling what news he was about to hear would not be good news. "Speak runner…" He watched the runner's complexion turn from pale, to paler as he began to recite what he was ordered to tell him.

"The enemy 'flying thumper golmens' came over the square we established our frontal camp in and decimated some of the catapults we had set up acting as siege weapons against the castle!" Pious paled upon hearing this, he knew it was only a matter of time before they targeted them, but the news was still shocking nonetheless.

"What do we have left…" Piouses' voice sounded like he was at the breaking point now, his tone sounded dry and to the assembled officers his eyes looked duller, a man with nothing left to lose.

The runner shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. "We have several Ballistas defending the perimeter of the cam.." another series of explosions racked the area. The runner winced. "Less, Balistas then we had a moment ago.."

Maximus inwardly groaned at the failures of the Imperial army, now that his arrogance of the barbarians on this end of the GATE had evaporated, he understood now that he along with the generals in charge of this invasion should have planned more carefully. Instead they let their pride blind them into this devastating situation.

"Along with what's left of our Catapults, we still have several mages providing cover for our retreating forces…" The runner concluded, just as another series of explosions rocked the area. Screaming could be heard outside the tent as a small cloud of smoke entered into the tent.

"My order still stands, bring the slaves and our remaining forces through the GATE, leave the wounded…" One of the Generals stood up, his chair slamming against the floor. "How heartless can you be! Our men are dying for us and you want to leave our wounded!" His eyes were filled with rage.

Maximus regarded him with a dull stare. "We simply don't have the time to bring our wounded back, and even if we did we simply don't have enough healers left to heal them all. Most will die of infection anyways." His tone was blunt and uncaring, but in truth it pained him to have to leave so many of the empire to rot and die in this far off lands.

The General continued to glare, his fist clenched. "Then I shall stay here with them, acting as the rear guard for you to run back to the empire with your tail between your legs…" Pious felt a small bubble of anger rise in him at the Generals remark.

Perhaps if his ego hadn't been shattered during the course of this invasion he would have lashed out against him, but he knew that he was right in his blame in this case to be called heartless in leaving their fallen comrades here.

"Then you will stay behind as we evacuate from these cursed lands." He sighed, before continuing. "May Emory watch over you and grant you the chance to wet your blade, and may Duncan bless your blade as you cover our retreat, you honor Emperor Molt with your actions, General Flavius Rex.." Pious slumped in his chair, essentially knowing he doomed the man to a fate possibly worse than death.

General Flavius remained standing, his posture indicating he had no intentions on taking back his words. "Get your remaining men situated then, I shall order for what is left of our demi-human vassals to launch one last counter assault to allow my men to form a defensive perimeter while they keep the barbarians attention." Pious nodded to the man, he rose out of his chair, walking over to Flavius.

"Is there anything you'd like me to tell your wife once we return back to the Empire?" His tone was now softer even with everything falling apart around them.

Flavius kept on the stoic look, he sighed closing his eyes. "Tell her I went out in defence of the Empire, and to make sure that my son continues with his lessons. Even in death I wish for him to succeed me once I pass on. I fight on not only for the Empire, but so that my family may continue to live on."

Pious placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "As your final request, in defence of the Empire. Once I return to the senate and tell them of our doomed expedition I shall see to it that I tell her myself."

General Flavius didn't say anything for a moment, his gaze seemed distant as he prepared himself to die in these lands. He turned back to Pious slowly, nodding as he donned his helmet.

"Once I return to my villa back home, I will crack open some of the finest wine I have on hand and drink to your name." Pious offered it to the man, knowing it probably ment little in the grand scheme of the gods, but the sentiment was good enough for him.

Flavius once again nodded, giving Pious one last salute. "I will look forward to seeing you in life here after, Pious…" He adjusted his scabbard, turning to the exit he halted just as he was about to step out.

"It was a mistake, coming here in the first place…" Before any of the other generals could respond to that, he stepped out into the raging battle outside. Pious turned back to the gathered generals, a grave look etched upon his facial features now.

"He is giving us scant few moments we have left. Send out your runners and recall all your forces. We. Are. Leaving." He emphasized his words, turning back to the runner still in the tent with them who was now shaking in fear.

"Alert your captain, we are to pull back with whatever we have left. Leave the demi-humans to cover our retreat along with General Flavius." The runner stood there a moment, before nodding hesitantly. "Then get going, runner…" He turned his back to the man.

"R..right away, sir!" Pious did not see the man salute, although the movement from behind him indicated the runner had done so. The tent flaps were heard being shoved open as the runner hasilty exited.

Once more, another explosion shook the grounds as the vibrations of one of their flying 'golems' buzzed over the encampment. The assembled generals gave each other disturbed looks before exiting as well to inform their men of the retreat order, leaving Pious alone in the tent.

He looked over the now emptied tent, sighing. "By the gods, what have we done…" he said to no one but himself, and yet. He felt he was not alone in this tent.

He looked to his side, swearing he felt the presence of someone else within the tent. Then looking to the exit of the tent he felt an icy chill grip him, as if the god of the underworld had been standing beside him moments ago. He shook himself out of his chills, nothing more than his nerves working up on him.

He gripped his helmet off of the table, inhaling as he turned to the tent flaps. "I can only hope the senate will listen to my report of this failed invasion…" He spoke softly to himself as he exited into the square that his camp was situated in.

Just as it was earlier, the GATE stood in the center of the camp. Several overturned barbarine contraptions, or as the men were calling them 'horseless carriages' were on their sides or shoved into the walls of the buildings lining the streets.

In the distance, the outline of explosions were visible as the enemy closed in ever closer. On a nearby house's roof the entire upper stairs had been cleared out so that part of the fourth ballista division could set up one of their weapons overlooking a nearby street.

The crew were frantically loading in a new bolt, with the assistance of a reserve mage casting levitation on the heavy bolt to load it in faster. "Hurry! The enemy steel elephants are almost upon us!" The crew members were manning the ballista, turning it as the bolt was secured.

"Prep, prep! Unleash the bolt!" The bolt in the ballista flew outwards into unseen enemies, then it was seen rebounding upwards, the tip portion was gone. Only the rear of the arrow was seen spiraling upwards.

Before even a minute had passed, where the Ballista had been was turned into an area of smoke and debris as a thunderous explosion consumed the area. Pious staggered back as wood and stone chunks pelted the area.

"That was the last of the fourth ballista division! We have no more ballistas this side of the GATE!" Pious mumbled to himself, he shook himself out his thoughts as he inhaled.

"LISTEN UP!" He yelled into the square, catching several of the officers and soldiers' attention. "WE ARE PULLING OUT OF THESE CURSED LANDS! GENERAL FLAVIOUS IS TO COVER OUR RETREAT ALONGSIDE THE NINTH DEMI-HUMAN VASSEL'S ARMY!" The gathered soliders had a mixed reaction to this, some were praising their gods for finally issuing the retreat order, others broke down crying, and some had a look of disgust on their faces, mostly this came from the nobles pretending to be officers.

"GET PACKED AND PREPARE TO FALL BACK!" Just then, a NATO AH-99 flew over the square, unleashing 20mm into a nearby cluster of men. Pious watched the engagement in horror, the level of brutality that was being unleashed upon his men.

"INCOMING! IT'S ONE OF THE VIBRATING GOLEMS!" One of the legionaries screamed in terror, the moral of the Empires army was reaching a critical breaking point.

As the AH-99 continued to lay down destruction onto his remaining forces, Pious shook himself out his stuper. "First Corps, I need you to distract the golem, lay down your lives if need be. I have an idea!" Pious shouted to his men, who reluctantly had to draw the helicopters attention as the 20mm cannon pounded them.

"Oh shit! Go, GO!" A legionary dived away as a red stream of bullets slammed into the ground behind him, he wasn't fast enough though as his leg was torn clean off from the 20mm rounds. "AGGHH..." The legionary's screams were cut short as more 20mm entered his body, causing him to turn into red mist with a shredded chest plate.

As his men tried to distract the helicopter Pious began to run towards the other side of the camp, where the last of the fourth siege battalion was located with their catapults. The runner that he had been speaking to earlier laid dead in the street, his throat and upper chest having been ripped apart by the barbarians' flame magic. Meanwhile the AH-99's cannon was still reverberating off the walls of the houses as he ran up to the officer incharge of the weapons.

The officer in question was shaking in fear, his lower clothing stained by liquid as he stared at the dead runner. Pious realized the man was going to be of no help to him, so he turned to the soldiers actually manning the catapult.

They were fearful, but weren't in a state of shock like their officer. "Can you men get a rock hurled into that golem?" His voice, while asking it like a question sounded more akin to a order.

The first to answer was a young junior officer, something akin to a NCO. "We'd need to get the catapult into position, then pray that it successfully hits it... " Although his tone carried a sense of worry to it, his words also carried a feeling of firmness to it.

Pious regarded the man for a scant moment, nodding in approval of the man's attitude on the matter. "See that it gets done, and quickly. I would rather not have what is left of the First Corps die in such a manner…" The AH-99 pilots were none the wiser to the situation as they continued to unleash their 20mm rounds into the legionaries below.

"Get the work orks over here, turn the catapult in the city facing direction!" The junior officer shouted to his men. Situated near the catapult were several orks wearing heavy chains and collars, gripping the base of the catapult.

"Get a move on you lot, hurry it up!" A legionary armed with a wip cracked it overhead of the ork 'workers'. Who responded by working faster for fear of being on the receiving end of the whip.

The catapult began to move, facing slowly towards the AH-99. Meanwhile said helicopter was currently moving slowly now, still hovering but listing to the right as it fired more rounds off into the dwindling legionaries below.

"Load the boulder!" A group of catapult operators hauled a large rounded rock to the catapult launcher, their arms becoming strained from hauling such a large object. "Eng...loaded!" The crew loaded the boulder onto the catapult. The junior officer unsheathed his sword from his scabbard, pointing it directly at the helicopter. "FIRE THE CATAPULT!" He bellowed to the operators. "FIRING THE CATAPULT!" The crew pulled the lever on the catapult, the taut ropes hauled the boulder upwards, launching it towards the AH-99.

Date, August, 2035.

ID: 1st Altian AFB QRF - NATO - Aerial Heavy Attack Reconnaissance squadron.

Location: City center, Kavala, Republic of Altis and Stratis.

POV: ISKIAL-5.

TIMESTAMP: A few moments before impact.

((NATO Playlist of awesomeness: "Alicorn" - Ace Combat 7: Composer Keiki Kobayshi.))

The AH-99 crew were busy mowing down what seemed to be the main forces encampment. "This is like fish in a barrel!" The gunner off handedly remarked as he began targeting a cluster of Legonarys.

The pilot moved the Black Foot into a hovering position, right above the main group of tents. "Lucky for us, you're cleared hot, weapon's free on all targets." The pilot gave the order to his gunner, who more than willingly obliged his orders.

The sound of the AH-99's 20mm cannon could be heard inside the cockpit as the gunner began to lay down suppressing fire on their forces.

"Hang on, got a runner here…" The pilot looked to his FLIR vision, a 'roman' legionary had managed to avoid a stream of 20mm from his gunner.

The pilot checked the gunner's camera, seeing the man was just at the edge of the gunner's area of fire. "Yeah, I see him, adjusting rotation…" He shifted his helicopter over to the right a little to adjust to hit the running man.

The 20mm stream of bullets slammed right through the man's leg, slicing it right off. "Ouch, it looked like it had to hurt…" The 'roman' was seen collapsing, his mouth open in a scream just as the 20mm hit his torso evaporating him into a fog of dust and mist as the bullets slammed into the ground around him.

"Good shots, good shots.." The pilot commented, adjusting the AH-99 further. Suddenly his warning system flared to life. "IMPACT IMMINENT, IMPACT IMMINENT!" The digitized voice yelled at him.

"What in the fu.." He cut off mid sentence, looking at his HUD's radar he saw an unknown object meters away slamming into the helicopter. His eyes widened upon realizing he was probably screwed. "BRACE! BRACE!" He yelled into his microphone.

The AH-99 shuddered violently as he was shoved off course. "PULL UP, PULL UP, PULL UP!" The automated voice yelled into his ears.

"SON OF A BITCH!" He yelled in response, he then began to radio the AFB. "Mayday mayday! This is Iskial-5! Our AH-99 was hit with an unknown object we are going down, I say again we are going down!"

His AH-99 continued to spin out of control, looking to the side he saw black smoke billowing out behind the helicopter as he spun out of control. "Iskial-5, this is Altis AFB ATC, we are tracking you on radar and drone feed. Stand by…" The person on the other end of the radio cut off as they tried to figure out what to do.

He gripped his joystick, trying to keep his AH-99 from spinning out into the ground. "Come on, keep afloat a little longer buddy…!" He spoke to the helicopter in a futile attempt to keep its 'machine spirit' from crashing.

"Iskial-5, try and divert away from the enemy position and attempt to return to friendly lines, local ground forces will be diverted to pick you up upon emergency landing." The ATC once more came over the radio.

"Better said than done.." He grumbled as he felt the helicopter lose even more control. "PULL UP, PULL UP, PULL U…" He slammed his fist into the automated system control, grunting. "Not, fucking, now!" He growled at the automated systems voice.

He managed to pull up, albeit just barely, over the rooftops. Managing to regain some minor control he tried to even out the flight path. Suddenly his gunner began screaming. "FUCKING SHIT! SHIT! ITS ONE OF THEIR MAGES, RIGHT THERE ON THE FUCKING ROOF!"

He turned his attention to his FLIR system, although glitching out with intermediate static he spotted the outline of someone in robes. "Ah fuck, shit! Isaac engages him, get him before he gets us man!" He felt the helicopter shift once more as he began losing control, he fiercely gripped the controls as he tried desperately to keep them level.

"Shit, that impact fucked up my guns, I can't fire! Ah hell, ah sweet jesus!" The helicopter began to spin once more.

"What is it now!?" The pilot exclaimed, sparks flying off in the compartment now. "HE IS CHARGING A FIREBALL...no..no..NO! IT'S ALREADY FUCKING CHARGED! BRACE BRACE!" The gunner, 'Isaac' screamed.

Looking out of the spinning helicopter compartment, he saw a rapidly closing in fireball, his eyes widened once more. "Oh sh.." The engine block of the helicopter was hit directly, the already battered helicopter exploded mid air, showering the street below in falling debris. All crew KIA.

Colonel Armstrong, several miles off the coast of Kavala watched the footage from the drone feed silently cursing. The Altis AFB ATC was heard speaking over the radio on battalion net. "Stand by, we have confirmed reports of a Blackfoot down, I say again, Blackfoot down…"

Armstrong shook his head while rubbing his eyes as the footage of the now burning AH-99 played on a digital screen setup aboard the USS Freedom's briefing room.

"Christ…" He grumbled to himself as the drone footage circled over the burning wreck of the AH-99, shortly after the footage zoomed out to show most of the city. The smoke trail going skyward from the helicopter crash was just one of many smoke plumes expanding over the city.

The drone footage showed the locations of the other forces currently in the city, marked with either a green or blue box to indicate which of the fighting forces belonged to their respective fighting forces, NATO and the RAAF marked as blue while the positions still occupied by the retreating 'romans' marked as red.

Kavala was slowly coming once more under the joint NATO-RAAF control again, but casualties were slowly mounting up. But, Armstrong thought to himself grimley, the 111th was making good time and really smashing apart the enemies morale. They would certainly have the city recaptured in a matter of hours by the way progress was being made now.

For now, the Colonel lit a cigarette, illuminating his grizzled face in the darkened room of the Aircraft carrier command center, content to listen to comms traffic and give orders when needed too.

((Yeah, this was a not long chapter coming, and honestly very short. I'm not too proud of it but at the same time I can't find any drive to add more to it. I unfortunately am coming down with the horrid case of writer's block and I venimently wish I could break out of it. I will return the POV to the Altians next chapter for the 'thrilling' conclusion, Until then, Medical Idiot 1-1 out, hopefully not for the last time in a while.))