Setting
Raem is Inari's largest output source into other planets. It generates commerce like no other seen in the Ilthis Star system. But, as it would have many people, it would have many opinions, and was a melting pot for the initial revolution for the Equitarians. Since the first riots, there's always been some form of physical conflict in the city. Although the Wrenthal soldier count has been severely cut down, large pockets of civilians remain to fend for themselves. Controlling this spaceport would mean that Wrenthal could start shipping supplies to its fronts on Inari en mass, or Trythol could do the same.
The fight waging here is more important than all other battles on Inari. Apathy will only lead to more destruction.
Setting
0.00 INK
"Sir, we can see the Omegas from here, one mile they have and they're moving fast!" a soldier said to his lieutenant. They were held out in a worn skyscraper, waiting for reinforcements as they fired down upon the surrounding buildings and streets with whatever they had left.
"Good, now get your squad and start moving towards Cpt. Demoire's detachment, we need to re-establish a line with him. He should be Northeast of here making his way down. And John..." The soldier looked at him.
"Yeah, West?"
"I'm proud to have served with you so long... you've done your best, don't fail me now." The soldier turned to him and saluted, not exactly understanding where that expression came from. "Now get out of here, you have your objectives."
The soldier ran off through the building darkened halls, a firefight persisted as the unit took cover in the building.
"Sir, I see two armor platoons coming down from Keith Street," said a radio beside the lieutenant, while he stood studying a map, trying to figure out where they could possibly go with so little room left.
"Do it." There was a long pause, you could hear someone screaming "man down" as some stray bullets hit the wall behind him.
A thunderous explosion rang throughout the city, a large cloud of dust and smoke came from another desolated husk of a 64 story building just down the street as tanks fired upon the unit's fortified position making the building shake. But the detonation of these bombs silenced everything for the few moments it took the building to toppled upon armored vehicles in the street below.
"The armor's been neutralized, sir!" the radio said. The gunshots picked up again, soon enough.
The streets were heavy with fighting and there was no way that she was going out in the middle of it but her vehicle was tipped on two wheels and leaning against the wall of a building, the window was busted out and there was just enough room for her to slip though and take cover between the vehicle and the wall. Checking to make sure she still had her gun she then grabbed her satchel filled with more rounds, a flash light, her identity card, and some money then used it to break out the rest of the glass so she didn't cut herself on her way though. Straining a bit she pulled herself through and fell to the ground landing on her good side.
Peaking around the front end of the truck she checked her surroundings. The fire fight had moved away from her but that didn't mean the crater filled roads were safe. Upholstering her gun she crouched and looked for some other form of cover to take her down the road maybe find some place where the civilians were being taken out of the war zone or something. She brushed some hair out of her face and made her way to an upturned slab of concrete. Still in a crouch she looked around again for the next spot to hide behind, that's when she saw them. A group of soldiers and a young civilian girl. Faye started to call out then thought the better of it, instead she fished her out her flash light. As a co-captain of her ship her father had taught her Morse code, it wasn't used often anymore but desperate time and all. Aiming the light at the man leading the group she flicked the light on and off sending out an SOS signal and hoped it wasn't bright enough out that the signal wouldn't get washed out.
"A little further," someone behind her whispered. She was so tired, she could barely move any further, but she crawled along behind the others anyway.
"Almost," Someone in front of her hissed. Anya's white blouse was covered in streaks of mud and grime, her pants were ruined and ripped, and her head ached from being starved-- such was the way when you opposed the Trythol forces. She wanted to lie down and rest. If she closed her eyes and rested, she'd feel better later. But she kept moving further and further along, into the dismal, dangerous outside world where she wasn't safe and there wouldn't be regular food.
Why am I leaving the camp again? she thought. Here, there... who cares where she was? No matter where she went, Anya would die.
She still had this deep seated want to live... to live and keep living. She crawled further forward. A little further and she'd be free to live outside of the clutches of the others. A little further... a little further...
She heard gun shots. People were crying out around her. She wasn't sure-- should she keep moving forward or stop moving altogether? There was so much panic. People kept getting gunned down.
The others were moving. But Anya was still. She closed her eyes and rested. Quietly, she sang to herself, preparing to die.
- 4 posts here • Page 1 of 1