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Commercial Conflicts: Diary of a Fusilier

Discussion in 'FanFic' started by Apps0206, Apr 5, 2019.

  1. Apps0206

    Apps0206 Member

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    Commercial Conflicts: Diary of a Fusilier.

    =============
    Extracts from a Fusilier's personal commlog.

    To protect the Fusilier from retribution, identity, dates, names of people and places have been withheld.
    =============

    >Soon off to this new planet called Dawn. Apparently it's populated by a small number of 8 million or so Ateks. We are being moved there to protect PanOceania interests. To be honest, I'm more worried about the Yu Jing troops stationed there. I think I'll leave mum a message to let her know her little girl is going to be fine. It's not my first rodeo.

    >Preparing to drop. Feeling a bit of apprehension. Nomad and Haqq ships are here too, but I think they are neutral. I could see some fire on the planet from orbit. Lieutenant told us not to look or think about it too much.

    >We got fucking shot at before we even landed. The landing site was supposed to be secure! Dropship crashed and the machine gun fire tore into us while we were concussed. The lieutenant was shot in the neck. It was chaos, and we fired back blindly at an unseen enemy. We managed to evacuate and link up with reinforcements sent to support us. The reaction force did not find anything.

    >Barracks were as expected, but it is much more empty than it should have been. My hands couldn't stop shaking. We were slaughtered like sheep. Their bullets tore through us and blew out massive chunks like they were from a much larger calibre. What the hell were they loading their guns with?
    I'm sure the LT will get resurrected, but that is still a lot of us that died in that ambush. A third of a regiment gone by some underhanded attack. Cowards!

    >We moved out to do a sweep of a city we liberated. We got reports of local fighters operating in the area. Life seems hard on this planet, and they have the physique to match. I would have mistaken them all for soldiers. Natives don't look too bad if I'm honest, if only they were not looking at us with such hostility. Ungrateful savages.

    >Fuck this city. Our squad walked into an IED. Blew up five of us out of nowhere. Before we could even get our bearings we came under fire from the rooftop. I was so fucking scared, despite having a cube. My training saved me, I think. The firefight was a blur, but by the end of it, we found the bodies of two natives. A boy, barely sixteen, and an older woman. The boy was wounded, but the woman was dead. We took him back to the base for interrogation.

    >The other soldiers back at the base stripped the boy naked and beat him. I wanted to stop them, but I didn't. What could I do? I'm sure the boy deserved it.

    >Yes, the boy definitely deserved it. The platoon lost a quarter of its number today because of this asshole. But why do I feel so sick when they dragged him out the back and shot him in the head? They blew up the body hide evidence.

    >Our base was bombarded by mortars. Hackers couldn't do anything. Our team was sent out to seek and destroy, but we only found some mortar tube centuries out of date. It was literally cobbled together with some pieces of metal and that's it. No wonder our hackers couldn't do anything. Fucking locals just looked at us from their houses, and we had no way of telling if they were fighters or civilians. My trigger finger itched terribly, and I felt as if I was in a sniper's sights. A shell had hit the side of the barracks. We would be sleeping in the cold tonight.

    >One of our guys went missing. Apparently, according to another unit, he wasn't the first. A week prior to our arrival, a Neoterra Bolt, had vanished too. He was later found, but had to be taken back in a body bag. We feared the worst for our man. We wanted to look for him, but we were being called to reinforce another battalion fighting to take another settlement. That battalion had been bogged down for days and had suffered high casualties, so we did not have the time to look for our man. A Nisse found him later that night, while the special forces were mopping up in their area, in a closed bodybag that seemed too small to be him.

    >I had thought service guaranteed resurrection. It's been a few weeks here and the barracks keep getting emptier. Maybe the waiting list was too long? Just how many people are we losing to these damned Ateks?

    >We had encircled a shot up hospital our forces had been trying to take for a while now. We had TAG support this time too, a Squalo, and a few heavy infantry units too. The pilot was miles behind away from danger and the heavy infantry were almost just as protected. Wish the same could be said for me. Through loudspeaker, we asked them to surrender. The reply, which was in English, surprisingly, made it clear that they would rather die fighting. Of course, we obliged them. It was a bloodbath. I never want to fight the Ariadnans in such close proximity again. We were ordered to storm the hospital, but the Ariadnans had booby-trapped the entire place. Each corner we turned was a crude tripwire to a grenade. Each corridor we moved down had a flamethrower waiting around the corner. These people do not even understand the concept of cubes yet their attacks are almost suicidal. Do they hate us this much?
    We evacuated our wounded and returned back, by this time there were only a handful of Ariadnan's alive. The majority of them were obviously wounded fighters, and it was as if every patient in the hospital had taken up a crude rifle to shoot at us. By the end, all that were left were those too sick or too crippled to leave their beds.
    Hexaedron operatives took the enemy wounded away. I was so tired it did not occur to me to feel sick until the next day. The prisoners were stripped naked and beaten until they were black and blue, before they were tossed in the back of a truck. One of them had both her legs blown off, and the Hexaedron goons made her crawl on her bleeding stumps, mocking her with animal noises all the way. They had broken the hands and feet of one that tried to run, and tied him to the back of the truck. To my surprise, I watched as some of my squad members smirk and even outright laugh at the display.
    I think, I hope, we were just too tired.

    >One of my friends had started collecting fingers he had chopped off the enemy. We did not report it, but we only found out when his personal belongings had started to smell. I don't know what this place is doing to us. I've developed a habit counting the days to the end of my tour. I did not want to believe it, but despite all our tech and training, these Ateks are giving us hell.

    >Out of nowhere, we were ordered to reinforce several squads of Military Orders. I don't know if I should feel safer because now we literally have a wall of armour, or scared because of the massive swords they are carrying. As long as they tell us to charge with them, I think I'll be fine.

    >We had come under fire when moving to our next objective. My armour saved me from rocket shrapnel. An Order sergeant was not so lucky. Battlefield magic sent a piece right through the small gap between the armour and into his neck. They seemed to just be targeting our TAGs, because as soon as the initial volley was loosed, none followed up. We didn't even see where the shots were fired from. We had long learned to not pursue, but those religious fanatics sent us on. We lost two more people to the mines they placed, and only found a large spent cannon shell a sort.

    >I have heard reports from the conflict over on the West. The units there were having as much trouble as us, if not more. Behind every blade of grass, there was a gun threatening to kill them. Apparently everyone and their mothers carried a rifle, and any attempts at disarming the general populace had only ended in bloodshed. What a nightmare.

    >The Military Orders went mad, I'm sure of it. They torched an entire settlement. I refused to participate in the "battle" because there was not one. Apparently Hexaedron had got wind of a group of these so called, "Spetsnaz" operatives in the area. We went house to house, room to room, searching for any signs of enemy activity. Surely enough we found a few guns, but every household had at least one in these areas. One of the Knights went too rough on this old man and, I don't know how else I could describe it, but the man transformed into a werewolf of a sort, and tore the Knight's clean off his shoulders. He went on to rip apart several of the Orders, before he was cut down himself. A bombardment was ordered on the settlement after, and we left without finding anything of worth.

    >A Kazak voice came over the entire battalion's Commlog later that night. "God is with us," it had said, "truth and justice is on our side of this war." At once, we knew the Military Orders Lieutenant that led the operation had been killed.

    >A retaliation was ordered, and Hexaedron operatives turned up with a girl, barely fighting age. I put her through mock executions, shooting my pistol next to her head. That did not work. Her tune changed quick after we had our Tech Bee hook her up to the power supply of one of the drones. Another squad then took her into the armoury for "interrogation". I didn't sleep that night. I could hear her screams and cries from my bed. Early in the morning, her body was detonated to hide any evidence.
    I can still hear the laughter of our soldiers.

    >The girl had given up intel on the names and location of a lieutenant leading operations in the area. I was part of the kill team sent. When we snuck up on the destination, we already had recon pinpoint a few soldiers ready for a fight. It's always been like this when we landed: we don't see the enemy, and wait to be shot at. The firefight that followed had several of the team killed and wounded, but the enemy target got away.

    >We got news of new blood coming in to reinforce, and we immediately set out to secure the area. Thankfully, nothing happened this time. A pitiful handful of soldiers were rotated out. I dreamed I was on the dropship off this dirty world.

    >A solider in our camp had lost it. He shot and killed two officers, and ran off into the wilderness. We went looking for the man, but didn't turn up with anything. A detachment of Bolts found him, torn up by the local wildlife. Was everything on this planet trying to kill us?

    >I don't know what just happened, but an entire pack of wolf-like beasts just tore through our base. Everything is in ruins, and most of the Military Orders are dead. Those things tore through protective armour like paper. I've heard reports of landing sites further out going dark, but I never imagine it happening here so close to civilization. We were just returning from combat patrol, so we still had our gear on. We fought them off, but I think the damage has been done. I think we need to relocate altogether.

    >I was told that those animals were called "Antipodes", and such attacks are common on this planet. Ariadnan fighters must have driven a pack right into our base and had them do the dirty work for them. I've had enough of this shithole.

    >We were transferred to the frontlines. Artillery strikes, assassinations, all out fucking war. The way things are fought on this end makes my stomach turn. What is worse, is apparently the commander has ties to the Hexaedron, and there was an unusually high number of those spooks in this base.
    Our first mission there was to support another unit of Bolts and Hexas to conduct "psychological" warfare on the Ariadnans outpost. I almost vomited when I realized why they had brought along four prisoners we had captured.
    The four were Line Kazaks, rank and file soldiers like me. Three boys and a girl, all roughed up and bruised. They all looked so young. The Hexas took the girl, using her as a shield, and stood on the far end of the road leading up to the Ariadnan outpost. He shouted to get the attention of the soldiers. He then pinned the girl's head under his foot, and stabbed her once in the throat with his blade, before retreating back the corner.
    I watched the girl bleed out in the dirty mud, her bound hands twitching. I closed my eyes and covered my ears. I couldn't bear to listen to the sounds of her weeping, and her apologies to her mother. This went on for a few minutes, before I couldn't stand it anymore. I leveled my rifle and shot the suffering girl. The Hexas and Bolts gave me dirty looks, but did nothing. Instead, they kept their eyes on me as they slit the throats of the rest with agonizing and deliberate slowness, amplifying their screams and gurgles through loudspeaker. One of the Hexas snipers let off a shot at the furious Ariadnans, and they responded in kind.
    We threw the bodies out in plain view, and we headed back.

    >I want to go home. No wonder they hate us. We come here unannounced, we take their land and resources and sell them out to Megacorps. We come to torture and kill them for daring to defend themselves. I try not to dwell upon it, but maybe that is why the squad leader shot himself in the head this morning. He couldn't live with himself. I don't know how much longer I can go on too.

    >Fighting had intensified throughout the area. Bodies lay rotting on the streets, ours and the enemies. No one went to collect them. Hungry dogs gnawed on the corpses in our plain view, and the civilians still living in the area look like lost souls wandering purgatory. No wonder people were not getting resurrected. We just leave them out here like garbage, food for the stray dogs and fat flies.
    The eyes of the old women are the worst to look at. They held no hatred, no resentment. Just sadness, as if asking us why did we come to this planet to kill their sons and daughters. I couldn't meet their stares, so I kept my eyes on the corpses, looking out for explosive traps.

    >I'm twenty-five today, although I feel like I have aged to a thousand. I think I'll quit the military after this, find myself a good cushy job back on Neoterra. My birthday kicked off with a mopping up operation. Battle was short was uneventful. We bagged three fighters and they got a few of us, but otherwise nothing too out of the ordinary happened.
    It was after, when we sat around in groups like idiots after the battle, did we pay the price. We must have missed a forward observer, because we all heard the whistle that came for us. I had been tired, but upon that whistle I could run another ten kilometres if I had to. All I did was throw myself to the ground, and curl up into a tiny ball. I prayed to god above to spare me. I didn't want to die on my birthday. I could hear the red not shrapnel scream above my head with each explosion, but all I could do was press myself deeper into the ground and hope one didn't land directly on me. Our machine gunner dragged me along into a ditch I did not see, and we lay there waiting for the bombardment to pass.
    When it was over, he smiled and looked at me, "Oh, I forgot. Happy birthday!"
    I couldn't help but laugh.

    >A group of women came up the road today, and I almost shot at them. It wasn't an uncommon sight in these areas. They were going from corpse to corpse, even boldly walking up to us with old printed pictures in their hands, looking for their ill-fated sons and daughters. I watched as they studied mangled and rotted faces for a long time, before moving onto the next. There were some shrieks and moans in the distance, and I was thankful none of them had approached me with a picture in hand.
    A fellow fusilier had told me he heard about Cooperate hired mercenaries targeting these groups, abducting women looking for their sons or husbands, rape and kill them before blowing up any evidence. I could believe that, because I've seen fellow soldiers wearing our uniform do the same.
    One of them finds her son, and our unit gave her a body bag, and pointed her to known Ariadnan held territory. May god bless her soul.
    The group moved onwards, undoubtedly to another combat zone.
    I messaged my mother that night, and left her a voice message.
    I love you, mum.

    >I became a child-killer today. My hands keep itching, and everything I ate today keeps coming back out. I know it was an accident but I could not stop thinking what else I could have done. It had been a simple mop up operation in another settlement, but when we came under fire, it was a well set up ambush.
    Our drones and TAGs got hit first, the usual ambush tactics the Ariadnans use, and as we scrambled for cover, mines and IEDs went off. There were so many bullets in the air I could hardly keep my head up to aim my rifle.
    I should have realized this, but the Ariadnans must have melted back into whatever shithole they came from because suddenly people just stopped getting shot at. We had thought they were taking their time to reload, so we immediately counterattacked into their direction. We were terrified, pumped up on adrenaline, and twitchy.
    I saw a shadow in the corner of my eye, up by the windows, so I threw in a grenade. It was not until after the firefight, did I find out who it was.
    A child, that much was obvious. All that was left were small severed arms and a foot. I did not think much of it until we returned to base. I had told the others but all they did was shrug and say "These things happen, sometimes.".

    >I think I'm going home, earlier than the others. I don't know if I'm lucky or not, because all it cost me were my fingers on my left hand. I guess lucky, because a few more centimetres up, the bullet would have gone through my face instead of ricocheting off my rifle.

    >I was getting my wounds dressed, when I hear a three round burst of fire. I remember hearing our sergeant screaming at someone, only held back by two of our guys.
    Some idiot from another unit had gotten drunk and accidentally let loose some rounds. One bullet had torn off a patient's ear, and I would have thought him to be a corpse if he wasn't blinking rapidly and looking around like a lost dog. A Bolt sergeant attended to the man. He later began thrashing so more Bolts held him down.
    Our unit sniper was hit in the stomach and neck. The sergeant did everything he could to save our man. Our sniper gritted his teeth, vainly trying to stop the bleeding despite it being bandaged. He was pale, and shaking hard.
    "Shame, really," I remembered him saying, "Almost made it home."
    I said, "You will make it home my friend, you'll be resurrected. You'll see."
    All he did was look at me and smile. He then sat there, unable to speak. We load him into a truck to transport him to the nearest hospital. I went with them, as did the sergeant. Our man's condition deteriorated as the journey progressed, but we were stopped by the unit stationed to guard the hospital.
    They would not let us through, not without the correct datapacks.
    These rear echelon motherfuckers who spent their entire deployment comfortably in the back lines had refused to let us through, uncaring that our man was dying.
    He was afraid of protocol violation, and the consequences that carried with it. The consequences being sent to the frontlines. They see the fate of our man, and think it might be theirs. Our sergeant almost shot the rats at the gate, but instead opted to punch the man. We crashed through the gate regardless.
    Our sniper did not make it in time. As it turns out, the sergeant saw where the round had gone, and the sniper knew it too. The sergeant promised to send the body and the shattered pieces of his cube back to home planet.

    >The next day, we got reports of a fusilier that disappeared from camp. The Bolts found him tied up in the basement of a house, strung up like an animal and gutted like one too. His cube had been removed, and was never found. His death was written off as another casualty: killed by Ariadnan fighters.
    Of course, we knew better.

    >I was shipped out soon, but I was surprisingly reluctant to leave my friends on Dawn. I felt guilty about leaving them to fight without me, but at the same time, happy. I survived! I was finally out of Dawn!

    >>>>

    >It's been a long while since I wrote anything.
    I've been trying to move on, but my mind won't let me. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I'm back on the damn Ariadnan mountains. My buddies and I looking out for any sign of danger, or waiting for the inevitable sniper shot that will kick off an hour long gunfight. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, because it felt like one of those Foxtrot spooks are going to slit my throat.
    But I'm moving on, with help obviously. I was tempted to go for another spin on Dawn, but the look in my mother's eyes when she saw me step off that dropship stops me.
    I've come back to this diary after a visit to the military cemetery. It's an odd thing, cemeteries, in a day and age where cubes are implanted for every service member. Suicide is a way of knowing if one person doesn't want to be resurrected, and I know of some of my friends that had their cubes damaged in the fighting. From my understanding, the Ariadnans had loaded electromagnetic rounds along with their usual bullets. With all our technology, training, centuries of advantage, we are still dying like animals against them. If nothing else, that demands respect.
    The war was still ongoing, and despite every media outlet trying to pass it off as a minor conflict with Ateks on a planet a fraction of our number, those who had served there knew the truth.
    I stood in front of a row grey headstones and read their names. I recognize some of them. Most of them had been killed exactly a year ago. That company had lost almost a hundred men in that one fateful battle. A battle that began a day after I left.
    I do firmly believe somehow, I died on Dawn, on Ariadna. Many of us left a piece of our soul there. I wandered down and finally came upon the area I had been looking for. I feel tears running down my face, yet I do not feel sad.
    Welcome home, boys.
    =============
     
  2. Golem2God

    Golem2God Just a humble Raktorak serving others.

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    @Apps0206 Very well written story of the conflict through a single Fusilier's eyes. It show what war does to people and that there are no winners both morally. Everyone suffers and mentally shatters with some being able to be put back together and continue living despite the horrible memories of what transpired.
     
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  3. Asreon_

    Asreon_ Confused bardic artist

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    It makes you cringe, therefore it is good. Even though it is bad (from what´s happening, not the writing^^).
     
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  4. Danger Rose

    Danger Rose Sand Cats Tactical Security LLC

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    Simply amazing. I can't praise enough your writting skills. It felt real.
     
    Golem2God likes this.