Devil's Advocate

Battle of The Fjord

Sweet little Mary, the same girl who engraved his initials into the submachine gun resting on his lap. What was this world coming to?

He was broken out of his thoughts by the sounds of static, glancing at the communications officer. "What's going on?" He gruffly asked, standing up quickly.

"I don't know." The man replied with a confused voice. "For some reason, we've lost contact with a patrol ship." Anson felt dread slowly creep into his system as Gunner, his second in command, asked.

"Equipment trouble?" All he received was a shrug. "Everything's working fine, it might be a problem on their end." The officer replied as Anson leaned over his shoulder, examining the equipment closely. "What about the other patrol ships?" He asked, making the man tune in to the proper frequency. They were greeted by static as the officer spoke. "The same, I'm getting nothing but static from all three of them." His answer made Anson grip his weapon tightly, something wasn't right here. Those boats were supposed to check in every thirty minutes, past communications were clear of interference. What the hell was going on here?

A distant explosion made the men gasp in surprise, making them look outside the windows of their compound to see a plume of smoke slowly rise into the air from further down the coast. Another collection of explosions dot the distant landscape, Anson could barely make out the sight of multiple figures flying through the air. The enemy was here?! A mage force of that size would have been detected long before now, that means they were transported here, possibly paradropped. Gunner watched in shock as the enemy continued to wreak havoc on the coastal forts.

"The enemy must have paradropped..." He said with narrowed eyes, briefly spotting another battalion holding their position high above the chaos. What were they doing? Why aren't they engaging? His eyes slowly widened when he saw a brief flash of green from one of the figures, shouting loudly. "Incoming!" His men quickly hid behind something solid as an explosive spell detonated right outside the window, obliterating the railing outside as well as the communication equipment. Anson heard the communication officer wheeze in pain as he weakly gripped a shard of wood embedded in his chest, one of his men was quick to drag the man to safety as he barked out orders.

"We need to move out! Engage those Imperial bastards and kick them out of the fjord!" His men scrambled to get combat ready as he tried to discern the enemy's objective. Why launch such a precise strike here when the fighting was raging elsewhere?

He didn't like this in the slightest.

-

"Damn, just grazed him." Bruno mumbled as he cycled another round into his rifle, slowly lowering it as he gazed down at the crumbling forts. Tanya's battalion was cutting through the enemy, firing explosive spells into the hastily assembled defenders with devastating results. He spied a man scrambling to set up a machine gun, prompting the boy to put a hole through his skull and sew further panic amongst the defenders. Machine guns were a big problem since they had a higher chance to hit a mage compared to your average rifleman, don't have to worry about accuracy when you could fill the air with countless rounds.

He would know, he got to fire two so far. Great fun despite the circumstances.

His battalion was idly picking off high value targets as spotters called them out, keeping an eye out for the slightest hint of magic. "Got one going for the flak gun, running down the staircase to the right, see him?" A soldier asked, making Walter hum for a moment before he found the sprinting man. He smirked and fired, sending the man to the ground with a hole in his chest as he responded. "Dusted."

"Got a brave one making a run for that MG, second floor."

Petra's cold voice came through the radio as she cycled a fresh round, watching the man fall back with a spurt of blood as she reported. "Neutralized."