08-27-2023, 11:38 PM
Southern Auria
October 26th, 2023, 12:17 AM
"How can an entire army disappear?!"
Captain Lira Marš looked around incredulously at the abandoned barricades and battlements, trying to find any trace of the Aurian and Xiomeran troops that built them. Her troops were gingerly tearing all of the structures apart, careful to avoid any potential booby traps or mines (despite the fact that Eirian mine robots had gone through the structure without finding any). All of the soldiers shared the same expression of confusion that Marš had as they pushed over sandbags and wooden barricades.
“There were trucks here a couple hours ago. Recon thought that they were bringing in reinforcements before the fighting began again. Apparently not.” Gaks Dukurs, one of Marš’ Lieutenants, spoke as he scanned the surrounding tree line. “Drone scans on either side of the road show no enemy combatants for at least four hundred meters, likely more. They just… left the front line abandoned.”
The Captain pursed her lips. “Shit.” She turned to a nearby Private. “Tell the signal officer to radio the Intelligence Battalion. We need to know where the hell those combatants went.” She raised her voice, addressing the members of her company that had gone further forward in the maze sandbags. “The rest of you, don’t exit the other side of the barricaded area. I don’t trust this disappearing act one bit. They could double back and start picking us off.”
She carefully made her way to the final stretch of obstacles, crouching and taking out her binoculars. The road ahead was relatively straight for almost a kilometer before it climbed a hull and disappeared, so Marš had a pretty clear view. And yet, the road was empty, save for the occasional hole or downed tree branch. They’re not on the road, and they’re not in the woods. They could be waiting up over that hill, but that’s still pretty shallow. Why would they abandon their fortifications for that?
Where are they?!
—
Downtown Lumiere
The man who called himself “Daniel Benar” stood on the balcony of his new apartment, admiring the few stars that shone over Lumiere. You know, for a government-issued apartment, this is actually quite nice. I guess there is a bright side to thousands of people fleeing the country.
He took one last mental picture of the sky before heading back inside, closing the door behind him. His living room wasn’t the most spacious, but still, it beat the military common areas that he had spent months in before moving here. He picked up a picture frame from the end table, admiring the faces of the family that had fled Lumiere soon after the coup. Weak traitors. They couldn’t stomach the growing pains of our nation. What cowards.
He took the photo out, and with a sick grin, tore it up into tiny shreds. After placing the scraps in the trash can, he walked through the bedroom, making a beeline for the closet. A number of dull orange uniforms hung there, slightly worse for wear. With a sigh, he took each one, gave them a regretful examination, and tossed them into a trash bag. What a waste. You’d think they’d be able to reuse these, instead of me having to burn them.
Once the final uniform was trashed, the man took a small box from his bedside drawer. Inside, his medals, insignias, and name plate sat, the last remaining evidence of his service in the Garda Nacōnals. He gingerly placed it in the trash bag before sealing it and placing it by the door.
With that last act, every trace of former Captain Henrē Duval was gone. Records had already been expunged, and any photo from his service had been scattered and burned. All that remained was the man who called himself "Daniel Benar," who lived in an abandoned apartment in Lumiere. With his forged records, no one would think twice about questioning his supposed identity.
And for the Coalition, that would prove to be a major oversight.
October 26th, 2023, 12:17 AM
"How can an entire army disappear?!"
Captain Lira Marš looked around incredulously at the abandoned barricades and battlements, trying to find any trace of the Aurian and Xiomeran troops that built them. Her troops were gingerly tearing all of the structures apart, careful to avoid any potential booby traps or mines (despite the fact that Eirian mine robots had gone through the structure without finding any). All of the soldiers shared the same expression of confusion that Marš had as they pushed over sandbags and wooden barricades.
“There were trucks here a couple hours ago. Recon thought that they were bringing in reinforcements before the fighting began again. Apparently not.” Gaks Dukurs, one of Marš’ Lieutenants, spoke as he scanned the surrounding tree line. “Drone scans on either side of the road show no enemy combatants for at least four hundred meters, likely more. They just… left the front line abandoned.”
The Captain pursed her lips. “Shit.” She turned to a nearby Private. “Tell the signal officer to radio the Intelligence Battalion. We need to know where the hell those combatants went.” She raised her voice, addressing the members of her company that had gone further forward in the maze sandbags. “The rest of you, don’t exit the other side of the barricaded area. I don’t trust this disappearing act one bit. They could double back and start picking us off.”
She carefully made her way to the final stretch of obstacles, crouching and taking out her binoculars. The road ahead was relatively straight for almost a kilometer before it climbed a hull and disappeared, so Marš had a pretty clear view. And yet, the road was empty, save for the occasional hole or downed tree branch. They’re not on the road, and they’re not in the woods. They could be waiting up over that hill, but that’s still pretty shallow. Why would they abandon their fortifications for that?
Where are they?!
—
Downtown Lumiere
The man who called himself “Daniel Benar” stood on the balcony of his new apartment, admiring the few stars that shone over Lumiere. You know, for a government-issued apartment, this is actually quite nice. I guess there is a bright side to thousands of people fleeing the country.
He took one last mental picture of the sky before heading back inside, closing the door behind him. His living room wasn’t the most spacious, but still, it beat the military common areas that he had spent months in before moving here. He picked up a picture frame from the end table, admiring the faces of the family that had fled Lumiere soon after the coup. Weak traitors. They couldn’t stomach the growing pains of our nation. What cowards.
He took the photo out, and with a sick grin, tore it up into tiny shreds. After placing the scraps in the trash can, he walked through the bedroom, making a beeline for the closet. A number of dull orange uniforms hung there, slightly worse for wear. With a sigh, he took each one, gave them a regretful examination, and tossed them into a trash bag. What a waste. You’d think they’d be able to reuse these, instead of me having to burn them.
Once the final uniform was trashed, the man took a small box from his bedside drawer. Inside, his medals, insignias, and name plate sat, the last remaining evidence of his service in the Garda Nacōnals. He gingerly placed it in the trash bag before sealing it and placing it by the door.
With that last act, every trace of former Captain Henrē Duval was gone. Records had already been expunged, and any photo from his service had been scattered and burned. All that remained was the man who called himself "Daniel Benar," who lived in an abandoned apartment in Lumiere. With his forged records, no one would think twice about questioning his supposed identity.
And for the Coalition, that would prove to be a major oversight.
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