15-02-2025, 07:26 PM
Quote:[Likatonian Mountains Eastern Border, October 9th, 5612]
Sgt. Vulkavic finished cleaning his rifle and began reading the report on stockpiles for the 9th Brigade of the K-Division. Tandem warheads, 7.76 FMJ, hand grenades, medical supplies, and many other necessities. The Likatonians had padded out what they were lacking in, but the last Kundrati shipment hadn't been for 6 months since the battle in the Artanian sea.
Across the border the coalition forces gathered, a hurricane would arrive on them any day now, a hurricane of shells, rockets, and bombs. Soon the tsunami of soldiers would follow, and he knew they were angry, many of them lost family or friends in the chemical attacks that Vulkavic knew full well his comrades had fired, and everyone in the K-Division understood what fate awaited them, they even painted skulls on their helmets to represent their expectation of death, and the merciless death they would deliver in kind. But it didn't bother him. The KPP had shelled his house in the civil war after he joined the Legion, they had killed his wife and 2 daughters, they had overthrown the president he democratically elected, and Kalistan funded it all. Vulkavic had lost everything, sometimes when dozing off to sleep he would hear laughter, awaking sweating in the night looking frantically for little Anya and Nadia. But they were gone, and his heart had turned black, filled only with hatred for those who had funded the destruction of his life and future. But Sladek gave him a second chance, an opportunity to wring the hearts of his enemies with the same grief he felt, and that had come just weeks earlier in the form of 3000 degree hellfire on Kaliburg. He knew none of them would be spared, but he didn't care. His men all understood they would be tortured, mutilated, and executed if captured, and all had agreed to save the last grenade or bullet for themselves, take as many of the enemy as they could. He thought some may have reservations of this being their final resting place, but he came to find dozens of men with similar stories, stories of hate and vengeance. He lit a cigarette and picked up the report, and found instead of fear of death, he was surprisingly sanguine. Soon, he would be reunited with his family in heaven, soon all the pain and tears he shed every night for the future he wanted would dry up. Soon, he would go to his real home, but first he would make the Kalistanis pay one last time.