Calidrian-Argenist Front Lines (Calidrian Side)

Varg's temporary squad moves up under the covering fire. "The loyalists are fleeing! Press the momentum!"

A great war cry rises up from the Calidrians' lines as a mass of vehicles and infantry crashes forwards onto the broken Argenist forces.

The enemy is fleeing, the line has been broken through, and now is the time for the Calidrians to finally advance upon the Argenist borders.

"Let your ashes be a reminder of your Empire's downfall, scum." Was all he had to say before cleansing the enemy forces in literal hellfire and clearing the way for his squad. Another victorious battle is already dawning upon them, and he would not miss it for the world.

Let them all tremble before the might of Calidria!

They advance past burning tanks and shattered trenches, with pockets of resistance being constantly weeded out as the fighting begins to dim. The captain of Varg's temporary squad signals for them to take a break at one of the wider trench lobbies. "Right, let's take a break here. We've already done enough heavy lifting for one evening. Besides, we'd need the supplies to move up any further."

He turns to Varg. "Oh, comrade Sergeant, I've got in contact with your unit. They're headed over as we speak."

"Good." Ah, so they're still alive and fighting in the fields? Good news, indeed. Not that it surprised Varg.

Well, better prepare himself for the Captain's arrival. Nodding in thanks to the temporary squad leader he was assigned to, he stood in attention.

His temporary captain gives an impolite salute as their squad moves towards one of the designated resupply zones as Captain Czeklessia's squad walks in with most of his squadmates. The fighting started with sixteen of them, and he only counts ten amongst the squad.

"Alekzander, help fix Sergeant Varg's radio unit. Rest of you, form a perimeter for loyalist stragglers." She turns to Varg. "Good to have you back, Sergeant."

"Affirmative," Varg simply replied, whilst taking off his helmet and giving it to Alekzander to let him do his thing. They were reduced to ten units now, himself excluded. Still a force to be reckoned with, but the squad's versatility is lacking.

Hmph, troublesome. He could make up for it in terms of being the frontline combatant, but that's it...

Ah well, let the captain worry about it; she'll probably find a way to see the rest of the squad through the campaign. He'll just have to focus on his role as simply that: A soldier specialized in fear tactics and anti-infantry measures.

Alekzander takes his helmet and starts fiddling with it, pulling out a kit with tools and spare parts. "When'd you break your radio, Varg? Airstrike? If it did, you're the lucky one... it took out the other five, the Capt'n was sure you were a goner," the other Sergeant spoke.

"Sergeant Varg, some new equipment has come in for flamer infantry like you. If you want, you can pick it up at the supply station," the Captain speaks as Alekzander passes back his helmet, with a new radio receiver.

"Airstrike." He answered to Alekzander. So that's how the other five were taken out. A pity that his smokescreen plan didn't exactly work out.

"I will, Captain. Thank you." New equipment? Now that's music to his ears. Grabbing back his helmet, he moved towards the designated supply station.

The rest of his squad go with him to the supply point, where half a dozen APCs waited. One of the men--the commander of the resupply group, it seems--waves Varg over.

"Flamer! Over here! We've got the latest model flamethrowers, the T-24s; these units have a 7.62x60mm bolt-action rifle along with your usual napalm jets. It'll give you some fight for those Loyalist bastards who would rather just run from us!" The man laughs, hefting the rather bulky new weapon. It looks silly in his hands, but so would his current flamethrower.

"Your squad's being checked over by the maintenance crew. Head on over there, we'll fill up your napalm tanks."

Varg headed over to the supply commander and grabbed the latest flamethrower weapon; feeling the weight on his arms and inspecting its specs. An improvement, to be sure. It'll have to be tested in the fields, but there don't seem to be any complications thus far.

Having done that, he followed the commander's orders and went ahead, to have his tanks filled.

As Varg heads up to join with the rest of his squad, a surge from a powerful spell sweeps through him as the stars flash with unusual brightness, before vanishing as quickly as the phenomena had happened.

"...Uh, is it me or did the stars just adjust their brightness setting?" Alekzander asked quizzically.

Captain Czeklessia stays silent. Unusual for her. Even if she isn't the talkative type, usually she has some sort of input.

All of a sudden, he felt a powerful surge about him; as though affected by traces of mana in the air. Being a somewhat gifted pyromancer, he could also feel the residue heat energy left by it as well despite not being a trained mage... But it was all over an instantaneous moment later.

"The flame's hissing..." he muttered to himself, his trigger finger almost itching to let loose his weapon. He then looked at the Captain, who stayed awfully quiet throughout all this.

Was this a sign of things to come? Of Calidria's bright future? Or something else entirely...

"I felt it." He said to the rest of his squad. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like it needed to be said.

"Feel what?" Alekzander asks, curious and ignorant of what had just transpired.

However, notably, Czeklessia nods her head to Varg before addressing the squad. "Come on, comrades, we've got another field mission to accomplish before we can hit the bunks."

"A sensation," Was all that the sergeant answered, before following the Captain. Whatever had transpired, he'll need to leave it behind at the back of his mind and focus on the assignment at hand.

The squad marches off to where some other Power Armor squadrons were waiting alongside tracked troop transports. Once rendezvoused, they all board the APCs and set off towards the fighting once more.

"Right, the task is simple; there's a unit of Argenist loyalists holed up in a makeshift fortress at the village of Vlostok, and it's our job to oust them. A word of warning--the location is dangerously close to an Old District. Make sure to avoid that place at all costs; we have orders to put down whatever comes out of an Old District, whether it bears friendly insignia or not," his captain briefs on the radio.

"Yes, ma'am," A straightforward mission. Get in, deal with the Argenist stragglers and get out. The Old District gained his attention, but he decided not to question it. If orders were to take down whatever that came out of it, then he'll do so.

Varg's squad loads up into one of the transports. But as always, Alekzander quips up, asking, "Hey, I've heard a lot of shit about those Old Districts. What's up with 'em?"

"I've heard they're the remains of them old factories a few hundred years ago. Too much flux," one squadmate replies. "That reminds me, is there anyone with experience with one of those places? Could be handy to know what we're up against."

Flux? Ah, so that explains it. No wonder the Captain warned them to be extremely cautious. He may not know much about it, but he knows enough that it would be problematic if they even encountered one of them flux creatures. An entire district oozing with the stuff...

Varg simply shook his head to that, having no experience with the place.

"I do." The voice belongs to Captain Czeklessa, sitting at the far end of the APC. "...It was a few years ago. I was part of the recon branch of my unit, and we we were doing a mission in these areas when our team of six was ambushed, and forced into an Old District. ...This exact one, to be specific."

"I still remember them. Cheznekov. Kabini. Wu. Sabine. Grigori. We were separated when I happened upon Sabine... I was relieved until I noticed the purple growth on her back. That's when she jumped me... Kabini saved me, tackled her away from me at the last second, but he was shredded to pieces for it. There wasn't a torso left, I reckon.

"So I ran. I ran as fast as I could. I saw Cheznekov fire his entire mag at a charging fluxknight... it didn't even fucking pause as it sauntered up to him and...infested him. I only heard Wu and Grigori's screams and gunfire.

"Moral of the story. If you see a fluxknight... a human infested by flux... don't bother shooting. Just run. We can't hurt them with our weapons. It won't even slow them down, it'll only piss them off. And this armor we wear? Nothing but aluminum foil to just one of those damn things. The only thing you can do is outrun them because they move like cripples."

Everyone in the transport simply looks at Czeklessa, none of them entirely sure what to say after hearing her tale. Even the usually lively and quippy Alekzander is dead silent after absorbing this.

"Oh, that's right," Czeklessa adds. "Fuck orders. If there's someone uninfested that makes it out of that damn place, we save him. Even if he's a Loyalist. Nobody should have to go through that hell."

"Is that wise, ma'am?" At his captain's answer, Varg had to speak out; squinting hard at her odd behavior. Throughout his years serving under her, he'd thought of her as someone that can get the job done efficiently and down to the letter, no questions asked. To think that she actually let her emotions mixed in with with her duty was just... off-putting. Unexpected. Her past experiences be damned, she's a captain and was supposed to set an example for the rest of the squad to follow.

For Varg, who'd lived most of his life following orders and nothing else, she's not only going against the higher-ups' best wishes but is also putting her squad at risk trying to save a would-be infectee. That's why he's seeking her clarification.

... But if that is the Captain's order, then so be it. Even if his respect for her suffers for it.

Czeklessa sighs. "If anything, Varg, the Loyalist can be used for intel. And maybe even join our armies. This campaign is going to be taxing... and there's no such thing as playing dirty in war."

"... As you wish," the sergeant replied to the captain, seeing the logic in her words. Still leaves a bad aftertaste, but at least she has everything planned out.

The transport screeches to a halt suddenly, the voice of their driver filling their radios. "Ambush! Ambush! We're almost at the destination! Hang on tight!"

The vehicle swerves, overtaking the armored column. From the viewports, Varg can spy the flaming husks of the lead vehicles as the rest of the vehicles are thrown into disarray.

The ramp drops when the vehicle swerves to a stop. "Go! Move out and establish a perimeter!" Czeklessa yells as the troops nearest the doors file out.

Varg follows suit after the rest, surprised by the attack. Engaging their enemies with the element of surprise is no longer an option. Ah well, this suits the sergeant just fine.

Getting out of the vehicle, he raised his new flamethrower in anticipation of nearby enemy infantries; ready to provide support to his squad even as he moved after them.

As Varg exits the transport, a tank shell whizzes past his vision about 50 meters away, striking the next transport that was trying to move up. The vehicle grinds to a halt, its rear doors swinging open manually as the survivors stagger out.

Over a ridge, where the tank shell came from, sits three T-90A tanks, with what could be a few dozen soldiers firing from positions marked on Varg's HUD. It's too far away for Varg to use his flamethrower.