DING!
All the squad leaders' DIs notified them of an incoming message. It was labeled high priority, and was sent directly from base commander Riddell's desk. Some trembled as they opened it.
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OBJECTIVE UPDATE:
Primary Objective: Survive Hell Week.
The previous objective, Neutralize Primary Enemy Position, is remanded to a secondary objective, and no longer mandatory for operational success.
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The squad leaders breathed a sigh of relief. They felt they could face Hell Week a little easier, without having the pressure of launching any offensives. But Eva shook her head in disagreement.
"That's a lot of nuts!" -Chengli
After the infiltration was completed, both wings went back to the encampment so that Jackal could report on his wing's findings. He presented the data to the rest of the squad leaders unedited and unfiltered. He sent them all the raw information, from the recorded feed to their sensor readouts to their speculations. At the same time, he projected his raw feed on one of the walls to help them visualize what they were reviewing over their DIs. Eva watched their faces as they went through the intel. Their facial expressions grew from surprised to alarmed to afraid to depressed. Of course they would. Anyone who had seen the total number of enemy mecha would have done the exact same. The room sat in silence for some time. They all needed to process the information in front of them. No-one knew where to begin.
Squadrons Nightraven and Thunderbird raced towards the enemy base, determined to cause as much damage as they possibly could. If Grizz was going to sacrifice himself and his squadron, then they were going to use the time wisely. Sunflower popped up on their comms display. "Just please get Grizz' squadron out of there," she pleaded. Eva grimaced, but agreed. Grizz was an idiot through and through. She would have happily left him and his squadron to their demise. But Sunflower had been an incredible friend to her, and she wasn't just going to throw that away out of spite. Without a doubt, if she had ignored Sunflower, it would have been devastating for their friendship. "We'll save who we can, don't worry."
When they arrived back at the encampment, the wounded were immediately taken into the field hospital. It was a small heavily reinforced building next to the encampment, where experienced medical staffers from the training yard had posted up. A team of doctors, nurses, and orderlies quickly got into action as they took in nearly a couple dozen wounded. Many of whom had suffered concussions and contusions, while some were struck with broken bones and fractured skulls. All of them were traumatized, and the psychologists did their best to ease their minds. They couldn't shake the fear the armored mecha had caused when they tore them apart. They felt helpless against a strength of that magnitude, and their confidence crumbled under such a heavy weight. Most eventually rec
The unit led by Eva geared up quickly and blasted away from the encampment as fast as they could. The main training yard was under attack and needed them to help defend it. Their loadouts were far different from what they had when their first arrived. Gone were the regular rifles and swords. Instead, half of the infantry wings had equipped belt-fed machine guns and wore packs filled with ammunition. The other half went with shields and heavy maces. Nightraven had equipped themselves with the B-ranked electrolances and towershields, as well as the shoulder-mounted beamcannons. They were brimming with raw firepower. All of Gryphon equipped themselves with sniper rifles and sidearms. It was best if they kept out of the front lines anyway - their purpose was too important to throw away in any given skirmish.
Eva sighed as she and her unit dashed eastwards towards the front line. Her mind was filled with thoughts about the synthetic cadets, and of terrorism itself. People using violent means against each other wasn't anything new. Homicide. War. Genocide. Ethnic Cleansing. Terrorism. In her old life, terrorism had been around for hundreds of years, if not thousands. The term itself appeared during the French Revolution, when François-Noël Babeuf first coined it. He used it as a derogatory term against the anti-royalist rebels (spoiler alert: they won). It existed in some form before then, and certainly existed for centuries after. In fact, although it evolved over the years, the core of it always remained - terrorists were people who performed politically-charged violence against others.
Squadron Nightraven had done much the same to the other enemy drones around them, and shredded most of them to pieces without much of a fight. The other shield wings also made quick work of their enemies, although they didn't tear through them like Nightraven did. They used more brutal methods. Mantis' wing slammed shield-first into the drones and knocked them off-balance even further. Some were hit so hard that they were thrown back down to the ground. The cadets then pounded them relentlessly with their maces. This cracked their armor and warped their structure to a great degree. Some even made sure to knock the rifles out of their hands, before they crushed their arms into useless ribbons of metal. They didn't have the efficiency or precision that squadron Nightra
The dead and wounded were extracted from their mecha and immediately rushed off to the hospital back towards headquarters. The dead far outnumbered the wounded, but even the "lucky" few survivors were on the brink of death themselves. Some were missing portions of their torso, or even their entire lower half! Blood gushed from their open wounds as they screamed in agony. Terrible pain coursed through their bodies. The doctors and nurses scrambled to save the lives of their cadets. Everyone was given incredible amounts of painkillers to dull their senses as they were stitched back together. But they barely worked, and their screaming had not abated. Despite the doctors' best efforts, almost all of their patients had died. Their trauma was too great, physically and mentally. The pain and suffering that they went th
The two siblings sat in their mecha and were enraptured by the man on their comms displays. The man was older and looked to be in his 60s. He had short cropped grey hair, intense blue eyes, and a kind, fatherly smile. "Thank you both for the presents," he said. "I'll make sure to put them to good use." "I'm glad you approve, father," said the female. His face beamed at her, which filled her with warmth. But his expression turned solemn after a few moments. His voice was patient and calm, but carried a hint of worry in his tone. "Are… you both sure you wish to stay there? You're free to set the drones loose and come back home." His words tore through their hearts, and they couldn't help but wrench their faces slightly.