September 18, 2238

Marine Base 9-B, Vitaris, Vitaris System

"Anything new, private?" Lieutenant Lucas Wilkins asked.

"No, sir", Private Jackson answered, “Everything is just as it was for the past three hours."

Wilkins took a look over the railing of the watchtower, thinking. It had been a day since the rebels, or that's what high command called them, attacked. "Alright. If anything suspicious happens, call me."

"Yes, sir," Jackson yawned. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Is this really necessary? I mean, do you really think that the rebels are going to attack?" Wilkins saw the worried look on the young soldier's face, and hesitated.

"Yes. But it is only a safety measure," he finally said, leaving out the fact that the scouts had reported that the surrounding villages were deserted. Jenkins seemed relieved, and turned back to the forest with a slightly more cheerful look on his face. Wilkins looked at him for a little bit longer. Jenkins, like many soldiers stationed on the small outpost, has been worried ever since the rebel attacks became more frequent. Until now the outpost had stood, but they were beginning to run low on supplies and ammunition. Trying not to think of what might be coming, Wilkins sighed and climbed down the ladder, turned around and started to walk. Captain Froyd had sent out a message to High Command few hours earlier, but had been turned down. Slightly upset, he had sent all his officers on patrol duty and retreated into his office. Wilkins smirked.

"What's so funny?" Wilkins jumped and wheeled around, only to face Sergeant Sarah Honduras. Without noticing, Wilkins had walked past the women's barracks.

"Hey, Sarah," he smiled, embracing her.

"Hello, babe," Honduras said, breathing a kiss onto Wilkins' cheek. "How is the situation?"

Wilkins released her and looked into her eyes. "You know that I am not allowed to tell you."

Honduras frowned.

"It is classified," Wilkins continued, ignoring it, "but I can tell you that the soldiers’ morale has been better."

"And what do you think?” Honduras asked, "Will they attack?"

"I hope not," Wilkins replied, looking around. "Listen," he said, placing his hands on Honduras' shoulders, "If someone else hears me saying this, the both of us are in big trouble. The scouts have reported that the surrounding villages are empty, not one person was present within a radius of fifteen kilometres. You know what this means, right?"

"Yes," Honduras croaked, considerably more pale and shaking slightly. "We're as good as dead."

"Don't say that," Wilkins interrupted, trying to calm her down, "I am sure that the population has fled because of some other reason... fear, perhaps."

Honduras smiled slightly, "Yes, maybe." She kissed him on the lips and turned away.

"Don't worry," Wilkins said softly, "We will be fine."

"Yes, we will," Honduras replied, but she did not sound too convinced. "See you."

Wilkins watched her walk away and head towards the canteen. "Nice job," Wilkins swore under his breath and walked towards the outpost HQ. Unlike all the rest of the outpost, the HQ was the only "real" building on site, that is, not a tent.

Captain Froyd looked up from the map which was highlighted on the tactical screen as Wilkins entered.

"Ah, Wilkins. How is the situation?" Wilkins smiled slightly at this question, and then answered, "Could be better. All the soldiers are worried, including many of the officers, sir." "Thought so", Froyd sighed, "but I can't blame them. If they decide to attack us, we won't be able to hold them back for long." He looked out of the window for a few minutes, and then turned to Wilkins. "High command has denied us reinforcements, as you have certainly heard." Wilkins nodded.

Suddenly, Wilkins TacCom crackled. "Sir, I think you should come and look at this.” the voice of Private Jackson said. Wilkins looked at Captain Froyd, who nodded. Wilkins saluted and left. Once outside, he jogged over to Jackson's watchtower and climbed up the ladder.

Jackson was standing facing the forest with his sniper rifle ready. He handed Wilkins his binoculars and pointed at some bushes a few metres into the forest line. Wilkins focused the binoculars onto the bushes and waited. Nothing happened for a few minutes, so he gave the binoculars back to Jackson.

"Nothing there, but keep your eyes peeled, soldier. Keep me updated." Jackson nodded, a little pink in the face. Wilkins climbed back down the ladder and informed Captain Froyd. "Very well,” he replied over the TacCom, "You are off duty, Wilkins. Get yourself some sleep."

Wilkins had just turned to walk to the barracks, as a deafening explosion swept him off his feet. Deafened, disorientated and shocked, Wilkins rolled onto his back, just as debris of the watchtower began to rain down onto the outpost. Shaking and unable to think clearly, Wilkins clumsily got to his feet and stumbled towards the burning skeletal remains of the tower. Ignoring the sudden activity in the outpost, he fell onto his knees in front of it. Someone grabbed his shoulder, pulled him to his feet and yelled something at him, but he neither heard what was said nor did he recognise the face. "Man down." he said half in shock, just as another shock wave knocked him over. This time he did not even attempt to get back onto his feet, but someone pulled him up yet again. Slowly the shock seized, and Wilkins began to hear the noise of rapid gunfire and realised that it was Captain Froyd who was standing in front of him.

“Are you alright soldier?" he yelled over the noise. Wilkins only nodded, still slightly disorientated, but able to think clearly. "Good," Froyd yelled, "Then arm yourself and get to your squad!"

"Yes sir", Wilkins mumbled and stumbled off toward the armoury. To his left and right, soldiers ran past him toward the explosions, as heavily armed as possible. Reaching the armoury, he grabbed his Plasma pistol, Assault rifle and armoured vest as well as some extra ammo and a Field First Aid Kit. After equipping himself in a rush, he raced to his squad assembly point, where his squad already stood assembled.

"OK squad!" he yelled. "Time to use those skills you've got and defend the camp!"

"Wilkins!" Captain Froyd's voice said over the TacCom, "Get your ass over here and defend the gate! They are using Rocket Launchers!"

"Ten-four!" Wilkins replied. He turned to his squad: "Alright people, you heard the Captain! We have to take out those Launchers before the blow the gate apart!"

He and his squad sprinted towards the gate, and met a scene of complete destruction: the two towers next to the gate were blown to pieces; the small lane leading toward the gate was strewn with debris, bullet casings and bloody lumps which Wilkins, suppressing the urge to vomit, recognised as human remains. The tents to both sides were pretty much gone, with the belongings of the soldiers spread all over the area. Just as Wilkins' squad approached the gate, a loud explosion turned the gate into a pile of molten metal, and a tank rolled in, firing wildly into all directions.

"Get down!” Wilkins ordered, dodging a bullet by jumping behind a crate. He began to give orders to his squad: "Anderson, smoke him! Hope, move to the right and cover him! Conrad, let him taste a Commonwealth rocket!"

An explosion and screams told him that the tank had been destroyed, but instead of the tank, a large number of rebel soldiers entered through the hole in the gate.

"Jones, get your ass over here!"

"Sir, we're pinned!" Jones screamed.

"Then give them a grenade or two!" Wilkins yelled back. Jones complied, pulled the pin of his shrapnel grenade and threw it. Warning screams and a short break in the hail of bullets gave his squad the advantage.

"Fire at will!" Wilkins ordered, coming out of cover and spreading his shots all over the area. "Wilkins! Fall back to the HQ! The gates are all down and the walls are breached in multiple areas!” Froyd ordered over the TacCom.

"Squad!" Wilkins yelled, ducking back behind his cover, "Fall back to HQ! Jones and I will cover our retreat!" Firing at the enemy, his squad slowly left their positions and sprinted towards the HQ, whilst Wilkins and Jones fired alternately to provide cover to the retreating marines. Wilkins had just ducked back behind cover, as Jones screamed out. Wilkins discovered why half a second later, as an explosion ripped apart the crates behind which they were hiding from enemy bullets. Feeling shrapnel hitting his vest, Wilkins fell backwards away from the crater, which a few seconds earlier had been his cover. Scrambling to his feet, he felt his way back into the cloud of dust and smoke, trying to find Jones. He got hold of his collar and pulled him onto his shoulders. He noticed that the rest of his men were providing cover, so he moved away from the smoke as fast as he could.

Once out of the line of fire, he and his squad moved quickly through the smoking remnants of tents, destroyed vehicles, radar equipment and personal items. The surviving soldiers had erected a small barricade around the HQ, and came running towards the squad to help Jones into the small First Aid section of the HQ. Wilkins looked around the barricade, found Honduras smiling at him, and smiled back. He mouthed the words ‘Captain Froyd’ and she pointed toward the building. He entered the small building and found Froyd sitting in front of the CommSat array. Froyd saw him and waved him over. "What happened?" Wilkins asked. Froyd frowned and said "I just finished a transmission to high command requesting emergency support. We can only hope that they respond in time."

"And what is the situation, sir?"

"Let us say, the Japanese on Iwo Jima in 1945 were better off than us. The rebels blew a hole in the wall and mowed down half of the soldiers present. We currently have around fifty marines still in the fight." Froyd answered.

Wilkins' throat suddenly dried out. The outpost had about two hundred men stationed, and only fifty survived? Wilkins sat down because he suddenly felt dizzy and a wave of panic flowed through his body.

"And all we can do is wait?" he croaked.