Chapter
IV

The wind whipped past Taylor
as the vehicle approached the city. The encroaching buildings of stone and
steel were like a barrier that drew ever closer. He could hear the tanks sent
to spearhead the assault launching salvos into the front lines as panic slowly
creeped up in Taylor’s spine. He could not see where they were going and for
all he knew they would run into one of the buildings. If that happened the
collision would likely kill him instantly or worse, painfully slowly. In the
blink of an eye buildings were rushing past him now within dangerous proximity
leaving him praying that the driver was competent.

As far as he could guess the
truck made it several blocks into the city before coming to a grinding halt.
The momentum shift from the stop threw him backwards off the bumper landing on
his back where he could see a pair of legs standing in front of the truck.
Shouts of panic from inside reached his ears as the lightly plated double doors
on the back of the truck flew open. Unfortunately for the marines who rode
inside the transport, it was too late. Following the sound of shattering glass,
a torrent of flames ripped through the interior of the truck as well as
brushing along the exterior threatening to consume Taylor’s feet. Luckily, he
had scrambled back in an effort to not get trampled by the once deploying
marines, now he sat back and watched them all burn to death as some of them
collapsed out of the truck in flaming heaps. Knowing this to be the work of a
combat mage, Taylor would take no chances in his situation. Grabbing the
machine gun that lay lazily on top of him, he aimed underneath the burning
truck and let loose a steady burst of gunfire. The bullets tore apart the mages
shins as the young man collapsed in front of the truck, falling in perfect view
of Taylor’s sights. There was a split second decision to be made once he saw
that the mage was no older than he was. It was rather impressive the amount of
control the young man had over his powers and Taylor silently begged for the
mage to surrender, to live and grow in both age and wisdom however, the mage
forfeit that idea as flames began to envelope the mage’s outstretched hand. A
quick burst cut the life from the young man as bullets ripped through his
unarmored body. Taylor could not help but feel shame for his latest victim. Not
because he was forced to kill him, but because it was a waste of young life.
With a shake of his head he got to his feet and stared into the burning
wreckage. He noted that not a single building nor blade of desert grass in the
surrounding area was on fire or even singed. It amazed him how thorough mages
could be when it came to destruction and made him thankful he was lucky enough
to get knocked off the truck otherwise he would have been a human marshmallow.

It dawned on him now that he
had no idea where he was. He had been so worried about getting across to the
city that he had never asked the driver where they were inserting. His hand
instinctively reached behind to grab his data slate only to find his fingers
touching the fabric of its holster. He hung his head low in disappoint it to
find it missing, “shit. Bet it fell out during the attack at base.” He needed
to get to high ground and discern his location, thankfully he had a vague idea
of the city from looking over the map during his briefing. Hearing the
Federation tanks so clearly meant that he was not very deep into enemy
territory.

“War-Wolf 42 to War-Wolf 42
actual.” His transponder burst in his ear which made him jump. Looked and found
a building that had outer stair that led to the roof and made his way that
direction before responding.

“This is War-Wolf 42, I read
you.”

“Briggs, I hope you are near
your targets.”

“How the hell do you not
know where you are?”

“Not like I had time to stop
and ask. The unit I hitched a ride with got torched by a mage, so now I’m making
my way up a building to figure out where the targets are,” Taylor said with a
hint of annoyance. He truly hated Arden with every fiber of his being. He was
the epitome of the Federation’s snobbish upper class. No doubt he ever worked
at gaining his title and most likely joined the Marines as a sergeant due to
what ever pedigree he had.

“Well hurry it up Briggs. We
lost War-Wolf 25. Apparently they have a mech-suit guarding the munitions depot
so don't get your ass torn apart by it like 25 did.” Taylor could only shake
his head at that. The sergeant had absolutely no care that a squad of
Federation Terrans just died. Of course Taylor had no idea who was in War-Wolf
25, but he at least still respected the lives that were lost.

He shook the thoughts from
his mind. He could spend days going over the lack of respect and care of the
upper brass. He looked to his right as he crouched low and looked towards the
south. Easily he could see the giant radar dish on top of a three story
building merely two blocks away. Which meant the munitions depot was
significantly farther roughly five blocks away. He was supposed to hit the
depot first per his briefing but it did not make sense for him to not take out
communications first. Strategically, communications were more important than
munitions to a degree; you can have all the ammo in the world but if you can
not coordinate it, then it does not do you much good.

Taylor made his was down the
building and finding an alleyway that led south towards his target. He could
have easily jumped the rooftops but he had no idea what the sniper situation
was like within the city. It was a sad sight to see garbage riddling the
alleyways between buildings. Sure dirty alleys were common in major cities
however, the things he noticed spoke of the poor state the city was in. Between
dirty, damaged clothes, broken children’s toys, and even wrecked furniture littering
the paths he came across between buildings. Some areas were so dense with
garbage that it nearly seemed strategically placed. It made Taylor curious
whether the military’s presence contributed to the poverty or if it had always
been so bad. Taylor remembered the lower wards of Denver. The gov-subs were
horridly maintained, filled with decaying buildings and dirty streets. There
were no real businesses other than trade shops run by ordinary folks or Eskarii
trying to survive. Bartering was the way of surviving in the gov-subs if one
did not have the heart or skill for stealing. He was lucky his family was not
in the lower wards despite being on the outskirts. The Briggs family were
considered lower class despite living in a better area since their monetary
value was on the low end of middle class. The only thing that kept themselves
afloat and able to afford minor luxuries was the fact that they owned a
relatively prominent machine shop. His parents afforded their modest house,
were able to procure him his own truck and they ate rather well. Paying for his
high school education stretched them thin especially since they had bought him
his own lift for the shop. College he would have had to save up for himself
which he was okay with. It saddened him that their efforts to give him his own
independence went to waste temporarily while he served in the military though
he sent back all his pay to make up the difference. By the end of his
requirement he should have paid off the construction for the additional bay and
the extra lift by the time he went home. He was proud and excited for that.

It was hard living the
military life as a civilian. When he was not worrying about Morrigan, he spent
his time day dreaming of devised plans for the future. How he would work his
way through college to become an engineer and land a job that would allow his
parents to retire and enjoy life for a change. He would also help Morrigan
through her own life, supporting what ever decision she made for a career and
even help pay for it. He hoped she would accept the idea of getting her own bay
at the shop. He found that she thought less of the Federation and all of its
injustices when she had something constructive to distract her.

He did not blame her for
having such a hatred for the Federation. To be fair, he was no patriot, he was
also no anarchist either. Truth of the matter was Taylor did not care one way or
the other. He tried to see the good in everyone but left room for
disappointment. As long as the Federation did nothing to cause issue with him
and his, he could care less about the Federation.

Taylor weaved his way
between buildings keeping off any of the main thoroughfares. Being on his own
made it significantly more dangerous for him to get into a fire fight. Taylor
crouched low next to a discarded dishwasher in the alley when he heard the
fevered shouts for the front line. A few seconds later two squad’s worth of CoU
soldiers came rushing down the adjacent path. He tuned in to the general
communications and listened to hear that the Federation was making a deeper
push into the territory which explained why the enemy seemed so frantic to get
to the frontline. The armored division began bulldozing through buildings and
slowly making their way to support the ground troops.

Once the soldiers passed, he
moved up to the corner and watched them jog towards the frontline. His
responsibility as a Federation marine would mean he should turn his weapon on
their backs and cut down every soldier. However, Taylor could not justify
killing so needlessly. Between his goal and his need for stealth, it was not
worth drawing attention to himself. Besides, he hoped deep down that more of
those lives would survive without his interference.

Seeing that the alleyways
were clear, Taylor continued on past the next few buildings. The giant
communications dish loomed over head like a massive bird of prey. Taylor
figured his best bet at getting to the target was to get on a roof and throwing
the transmitter. It was the best plan he had after all, since he was only
allowed two minutes to escape the blast radius, not being in the building
itself seemed like a pretty good idea. He had yet to see what kind of
devastation these Shatter rounds could bring, though he could hear the
thunderous trio of explosions and tremors in the ground occasionally as the
other squads marked their targets, he had to guess they had a fairly large
radius.

Taylor found the building he
wanted to scale except this building had no exterior way of getting to the
roof. He did find an access door in the alley though. He gave a gentle knock on
the door with his knuckles, the door was made of steel but thankfully was hollow
core. The other notable thing about it was that it had no exterior handle.
Taylor pulled out a small breaching device and set it roughly where the lock
should be. The small discus stuck to the door magnetically. Pushing the two
smaller buttons on the device to prime it and thumbed the single large button
on it to set the ten second timer. Taylor quickly backed up and looked away,
closing his eyes tightly. At the ten second mark there was a gentle hiss before
a blinding light threatened to pierce through his eyelids. Despite how small
the device was, which was about the size of an orange, it let off an unholy
amount of heat for the two seconds it was active before Taylor heard it fall to
the ground and the smell of molten metal assaulted his nostrils.

Taylor looked at the molten
hole about the size of his fist in the door that was rapidly cooling. He always
wondered how the devices worked however, their design was highly classified.
Regardless, once the metal on the door cooled enough he used the barrel of his
machine gun to pry the door open softly. Taylor checked the hall through the
doorway and found it empty. He gave a small thanks to what ever gods existed
and slowly made his way into the building, keeping his ears open for any sounds
of movement.

The silence in the building
was eerie to him. He was thankful that the CoU evacuated citizens from their
areas of operations in regions of conflict, it meant no civilians were in their
homes as he made his way up each flight of stairs in the apartment building but
it was surprising that the CoU had not posted defenses in the building since it
was so close to the communication center. Up the four stories of stairs, Taylor
found a door at the top that led to the roof. It was another small blessing
since that meant he did not have to blow a hole into the ceiling and give away
his position. To a greater surprise, as Taylor grabbed of the knob of the door,
he found that it spun freely, fully unlocked. He supposed the main entrance to
the building was constantly watched and they did not suspect someone to
stealthily break into the building, or make it this far into the city.

Cracking the door, Taylor
kept the barrel of his machine gun aimed ahead of him while he stepped out in a
crouch. He was not certain about how they surveyed the surrounding area and did
not want to take any chances. The exit of the stair way faced the same
direction as the access door did, which gave Taylor more options for movement
and also allowed him to take a peek at his target. The communications center
was a fairly large building about three stories tall, with a massive satellite
dish on top of it. Each level had surrounding windows for ease of visibility as
well as three mobile anti aircraft tanks stationed along the three faces he
could see. There was no doubt that there were more behind the building so he
had to give the lieutenant credit when he stated that they had concentrated
anti-air around key buildings. The trickiness to his mission was that the
surrounding area around the building was the widest he had seen thus far. If he
was to complete his mission, he would need to throw the transmitter over 100
feet. There was also the issue of the 12 CoU soldiers he saw patrolling and
guarding the front of the building. If someone happened to spot him, his day
would get significantly harder.

Taking the transmitter from
his pack, Taylor stood four feet from the edge of the roof. There was very
little wind, so his calculation from his position was mainly distance and
elevation. He could feel his nerves getting to him as he set his machine gun
off to the side, he had to make sure his throw was as precise as possible, if
he failed to miss his mark and for any reason the artillery rounds missed, he
was shit out of luck and would probably get killed in the enemy pursuit. Taylor
twisted the capsule and extended it into its ready position, staring at the
device in his hand as he heard the gentle soft squelch of the adhesive
releasing on the dual rings. There was something odd though, he could not find
any button or switch that activated the transmitter other than the dual sided
twist tops that extended the capsule. Taylor’s eyes widened in panic, it was
already activated. Wasting no more time, he wound his arm back, shifted forward
towards the edge of the roof and chucked the device in an upward arc.

Taylor tried to trace its
flight except his exposure drew the unwanted attention of assault rifles that
began peppering the knee high wall along the edge of the building he was on.
Taylor dove backwards as he scrambled to get away. The issue was the low
whistling sound the resonated from over head. That is when Taylor realized he
had no chance of escaping and tucked himself into a ball as the first Shatter
round tore through the satellite dish and building. There was a concussive
explosion that resonated through his bones and shook the building he was on.
What struck Taylor was not the payload of the Shatter round, but the muffled
screams that followed the first artillery shell.

Taylor heard the screams of
dying men before, except this was not just that familiar sound. It was the
sound of screaming women and children that drown out the sound he was used to.
The second impact tore through a supporting section of the building, destroying
the integrity as the screams of those inside were enveloped by the sound of a
collapsing building. The third was a simple devastating explosion that sent
debris in every direction and reverberated a massive radius that made Taylor
question his mortality on top of the apartment building as the walls shook
violently and every window in the city block shattered.

After a moment of waiting to
see if fate would claim his life, the deafening echo fell on him. It was not
the ringing from an explosion but the screams of children he heard in the
recess of his mind. Taylor dragged himself to the edge and lifted himself up to
see the horror he had caused. The communications center was demolished and the
bodies of civilians and soldiers alike were scattered, bodies in pieces or
crushed by debris. A tear streaked down his cheek as he saw the mangled, tiny
arm of a child that could not be older than eight was sticking out from
underneath some of the rubble. His stomach tried to heave but nothing would
come up as he took in the scene with a mix of horror and anger. Questions
filled his mind as to why civilians were in the building as well as whether or
not his superiors knew they were in the area. If he had known, he would have
risked his life to take out the soldiers, infiltrate the building and evacuate
the civilians. If only he had known.

“Good work Briggs. Head to
objective one.” The radio static crackled in Taylor’s ear. He could not respond
with words, clicking his transponder twice in confirmation as he let out a
harrowed breath. He took one last look at the carnage he created before shoving
the remorse deep down inside him. He could not allow himself to shut down;
soldiers would swarm the area soon and he had to stay alive for her.
Reinforcing his spirit, Taylor collected his machine gun and started making his
way towards the munitions depot from the rooftops. From down the road Taylor
could see CoU soldiers converge on the area like a hive of angry hornets and
all he could feel was the pain of guilt in his chest.

It did not take him long to
maneuver through the city via rooftop. Aside from the main roads, which Taylor
avoided, the city was so jam packed with buildings that the largest gap he had
to leap was roughly five feet. Naturally he came across skirmishes between CoU
and Federation forces however, with the dreadful revelation from his first
objective, he refused to assist his fellow marines no matter how good of a
vantage point he had. They could all rot for all he cared.

Taylor spent the entirety of
his journey across the city focusing on what he needed to do. His thoughts were
not of his current mission, but how to get home. He wanted nothing more than to
get away from the Federation and back to his old life; his parents, his job and
most of all the love of his life.