AND THE ANZAC LEGENDS DIDN'T MENTION...

[agogemod]

AND THEN SOMEONE YELLED OUT "CONTACT!";

and the bloke behind me swore

THE SILENT WAR

The news of the day of the retreat spreads like wildfire through the Trenches. Leading up to the final date, all soldiers on the ground are instructed to limit their gunfire, to make it look like the usual traditions for warfare, which have determined much of human history up until this point: no one really goes to war in winter. Everyone is to maintain a verbal and physical presence, but the time to confuse the Turks has really become paramount. At times, whole sections are ordered to be perfectly quiet until the last possible second and then spring out before the Turks can get too close.

Which is just how it is supposed to be. In fact, for COST recruits, there's a real sense that this might just go according to plan.

Around this time, the Rear Guard signup starts. COST recruits are met with some surprise by Captain Lewis; he will blink in surprise at a group so new wanting to volunteer so readily, but he's glad and gives everyone who joins a big warm handshake.

Each day gets closer and the mood of the soldiers becomes more jubilant and tenser; the erratic sense of relief that they might be leaving what has become the graveyard of so many friends and, often times, family, combines with the frustration of not being able to do anything but wait. This leads to more than a few fights breaking out, often over nothing important. Just the edge of temporary relief.

Then, before dawn on Jan 7th, the evacuation begins in earnest. It's possible to see it from the top of some sections: a bustling populace until it trickles down to the ghost of the Trenches, where there is nothing left but the rear guard. It's a smooth, efficient evacuation.

The Rear Guard

This is a skeleton army, just enough to make it seem no one has left. Everyone is encouraged to come up with ways to make it seem like there are more men than there actually are.

The local soldiers have come up with a particularly sneaky one - a rope is wrapped around the trigger of a rifle, just loose enough not to pull it, and from the end of it hangs a bucket. Another container slowly drips water into the bucket until it fills and drops, pulling the rope around the trigger and firing the gun. Soldiers are tasked with emptying the water, refilling the cannister, or checking the gun if it looks like it has jammed.

Outside of that, if someone has a sneaky idea to keep up the ruse - even if it's lighting small fires or singing loudly in a chorus to give the notion of people still around - it's all encouraged.

THE THUNDER OF GUNS

Everything is going well. It's not even that worrying when a thick mist comes up, heavy and difficult to see through. But, for those with powers, it prickles oddly on bare skin, followed by a pressure that builds in the back of the mind. It seems to dull any extra powers or senses; magic and its ilk are still usable, but require more concentration to reach now.

In the stillness of the night, however, there is no breeze to move the fog on and it settles like oil through the trench.

It's 1am when the first shell drops. It falls to the east of the recruits' position at Lone Pine. It's a shell that comes down and splits apart the night air in an explosion of shrapnel, dirt and heat. Then a second, then a third, now starting from both sides.

All the soldiers' clamour out of the way and Captain Lewis can be heard shouting over the din: "Into the Tunnels!"

But not everyone can make it. The shells are coming steadily now and one step in the wrong direction is the difference between life and death in such a small space. It's chaos - some soldiers are killed outright. Others get buried under the debris and dirt. Others catch shrapnel that, if not fatal, is enough to throw them and make it hard to get up. But COST's mission is the same as it always is: save as many of these men's lives as possible.

There are four direct entries into the tunnels, all about four or five meters apart, and they're all interconnected within the tunnels themselves.

One by one, however, shells fall and destroy the entrances to the tunnels.

WARTIME ARCHEOLOGY

It takes another three hours for the bombardment to stop and, once the tunnel entrances collapse, it becomes very dark in there. Might be time to fish out a match and strike up a torch.

While Officers previously told soldiers to keep out of the tunnels and otherwise left them ignored, these tunnels are huge. Not like the ones in other sections of the coast; here, they seem to go far into No Man's Land. They're crudely constructed and only some sections are reenforced with heavy beams of wood. But once journeying into them, there are all sorts of things to be found. There are old gas lamps that can be used to light your way or hung on a secure nook or cranny. The stone has been worn smooth in some sections, and other parts have been carved with graffiti of the soldiers who cut them out.

Some locations go down a few steps, while others go up and small holes seem to have been dug through the roof of the tunnels.

It's definitely best to get away from the front of the tunnels, where the bombing is still going on. There are wounded to be seen to and secured from bleeding out, people to find to make sure everyone is still alive. Maybe you want to go farther into the interweaving tunnels to see what else can be recovered. Or maybe you're being stubbornly sensible and looking for a way to dig your way out again, once the bombs stop firing.

Either way, it's a long, exhausting wait in the dark as the ground shakes, showering dust and rocks over everyone.

INTO THE DAWN

The sun has risen when the firing stops - and it's time to search for a way out of here.

Stepping into the light reveals utter destruction. The concentrated bombing has done its work; everything is strewn or buried in dirt and rubble. Machine guns are overturned and parts of the Trench have collapsed; going over the top would be disastrous, given that the Turks have no idea what is happening and will pick off anyone who sticks their head up.

There also isn't...anyone else around. All that's left is this one segment of the rear guard, just 500 men and the COST soldiers. It isn't possible to discern if the other groups have been evacuated or killed at this point.

It's time to consolidate, count their losses, see who is alive and who isn't, and salvage what supplies are left after some digging clean up is done. Work out who needs to stand watch. For now, Captain Lewis' orders are to use the tunnels as a new base of operations.

SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES

They appear first as a shimmer of off-light, no more than a haze against the resettling mist. A faint shape against the grey - the long lines of a dog's face, almost Jackal-like, in a clean black uniform that gives more to the appearance of shadows - moves closer, but not too close. They could almost be a trick of the light, out of the corner of your eye. Almost intangible.

They're not moving closer, however, choosing to hang back in the rubble of the Trenches. The ANZAC soldiers don't seem to notice them at all.

Ten minutes after they're first spotted, Commander Grothia issues a priority message:

Contact. Regency soldiers. Do not engage.

If a shot does get fired that way, whether it's from Turkish or ANZAC soldiers unknowingly or from COST operatives: it's quick but, as the bullet seems to come into contact with them, the air around them shimmers blue, like it's hitting a field of light. This effect seems to be stronger when they're standing close together and, as of now, they remain unhurt.

Moving closer to them increases that feeling of mind fog on powered characters; for the unmagical, a sense of unease prickles up. It's a feeling not unlike the beginnings of the time-step, the hum of sensation that marks a transfer through time. Veteran recruits will easily recognize the buzz that dances through their bones before it stills as they move away; rookies might recall it from their initial arrival from BASE.

READ THE OOC INFOPAGE.

NAV. NETWORK LOGS OOC MEMES PLURK

Comments

something wicked

[horsepowered]

"No."

The answer was monosyllabic, the tone of it clearly unnerved. It was product of Chiron's exhaustion of moving through tunnel after tunnel, the magic-dulling mist from earlier, and the mind-fog he felt now. Every nerve Chiron had was tense, building up and up and up, as if waiting for someone to do something against orders.

His eyes remained dead ahead on the figures he could see, and there was a small murmur of thanks for how sharp his eyes remained in spite of everything.

"Paris had a different approach, and it wasn't direct confrontation."

[neutronium]

"Paris?" Hux glanced at the other man for a moment, not wanting to takes his eyes off the sight of the Regency members for very long. He seemed stressed, worn thin--but he suspected most people were, at this point, for different reasons. He knew he was, but he was internalizing it as he always did. The red around his eyes showed his exhaustion clearly though--it always did.

"Forgive me, I wasn't there for that." In other words, he would like more information, if it could be provided--he didn't even know what 'Paris' really meant--though he assumed it was a country, or a planet, or a city--something of the sort.

[horsepowered]

"Spycraft and politics," he replied. There was no elaboration for several moments, as Chiron had little desire to draw too much attention to their position. Beyond everything else, this wasn't good strategy, just walking around in the open and being menacing. If anything, it made the Regency look a little cartoonish.

"Far more underhanded, and certainly not so brazen as to show up and simply loom for the sake of it."

[neutronium]

Hux smirked a little, "Well now I truly am sorry I missed it." As spycraft and politics were some of his favorite things before he had risen in ranks. Still, he took off his hat for a moment, smoothing out his red hair. No point in trying to hide it at the moment, there wasn't any hiding from the Regency, he was quite sure.

"I think they are making a point--that they are powerful, and can do as they please, without consequence." He had often done the same. It could be a powerful intimidation tactic--to show themselves as untouchable.

[horsepowered]

Chiron ignored the smirk, pausing only to shift his weight. He could feel how tense he was, and the slight movement helped to relax his muscles a hair. "It was an interesting time, and the texture of it was of a very different sort."

There were riots, there was regicide, but there were no endless trenches and there was no endless gunfire. Between a revolution or this, Chiron knew which he'd pick again in a heartbeat.

"Pointless," Chiron murmured. "Make a move or don't waste anyone's time."

[neutronium]

Hux looked at them the Regency members for another long moment, before returning his gaze to Chiron. "That's an idea though, isn't? It is frustrating to see them out there, as they won't make a move. Could they possibly be drawing our attention away from something more important?" Distraction tactics of a base order--but he still wasn't sure how they worked, yet.

[horsepowered]

That last part was a good thought, something that Chiron had not considered in his tense state.

"That last part is worth investigating as much as possible," he said, slowly starting to pull away from his position. Besides it being a logical conclusion, it got him physically further from the Regency, and that was equally important. The less his senses were weighed down, the better.

[neutronium]

"How to investigate is going to be the difficult thing I believe; the fog is here for a purpose." Hux watched the Regency members for a few more moments before looking back at Chiron, rubbing his thumb over his index finger, an old habit of his when he was thinking.

"Searching as far from them as possible is one idea--but there has to be some logic to the investigation; if they are attempting something, time might be of the essence."

[horsepowered]

"Assuming that they sent us into the tunnels so they could have time for their...whatever it is they plan on doing, then there's the issue that it is battlefield level, and thus we must remain within the area."

Chiron breathed out. The only way around this issue would be to be airborne, and that? That was not possible.

"Skypower would be a blessing right now."

[neutronium]

"It would be." Hux let out a huff of frustration. "Skypower is usually what I specialize in, actually. But of course I wasn't allowed any of what I had prior to coming here." Just his blaster, and he wasn't even allowed to have that here, as the tech was entirely too advanced. Taking off his hat, he ran a hand through his long hair.

"If we attempted to climb any of the large hills, I doubt we would make it up alive."

[horsepowered]

"Not at all. The hills have zero cover, there's no way to be mistaken for a rock slowly moving upwards."

It isn't a joke, it's an expression of what he would prefer to be seen as if the opportunity to make that attempt arose. Chiron's lips thin into a frown, the whole situation far too overwhelming.

"Anything launched skyward would be downed instantly anyway."

It's an afterthought, one expressed with deep, deep disappointment.

[neutronium]

Hux let out a small, breathless laugh. Well, that is one way to put it--a bit colorful, but it reminded him of something Phasma would say, left over from her time on her home planet.

"It wouldn't be downed if we had shields. But again, that is technology beyond what we have here--and there is no use for wishing for things we don't have. We will simply have to do the best we can with our feet on the ground."

And Hux suspects that 'feet on the ground' is going to cost lives. But as long as it isn't his, he doesn't care.

[horsepowered]

"Beyond what my time and place has, then," he murmurs softly. Aircrafts and like hardware can shoot down enemy attacks, but to be entirely shielded? That's new, and says more of Hux's technological expectations than anything else.

Regardless, Chiron remains unhappy with the present situation, and talking endlessly will fix nothing. He straightens his back, and gives Hux a polite enough nod.

"You are doubtlessly correct. In the mean time, I believe seeking other vantage points to see if there's anything our opponents are hiding is a better use of my time."

[neutronium]

"Better use of both of our time, most likely." He doesn't take it as a slight that Chiron wants to move on; he should as well, frankly.

"I should probably move to another position to see if there is something to find, as well; is there a way we can contact one another if we find something of note?" Hux doesn't know if their devices work--he hasn't attempted them, for fear of tipping off something. As he's never been in one of these situations before, it would be a high risk--but Chiron would most likely know the answer.

[horsepowered]

From Chiron, there's a long pause and a headtilt. Hux's air of technological superiority is a sharp contrast with the question he's just asked. There's no way to hide that.

"Did...the communication equipment we've been given really not make sense to you?"

[neutronium]

"What--no." Hux shook his head, glancing about, ducking to keep this conversation more private. "I have no idea how secure the network is, and given that we are in a less technological-minded society, I don't know if it would raise alarms with the Regency, or with the people we are around. Did it in Paris--that was what I was truly asking. Of course I know how to use the equipment." Perish the thought.

[horsepowered]

"My apologies then." It had been an unclear question. Or perhaps it was the mist interfering. Regardless, Chiron rolls with it.

"It is reasonably secure, but I would be cautious given proximity. So long as you're subtle, I don't expect issues."

[neutronium]

Hux hadn't meant to be unclear--but he is coming to realize he is used to being around people who can parse his thought process instinctively. He needs to adjust.

"Thank you; that is all I needed to know." No one had been using it recently, as far as he could tell, which supported what Chiron said. "I truly appreciate the information."

Pulling back, he gave a small nod of his head. "So in the event I find anything, I'll send you a message; I hope you will do the same."

[horsepowered]

"You're welcome. Until then."

Chiron gives a final nod before starting to walk away, heading towards the left and seeming to pick up speed when the Regency is even just slightly out of range. The ebb and flow of their proximity is a pain, a genuine pain, and something that he now must do something about. Before he fades entirely.