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.

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Comments

[chariotry]

[ It's a simple question and anyone else would have appreciated the consideration, but Achilles finds it insulting. He scoffs a bit, not quite sneering as he looks over at Heine. ]

Do you think I'm the type to run when it looks like the odds aren't in my favour? [ He grins a bit, but it's more like a menacing scythe than a friendly smile. ] I have a Master now, so I won't be so easily defeated.

We'll retreat at some point, since we can't fight them. This is still a prime opportunity to learn more about the enemy.

[whitehair]

[ well, there's that, then. ]

Whatever. [ he shrugs, turning away with an unconcerned gait, hands in his pockets again. ]

Not my problem. Let's keep going, then.

[chariotry]

Get behind me. [ A suggestion, as he motions for him to follow close. ] If we get spotted at any point, I'll cover you.

But that shouldn't be a problem as long as we're mindful.

[whitehair]

[ Heine doesn't say anything, but bares his teeth in a sneer at the back of Achilles' head - what a brat.

He doesn't know how much Achilles will be affected by this fog, and privately he doesn't think much of the bravado and pride that the other displays outwardly, but he'll just let him do what he wants to do to soothe his injured feelings. He'll figure something out when it comes down to it, later.

They move closer, and even at first glance it's clear that the Regency members are ... not exactly mindful of keeping a lookout, either. They seem a little preoccupied. ]

[chariotry]

[ They'll probably be there for a while, too, just watching as they scan the area. Achilles will exchange looks with Heine every now and then, before cocking his head to signal that it's time to go.

And once they're out of earshot: ]

They're surveying the area and not much else, it seems.

[whitehair]

They're looking for something.

[ his voice is quietened down to a hush nevertheless even though they're a safe distance away. Heine glances back behind his shoulder, and crouches down lower still, pulling Achilles down. ]

It must be something important.

[chariotry]

[ He tugs at his collar, tapping at the bead of his clavicle piercing so he can bring up the BCE. ] I'll report this to Sarg.

We'll retreat for now.

You need rest, anyway.

[whitehair]

I need rest?

[ incredible. this guy is a fucking ass. ]

You're the one who looks like you'll keel over any second.

[chariotry]

[ He isn't an ass. He's looking out for you?! ]

I'll be fine once we get away from this mist. I'm a Heroic Spirit, so I only need mana to sustain myself.

You're human, though. [ He can see how tired he is by the prominent bags under his eyes. ] Conserve your strength for the battles ahead.

[whitehair]

[ yeah he is........

anyway, all of the stuff that Achilles just said is basically incoherent to Heine. Something about mana and spirits. Whatever. ]

It's fine. [ it's not like he's only been on some fucking picnics. he's used to it. ]

[chariotry]

[ Why is Achilles surrounded by stubborn kids.

Not that he isn't stubborn himself. He's at least got some sense in him, though.

With a sigh, he cocks his head, gesturing for him to follow him back to their new campgrounds, which is the tattered remains of where the trenches used to be, near the tunnels. It's cold and most of the makeshift beds have been ruined or taken up by weary soldiers trying to get some rest. The only other place where one could comfortably sleep would be the medical tent, but it's likely full.

Whether Heine follows or not is up to him, but he's going to go back into the tunnels and check on Noctis, whom he forced... to sleep. There's more pep to his step now, since they're out of the mist and he's closer to his Master. ]

Then we'll go back to work. Just let me check on my Master, first.

[whitehair]

[ he hangs back a little when they get back to the campground; it's a buzz of activities as people run about getting done what needs to be done, but mostly people are sitting or laying down to rest in small groups. It's been a long night, after all. ]

Yeah, go ahead.

[ he doesn't really understand any of the master thing... Maybe it's some kind of pervert thing? Hey, he's not gonna judge. ]

[chariotry]

[ He disappears into the tunnels after parting ways with Heine, emerging shortly after, only to be stopped by one of the captains.

They speak for a bit and Achilles seems to be nodding in agreement. When the captain leaves, he makes his way over to Heine, scratching at his head. ] Looks like we're being rotated off-duty.

So... have you eaten anything yet? [ The grub they have isn't so appetizing, but it can fill one's stomach and that's all that matters. ] I was thinking of fetching some fish.

[whitehair]

[ Heine is largely indifferent to what kind of food he eats to keep himself alive, but even then it's not a prospect he's looking forward to. Which is why he perks up a little when Achilles mentions fish. ]

Where?

[ it's not like he can snatch them up from the air... The sea, then? ]

[chariotry]

The ocean. [ Said with a bit of a laugh. ] Where else?

It'll be risky, going out that far, but it should be fine. I mean, you can heal and I'm invulnerable.

[whitehair]

[ ugh.

Heine makes a sound in his throat that's part-acknowledgement to what Achilles says, but mainly it's just a general grumble. ]

Think it's the same thing, do you?

[ whatever... Is it really worth it, to get some fish?? He's conflicted now. ]

[chariotry]

Hardly. I can't get hurt at all -- well, there are some exceptions, but I'm not about to reveal those.

[ He'll lead the way, carrying his gun and a knife. Thats about all he needs, and he expects Heine will follow suit and bring his weapons along with him as well. ]

You any good at fishing?

[whitehair]

[ he hates this guy. ]

Well, it fucking hurts.

[ it's not said in a way that means anything in particular, just a statement of fact, like it's annoying but what can you do, really? You can't stop people from shooting to kill.

Thankfully the helmet and all the dirt acquired over the last few days, and in the tunnels, have been largely helpful in masking his pale hair from being seen so much; that was basically a beacon for a headshot right there. ]

Never done it before.

[chariotry]

I'll show you, then.

[ But they're not going to be able to fish with rods or anything like that. They're going to have to do it old school. ]

And if things get a little heated, I'll protect you so you won't have to deal with getting unnecessarily mauled again. [ A reference to when they first met. He grins a bit over his shoulder. ]

We won't be careless.

[whitehair]

[ well this is going to be a disaster...

Heine is just going to give him a Very Unimpressed Look, like he isn't really convinced that Achilles will do a great job at it if it came down to it, and definitely doesn't think much of that promise. ]

Let's just get to it.

[chariotry]

[ He's in agreement, then.

He'll laugh a little, wondering if he'll have the opportunity to show off a bit later. ]

Have you heard of me? Achilles?

[whitehair]

That's the second time.

[ he's just going to push past him, heading in the direction of the sea. ]

No. Should I have?

[chariotry]

[ The first time he asked, it was never answered. He distinctly remembers this, because he's been anticipating what Heine would have to say ever since.

His answer isn't surprising, though it is disappointing. ]

That depends on whether you're from my world or not.

[ He'll kick a leg out, so he nudge the back of his ankle, where his achilles tendon should be, with the toe of his boot. ]

What's this called where you're from?

[whitehair]

[ FUCK YOU ACHILLES he nearly tripped down a fucking cliff. heine regains his balance with only a minor stumble though, and looks back over his shoulder at the other man. ]

It's called kick me again and I'll shoot you in the face, asshole.

[ please let them get to fishing without heine trying to murder him... ]

[chariotry]

[ He's laughing.. He just about keels over from how hard he's busting a gut. ]

You know, you remind me of a cat. You've got a bad attitude, but you're so cute!