What's new
Frozen In Carbonite

Welcome to FiC! Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

GATE: and so the Iron Pact Fought

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
Well, in other news, I've been working on the next part of the chapter and trying to prototype a post via the PHO Interlude Generator.

One has Pina's thoughts and attempts to reconcile the matter at hand, and the other is basically a 'look' into the non-military, non-political side of things (i.e. the 'commoner' perspective)... with a surprising guest.
;)
;)

So, depending on how things go, it would be interesting...
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
So, a snippet for you guys, one that focuses on our favorite sane woman who is breaking herself under insane conditions...
_____________
Italica, Italica Province – 200km from Alnus Province; October 3rd, 6729

Piña was right to move to Italica, as several important keystones of the Empire’s transportation network were focused on several cities in the region, and the message she received from a dragon messenger was troubling: Antioch Nova had fallen and Legate Hostus Murrius Niraemius had been killed without seeing his killer without the usual carnage that ensued. Pina knew Niraemius, and quite well as he was one of the legates that would tutor her in the ways of war when he wasn’t off on campaign.

… and now the Empire lost one of its most prominent legates alongside one of its key junctions.

Then there were the reports of increased banditry that have been slowly getting closer and closer to Italica itself. The current lady -and her immediate regent- of Italica had already started working on setting up for a siege.

Then there were the reports of a Great Fire Dragon feeding across the countryside, a problem that is incredibly problematic at the best of times, let alone being on top of a rising banditry problem and an invasion from the Men in Green!

“My lady,” Hamilton stated as she came into the war room of the keep, “We’ve just gotten more reports from all around the province.” Hamilton simply handed Piña more reports. “It actually looks good for once. From what I’ve read, the Men in Green are slowing down…”

“… but that is only because they’re allowing their engineers to rework the highways and build their own infrastructure,” Piña frowned, “Once they start up again, they’ll likely be fully supplied again. That would be the problem. Given how effective their weapons are, they’ll probably be doing that work at such a speed that we might be just standing still.” Hamilton sighed in disbelief, understanding Piña’s assumptions and worries. “Why does this have to be so hard…”

“Piña,” Hamilton replied, shaking Piña out of her stress-induced daze, “You’re pushing yourself too hard, the Knights can’t function if their leader is a tattered mess due to all the stress that she’s putting herself under.” Piña simply smiled at Hamilton, thanking Emoly for her level headedness and willingness to take action when Piña is basically destroying herself. “Just take the rest of the day off and I’ll make sure we’ve got everything ready for tomorrow. If something were to happen now, we’ll be practically leaderless.”

“… I…” Piña started before rethinking about what she was about to say, “… I’m screwing everyone here over if I continue to act like this.” Hamilton sighed in relief, as Piña wasn’t going to be stubborn as a mule again. “The Order and Italica need me to be as fit as possible for the days ahead… and I can’t do that running myself to death’s door.” Hamilton smiled as two of the praetorian guard escorted her to her temporary quarters.

“Now, let’s get this over with,” Hamilton muttered to herself as she took a look at the reports and the map before her…
______________________________________________
One of the things I hate about the original fic is how much of Pina's potential is wasted... but then again it shouldn't be surprising as it is written by someone with an immense nationalist streak (and, from what I experienced, the stronger the nationalist streak, the worse potential is wasted)...
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
Pina needs a vacation.All that stress cant be good for her. :p
Given that she is not only dealing with Roman politics but also Medieval politics (aka "The 'fun' Kind")... she isn't going to get a break anytime soon...
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
First, the next snippet is going to be something of a 'slice of life' in the POV of an elven lady of a multi-species town looking at the 'Men in Green' from the Iron Pact from the 'other side', which would include some problems that arise from having the war goes on...

... and I'm stealing a few creatures from the videogame series Majesty just to make things interesting. ;)

Second, I've gotten the itch to play Majesty again... so... yeah...
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
Ok, status update. First things first, I had to rewrite the current section twice already because I didn't like how it flowed and read (first one was another Imperial viewpoint, the second was a villager's viewpoint on the Iron Pact!Americans that became the garrison of the village and had a historian try to describe the air battles of the First World War and the Red Baron to pre-industrial fantasy citizens, right now it is taking place in the rapidly growing town of Alnus Town). Two, I'm fighting this stupid head cold thing and I'm hating it. Third, I might be going crazy because the world just kept getting crazier. Fourth, I might take a short break to work on my XCOM/MLP:FiM or another project more just to get out of the funk I've been having.
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
Here is part of a snippet that leads to the mind of someone who is part of the Empire but is 'looking in' as it were:

)___________________________________(
Bert, Tetsui, and Hans International Bar and Grill – Alnus Town; a few minutes later

The immense floor that was the bar and grill was packed with patrons and the air was filled with the smells of barbecue, alcohol, and food. It was… peculiar… to Itami that the establishment fit so well into the medieval style structure, and to see it so lively was a bit surprising.

“Ah, Kallus!” one the waiters exclaimed as the small group, “I see you’ve been assigned to Alnus town!” That was when Kallus’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Samantha,” Kallus exclaimed as he jogged towards the waiter and hugged her, “how did you get authorization to get to Falmart?” The waitress -Samantha, Itami reminded himself- returned the favor and hugged Kallus back.

“Eh, you know, the usual,” Samantha answered with a smile, “being a former Hauptmann does have its perks. With the company following the soldiers to Falmart, they chose me to help get things running.” Samantha quickly escorted us to a table, handing out the paper-thin tablets that served as menus. “Anything to drink before you make your order?”

Itami took a quick look at the drink section of the menu and was intrigued at the wide assortment of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages… and then sighted that a statement that the establishment also had an entertainment center. Itami quickly filed it in the back of his brain as he continued to look at the beverages…

_________________

Working at a Men in Green establishment was far different than what I was used to. Most non-humans in the empire tended to be relegated to work that is barely above slave work, but the Men in Green -from either Gate- are vastly different in that regard. If you have the talent and experience, you could get the job.

Being a wood elf, being a head chief was something that I never expected to become. Sure, I had to do some training in order to get the job, but once I got a handle on how the Men in Green handle things, I thrived. Right now, I’m on my lunch break and had decided to go into what the Men in Green termed ‘the game room’.

What I saw there was… well… beyond words.

The entire room was filled with various machines designed to provide entertainment to a wide variety of patrons. The games inside weren’t any sort of gambling -which was rather common in Imperial encampments- or at least what I was used to. Various ‘TVs’ and ‘entertainment consoles’ lined the far wall while the other was lined with various games that I never saw before. The center was filled with various table games that I’ve never seen before, some of which had ethereal images instead of figures.

It was a lot to take in, I had to admit.

I simply wandered around, trying to pick what I would try first. That was when I heard something unusual, leading me to one of the ‘entertainment consoles’. A bunch of Men in Green from Alnus Hill were playing a game from Remus Hill, and are completely entranced by it.

Welcome to Cologne kamaraden, for you are about to begin the greatest moment of your life. The Jackabins have lost hundreds of tanks and planes while Smith’s brutalized hordes are climbing over mountains of their own dead bodies. The Kaiser, our glorious fatherland, have given us the task to ensure that the enemy doesn’t reach the Rhine and defend the city of Cologne!”

I heard explosions in the background as images of fountains of water rose, the sounds of machines and weapons I could never imagine simply drowned the scene.

Forward towards the unrelenting battle kamaraden! For Cologne, for the Fatherland, not one step back!

The scene was horrifying to my eyes, an entire city -bigger than Saldera itself- burning. Numerous boats and barges floated across the massive river, escorted by armed boats armed with weapons that I couldn’t recognize. One of the barges was ravaged by an explosion while several of the escorts were pummeled by what looked like outright magic.

Do not count days, do not count kilometers, count only the number of revachists you have killed! Kill the revachists, this is your mother’s prayer! Kill the Jackabin, this is the cry of your German earth! Never let up kamaraden! Kill! Death to the revachist invader!”

That was when I heard numerous replies outright repeating the last sentence. It was simply chilling to my ears. That was when one of the waiters -who was also from the Gate on Remus Hill- saw me simply mesmerized by the scene playing in front of me.

)______________________________________________________________(
So, yeah, I partially ripped of Call of Duty: Finest Hour for that, but that has always been an epic introduction to Stalingrad by many... and a similar one is used in the Iron Pact universe. Please tell me where I should improve right now because I'm running myself up the wall trying to get this down...
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
It's good. I honestly can't see how you can improve on it.
Better to ask and not get pummeled into the ground now than not and get pummeled into the ground... at least in my experience.
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
Just letting you guys know, my dad's dog has recently passed away (had to be put down) and I'm still trying to get used to life without him. This has, predictably, delayed my latest snippet immensely, especially with the scene and trying to ensure I give it justice (not-so-spoilers, it's the Siege of Cologne during the Great War of Resistance aka essentially Stalingrad, WW1 style).

I hope you guys can understand this.
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
Ok, is it just me, or did someone find reality's developer's console and made reality go crazy? I was getting some (slow) headway on getting this next part done when the riots started! Also, it is starting to become apparent that someone has been going into my chaotic brain and nicking ideas just to make reality look insane.

I am not happy. It does not make my muse easier to direct. It delays everything.

The snippet is shaping up to be something, odd, for me. Trying to make it not a gory mess while trying to keep it authentically Stalingrad-esque is... hard... to say the least. [sarcasm] Maybe I should start a Patreon and sell myself so I can get things done or something close to it. [/sarcasm] Still, one of the speeches that I've got is heavily influenced by the speeches made by General Sturnn and Castor of the Imperial Guard (seriously, the Imperial Guard has a lot of material for hold the line speeches)...
 

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
Ok, here is what I have so far for the Psi-memory section:

_____________________________________________

Fort Portal, Remus Hill; 22:00 Hours


The ‘Iron Pact’ is something that I’m still trying to understand, their reasons of existence, their politics, their goals…

… and understand the strangeness that is ‘Hauptmann’ Neumann.

This one man has kept defying what I know as logic. This man is different than anything I’ve ever encountered. Then there is this aura around him, making him even more of an enigma. Everyone in the castra has been incredibly tight lipped about Hauptmann Neumann. My -and the warrior bunnies that managed to smuggle themselves here- investigations kept hitting stone walls, a lot of this man’s career is locked behind the term ‘classified’. What little that the warrior bunnies and I could dig up show that he is an incredibly powerful shaman. Almost stupidly so. He is also an incredibly capable warrior, and either of these facts does not jive with his calm, simple, introverted demeanor. There is just something off about him. After we returned from ‘Berlin’, Rory had told me her fears. Few things got her afraid of someone, and this man is one of the few that did.

That was when I felt that reality got… bent… before I blacked out.

When my vision returned to me, I was in a small rowboat of some kind. The people around me were clad in uniforms that are far older than the ones I have seen, each one of them had grim looks on their faces. The rowers moved with almost mechanical precision.

I looked around and saw numerous other boats and barges crossing a great river. Most of which had more soldiers and some of them had older versions of what the ‘Iron Pact’ and the ‘JSDF’ are using studding them. That was when I saw the bodies floating in the water alongside wreckage.

What the fuck have I been dragged into?

“Kamaraden, I will not mince words with you, many of you will die,” the man in the front -apparently an officer- stated plainly, “your deaths will not be glorious, your deaths will not be remembered in history, you will die in the ruins of the city of Cologne. You will be only remembered as a simple number, one among many. While that is going to be our fate, I will commend you for volunteering to help our beleaguered kamaraden in the city proper. While Command has deemed that falling to the river is the only safe option available to us, we must ensure that our retreat is organized and covered. Given the likeliness of being killed, command will only accept volunteers that know the full gravity of their choice. Our orders are to hold the line as much as possible to ensure that we deny the enemy supplies and weapons while ensuring our wounded are extracted to the safety of the defenses on the other bank.”

The soldiers simply nod in acceptance, like if they knew full well what they were getting into.

The officer simply looked towards the shore, deep in thought. That was when I saw the other shore, littered with bodies and equipment. Men and women in a vastly different uniform with some sort of vest and a red cross on it scurried across the various groups, trying to ensure as many people survive as possible. There were even children trying their hardest to keep the medical supplies flowing. To be forced to use children in such roles, the manpower shortage must be catastrophic.

“Kamaraden, know this,” the officer began, “while it warms my old heart, my soul, to see you volunteer despite cred or ideology, we are going to die. I am sending you where you will die. I am spending your lives and mine to ensure that our kamaraden will live. We will die, we will not be remembered as people, only as numbers. Yet, history will remember our actions today, for better or for worse. We will hold the line for as long as we can and make the enemy pay for every meter of land they take. That is what is expected of us…”

That was when the boat came into a dock.

“Boatmen prepare for non-critical casualties,” the officer said, “you are no longer to haul soldiers to the frontline, you are to move as many casualties that can walk to safety. Is that clear?” The rowers simply nodded and prepared to help people onto the boat. The soldiers disembarked and I, unable to control myself, followed.

The line of waiting soldiers slowly moved towards the boat, moving only as fast as their child caretakers would let them. Each one suffering many wounds, barely able to walk towards the docks on their own, only to be sent to the other side of the river to safety. I slowly walked with the other able soldiers towards our battlefield. Along the way I saw how much damage this battle had wrought. Bodies still laid in the streets, their entrails littering the rubble like a sick sort of paint, buildings all but destroyed or simply annihilated to the point of being motes of dust. I have seen my fair share of horrific battlefields, but this is on a whole new level…

… and I was being force-marched to the front of it all.

The march was slow but brisk and it kept showing the horrific scars of this battlefield. That was when at the corner of my eye I noticed something out of place, something that didn’t belong, but I ignored it as neared my forced destination. The officer quickly ordered us about, taking up positions along a badly done trench line between the various houses of the intersection. That was when I heard a battle cry that I never heard of in my life and men with turbans on their heads charging like madmen towards our position. My body fired my weapon, sending death downrange like a demented automatic high-powered crossbow. The men had chosen their path well, and it quickly devolved into brutal hand to hand combat.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw that the officer had taken out a stubby shovel, using it as an impromptu sword. I saw another soldier stab one of the madmen with the knife at the end of his weapon before flipping it around and using it as a club. Soon I heard explosions from all directions and sometimes I saw the results. This combat went on for what felt like hours when it only took minutes… and that was when everything… stopped.

“Well, well, well, looks like Slick lost control a second time,” a mysterious voice -attached to a fairly lanky-armed man of middling height- in the most unusual accent said, “although, I wouldn’t blame him given the shit we’ve been through.” I soon discovered that I could move by my own accord again, and I took this advantage to gain an explanation.

“What in Hardy’s name is going on here!?!” I exclaimed, “Why am I forced to go through this?” The man simply shook his head.

“So, this is the first time through a psi-memory eh?” the man answered, “Oh, where are my manners, the name’s Tony Delvecchio and right now I’m getting you out of here.” I frowned at that last statement. Why is he so forceful of getting me out of this horror now? “That is if you want to become part of the scenery…” Wait… become part of

… ok, that has set all sorts of red flags in my brain. If there is a chance that I could become part of this ‘psi-memory’, then I need to get out of here…
_____________________________________________
One thing that I am not happy about is that it isn't complete and I think it is too quick and too sparse on the details. Still, it is better to post it now and ask for forgiveness than keep banging my head against it...
 
Last edited:

Aaron Fox

SB's Minor Junker Descendant and Hunter of Nazis
Author
Ok, I've got three main ideas for the next snippet. One is some of the POWs watch a Baseball game and are intrigued, getting a soldier who has been assigned to POW watch duty forced to explain medieval Romans of what baseball is... while the Iron Pact soldiers start commenting that this is likely to be Japan all over again (fun fact when the US sent teachers to Japan in the 1870s, one of those teachers formally introduced baseball to his students and Japan went nuts with baseball... let's just say that Japan became just as baseball crazy -with their own quirks to boot- as the US for a time). The other idea is focused on a 'sound' mage investigating on what instruments both the US/Japan alliance and the Iron Pact has to offer... and proceeds to make both alliances go WTF in terms of musical ability (which would probably include an organ). The third idea is a priest/priestess from one of the conquered peoples of the Sadarian Empire raising an eyebrow both on the through atheism/monotheism/general disinterest with religion within the two alliances' ranks and the various chaplains assigned to the military units in said alliances despite said atheism/general disinterest with religion in the ranks.

Does anyone have a preference for any of these ideas?
 
Top Bottom