The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago The Civil War


The Wanderer Returned

“Down, down with the traitor
That dares to defile
The flag of the stars
And the page of her story”

-Verses from the United States Anthem​

It Begins

War was coming. One way or another, it was coming.

Soon after The Old Guard and The Coalition’s forces left the bunker on another mission, The Coalition troops guarding the streets and enforcing curfew are pulled back. A few minutes pass, quiet, the streets dead, before the sounds of gunfire erupt. Bullets ripped the silence apart as they struck what few Coalition soldiers remained outside on the streets as general guards for the food lines, sending panicked civilians scattering in every direction. They move in, and set up charges inside the food line structure. As they finish setting charges, a large number of Coalition soldiers run out to engage them.


Two explosions rock the entire bunker colony. The first at the food line structure, blowing out its windows and shattering the briefing room into dozens of splinters, leaving an entire wall of the structure blown to pieces. A second explosion occurs underground, shaking the entire bunker complex and blowing a small hole into it from underground.

As people attempt to recover, a third explosion, somewhat delayed, is felt across the ground of the bunker. It came from the direction of one of the more impoverished districts, where listeners congregated. Speakers, set up all around the church district the day before, erupt with the sounds of the elderly priest’s voice. The one who ran the church, the unassuming old man that many ignored.

“ALL OF YOU LISTEN NOW! Your masters who rule above you have fed you, and protected you, but at what cost?! They watch you in your sleep! They kidnap random people in the night and leave their families without answers! They used you as cannon fodder, left The Old Guard to die to the mutant threat outside these walls without even so much as warning them! They live in a castle of opulence, feeding you the scraps they happen not to want! Why live on your knees?! Even now, The Old Guard themselves are trying to turn on them, stealing a prisoner from them in broad daylight! Even The Old Guard knows that The Coalition cannot be trusted!

You’ve seen it, haven’t you all? Your brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters, vanishing in the night? Your listener family members, those who you raised, those who you loved... We don’t want to hurt them, contrary to the propaganda spouted by the very men that steal your bread, and give half of it back to you. We want to protect them, from themselves! You’ve seen it, you’ve all seen it, you know it even as The Coalition hides behind its castle of steel. Its impregnable fortress. The fortress that we have penetrated, and are fighting to destroy even as we speak! For we will not rule over you from a fortress, we will live alongside you, as equals! We will not ignore the mutants who steal your children from you and brainwash them, we will purge them from this bunker! We will not give you empty promises, from empty men—we do this now! We do this with you! As your brothers, your sisters, your fathers and mothers! WE FIGHT FOR A NEW WORLD! A NEW WORLD WHERE ALL MEN LIVE IN FREEDOM AND HAPPINESS, WITHOUT THE YOKE OF TYRANNY! WITHOUT AUTHORITARIANS TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO, WHAT TO THINK, AND HOW TO FEEL!

RISE UP, CIVILIANS OF BUNKER CHICAGO! Those who believe in freedom, in the goodness of all mankind, rise up! Fight with us! We need you now, more than ever! If you’re too frightened, that’s okay too—stay indoors, stay safe. We will keep as many of you safe as we can. We will not shoot at civilians going to their homes, or protecting their families, but enemies of The United American Revival Movement—The Coalition, listen to this message: Run for your lives. We’re coming for you. Every single one of you. We will wipe this colony clean of you, and prove your impregnable fortress a mere lie—like all of your promises! Tonight, THE STREETS OF BUNKER CHICAGO RUN RED WITH THE BLOOD OF TYRANTS! PRAISE GOD, PRAISE FREEDOM, PRAISE THE FOUNDING FATHERS, AND PRAISE U-ARM!”

His speech ends with patriotic music, the sound of which is mangled with the sounds of screams and gunfire all over the bunker.

Freedom’s Last Chance

As the battle for the streets of Bunker Chicago commenced, underneath the ground, the dust settled from the massive explosive that went off. The surface was now visible in the tunnel, through a hole in the ceiling that it had created after it sent dirty flying in all directions, but the hole in the bunker wall had been made. Several U-ARM soldiers run into the hole with wild abandon, armed with rifles and prayer as they attempt to secure multiple ways through the structure. Some bring blow torches and C4 explosives, getting ready to dig their way through their enemy’s defences if needbe.

Kaevus and Eira would be pulled aside by Keith, who looks between then and nods. He looked stoic and ready for anything, like someone ripped straight out of one of U-ARM’s pamphlets. “We may not have time to hit every objective, so prioritize them. The two of you need to stick together. I heard your wishes to go after the prisoners first, and frankly, I agree. After that, however, we are hitting the laboratory. My orders, and I have my reasons for them. If we have time after that, we will hit their power. Their databases are of my least concern, being honest with you both, but the priest suggested it. Take these,” he offers them both ear-pieces. “They’re already set to the right channel. Take them, and head inside, I will be right behind you. You can use them to communicate with me, and other key members of U-ARM squads that are managing the attack.”

He glances into the hole, and holds his rifle tightly. “The sooner we end this, the more of Bunker Chicago will survive this night. For God, and Freedom, and U-ARM!”

Total War

As the battles erupted throughout Bunker Chicago, the sound of incoming helicopters and tanks rings loud and clear. The forces originally dispatched to rescuing Mouse return, the first thing they see in the heavy snow falling around them was the bright flashes of gunfire. In the distance, smoke rises from a listener district—implying heavy fighting in that area. Jenive takes off her helmet slowly and stares at it, in horror, and anger, as her home was slowly being turned red with the blood of her friends and compatriots. She takes a moment to breath, then puts her helmet back on. “This is Jenive, what’s the current status of things outside the bunker?” Silence follows. “Ryan? Adrik?... Anyone?” Further silence, for a few moments, followed by a stranger on the radio. “Hey? Hey! Jenive?! It’s Sergeant Carson—I’m pinned down near the bunker entrance. Last I heard, the listener district was under attack, the church district liberated itself, the food lines were bombed, and U-ARM has taken control over the bunker entrance. They’re holding us back and out of it, preventing us from entering. They’re flooding the bunker, Jenive! We need your help to liberate each of these places from their control! Look, Jenive I’ve got to go, but--”

The transmission is cut off with an explosion. Anastasia and Gabriel can both see it from their positions in the sky, a smoke cloud out near the bunker entrance. There were bodies on the streets below them, but a surprising few were civilian so far. Nonetheless, Jenive goes onto the radio to contact them all. “Start moving out toward the Bunker Entrance! Infantry, rappel down from the transport helicopter—we’re a sitting duck up here! Helicopters, cover Tristan’s tank—he will set our pace there. We have to stick together and act as a coordinated unit, or we won’t make it. Good luck, everyone.” She then turns and offers a hand to Russell. “My jetpack can carry us both down. It’ll be a little faster, and keep the rappels open for everyone else, you know?”
Russell offers a sharp nod as he racks the bolt for his HMG, staring intently over the newly war-torn bunker. A seething rage builds up inside him, a fury that would put any of the Old Guard's platitudes to shame; he was watching his home burn. But unlike the hypocrites in their workshops, he did not lack the courage to help defend his home. He takes Jenive's hand, his other grasping the secondary grip to his primary weapon tightly. "Keep in mind, I'm heavier by about thirty pounds. And Jenive?" He would add, an undertone of... Something in his voice.

"I'll stay by your side."
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"Try and keep your gas masks on," Shlan advised as she strapped on her own jetpack, thumb lingering over the words etched into its casing. "It will make my life easier if I don't need to worry about accidentally tear gassing my own allies." Once the copters were low enough, she'd follow Jenive and Russel to the ground, similarly slowing her descent via her jetpack. Despite the smoke rising from the bunker and the ever present sounds of gunfire, or perhaps even because of it, Shlan felt like she was where she was supposed to be. In danger, but at least against the kind of enemy she could understand. People with guns. People she'd ran and hid from growing up, then gotten paid to fight as an adult. People like her.
Anastasia looked on the bunker with growing horror. Her home, the first place she'd truly been able to supply the term to, was burning. Her pupils contacted briefly, and in the zoomed-in moment, she saw the U-ARM soldiers rising towards the bunker. As her sight returned to normal, her hand began to move forward on the stick, only to stop as she heard Jenive's voice give the order to stay with Tristan.

"T-this is Thunderstorm. I read you, Commander." The young woman's voice was slightly shaky, showing her nervousness. "There's been an explosion at the entrance to the bunker, Commander. Hopefully the Sargeant survived." She paused briefly before adding, "I-I'm moving into position by Tristan now."

With motions that she had been using since she'd learned to fly, Ana brought her helicopter to the right side of the tank, shedding altitude until she was no more than a hundred feet off the ground. As she prepped her weapons systems, manually updating the basic HUD in her flight helmet to mark all Coalition members in vibrant blue, she piped up on the comms again.

"Tristan, this is Ana. I've got your right flank, sitting at about your five o' clock. Ready to move on your cue."
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Their return home to the sight of war was almost sickening to Gabriel. Their homes, which they had worked for generations to build, was being turned to rubble by the forces of the religious bastards. There was little he could muster; rage, fury… All he could think of was the death of those he cared, and the home they could lose. This was a driving factor to what was to come…

The other helicopter reported the explosion, and quickly, Jenive was quick to dish out the orders required. Gabriel, without hesitation, was setting up the weapon system to recognize allies and enemies, but only shoot when authorized to. It meant he could largely focus on maneuvering the attack helicopter against any Ground-to-Air Missiles or Anti-Air Weapon Systems. He would reserve the two mini guns for infantry, the auto-cannon for armored vehicles and tanks, and if there were buildings/heavy tanks that needed a big it; send a missile to it.

“This is Gabriel reporting in. Weapons are hot and ready. Mini guns will be primed once we begin our assault. I've taken position on the left flank of Tristan.” He placed his helicopter on the left flank of Tristan’s tank, about the same height as the other chopper on the right flank. “If any of you would come to see any Anti-Air Weapon Systems, either warn us or take it out so we can continue at a steady pace with Tristant. Jenive; Any special targets you need me to take out, simply give the order and I’ll get right to it.”
Tristan looked on the scene of the bunker, horrified at the sight before him. The once peaceful place he called home was now in a brutal state of total war. Whatever sympathy he had for the U-ARM and their cause had now evaporated, like the smoke climbing high into the sky. Is this what your 'freedom' has wrought? he wondered. He was sick with worry, was his family safe? Had they found shelter from this madness? A signal then came through, one of the Coalition soldiers had tried to contact the group, a fact which comforted Tristan until the line was interrupted by an explosion on their end. U-ARM was clearly giving their all in this assault, and the Coalition was, if not losing, then at least having a rough time in the battle.

He almost did not catch Jenive's orders at that point, so lost was he in worry. He did at least catch enough to guess at what was going on, he was to be the tip of the spear for this defense of their home. Soon enough the others had given their own positions, Russell was to be near Jenive and Shlan next to his tank, while the two helicopter pilots Gabriel and Anastasia were to cover his flanks. It was a sound position, but against the raw firepower of U-ARM, was it going to be enough?

A few moments passed, as Tristan closed his eyes to calm himself and wait for any additional comments, then he said "Roger that everyone. Moving out now, keep on your toes.". Then he pushed his stick forward, his tank marching on into the thick of battle. His tactics were simple at this point, use his turrets to mow down any U-ARM infantry, and save the laser cannon for any enemy armor or anti air that he came across. One thing was sure on Tristan's mind

He was going to defend the bunker, or die trying.
"Aye, and for the men we've lost to get us here," Eira added, her voice barely audible through all her protective headgear. Pulling off her helmet, it took her a couple moments to de-strap her gas mask and slip the earpiece into her ear. "Testing?"

She kept her flamethrower holstered for now, instead loading her grenade launcher with its specialized buckshot rounds. Without her tank around, she needed to be wary of wasting fuel. For now, they had the upper hand in surprise—and indoors with heavy armour, she felt confident that she could tank a couple hits as she got close.

Eira advances into the hole. When she speaks next, she does so quietly, but the others would be able to hear her clearly through the earpiece. "Do stick close, Kaevus. I might not be the quietest in this get-up, but when the fighting starts, you'd do well to stand behind me."
"Will do. I'll try to take out the bigger game that's left." Kaevus drew his high caliber revolver, preferring it over the cumbersome rifle, and followed close behind. He felt cool and ready. The U-ARM needed to make a stand, and he was damn proud to be a part of it. The sycophants, experimenters and listeners of the Coalition were about to get a boot stamped down right on top of them. The smoke, dust, din of battle and acrid sting in the air made him feel right at home.

"I can take a few rounds if things get too heated up there. I'm a fair bit quieter too. Let me know if you need to switch out." He paused a moment, hesitating before signaling again through his earpiece. "I'll have your back through this. Just do me a favor and watch mine as well. It'll take both of us to nail these Coalition bastards."

"Now," he said, moving through the hole "Which way to the prison blocks, Sergeant Major?"
“You stocking up for the end of the world there?”
-Anastasia Fleiszig, Page 1, “Fresh Meat meet Old Salt”​

U-ARM – Unstoppable Patriotism!

“Just follow my lead.” Keith states simply, as he walks brazenly out into the hole in the wall. He motions for a handful of soldiers who were guarding the entryway to follow him as well, and though they seemed a bit hesitant before, around him, they moved rapidly and without fear. Notably, while most of U-ARM’s soldiers wore painted armour with American iconography, Keith’s armour was barren, save for a painted skull with a knife through it. Underneath it read the following words: “No Traitors.” In his hands was a shotgun, and at his side was a high calibre revolver.

The occasional shaking floor signified to them when U-ARM was breaking through into other areas of the facility. Their path had been largely cleared for them however, as they passed by corpses of both U-ARM and Coalition soldiers. They continue moving until they reach a long hallway, the end of which had a reinforced door that led into the prison facility. There were no more bodies here. “Hall is ten feet long...” He glances at one of his U-ARM soldiers. “Go set an explosive on the door and then come back. This is a kill zone.”

The U-ARM soldier complies, and as he finishes setting the explosive on the door, the door is swung open, knocking the U-ARM soldier aside. A Coalition soldier steps out, and then stops in his tracks. He turns and aims his rifle at the U-ARM soldier, who lifts the trigger to the explosive. “FREEEEDOOOM!”

Another explosion shakes the bunker. A few splatters of red now decorate the cold grey metal around what was once a door, as do black blast marks. The dust settles, and as it does, one of the U-ARM soldiers still alive tosses a deployable turret into the hallway. “We move in once it runs out of ammo.” Keith states to Kaevus and Eira. Several hundred rounds are expended, riddling the other side of the hallway, into the prison room. Once the turret runs out of ammo, Keith moves first, motioning for everyone else to follow up and move into the room.

Smoke deploys in the room. Vision is cut down to nothing. A last stand, it seemed, was in front of them. Nonetheless, Keith orders for them to move up, and into the smoke—to take the room in glorious melee, if they had to.

The Coalition – Ambush the Ambushers!

Jenive nods in response to Russell’s concern, and grabs him before stepping off of the helicopter. She slows their descent down, until they reach the ground. Though she struggled a bit to hold him and his weight, there was no question that it worked. She had, after all, done it once before.

With the squad listening to her orders and executing them efficiently, she ensured that they took the right path to lay low in the chaos—the snow storm helping to obscure the movements even of their helicopters. Though they reached a friendly Coalition squad, the squad ushered them onward toward Jenive’s first objective, as they simply continued to hold a single street against repeated U-ARM attacks. Things were not as hopeless as they had first appeared at a distance, though from the number of wounded Coalition soldiers being dragged toward the sides of streets for medics to treat, it was clear that things were still not going well.

Finally, after a tense few minutes of rapid travel, they reached the northern edge of the bunker district. A clear, flat town square, with no structures for around five hundred square feet was between them, and the entrance to the bunker. Jenive goes on her radio. “Sergeant, are you there?”

Relative silence follows, with gunfire in the distance. There were some sounds of combat coming from the open town square ahead of them, but the snow storm obscured their vision—cut it down to less than fifty feet. “This is Sergeant Carson! We’re not doing so great! They have two tanks in the town square, and they have us suppressed.” Jenive pauses for a moment, then replies. “Which direction are you relative to the entrance?” The sounds of a tank firing its main gun echoes through the town square, but a reply comes through nonetheless. Along with the sounds of scattered debris hitting the ground. “South West!”

Jenive turns to look at Shlan. Simply from the way she was standing, the way her hands tensed around her laser rifle, she had a plan. She reaches into her pocket and tosses Shlan a laser pointer. “It’s a target marker. I was planning on using these to coordinate our fire underground, but these will allow us to mark any targets we can see for the helicopters to wipe out. Otherwise, in this?” She motions to the snow falling around them. “They are effectively blind. Ana, Gabriel, make sure your on board AI’s are set to receive targeting data. These won’t be encrypted, so U-ARM will know we’re targeting them the moment we light them up—don’t hesitate to fire when we have them targeted for you.”

She then pats Tristan’s tank. “We’re gonna need you to be bait. Roll out and get their attention. Try to use the sound of their tank fire to coordinate your shots. If we take out their tanks, we should be able to kill what infantry they have there quickly, if they don’t simply scatter. Russell, protect Shlan, make sure she isn’t shot while marking a tank. Carson, if you’re still there, once we’ve taken out the tanks, order your men to charge.” There is some static in the reply. “You got it Jenive! Just get them off our asses!”

“Alright everyone, move out together. Let the tank take the brunt of their attacks—it has armour, the rest of us don’t. Once we secure this position we can reestablish contact with the Bunker, and figure out what to do from there.”
The moment his boots hit the snow-covered ground, he's already on the move; his servos whine somewhat with the effort of trudging through the snow, he takes a forward position, staying just ahead and to the left of the tank that their formation was based around. He hefts his large weapon, keeping it trained forward, though he lowers it when the Coalition squad comes into view. He rushes past them, the stomping of his boots dwarfed by the sound of the tank's roaring engines, his expression grim under his helmet.

Coming to an abrupt stop when Jenive discusses their plan of attack, he sharply nods, moving over to Shlan. "Try to stay behind me. If we get flanked, I'll try to put myself between you and any hostile fire." Hefting his gun, he grits his teeth, and begins moving towards the designated corner of the square, ready to open fire on any hostile infantry targets that present themselves. "These damned freedom-obsessed maniacs won't take our home."
Eira grimaced at what she perceived to be the needless death of a loyal soldier. Contrary to many of her comrades' beliefs, a life lost was a life wasted.

Now, with smoke obscuring their vision, the squad would have to be careful in their attack. Both sides were blind—but unlike the U-ARM grunts who could only guess at the positions of their enemies, the Coalition guards had one clear target: the door. Despite the resilience of her heavy armour, she had no desire to test it against a room full of unknown assailants.

Holding her arm out, she indicated to the rest of the squad to wait.

Hitting a switch on her armour, a single spherical drone detached itself from her back and smacked onto the ground. Moments later, dozens of thin spines shot out from its center, pushing it up from the floor. While normally these spines were used to help it cross uneven terrain, now they served a different purpose. At her command, the drone rolled into the room, heading right—and the spines made a distinctive clicking noise on the floor, alerting anyone in the room to its location.

It was nothing more than a distraction; she had no intention of setting off the little mine.

"Let's go," she said through the radio. Moments after it sped into the room—and hopefully attracted fire—she too rushed in blind, moving to the left and aiming to ram the first guard she came across, gun at the ready in case she was lucky enough to see them before making contact.
Ana was already working with her AI, holding her position steady, setting it to filter what it could of the snow's visual noise. It wasn't as good as thermal or starlight optics would be, and she regretted not installing either of those sooner, but it helped a small bit. When she was done, she put her now-free hand against her PDW, as if to assure herself it was still there.

"Thunderstorm ready to receive data as provided. Weapons are primed and hot. With your permission, Commander, I'd like to take a more angled approach, giving you all one direction to come from while I circle through cloud cover to strike from another line." She paused briefly. "My sight lines for the laser may become obscured, but we're not completely defunct up here. Can't speak for Gabriel, but I've performed crane ops in weather like this before, and with heavier winds. As long as I can get some kind of visual on target, I should be good to go."

She continued to fiddle with her HUD, tweaking the color of the Coalition to a deeper blue, keeping contrast with the visual imagery high but dulling the color some so as not to blind herself too much. She did what she could to calibrate marking civilians in green and U-ARM in burgundy, but there was only so much to be done, as her database was not capable of the recognition required in the snowy landscape. It might make mistakes, but the Coalition members were already highlighted, and were thus not in danger of being targeted.
Shlan followed close behind Russel, assault rifle held at the ready. Trudging through the snow slowed her down, but she felt she could keep it going for a while before exhaustion started to take hold. "To be honest," she said to Russel as they went, "if people start shooting at us I generally prefer to shoot back. While making a break for cover. And I generally don't consider other people cover, no matter how hefty their armour."
Russell simply gives a soft grunt that sounds somewhere between a scoff and an affirmation. "Normally, I'd agree with you. But are you going to shoot back and take cover while you're painting those tanks for our birds?"
Kaevus kept his head low and his gun ready as he followed behind, barely close enough to still see her through the smoke. Silently, he swore to himself. He didn't like this type of thing. First coalition soldier he saw, he would grab and use for cover. Best thing the bastards were useful for.
Fortunately, when the team rolled into the city, Tristan saw that the damage was not quite as bad as he had feared. Even so, if left to their own devices, U-ARM would probably cause far more devastation in the city. "Roger that Jenive." Tristan said over the comm. He grimaced at the thought of being bait for the enemy army, especially an army full of bomb throwing, desperate fanatics. The man had a job to do though, and he was not going to let his fear of death put him back now. Once the team was ready, he moved the tank forward, prepared to face the enemy in battle.
The orders received were a simple one to follow, though Gabriel was a little eager to get into the action. His impatience was already starting to show; the barrels of his miniguns primed and spinning already… Though, the pilot knew he had to show restraint. Any disobedience and lack of discipline was going to come back and bite him in the ass.

So, Gabriel would go ahead and allow a link to be done to the target marker, with the auto-cannon and missiles linked to it. Plus, with the specific request of the tank to take bait, he would allow his helicopter to be being the tank, far enough so it wouldn’t get spotted until it was too late.

“Link initialized and position taken. Ready to fire once a mark is done.”
“Because of my feelings for Carolyn, I handed over the prisoner. Because of my hesitations in the face of the enemy, I lost my leg. Tell me... How do you choose not to feel?”
-Jenive Rousseau, Page 1, One Day at a Time.​

Civil War: Coalition

Their approach in the snow was well coordinated, and the snow obscured their approach as much as it obscured their vision. Two bright flashes appear in the snow ahead of them as they get closer—tanks, having fired their main guns at the Coalition forces nearby. Once they get into range, Jenive and Shlan’s laser pointers go up and light up two tanks about ten feet away from them. A U-ARM Infantryman turns and notices Jenive, and thus, begins action over the course of five seconds.

The laser pointers manage to perfectly splash their targets, with both Gabriel and Ana’s targeting systems lighting up. Before the U-ARM Infantryman can open fire at Jenive, Russell’s gun roars to life and shreds the infantryman down. As the rest of U-ARM’s force turns to engage, the two tanks each take hits from above by Gabriel and Ana’s helicopters, blowing them away and sending smoke and fire billowing out into the sky.

U-ARM’s infantry begin to scatter in every direction, with Jenive’s squad scoring a couple more kills on stragglers by Tristan and his tank. Jenive’s orders were followed to the letter, and in that moment of relief after the fact, her competence as a commander was proven with the sounds of Sergeant Carson cheering into his radio. “We’ll move back in to secure the bunker entrance Jenive! What are your orders?”

Jenive looks to the rest of the squad and nods in appreciation, then speaks to them all. “That is an example of Coalition coordination—I could not have asked for better from all of you. Give me a moment while I attempt to establish contact with command.”

Though it took a few seconds, it was clear that Jenive was finally able to contact her commanding officer inside the bunker. A minute passes, orders and statuses were relayed over a private channel. Jenive seems to pause for a moment, then switches back to the squad’s channel. “U-ARM has gained access to the prisoner blocks, and are releasing local terrorists, arsonists, saboteurs, and murderers. The bunker is not in a good shape. I’m going to have to enter the Bunker and give them direct support.”

She turns and looks up at the helicopters flying overhead of her. The winter storm was starting to die down a bit, giving everyone somewhat increased visibility. “Your orders are as follows. You will recapture the food lines district, the listener district, and assault the church district. The food lines district is a central hub of travel and is necessary for us to maintain our supply routes all around the bunker. The listener district is full of innocent people that U-ARM are haphazardly slaughtering with wild abandon. The church district is where their headquarters are—destroying the church should kill their leader and stop the flood of propaganda, as well as damage their claims that they can protect the people. It is up to all of you to decide what order you want to accomplish these objectives in, and how you will do it. I will remain here to give you any further advice you require, but once you leave, I will enter the bunker, and we will most likely lose contact. We’re depending on you to lead the charge... The sooner you retake those districts, the more likely we’ll see each other again.”

Civil War: U-ARM

As Eira’s little drone rolled into the room, gunfire immediately poured into it—from three directions. One to the left, one in the center, and one to the right. Eira’s charge is sufficient to slam into the Coalition soldier on the left, slamming him into a wall with a satisfying crunch as one of his ribs is fractured. The soldier then slumps to the floor, unconscious. Behind Eira she could hear a the sound of a revolver going off—Keith’s sidearm. Through the smoke, she could see the empty bullet casing rolling to her feet, and a few splatters of red along with it.

Kaevus enters the room and finds a Coalition soldier swinging a knife at him. He’s able to stop it with ease, holding the man back long enough for a second shot from Keith’s revolver to penetrate the soldier’s skull, blowing it into several chunks. Blood sprays over Kaevus’s face and chest, as well as a few bits of brain matter, and slumped in his arms was a corpse of something that once threatened him.

As the smoke begins to subside, Keith’s voice is heard loud and clear. “SOLDIERS, LET THE PRISONERS GO! LIBERTY FOR OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS!” Cheering can be heard echoing further inside the prisoner facility, as Keith looks to Eira and nods with approval. “You think on your feet. Well done.” He then looks to Kaevus, and laughs at the blood on his face. “This must be reliving glory days for you, no? Regardless... Take a moment to collect your wits. We’re going deep inside the bunker and into the labs next. We’ll take a small team. I will be depending on both of you far more there than I was here, understand?”
Anastasia checked her systems after firing, ensuring there were no follow-on malfunctions from her missile pods. Everything was in the green, and she let herself feel the barest smile, if only because everything had performed as designed. As Jenive continued to speak, however, her smile faded and she became more grim again. They were taking the offensive now, and she was, if nothing else, one of the key members. As she listened to her commander, a smattering of ideas ran through her head, but it was disorganized and she was unable to pick out which one would be best.

For a moment, the comms went silent as the orders were assessed.

"I'll take the Listener District, ma'am. If we can show the people we're here for them, it will help us, of that I have no doubt." She cleared her throat, an audible and small coughing noise over the comms, before speaking further. "Gabriel, you and Tristan take the Food Lines District. Get us those supply routes back ASAP. With the lines open and the support of the people, we should be able to mount a reasonable offense against the Church District." She paused again, this time simply taking a moment to breathe as she felt the flood of confidence.

"Once we've got those two secured, we'll mount the assault. I'd have suggested going for their leadership first, but I'd be willing to bet they've got that area prepped for our vehicles, as well as enough defenses against a small amount of soldiers. If we can sever the connections between their assault group at the Bunker and their headquarters, we can make our lives and jobs a bit easier out here." Her voice became a bit quieter, suddenly hosting a vindictive quality.

"And if we don't manage to take them out today, we'll cripple them so badly that the U-ARM won't dare to fuck with the Coalition or the rest of Bunker Chicago ever again." The Pilot blinked a few times, surprising herself in how angry she'd become, but she was deeply worried about so much at the moment that her nerves were at their ends.
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Loyalties: A collab between @Axl and @Nilum

Russell grits his teeth as his weapon spews lead at the fools who thought they could take on the Coalition's forces, the recoil rattling down to his very bones. The bullets cut down his enemies like a scythe against wheat, and moments later the zone was cleared, his teammates finished with their objectives. He pauses for more orders, though when Jenive said she would split from them, he looked at her with a curious look. "Sir, I will accompany you." He states this gruffly, but not with anger or spite, simply stating a fact.

"No, secure the city Russell." Jenive replies, simply. "Those are your orders."

Russell gives a soft, dry-sounding chuckle. Once again he's given orders that he might end up breaking. Funny to him that he's setting a bad image of himself to his superiors, but he never wanted to ascend the ranks.

"With all due respect, Jenive..."

His gaze moves to meet Jenive's, and in the steely cold of the man's gaze could be seen a spark of determination.

"...I did say I would stay by your side."

Jenive sighs and takes off her helmet. There was a grim expression on her face--there was more to this than simple orders. "No, you have to stay, and help take back the city. The only reason I'm going in is to slow U-ARM down, but every minute they are allowed to move freely up here is another minute they have to break past the bunker's defenses... And I am not a blind patriot. They will, eventually, get through, unless we take back the streets. Most of our forces are tied down in the chaos, we need you and everyone else to stop them." She rests a hand on his shoulder. "Be by my side by helping me save Bunker Chicago, okay, Russell?"

The man in the armour pauses at this. He knows she's right, but he still doesn't want to have her facing the zealots alone. A few choice moments of silence hang themselves around Russell as he debates whether or not to argue his position to her, but he knows she's right. "...Yes, sir." A mixture of disappointment and resignation fills his voice, as he ultimately cannot find the words to raise in protest. "...Try and stay safe."

"You too, Russell. With luck, we'll see each other again." She squeezes his shoulder gently, then steps back and puts her helmet back on.