The Crucible of War

[Falkenhorst]

After a year or 2 of thinking about all the ideas I have had for a new fanfic, I had some free time this afternoon and began writing them down. This fanfic is somewhat unrefined, since it went right from my mind onto the page, but that's how I like writing, because otherwise I get bogged down in details. Read, enjoy, and tell me what you all think.


The Crucible of War
By Falkenhorst

Chapter 1

The convoy of hovercars jostled over the pitted road, their headlights showing the way in the hazy blackness. The air was thick with smoke and dust from the burning suburbs of the nearby city, a city whose name none of the bone tired, shit-scared draftees huddled in the vehicles knew. A week ago they had still been normal civilians, living lives as normal as anyone's life could be on a planet under siege from massive enemy space forces. When the last of the orbital fortresses was reduced, the Dominion fleet had moved into orbit and laid down a 3 day orbital barrage, obliterating Paris, San Francisco, and many other Starfleet facilities.

The remnants of Starfleet planetside were now taking their orders by secure land-lines from men calling themselves the Planetary Defense Council, operating from deep shelters at secret locations. Edicts had gone out, and the remaining authorities had complied as best they could, rounding up all the able bodied men they could find between ages 18 and 50 and forming them into Citizen Brigades. They were nominally volunteers, but in reality they were scared civilians caught between their own authorities and the enemy. For most of them the choice was simple.

So it was that the newly formed 32nd Citizen Brigade, approximately three thousand freshly recruited, barely trained men, was thrust into the path of massive Jem'Hadar forces pushing south from their initial LZs in Pennsylvania. In the southern outskirts of Petersburg, Virginia, they reached their assembly point. The convoy jostled to a stop in a wide avenue scattered with burnt out vehicles and blowing trash. The stench of fire and death hit the clean faces of the men as they scrambled out of their transport, causing more than a few to double over and vomit, staining their ill-fitting gray BDUs with their own filth. The men had been allowed to elect their officers and NCOs, the only option since the Federation had never had a ground army. These men, just as scared and ignorant of military procedure as those who followed them, struggled through the milling mass of men, screaming and pushing them into ranks by unit.

After half an hour of confused milling around, the men heard the sound of engines approaching down the avenue. A line of wheeled trucks approached, their headlights out. An officer stepped out on the running board of the lead truck, speaking into a loud hailer.

"We're Federal Army Supply Corps. If this is the 32nd Brigade, I want to talk to the Commanding officer."

A stir passed through the assembled men and one stepped out of the crowd, yelling at several more to follow him, and sending a few others back into the mass of men to try and impose order. The man stepped up to the truck and threw a sloppy salute.

"I'm Brigadier Axelman, in charge of the 32nd." he said. His staff gathered nervously around him.

The soldier jumped down from the truck, saluting.

"I'm captain Rodman. I have enough rifles, grenades and RPGs in this convoy for your men. I suggest you get em assembled and we'll unload. I'm due to make another run in an hour and a half."

"Ok, Captain. I'll get my men in line." Replied the Brigadier. He was as confused as the rest of them, but he had studied history in college before becoming an engineer. He turned to his staff.

"Captain Smith, get over there and find 1st Battalion. Tell Major Jones to get his men lined up by the trucks." Axelman stood amidst the confusion, trying his best to appear calm although his mind was racing and he felt like he wanted to throw up. He remembered an old war movie he had seen once, that soldiers had used radios to communicate.

"Captain Rodman;" he yelled over to the supply officer.

"Yo!" said Rodman, coming over.

"Captain, I think I want communicators for my officers. How will I co-ordinate them when... um when we go into action?"

Rodman looked to the North and then back at Axelman.

"Listen, Axelman. Where you're going you won't be doing much talking. You just show your men where the Jemmies are and try to shoot em. If you survive until tomorrow night's supply run, i'll see what I can do about communications equipment." Axelman paled visibly, but he pulled himself up straighter and mustered a glare at Rodman.

"That's Brigadier Axelman to you, Captain. And I expect you to have some kind of communicators for my Brigade by tomorrow night!" He turned and walked purposefully back towards his men, his staffers hurrying to follow him. Rodman just smiled and picked up his Loud Hailer and started haranguing his men to get moving. Axelman pushed through the crowd of his men, trying to look like he knew what he was doing.

"An officer should at least look like he's in charge;" he thought to himself as he began yelling and pushing the 1st Battalion men into line.

After the 1st Battalion had been loaded down with enough Rifles, Ammunition, Grenades and RPGs and rockets to last them at least a few days, Brigadier Axelman had it down to a system, sending 2nd Battalion up to the trucks to pick up their weaponry while his staff showed 3rd Battalion where Axelman wanted them to assemble. Meanwhile, Captain Rodman was on the other side of the street talking to Major Jones of 1st Battalion. Rodman held a stubby assault rifle in his hands.

"Now watch closely," he told Jones and his staff. "This is an old Assault Rifle, an AK-47. The Defense Council is having em replicated by the thousands. You can kick the shit out of these guns and they still work. Very reliable. Now: On the right side of the weapon is the fire selector lever. It has 3 settings: Safe, Auto, and Fire. Up is Safe. Middle is Auto. All the way down is single." Jones and his staffers examined their weapons in the glow of the moonlight, noting what he said as best they could.

"There's an instruction pamphlet in the compartment in the buttstock you all should read when you get time. Anyway, here's the basics. Sights are graduated to 1000 meters. Obviously you set the sights for the approximate range of the enemy. Don't worry about that, you'll be seeing em close enough as it is. Fire the weapon like so." Rodman raised the gun, flicking the selector down and working the bolt. He brought it to his shoulder. BANG BANG BANG BANG! he fired 4 rounds, causing Jones and his men to jump and blink.

"Full auto is in the middle. Use it when you see alot of shellheads at once." Rodman switched the lever one notch up and squeezed the trigger. The gun spat thunder, a stream of empty brass clinking on the pavement. After a few seconds, the gun clicked dry. Rodman held it up and showed them how to release a magazine and seat a fresh one. Then slinging the AK over his shoulder, he pulled a frag grenade off his belt.

"This is a Frag, also 20th Century model. Watch close. Hold the spoon firmly and pull the pin out like this." Rodman Demonstrated. "When you release the spoon you get a couple good seconds to chuck it where you want it." he said as the spoon came free. With a smooth motion he lobbed the grenade into a nearby abandoned hovercar. It exploded violently, shocking Jones and the watching men of the 1st Battalion.

"Now, this baby is an RPG-7. The USSR sure knew how to make em. Good for blowing up vehicles and wasting buildings. Stand back." He grabbed a launcher and hefted it over his shoulder, arming it and taking aim.

"Note that the rocket shoots backblast out behind the operator. Tell your men to watch behind em when they light these off." Said Rodman, squeezing the trigger. The rocket sped out and raced down the street, disappearing into an empty building. A moment later fire and debris exploded violently out of the windows.

"Now you guys show your men all that as best you can before you get into action. I have to go teach yer other Battalions." Rodman saluted and hurried away, leaving Jones, his staff, and 1st Battalion as a whole wondering just what they had gotten themselves into.

While Rodman was showing 2nd and 3rd Battalions the intricacies of their new weaponry, Brigadier Axelman and his staff supervised the activity, which was not quite as chaotic as before. Another Brigade arrived and milled around behind the 32nd, it's officers running around like mad, trying and mostly failing to hammer order out of the chaos. Another vehicle pulled up, nosing it's way through between the lines of men. This one Axelman recognized from some old war movies, a Humvee. It rolled to a stop, a gunner standing head and shoulders behind a heavy machine gun mounted on the roof. An officer jumped out, his BDU fatigues dingy and frayed. He looked haggard and hadn't shaved in a week or more.

"I'm looking for the leader of the 32nd Brigade!" he called.

Axelman stepped up and saluted as well as he knew how. "You've found him. Brigadier Axelman at your service."

"Good to meet you, Axelman. I'm Brevet-Major General John Hale. I've been assigned by Field Marshal Tullberg to command a new Division, to consist of your Brigade, the 32nd, along with the 18th and 49th Citizen Brigades." said Hale, wiping the crud from his bloodshot eyes with a gloved hand.

"Very good, sir. Can I ask, have you come from Marshal Tullberg's staff?" Asked Axelman.

Hale stared at him, distracted for a moment, then sighed.

"Son, a week ago I was a Brigadier in charge of the 8th Citizen Brigade. Since then that unit has been wiped out. Suffered over ninety percent casualties. I survived, so they made me a General. You just keep your head down and don't run away, and you'll do good."

"Is the war really going that badly, sir?" asked Axelman.

"Right now, Brigadier, the best anybody can do is die with his boots on. Form your Brigade for the march, we're moving out. I'll be depending on you." With that, Hale clapped him on the shoulder and jumped back into the Hummer, motioning the driver to head for what was either the 18th or 49th Brigade, just now lining up to recieve it's weapons from Captain Rodman's Trucks.

[Kuja]

1st post.

This holds a lot of promise. I'm looking forward to the Federation ground war.

[CERC]

very interesting path you've taken.... good concept(s)

CERC

[darthdavid]

Well after your badgering I got around to reading it. Good so far and it's nice to finally see the federation with real weapons .