"Love drove me to rebel; love drives me back to grope with them through Hell. And in their tortured eyes I stand forgiven." - Siegfried Sassoon

From the Creator of SC: Samuel is a long time fan and contributor to Shattered Citadel. I am always very pleased to read his fan fictions and I hope you are also. Enjoy. 14072012.


SCFF: Trip to Barcelona
By: Samuel Kingma-Lord

June 30th 2060, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, USA:
­ What the hell was that? Joshua Roberts exclaimed. ­ It’s the Chinese professor. They nuked the West coast! Seattle, Los Angeles, Portland… hell, they even went as far as Winnipeg and Regina! At his home that night, Roberts watched the news, horrified, with his wife and children. ­ … Millions are dead, countless more are wounded. Cities in ruins. Rumors of Chinese crafts approaching the California coast have yet to be addressed by the Department of Defense … ­ Dear God in heaven, what has the world come to?

July 7th 2060, Boston: Everyone in the bar had their eyes transfixed on the screen. Joshua Roberts was no different. The African-American reporter was visibly stressed out but remained professional. He spoke with a shaky voice nonetheless ­ The Chinese continue to advance deeper into American territory. Nearly all of the West Coast states as well as Western Canada are under harsh occupation. The Army and various National Guard units are fighting bravely to give civilians the chance to flee east. Utah, Wyoming, Montana and Colorado are under attack. The military garrison of Denver, composed of the Colorado National Guard, is fighting a heroic but bloody street by street battle against a highly trained enemy. Casualty estimate are as high as 60,000 military deaths. Rumor has it that the infamous Chinese unit known as the Special Task Force is rounding up civilians and prisoners and executing them in their thousands. The DOD has denied us more information. The president is nowhere to be found and we… At that moment a large man threw his glass on the screen. ­ I ain’t gonna let those slant eyed bastards steal my country from under me. This is America dammit! Now who’s coming with me?! As the group of people left the bar, one of the customers approached Roberts. ­ Why are you not going with them? You a coward? Roberts eyed him fiercely. ­ I was in the army during the Second Democratic War! I fought against the Holy Islamic Empire in Iraq, Kuwait and Bahrain back in ‘44. I know what real war is. I’m not denying their enthusiasm but if they don’t get adequate training they will die. Simple as that. As he left, he turned to the waitress. ­ Keep the change.
July 23rd 2060, Boston: Joshua looked at his old yet still pristine military uniform laid out on his bed. When he turned around his wife was staring him straight in the eyes. ­I’ve got to do this and you know it. ­I know. It’s just I thought we were going to live the rest of our lives together. ­ I know but they need serving officers. They lost the majority of them out West. His wife then opened a drawer and gave him a small silver crucifix suspended on a necklace. ­ Honey, you know I don’t believe in that sort of thing. She insisted. ­ I know you don’t, but I do. Keep it always. It will protect you like it protected me. Joshua put the necklace around his neck then embraced his wife. ­ I’ll always love you. You know that. He then took his uniform, put it in a duffel bag then left without saying another word.

July 28th 2060, Devil’s Tower, Eastern Wyoming:
The weather was miserable. The rain had come down and had not stopped for over a week. Thick mud was everywhere. What would have taken less than 5 minutes on a dry day took 30 minutes of sweat and effort before Joshua could enter the command bunker. ­ Major Roberts reporting for duty, sir! A tall officer went up to him. ­ At ease major. Welcome to the 121st Field Artillery Regiment of the Wyoming Army National Guard. I’m Colonel Lewis and this is Captain Brook. Roberts saluted both men and shook their hands. – What's the situation on the front if I may ask, sir? Colonel Lewis put his arm around Roberts’s shoulders and brought him to a map on the far wall. ­ Half of Wyoming is now in Chinese hands. On both our wings here and here we have civilian militias, various National Guard units as well as foreign volunteers from the UK, Poland, Canada, Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Belgium and Portugal. Until now they have all fought with distinction against the Chinese. Especially the foreigners. Nearly all of them were soldiers in their respective countries. The center, here, is the heart of our defense line. It’s composed of Regular Army units, Marines and again units from the National Guard and artillery batteries. We also have about 50 M-1B battle tanks of the 27th Armored regiment. That’s where we come in. You will be in charge of C, D and E batteries, here. Roberts watched the map without saying a word. ­ This rain is a godsend. Doesn’t matter how powerful your tank is. Put enough mud and it will not move an inch. The Chinese have been stopped a good 15 miles west of here. Their tanks cannot go far in this weather and thanks to our observation post on Devil’s Tower any attack they launch is neutralised by either our artillery or the Air Force. Our biggest problem is ammunition. Our regular grunts have enough but our tanks and big guns don’t have enough ordnance. Our replacements are only arriving piecemeal. ­ What about our casualties, sir? Lewis checked a paper on his desk. ­ We lost at least 3500 men this week and double that in wounded. I don’t have a figure for civilian deaths but it’s easily several thousand at least. ­ What are my orders, sir? ­ There’s not much to do for now. With the rain. Both sides are too tired and too wet to do any major action today. Be on your guard nonetheless. Captain Brook will accompany you to your unit shortly. As Brook accompanied Roberts to the bunker’s exit Lewis exclaimed to Roberts ­Welcome to paradise, major.

August 9th 2060: Roberts tensed at the bottom of his trench as a huge Chinese shell gouged the earth not 10 feet from him. Ever since the rain had stopped two days before, the Chinese had resumed their advance. Their tanks had come back to soften the American defenses. The American tanks engaged them in earnest. ­ Roberts! What’s the situation? ­ We’re holding on sir! The Chinks are still slowed by the mud but it won’t last. Our positions are good. We’re destroying their tanks in droves but there are just too many of them and we are getting low on HEAT shells. There was a pause on the other side. ­ Hold the line by any means necessary. At that moment the line cut. As Roberts looked back on the battlefield he could see dozens of wrecked and burning Chinese tanks out in the distance while most of the American tanks remained intact thanks to their thick armour. After several hours of fighting, the Chinese retired out of range of the American guns. Not believing his luck, Joshua climbed on the turret of the closest tank to watch the Chinese retreat through his binoculars. As he watched the retreat, the tank’s cupola opened and its commander got out. ­ Well, we whipped’em again. He said with a Southern drawl. I honestly thought that they were going to press on their attack. Roberts turned his head slightly­ Yeah; I thought so too but… At that moment, something jolted the vehicle, throwing Roberts to the ground. ­ What the hell was that?! He had barely got up when the tank burst into flames, killing its commander almost instantly. Roberts had to move back because of the intense heat and light. When he could look at the tank, It was nothing more than a smoldering, molten wreck. But before he could go far, something snapped it in half with what appeared to be a huge pair of pincers. Those pincers were attached to a large vehicle that literally burst out of the ground. It was unlike anything Roberts had ever seen before: It was an ugly box shaped vehicle with what appeared to be a retractable drill head. He could see a huge red star on its turret. On its side were two big cannons. But instead of firing shells it spouted great gouts of super-heated flames. Before it could go far however, out of nowhere came a Portuguese combat engineer. He got up to the flame tank, stuck a pair of magnetic charges then jumped in the nearest trench; fifteen seconds later, the tank exploded in a huge ball of orange flames that shot high in the sky. Another flame tank followed it but was blasted apart by a shell. A cheer rose among the Americans, but it was short-lived. The ground trembled again and this time dozens of Chinese flame tanks appeared all at once. Unlike the first one though, they immediately started to incinerate all that was around them. Those tanks that left their positions to engage them became targets of opportunity for the other Chinese tanks and were destroyed one after the other. A handful of tanks attempted a sortie but were knocked out by the attacking infantry. As Roberts fired on the advancing Chinese, a Polish female sergeant tapped him on the shoulder. ­ Sir, choppers incoming! You have to be on one of them! Roberts didn’t even turn his head. ­ No I’d rather stay and fight! But she was not convinced. ­ The choppers are here! Get your ass in one of them! As the closest helicopters hovered not 3 feet off the ground, Roberts was shoved in by the sergeant. But before she could get in herself, she was wracked with bullets. Her lifeless body slumped hard on the metallic floor of the chopper. Mad with rage, Roberts shoved aside the door gunner and took command of its anti-vehicle cannon. While the chopper got higher and higher in the air, Roberts was able to destroy a pair of flame tanks and a gaggle of APC’s before blacking out. Wyoming was lost.

November 10th 2060, Nashville, Tennessee: Roberts was waiting outside general Atkinson’s office for over an hour now. Annoyed, he was about to leave when the door opened. ­ I’m sorry to have kept you waiting major. As you know we are way above our heads since the invasion. What can I do for you? ­ I want to go back to the fight general. I’ve been out of it long enough. ­ Well, I’ve got good news for you. You will be sent to the frontlines shortly. But there will be a slight change. Roberts straightened his stance, surprised. ­ What do you mean, sir? ­You will be sent to Europe. Spain to be more precise. Roberts was dismayed. ­Spain? Why the hell Spain? Why not the US? ­ I can understand your frustration but this order comes from high up. They want you to train the new recruits of the Spanish army. They are getting pretty jittery over there in Europe. There are rumours that both the CFR and the HIE are mobilising en masse their troops for an invasion. We cannot let our guard down major. Europe is our main source of supplies for military hardware and manpower. Don’t worry though; you don’t leave for Europe before February. There is also another group, mostly composed of SEAL’s and marines, who will go to Poland. There, they will be training the Polish special forces.

March 12th 2061, Madrid Military Academy, Spain: It had been a long day on the training grounds but Roberts was happy. The Spanish artillery cadets had learned their lessons well. Under Roberts command they had gone from being very slow to very fast in only a few weeks. They had also become proficient in the other forms of training as well. From forced march to bayonet combat.

Later that evening: - So Roberts. What do you think about your cadets now? They are doing way better now than when you first arrived right? Roberts looked up from his plate. ­ They sure do general. I think they will be ready when the time comes. The general raised his glass and Roberts did likewise ­ Here’s to hope and if war is to come let it take its time.

Moscow, Communist Federated Republics, July 6th 2061:
General Krilov swore he was being followed as he made his way to the Kremlin. ­ The KGB has gotten quite jittery these last few weeks. He thought. A few minutes later, he entered the premier’s office. The premier spoke first ­ Comrade general. How goes the mobilisation for Operation Red Eagle? ­ Comrade premier, the mobilisation is going very well. We are on schedule. We have brought Siberian divisions from the East as well as our troops who fought in Japan. The premier was very glad. ­ Well done, well done comrade. There was a knock on the door and an aide entered. He whispered something in the premier’s ear. ­ Bring him in. Krilov turned his head and in came the military attaché of the Holy Islamic Empire. He felt uneasy in his presence. The premier, however, did not seem to share the same feeling. ­ Good to see you my friend. How was the flight from Riyadh? Slightly nodding, the attaché gave his heavy coat to the leaving aide. ­ It was long and tiring. I won’t stay very long. I am to inform you that the God-Emperor has completed his part of the bargain and has put his best troops at your disposal for the liberation of Europe from the infidel kaffirs. I was just here to make sure you held yours. ­You can tell the God-Emperor that everything is on schedule. For the time that you are here, please enjoy a tour of the Kremlin. Get me Corporal Domitsev. ­I’m sure both our nations will be able to bring peace to this troubled world. As he spoke those words, Krilov thought he saw something in the attaché’s eyes that didn’t seem entirely normal. After he left, he made his mind heard. ­How can you trust an Islamist like him? His superior didn’t seem preoccupied ­He’ll do for the time being. You should feel yourself lucky that he is our ally. ­ But we are communists! God does not exist! You know what they do to those who don’t believe in their god. If Europe falls who do you think they will turn against next? They are far from being weak. They are not to be trusted. That seemed to touch a nerve with the Premier. ­I trust you are not being too hasty yourself comrade general. You should not forget how you got to this position. A strong protest came up in his mind but he dismissed it without hesitation. How could he possibly forget? He had been forced to testify against his own father in another one of the premier’s political purges. He was lucky though. The inner circle of the party had called for his father’s execution on trumped up charges of treason and spying. He had been demoted and sent to guard a derelict chemical weapons plant in the middle of Siberia. Krilov didn’t feel like arguing with his superior. He simply got up, saluted and then left the Kremlin. When the Islamic aide returned, he shook the premier’s hand ­ Our offensive is planned for next summer. You have almost another year to get your armies ready and complete your mobilization to make our push into Europe and to final victory.

July 5th 2062, Classified location, East Germany:
Major Roberts had been allowed to attend a top secret conference on the European Union defense plans in the event of a combined CFR-HIE invasion. Yet, he had to remember that he was only a guest and would not be allowed to talk unless talked to by a superior officer. When he left that night he voiced his doubts to his German counterparts. ­ This Hamburg Line thing is impressive but I don’t think it’s a good idea to put all of the supplies in France. Its Islamic population is still highly unreliable. I just hope the top guys know what they are doing.

July 27th 2062, near Saale, Germany, European Union: Roberts was blissfully enjoying a smoke after another failed attack by CFR armored units. As he smoked, an Indian captain stopped beside him. Roberts offered him a cigarette and gave him a light. ­ We beat them good did we not? ­We sure did my friend. Nevertheless they were… very tough today. He gestured to the numerous tank hulks, many of which were still smoking. ­ Walk with me. I understand you’re from India. I heard things are pretty bad over there. Like how those islamists are killing civilians by their thousands. The Indian captain steadied himself ­ You have heard correct. Those islamist bastards have murdered countless of my countrymen. Have you heard about that communist insurgency in the northern part of my country called the Naxalite? The one that’s been going on for almost a century now? Roberts shook his head. ­ I heard that they welcomed the Chinese as liberators. But when their area was retaken by the army, it was lost again but this time to the HIE. Pretty much overnight, they literally broke the back of the Naxalite Movement. So much for being allies. The few survivors that there were escaped south. Most joined with either the National Army or the various militias. I met a few of them before I came here. Let’s just say that they are eager for revenge. Very eager. ­ But aren’t you just a bit suspicious about their communist background? How can you be sure that they won’t conduct sabotage for the Chinese? The Indian threw the butt of his cigarette away; it bounced off a tank’s muddy wheel. ­ I don’t think so. While they are communists, they have a strong sense of national identity. They would welcome the Chinese as friends and allies but they would never willfully give them India. Before Roberts could say anything, two soldiers arrived just beside the wrecked tank. They were visibly shaken about something. ­ What is it soldiers? ­You should come and see for yourself, sir. It’s not good. ­ All right. What are your names? ­ Private Ciaran Doherty, 15th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, from Donegal, sir. Roberts turned to the other soldier. ­ Private André Rioux, 4th battalion Royal 22nd regiment, from Laval, Canada, sir. ­ Lead the way then.

Several hours later: Roberts walked back to his barracks accompanied by other European soldiers. Once inside They made their minds known. ­ Those treacherous French! This is the last straw. We should go tonight and clobber every Frenchmen we meet. The man was a heavily built Ukrainian exile. – I don’t think it would be a good idea, Vasyl. Besides, the very fact that the French have not left their positions like their own president ordered them to speaks volumes about their determination to fight with us. – Very well then. Just keep them out of my way!

July 29th 2062. Near the Spanish border:
They had been retreating ever since the armies of the CFR and the HIE had entered France. They had done so with incredible speed. Way faster that the Allies thought possible. They had taken possession of almost every military base of the French army. – Halt! Stop here and take 15. Roberts looked at the ragged band of soldiers around him. The majority of them were from the European Union. There were Brits, Danes, Swedes, Poles, Norwegians, Belgians, Dutch, a few Americans and Canadians, a handful of Indians while the rest mostly came from the Baltic countries or Ukraine. – How are the men sergeant? Roberts inquired, looking around him. – The men are tired, sir. But one thing’s for sure they are not afraid to fight. – We are still 10 clicks from the Spanish border. Do you think they can keep pace? –Yes sir. – All right. We leave in 10. Pass the word.

2 hours later: - Keep up the pace men! The frontier is only 300 meters away. As they approached the border, one of the soldiers on point suddenly halted, his hand in the air. At his signal, every soldier stood still like statues. An eternity seemed to pass before someone cried in a powerful voice: Trueno! No one seemed to understand what the person was saying. The voice insisted: Trueno! Respond or we will fire on you! At that moment the men got down in defensive positions. – We are ready to fire, Captain! barked the man closest to Roberts. – Don’t fire yet. At that he advanced in the darkness. – My name is Joshua Roberts. Captain Joshua Roberts. US Army. Part of D company 8th battalion of the 329th EU infantry regiment. I demand that you identify yourself! Now! For almost a minute nothing happened. Only the cold haze of their breaths betrayed their presence. – Lower your weapons! I’m coming. The figure seemed to blend perfectly in the evening twilight. Once in front of Roberts and his officers he threw a hasty salute. – My name is Jorge Varela. Commandante of the 55th battalion Guardia Nacional militia group. Forgive me for the threat. There have been numerous skirmishes with Islamic hunting parties. Those groups are constantly probing our lines. The problem is, we don’t have enough men in the area. Roberts was clearly puzzled as he looked around at the ragged Spaniards. – Is this not part of the Barcelona Line? There was a tinge of fear in his voice. – Not at all. Our militia is tasked with patrolling the border with France. The Line is still about 50 miles west of here. Stay here tonight. Rest your soldiers. For tomorrow we will have transportation to bring them to their new positions. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they settled down for the night. By the way captain the reply is rayo. As the captain prepared himself for bed, he looked at the sky: it was a full moon. Roberts smiled and uttered a phrase he had not thought about in a long time: Alea Jacta Est. The die is cast. He never thought it would ring so true right now.



SCFF: Trip to Barcelona
A man's world is forever changed when nuclear bombs rain on America. He soon finds himself racing across the world in the Allied armed forces. A fan fiction written by Samuel Kingma-Lord set in WW3 based on the Shattered Citadel Universe.