Day 244: In Cover of Darkness 

By [PRESS] Lexie Greene

Day 244, War 119

The Stone Plank, Allod's Bight

I had caught wind of a Warden push into The Stone Plank area of Allod's Bight. As soon as I arrived I noticed the weather was dreary, mud everywhere, and the environment seemed depressed. A sign of things to come. There were dugouts and trenches, now unmanned, that were used for the first part of this offensive. The lack of soldiers almost made me believe no battle had actually taken place.

As I walked further down the road, I noticed one lone warrant officer, and I attempted a quick conversation, but they seemed dazed and were unresponsive. I quickly let him return to his seemingly Sisyphean duties of maintaining the abandoned trench network.

Not even a mile further along the fields around me turned desolate, and I began to struggle in the liquid earth under the crying sky. There before me stood a Warden bunker, surrounded by crater shells and still being constructed, and yet more dazed soldiers this time shoveling the wet earth from their fresh trenches into the craters. A story of fierce Colonial resistance and brave Warden victory happened here, but still no sign of fighting until then I heard it. 

A series of explosions just beyond the ridge, followed by the rattling of gun fire. But it seemed slowed, and with the coming darkness I assumed it would enter into a quiet serenity. With this thought, dear reader, I had a bit of a breather after walking so far and took in my surroundings in more detail. 

Half-destroyed buildings with hastily placed machine guns aiming west, fresh graffiti mocking the colonials, and most exciting of all: a prototype Devitt. Seeing these on the battlefield for the first time is a wonder to see and could be a turning force in the war once they enter mass production.

I questioned the crew if they’re planning on going to the front proper, but their commander, Thehungman of the [6th] regiment, explained that it will be dark very soon and it’s not a risk worth taking. He was right. The sun was setting fast, and the cold blanket of night was rising. These factors did not deter this reporter though dear reader and I continued my march towards the sounds of battle I heard earlier.

Upon reaching the backend of the frontlines I saw a group of soldiers being tended to by a medic. I questioned how the fighting was going and the medic, named Lone10, dryly replied: 

“Oh you know, a lot of death. Lot of explosions. People crying for their parents.” 

How truly horrific the war must be to desensitize a man like this. Then more troops ran past me and the beast of war woke up again, suddenly a barrage of explosions and men running from cover to cover. I dashed to follow suit, clambering through the mud to witness the action. So precarious was the area with danger both from gunfire and the ground itself that I fell into a hole, but maybe that was protection from God as not even twenty feet away a grenade exploded and shrapnel was sent forth in every direction, barely zipping over my head.

What fright, but also what an incredible rush! The adrenaline gave me the strength to pull myself out of the groping brown sludge. I ran around a large boulder only to see a lone charging colonial get struck down. As he grasped into the air for help a Warden next to me quickly put him out of his misery, either with mercy or hatred I cannot tell. Seeing this death reminded this reporter of their own mortality and I dived into the closest trench as the night drew closer and the battle continued to rage.

After a few hours of being in a miserable hole with a cacophony of firearms and the skies weeping on everyone, it was now near-impossible to see anything in the thick dark. Except for a new development: the Colonial defenders had brought some armed vehicles to try and break the day's stalemate. The whole trench line started to buzz with action and soon I too was moving under cover of darkness to get a view of the re-invigorated battle.

Suddenly, there was a pop, and a bright light banished all the darkness around me. The colonials were using their flares, and there I was, dear reader, caught in the open with my pants down. Before I even had a chance to think I was immediately being fired upon. I danced and slid to safety once more, and was yet again attached to another Warden squad. This group was attempting a flank on the western cliffs, but little did they know that there were colonials nearby also attempting a flank. A great skirmish broke out until a few Wardens managed to scale the rocky face to attack from above. What tenacity from both forces! 

There were more pops and bursts of light back over where I was first caught in it, and then flumes of fire began erupting in the Warden trenches. I watched in awe and horror as one Warden climbed out covered in fire until he keeled over. Just as the colonial flare was dying I saw more Wardens pushing up to reclaim the ground they had just lost. It continued like this until late in the night and all had gone quiet and dark again. 

Feeling safer, I returned to the trenches, trying to find soldiers who were willing to talk about their experiences so far. Suddenly, another pop and the darkness fled again, and the group I was amongst took fire. I was hit and knocked down, but one of the group had survived. His name was Magna from the [WN] Warden Navy regiment, and he dragged me to the nearest medic. All Magna said to me was

“Don’t die, you need to write the papers! You need to tell the world that the Collies are the bad guys!”

It is at this point I would like to remind you, dear reader, that the cause of this war is a complicated web of politics, and it is the belief of the PressCorps that no side of the conflict has any moral superiority over the other. It is our mission to bring the stories of the war to you and it is this reporter's hope that this story has been an exhilarating one so far.

As the medic tended to my wounds, we held shelter against the wall of the trench he had made his triage. I let myself rest but the battle did not. Even as I was healing a colonial counter attack was inching closer, the Wardens abandoned the trench and me to retreat and Colonial soldiers jumped in to press their assault. I held no fear in my heart though and upon discovering me the Colonials had decided to spare my life despite confusing me for a Warden combatant. I thanked them and regained enough strength to leave the battlefield.

As I walked back through the dark and solemn rain the sounds of battle began to quiet down again, but for how long who knows.

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