Bullhead City uprising

2276: April 25th.

Camp Search light was technically an army base. However it was an army air corps base specifically. The base was built out of a small pre-war air strip just outside of a small town with the same name inhabited by NCR colonists.

Its primary purpose was to house a single flight of three aircraft. Two were glorified gliders with tiny two cylinder engines that were used for reconnaissance along the Colorado river. While the third was a small Bi-Plane that was actually armed with a single machine gun and a bomb lock. While also for reconnaissance it had been sent out to provide air support against the Brotherhood on ocassion.

Overall it was a minor military post as most air traffic went through McCarran while this little airstrip was relegated solely to this single recon flight.

It was, however, far from the front lines with either the raider groups of the Mojave or the Brotherhood. And the small town did have a couple luxurious like a saloon and a Followers clinic that also served honey based candies.

Overall it was the perfect place to serve out the last month of my service contract. I'd enlisted in May two years ago, next month I'd be able to resign from the army and go home. My whole company had been rotated here, but it still made a good last posting.

However the universe seemed determined to deny me this leisurely final posting as the entire company had been assembled, our captain talking to the base commander before saluting and turning to face us.

"Alright everyone, we have an issue, the garrison at Bullhead city has gone silent. The city's been a hotbed for local resistance to our occupation, and while it's possible their radios were simply sabotaged and they are fine, reports of the Legion nearing our borders means we can't ignore this. So our company is going to investigate. Hopefully nothing's happened but I want you to prepare for the worst, there is an entire battalion stationed in that city and if the city was taken in an uprising or worse, we may need to fight our way back to friendly lines. Grab your gear and assemble by the gate in thirty minutes. Dismissed."

I marched off back to my barracks and grabbed my gear with the rest of my squad. Grabbing my M1 Grenade rifle and SMG I strapped them to my back and side before I started stuffing pouches full of magazines and grenades. While my squad did much the same with their own weapons and ammunition.

Looking back to my own affairs, I started contemplating what could be going on. Sure it was possible their radio had just been sabotaged. In fact I considered that more likely than the army of tribals everyone but me seemed to fear so much. What I was concerned about was that this was a Brotherhood attack.

Over the last year the Army had been systematically finding and wiping out Brotherhood bases and driving them into a smaller and smaller cordon in the center of the Mojave. The chance this was a prelude to a counter attack to break out of said cordon was too large not to be concerning. At least it seemed to me.

So as everyone else prepared to fight insurgents or tribals. I grabbed three pulse grenades I'd purchased for myself with my own money. Just in case I was right.

Technical specialist 5th grade Farson O'Sheridan.

As the company marched south along the coast of the Colorado, I considered everything I'd seen over the last two years.

I'd seen more of the world than I ever had before growing up on my family's farm in The Hub.

Overcame my fear of the Brotherhood after seeing even with their power armor they could be killed by a teenager with a rifle if you knew where to aim.

I met people I never would've before, like Molly, one of the new squad members we'd taken in last year, who really was a sweet girl that I think I'd like to marry one day.

And of course there was Tanya.

She'd surprised me at basic training, I thought she was a city brat that didn't know what hard work was. But she did well enough in basic, and impressed most of us with her determination to keep going.

Even then I was sure she'd crack when we saw combat. I'd killed a man when I was thirteen, the bastard threatened my sister and had it coming. But there was no way she understood that kind of violence.

Well not only had she kept cool under pressure in every firefight we were in. But she'd actually rallied the rest of us when our squad was jumped by that Brotherhood patrol last year.

I figured she had to be a one trick pony and only be good at war. Then she started making absurd amounts of money 'reselling coffee' she bought from the Strip.

I suppose that her largest problematic characteristics were that she was often detached from the rest of the squad. But then she'd do a one eighty when our morale was low, or during social events like last Christmas. Or there was when Sarge asked her to help train the new blood, then she could be downright terrifying, but she clearly had the success of the unit in mind.

The other negative trait was that when you got her going on anything involving bartering or merchants, or anything she seemingly thought was connected, she'd ramble on to the point most of us stopped caring and tuned her out.

But overall I think I was still glad to have the little city brat in my squad. If for nothing else then her combat ability.

Of course there was always the question of how a girl so close to my own age knew so much and was so good at combat. But whenever I or anyone else asked where she'd learned this stuff, she just said she'd used her allowance to buy books at the military orphanage she grew up in.

Honestly I thought it was bullshit. But in the end it didn't really matter to me. What did matter was that she was good enough to keep us alive. And I'd trust her and Sarge more than the LT or anyone else.

As we came around a bend in the river and canyon wall, we came into view of Bullhead and the pontoon bridge across the river. And the rising smoke from the city…

Tanya:

Crossing the bridge and marching into the city, we found bodies of our fellow soldiers dead at the city gate. They had their necks slit or heads caved in, meaning they had been killed from behind.

Moving into the city proper we found the streets abandoned, with more dead men hanging from lamp posts. All of them soldiers, not a single civilian in sight.

Seeing the carnage, our captain ordered us to form a staggered column on either side of the street, our weapons kept at a ready position. Each platoon was sent to a different location in the city. 3rd platoon went to the city hall, 4th platoon to the city's water supply, and we in 2nd platoon got sent to the city garrison. While the command squad and 1st platoon secured the entrance to the city and the route back across the Colorado river.

I kept looking around the half-ruined and repaired buildings around us, not a single living soul in sight. Whatever happened here couldn't be good, I tried to think, a slaver raid? They couldn't take a whole city of over three thousand people plus the several hundred-strong battalion garrisoning the city. And that didn't account for the dead guards.

Maybe it was an uprising? It would answer why we suddenly lost contact with the city, and the dead troopers. But why had we been allowed to walk into the city uncontested? And where were the rebels? They wouldn't abandon their home after successfully attacking the garrison. Otherwise, they would have just left on their own before now.

No, nothing made sense here. But we'd know more when we got to the garrison.

Passing by an alleyway I saw movement from the corner of my eye. Turning on my heel I brought my SMG up and looked down the deserted alley. All I saw was rubble and trash.

"What is it?"

I turned and saw one of my squad mates, Molly, come up behind me, her own rifle at an awkward ready position.

"Nothing, probably just saw a stray out of the corner of my eye…"

She nodded and kept her rifle pointed down the alleyway, allowing me to move forward and retake my position in the column behind Sullivan.

Looking up at the many pre-war buildings that were still standing, I saw the hundreds of years of repairs and patches done to keep them habitable. Many of them had no glass in their windows or had chunks blown out. But most of this damage looked at least a decade old from the uprising that had elevated General Kimball to the office of president. None of it looked new, except the ever-present sight of troopers hanging from their necks on every street.

The lack of fresh battle damage just raised further questions. At this point it was becoming clear that there had been a fight, but there was no fresh debris, no bullet casings, no blood spread across the street. Just the bodies of my fellow troopers and empty streets devoid of life.

Rounding a corner I finally saw our platoon's objective, a large warehouse that had been converted into the city garrison HQ and barracks. Again there was no fresh damage, only the gates being left open and lack of sentries giving any sign something was wrong.

Our squad was the first to cross the open ground between us and the barracks. Bounding across the old road we quickly made our way past the old perimeter fence before stacking up against the wall of the building.

I brought my SMG up and swept it across the building looking down at us from across the street as the rest of the platoon crossed the road.

Once all fifty-odd of us were across, the platoon sergeant motioned to Sullivan to breach.

Taking a deep breath, I moved up behind him as besides his laser RCW, I had the best CQB weapon in the squad. Johnson stood across the door from us and grabbed the handle before counting down on his fingers. When he reached zero he opened the door and Sullivan and I rushed in. He swept to the right, I went left. We came into the building's old front lobby which had been converted into a security checkpoint. The guards were missing. Likely hanging with the rest.

The two of us quickly moved across the room, I stacked up on the door on the other side of the room and looked out into the open warehouse space beyond which had cots spread out within. Sullivan moved past me into the open space, followed soon after by the rest of the squad who quickly moved to secure the room. I followed them, bringing up the rear with Corporal Johnson.

The room itself was a mess, personal items, clothes, and equipment was scattered across the floor. A space in the middle of the room under the catwalk leading up to the warehouse's manager's office had been cleaned and a puddle of blood sprayed across the floor showed that someone had been killed there.

I looked at the puddle of dried blood with a detached expression. I'd seen more gruesome imagery than this in my second life. But all the same old coping mechanisms kicked in as my mind processed what had happened here.

"Sullivan. Clear the officer's quarters!"

"Yes sir! Woodson with me."

I turned to see Sullivan moving towards a set of stairs that went to the upper floor. Moving quickly I followed him up, my SMG sweeping the rafters holding up the ceiling as we crossed the exposed catwalk and moved across the front wall and boarded up remains of a window. When we got to the door we saw something scribbled in blood across it.

'The fate of profligates and degenerates'

Pushing the door open I was met by the sound of growling. Before I could react a hound of some kind shoved its way past me with its teeth barred, blood dripping from its mouth.

It turned to look at me to attack, but before it could, Sullivan fired into it with a stream of laser fire that cooked the dogs guts and killed it near instantly.

I took a breath and slowly looked inside, my breath catching in my throat as I did. All across the room were the mutilated bodies of the battalion's command staff and officer corps. Their bodies torn apart by the pack of hounds still inside, glaring back at me. And hanging from the back wall, her hands nailed to the beam supporting it. Was the battalion commander, her eyes gouged and blood dripping from her mouth, her legs mutilated and shredded down to the bone by the dogs.

Slamming the door closed before the hounds could pounce on me again. Instead of waiting I grabbed one of my grenades and pulled the pin, much to Sullivan's surprise. Quickly I jerked the door open before throwing it inside and diving to the deck. Sullivan joined me on the floor a second later.

After five seconds there was a loud bang, and the doors window along the old office's front window blew out. Not wasting a moment, I quickly stood and aimed inside, spraying short bursts of lead into each and every dog I could see. No matter if it was moving or not. I only stopped when the bolt of my SMG slammed closed on an empty chamber.

By the time I had dropped my spent magazine and had loaded a new one and cocked the bolt back on my gun, Sullivan had gotten to his feet, aiming his gun into the room as he made to scold me.

"What the hell Specialist!? What were you… doing…?" His words died on his lips as his eyes moved from my face into the old office space turned bunk room. He saw the mutilated bodies of the garrison's officers and the crucified body of the Major, and he immediately started gagging as he turned away from the window and kept heaving.

"Sergeant! What the hell is going on up there?!" I heard the Lieutenant shout from below.

"Sir… we found the officers… all dead… dogs…" Sullivan said as he got his gag reflex back under control.

"Damn it… All right, collect their dog tags and get back down here. No reason to stick around."

Moving to follow the Lieutenant's orders, Sullivan and I slowly walked into the room and started digging through the remains to find their tags to return to their families. It was gruesome and I quickly found my hands covered in blood, but it was the least we could do.

As we saw to our bloody task, I couldn't help but wonder what had happened here, none of it made any sense, from the seemingly complete lack of a fight put up by the garrison, to the lack of people. The only thing that made sense was if… the people had ambushed them in their sleep… like Arlene in my second life… when the city's population rose up in revolt… DAMN IT!

Scrambling to my feet I rushed out of the room, leaving Sullivan to stare in confusion as I ran onto the cat walk and yelled down. "It's a trap!"

The rest of the platoon and the Lieutenant looked up at me in confusion.

"This was a trap! It's the city's population, they slaughtered the garrison and let us march right into the center of the city so they could ambush us!"

Almost as if on queue, gunfire erupted across the city, likely coming from one of the other platoons who had tripped their own ambush.

The gunfire soon escalated as the other platoon came under fire. Meaning we would be next.

However, my warning and the timing meant most of my platoon was able to rush to what cover they could as bullets started coming through the wooden loading doors and windows.

I ran back inside the office and grabbed Sullivan before the two of us ran back downstairs to find the rest of our squad. Preparing my grenade rifle as I ran.

As we got to the ground floor and hid behind a brick wall with the rest of our squad, I started considering what was going on. This sort of ambush was too sophisticated for civilians, especially in a world like this where basic education was a luxury not afforded to most.

This city had been disarmed after a large revolt early into the NCRs occupation of the Mojave. Meaning whoever organized this had also armed them. However, by the sounds of the gunfire, those who weren't using stolen weapons from the garrison were using some big bore rifle, likely a single shot or bolt action by the fire rate.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the Lieutenant shouting over the cacophony of gunfire.

"Stand up, fire your weapons damn it! We will hold this position and teach these rebels what happens to those who cross the Republic!"

My head whipped around to the man, was he insane?

Hold this position? With no supplies, as the enemy certainly would have taken them, and in a position where the enemy held the advantage of cover. Was our Lieutenant insane?!

Clearly I was not the only one of such a mind as the Platoon sergeant immediately spoke up. "Sir we should make a breakout attempt and make a beeline for the city gates. If we stay here they'll bleed us dry or starve us out."

"I will not cower in the face of these butchers, Sergeant! Now spread my orders and get ready for a-!"

The man never finished his orders as I had rushed up behind him and hit him over the head with the butt off my rifle. Even in the middle of battle, you could hear a pin drop between us as the platoon sergeant stared at me in shock.

"Sir! The Lieutenant has taken a loose piece of brick to the back of the head. Command of the Platoon falls to you!"

I sucked in a breath and held the man's gaze for entirely too long before he seemed to get my meaning. "R-right… Medic! Get the medic over here! The LT got hit in the head by debris."

I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly retreated as the man started barking orders to prepare for a breakout.

I and the other grenadiers were ordered to prepare smoke grenades, and as I was the only one with the exceptionally rare grenade rifle, I was told to put a high explosive into the wall of the building across the street from the garrison's main exit.

After the Lieutenant was secured on a stretcher, the platoon sergeant put his plan into action, the other three grenadiers in the platoon threw their smoke grenades across the streets, each of them quickly covered the open ground with a thick layer of noxious smoke that would burn the lungs if inhaled but would cover our retreat. Once the smoke had blocked our actions from view I leaned around the garrisons wall during a lull in enemy fire and with a resounding thump, sent a grenade clear across the street.

I was met by a small explosion and the sound of crumbling bricks and snapping wood.

"Okay! First squad, you're first! Move it!"

I watched as those first ten troopers dashed out of cover into the open, relying on the smoke to cover them as they ran for the hole in the wall I'd hopefully created. The rest of the platoon waited in silence for them to cross. We heard the enemy weapons fire pick up for a second, probably guessing we would all rush their positions under the cover provided by the smoke.

We all breathed a collective sigh of relief when we heard their squad leader shout across the street. "Arrived!"

The Platoon sergeant nodded before looking at my squad. "Sullivan, you're next!"

I watched as the man nodded and quickly moved to get our squad ready to cross.

The Platoon lead gave us a countdown on his hand, when he reached zero, Sullivan responded with a loud, "Bounding!" As he rounded the corner and ran into the smoke. Since I was part of the maneuver team, and considered the senior riflemen, I was the second out of cover.

I took a deep breath and squinted my eyes nearly shut as we ran through the smoke, the burning thermite igniting agent still concentrated enough to hurt as we moved through it. I did my best to keep my head low as the sound of bullets whizzing past my head filled my ears. I hated this, without my magic I felt exposed in the middle of a gunfight, there was no second chance, no way to block an incoming round. If one rebel bullet hit me, even if it didn't kill me and just sent me tumbling to the ground, I'd be dead, as my squad would be forced to abandon me!

For a second everything became clear as I broke through the end of the smoke screen, I felt panic for a second before I opened my eyes and saw the gaping hole in the wall we'd created just feet in front of me. I also saw First Squad providing covering fire.

I dove to the ground as soon as I was through the hole, a bullet whizzing past where my head had been moments before as I scrambled and crawled across the floor to cover.

Finally finding safety behind a wall deeper in the building, I started taking in my surroundings. We had breached into what looked like some kind of old apartment building that appeared to be recently occupied by a family that was now absent. Looking back towards our entrance I saw that the rest of my squad had made it, though I did see Sheridan helping a limping Molly to the floor, she'd probably taken a bullet to her leg. While Sullivan and Johnson were making sure the rest cleared the entrance for the rest.

I allowed my head to rest against the wall and catch my breath as Second and Fourth squads made the crossing along with the command squad who were carrying the unconscious body of our 'esteemed' lieutenant.

"Alright everyone," said the Platoon sergeant, "we have to keep moving and avoid getting bogged down in urban fighting. I want Second squad leading, Third behind them. First and Fourth will bring up the rear. Let's move it, people!"

I dragged myself to my feet and fell in with the rest of my squad. My grenade rifle hanging by its sling by my side while I kept my SMG sweeping across any possible angle of attack as we moved through the old building.

Instead of further exposing ourselves to the enemy, we instead moved between buildings, either using access doors between them or making a hole when we couldn't find one using grenades.

As we moved I felt my hands start to shake. I hated this, I hated every second of it. Without my magic or any other force multiplier, I was left vulnerable. All it would take is one shot to kill me and unlike fights with the Brotherhood or raiders who had the decency to stand in the open out of either confidence or stupidity, these people were hiding and willing to ambush us rather than face us in the open. For all I knew the next door we walked through could be rigged with explosives.

"You okay Woodson?" I heard Sullivan ask. Snapping out of my shaky combat trance I looked at the man. He was looking back at me as we waited for First squad to clear the next room ahead of us.

"Yeah, just… what I saw back there has me shaken up. I'm fine, Sergeant." I partly lied. What I'd seen was gruesome and definitely showed how far these people would go if they got their hands on me. But I'd seen more gruesome sights in my second life, I'd even done some of them myself. But I couldn't let him know that I was afraid in the face of the enemy. This close to mustering out, assuming I survived this, could lead to a dishonorable discharge for perceived dereliction of duty, or even a psychological injury discharge, which would limit my options for economic opportunity in the civilian sector as no one wanted to work with someone they saw as mentally unfit. Even if I had secure employment when I went home, I'd be a liability to the company for quite a while. So I had to ensure Sullivan that I was mentally fit to serve still, and wasn't panicking deep down.

He didn't look wholly convinced but before he could press the issue, First squad signaled for us to move forward. As we came out into the building's front room I was met with the sight of dilapidated suburban housing sprawling out across the desert landscape and reclaimed farmland that dominated the city. And oddly enough we seemed to have evaded our attackers after only a couple city blocks.

"Something's not right…" I heard the Platoon sergeant say as he looked around for any possible hostiles

I considered his words, we escaped that ambush too easily and with no fatal casualties on top of that. And now we were staring out at open ground. "What if they wanted us here? To try and cross that open ground to regroup with the other platoons so they can shoot us in the open?" I said.

He seemed to consider my words. Before another trooper spoke up, his words rushed, and tripped over himself. "Another trooper from third platoon said Legion likes to let some people escape and tell people about what happened! They let us see the bodies of the garrison, and where else would the people have gotten those weapons from?! We disarmed this city years ago!"

I looked at the obviously panicking trooper and rolled my eyes before Sullivan spoke up, much to my surprise.

"That may be true sir." He said to the Platoon sergeant. "Woodson and I saw a message painted in blood on the officer's door. Something about the fate of profligates or something like that."

I considered that, and the more pieces people put together the more sense it made.

"So we were meant to escape, spread the word?" The platoon sergeant said.

We all kind of nodded in stunned agreement before the same panicky trooper spoke up. "If that's the case we should get out of here before they change their minds and we end up like those bodies hanging from the street lights!"

That seemed to set off a wave of panic as the rest of the platoon shouted to be heard, demanding we flee towards the city gate, save our own lives, and abandon our comrades.

The platoon sergeant and squad leaders were trying to restore order, but panic had the platoon in its grips. Panic that would get us killed, if not by the rebels, then by our own country for desertion in the face of the enemy.

I stood up and sucked in a lung full of air before I shouted with my best officer's voice. "IF WE RUN, THEN WE WILL BE SHOT FOR COWARDICE!"

The whole room went quiet, staring at me as the reality of our situation settled in. Incapacitating our Lieutenant for giving suicidal orders was one thing. Leaving our comrades to die when we could easily break them out of their encirclements was another. I was fairly confident the rest of the platoon would omit my rigging the scales of fate in our favor. The Captain and the command squad wouldn't overlook desertion.

The Platoon sergeant cleared his throat to get our attention before speaking. "She's right, if we leave our fellow troopers to die, at best we will be working in a correctional facility for the rest of our lives. At worst, they'll shoot us." He looked around the room to find every soldier calling for us to run was now averting their gaze, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Uh Uh. Specialist, radio, now." The platoon's long-range radio operator ran over to the Platoon lead, he in turn grabbed the phone off the back and started speaking.

"This is Platoon Sergeant Graves, second platoon. We managed to escape our attackers but the lieutenant is incapacitated, requesting orders."

He stood there for a moment, likely listening to the captain on the other end before he nodded his head. "Yes sir, I'll tell the men, we won't let you down." He put the radio phone back on the radio specialists pack before turning to us.

"The Captain wants us to try and render aid to the other platoons… we're gonna cross this field, using the taller crops for concealment. And attempt to save third platoon who are pinned down in the city hall." He looked at the few wounded amongst us. "Fourth squad, you'll guard the wounded and follow at a slower pace behind us, if enemy resistance is stronger than expected I want you to get the wounded out of the city and back to the Captain. The rest of us are going to sprint across. Are we clear?"

There was a weak chorus of affirmations from the rest of the platoon as they checked their gear and got ready to move.

I did much the same, checking my SMGs magazine and loading a fresh explosive round into my grenade rifle.

Before long, we were all squared away and our wounded prepared to move with fourth squad who would be our rear guard. The platoon command squad along with first squad would be the first to move, followed by my own, second squad, immediately after them.

We broke out from our cover at a sprint, running across the open ground between the apartment building we had taken cover in and the corn stocks that stood head over the shoulders of the tallest of us and concealed us from view of any potential snipers that may still have been waiting to catch us in the open.

Once in the corn, our visibility

became effectively nothing, forcing us to move in a single column trailing behind Platoon Sergeant Graves as we snaked our way toward the city's town hall.

The ground was rough, with lows between raised lines of dirt the actual corn stocks grew out of. The dry soil made it so the dirt was hard and acted as a tripping hazard if we didn't watch our feet. The situation was only made worse by the occasional mud puddle or damp spot that would throw off our footing from the last time these crops had been watered, slowing down our progress further, and leaving us exposed to potential enemy attack.

Fortunately, that potential attack never came, and by the time we were at the other end of the cornfield, we seemed to have gone completely unnoticed by the rebels we now found ourselves in the rear of.

As the rest of the platoon fanned out across the last two rows of corn, concealing themselves from any rebels smart enough to look behind them, I tried my best to see what we were about to shoot our way into the middle of. The first thing I saw was the pre war city hall standing in the middle of a patch of open ground, with gun firing being traded between it and the buildings around said clearing.

The second I could see, was that these guys were amateurs at best, they clearly didn't have any proper training, not even the four weeks we had before we were shipped out. That much was easy to figure out by the complete and utter lack of a picket line in their rear. With no rear guard, they had no one to warn them we were coming or hold us off until they could reposition.

Third was that this was an actual fight, while I could still hear the loud single cracks of heavy-bore rifle fire. I also heard the telltale pop cracks of our own semi-automatic service rifles firing away on both sides of the firefight, meaning these rebels had taken the garrison's weapons. This to me at least only further confirmed that we were meant to get away if they hadn't used any of our own weapons against 2nd platoon.

I quickly scooted back and informed Graves of what I'd seen and heard, and what I suspected they were armed with.

He looked at me for a second, probably not expecting anyone to take the initiative of recon, but he nodded none the less before waving the squad leaders over for an impromptu briefing.

"I want First squad to hold position, set up to cover us while I take Second and Third squads and cross this last bit of open ground before breaching the buildings on the north side of the government park. Sullivan, Hunsley, the specialist here says the rebels are still using whatever heavy-bore rifles they had before, but thinks she hears some of our own weapons mixed in with the rebels' fire. We'll have the advantage of volume of fire, but be ready for one of these bastards to pull an automatic on us. Get back to your squads and get them ready to move, we'll advance on my signal. Go"

I followed Sullivan back to the rest of Third squad and settled into a patch of damp soil next to Sheridan. I could still see the battle going on from here, but moving up the line to the north meant buildings were in the way now. The same buildings we were about to breach and clear out while facing an undetermined number of enemy combatants with unknown capabilities.

I took slow, deep breaths, keeping my nerves as steady as possible while we waited for the order to advance. Time seemed to crawl out over hours, as the adrenaline and fear combined to make time seem to lose meaning. Fighting like this without magic was nerve-wracking, even if my rational mind told me I was more experienced than even my comrades, much less these rebels, I still couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability.

Before my thoughts could spiral further, I heard Sullivan's radio click twice in rapid succession, the signal our company used to initiate a movement or attack when we didn't want to make too much noise.

After a quick nod from Sullivan, we rose up from the dirt as one, springing forward onto the open ground. The handful of seconds it took us to cross felt like an eternity as my eyes remained glued to the windows above us that any of these rebels could snipe us from. Thankfully the rebels I feared would spot us never materialized, as we got under the window's line of sight and the safety in the shadow of the building.

My shoulder impacted with the brick wall of the building as we all threw ourselves into cover. I looked up the line to see 3rd squad and the command squad up the wall next to us. I took a second to catch my breath as I watched Sergeant Graves take his command and 3rd squad further west, moving around the government park to take another building. While we had the one directly north of the city hall.

I readied my M1 SMG as Sullivan hefted his RCW. He motioned me over to him as we stacked up on the back door of the office building we were about to take. I readied a grenade as another trooper grabbed the door handle. Opening it slightly I pulled the pin and tossed the pineapple grenade inside. After a handful of seconds the buildings shook, sending bits of dirt and dust down over us as the small bomb went off. A second later the trooper opposite me threw open the door and immediately Sullivan was running through the door, RCW blazing away as soon as he was out of sight.

I followed him around the door, moving towards the corner opposite of me while the trooper on the other side of the entrance crossed behind me to get the other corner. Spotting movement not wearing one of our uniforms I immediately pulled the trigger, sending a trio of 9mm bullets into the prone form.

Within seconds the first room was clear. I looked at Sullivan as he moved towards a set of stairs that went up to the building's second floor, while I followed Johnson with the other half of the squad towards the front room. However I cast a look behind me at the figure I'd shot and saw it was rather small, but indeed had a gun. Were these people arming children and teenagers? What a waste of Human Resources. I thought as I quickly put what I'd done out of mine, blaming our enemies as I prepared another grenade to breach the front room.

In the same routine as before, I pulled the pin as Johnson worked the door, a few seconds later I heard it go off as a high-pressure zone whipped through the room and dust fell from the ceiling as we attempted to storm through into the front room, but before we could push into the front room a bullet hit the frame and ricocheted into the floorboards. The sound was deafening but it was only one shot. Figuring it had to be whatever slow-firing weapon it was these people used, I rushed forward, and sure enough behind an overturned metal table, I saw a man fumbling with the action of a rifle to reload.

He never got the chance, as I quickly raised my SMG and put three rounds into the man's chest and neck. As the man went down I twisted around to my left towards the door where I saw a man weakly sitting up with a captured M1 rifle.

My eyes went wide as time seemed to slow as I brought my SMG around. But not before his rifle barked and I felt an impact on my chest that sent me stumbling to the ground.

I was in a daze for what felt like hours, I faintly heard shouting and a trio of gunshots. Before I felt hands on me, tearing the broiled leather and steel chest plate off my body and shaking me.

My eyes snapped back into focus as I came out of my pain-induced haze. I saw the rest of the squad clearing the room, one man specifically bayoneting the man who shot me in the chest repeatedly. While above me I saw Sheridan looking for an entry wound on my chest and seemingly finding none.

I sat up, taking a deep gasp as pain shot through my chest, a broken rib maybe, and looked down at my chest plate to see a bulge in the back side of the leather, but no actual penetration. I stared at that little bump in a daze, considering how close I'd come to dying. Being X had said that I wouldn't get another life. But I was here somehow. So it wasn't impossible it could happen again… but at the same time I still couldn't remember how I'd died or how I'd wound up here… it could have been a fluke and if I died this time, that stupid parasite would find me and wipe my memories from my soul.

I was pulled away from my thoughts as someone grabbed my shoulder, looking up I saw Corporal Johnson looking down at me in concern.

Before he could say anything I brushed his hand off before grabbing it to pull myself up.

"I'm fine. Just give me a second to catch my breath." I said, sounding out of breath as I felt, I grunted with effort to push through the residual pain from being shot.

He gave me a look somewhere between relief and annoyance but nodded all the same. "Don't push yourself too much, even if that vest saved you, you still took a shot to your ribs."

I nodded, agreeing I should take it slow until I got my breath back. None the less we were still in combat, and I didn't have my armor on.

Turning to grab it I saw that Sheridan had already picked it up and was handing it back to me. "Be careful next time you Brat. We lose anyone else and our squads not going to be pulling its weight." He said in a less-than-serious manner

I could tell he was worried. Not that I could blame him since we were already down a man after losing Molly to an injury. If we lost anyone else our squad wouldn't be able to operate and would put the remainder at risk.

After strapping my chest plate back in, I quickly set up in one of the windows, placing my SMG down and shouldering my grenade rifle. From here I could see Third Platoon firing away at every building across from them, thankfully except ours and I suspected that was due to Sergeant Graves telling their commander what buildings we were going to take control of.

The rebels seemed to be mostly in an old rusted metal building to the east side that seemed like a courthouse or other government building. While to the west stood what I guessed was a school of some kind. But two hundred years of use and repurposing made it hard to tell.

I still heard gunfire from the floor above us, but that quickly died down not long after we had finished setting up our own positions.

I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable order to open fire and provide an opening for 3rd platoon. I heard Johnson's radio click repeatedly before he looked at me and nodded.

I nodded back before I sighted my grenade rifle in on one of the buildings across the open field on the east side across from the town hall. With a deep breath and slow exhale, I squeezed the trigger.

With a deep Thump, the forty-millimeter grenade was sent hurdling across the open government park. And with a loud BANG! The front of one of the rebel-held buildings exploded before the ancient brick metal wall of a long unused government building collapsed in on itself and the whole side of the building followed after it.

Seconds after the rest of the platoon opened fire, pouring semi and fully automatic rifle rounds, and in Sullivans case, lasers, into the metal government building on the east side and old school to the west.

The sudden volume of fire coming from our position seemed to have caught the rebels by surprise as gun fire from their positions seemed to dry up almost instantly.

While we continued to suppress the rebels, I saw a door fly open on the side of the town hall closest to us before a trio of troopers rushed out towards our position, before turning and taking security positions facing away from us. They were followed by more troopers helping or dragging wounded towards us.

"Tanya, put a round in the school building on the right!" I heard Sullivan say.

I quickly moved to reload my grenade rifle, placing a high explosive round in the tube before closing the break and shouldering the weapon. I adjusted my aim west before setting what I guessed the range was on the volley sight. With another thump I sent a grenade hurdling across the open ground and into the side of the old pre war school building. Sending the rebels inside into a panic, as I could see some of them scrambling to drag wounded away from the hole I'd made and find cover.

With another rebel position under fire and suppressed, I reloaded my rifle as I watched the stream of scared or wounded troopers moving to and past our positions. Going through and behind the buildings that we had just made our own way through.

Not wanting to waste more grenades. I lay my rifle down and retrieved my SMG, firing it in short bursts into the rebel held positions.

As we fired our weapons, I watched as the remnants of 3rd platoon finished filtering out of the town hall building and made their way across the open dusty ground. The last person I saw crossing had a scoped rifle in her hands.

Oh so Kylee survived. Figures she'd be able to pull through this, I thought to myself as I ducked down to reload after emptying the current magazine in my SMG.

"Alright everyone, that's the last of them. Pack up and be ready to move."

I quickly slung my grenade rifle over my shoulder, then grabbed my SMG again and turned to move towards the back room where the squad was rallying.

After we had fallen back and regrouped, the Lieutenant of 3rd platoon took command, thankfully he was actually competent and directed our platoon sergeant to continue leading us while we moved to relieve the last platoon pinned down by the rebels.

We hadn't taken any serious casualties once again, only a few minor injuries that could either be walked off or easily stabilized and evacuated.

After 4th platoon's siege in the water processing center was relieved it had become a running gun battle out of the city, as the rebels had finally reorganized after we had surprised them by actually coming back. We were rushing at this point and our commanders' willingness to use explosives meant not enough rebel forces could organize to stop us before we were either bypassing or pushing through their positions.

After we regrouped with 1st platoon and the command squad we pulled back to the bridge. Crossing the river and starting our march back to Search light. And about half way back we heard an explosion as the rebels blew the bridge to prevent anyone else using it to attempt to retake the city again.

When everything was said and done our company had suffered around 25% casualties, 4th platoon suffering the worst, with only a single squad being stood up from the survivors once we returned to base, the rest of the platoon either got medical leave or discharged.

I had received a broken rib and several bruised ones from where I had been shot in my chest plate, and in turn had been placed on light duties for the next few weeks. Something I certainly wasn't complaining about as it meant I was able to effectively just relax for the rest of my contract.

2276: May 25th

I walked up to the base's administration clerk and knocked on the desk between me and him.

He turned from where he was doing paperwork on a terminal and slid his chair over to me. "Hello Specialist, can I help you?"

"Yes sergeant, my contract is up today and I was told to come speak with you about getting my discharge papers."

He nodded and slid back to his terminal. "Name and serial number?"

I gave him my information quickly while I focused on my future, I'd finally be able to actually help run the company I co-owned. Start making real money and finally get the easy life I'd been chasing for three lives now!

"Your contract has been extended."

"WHAT?!"

The man flinched before quickly straightening up. "It says here the army extended your contract by six months, pending a major military operation in the summer."

I'd been stop-lost, they were going to keep extending my contract as long as they needed me… I'd probably never be able to muster out if they couldn't resolve the conflict here in the Mojave.

"Actually I have a dispatch for your company commander here."

He handed me the notice before quickly going back to his work. Looking at the dispatch I saw it was a transfer. We were going to the town of No-vac.