This Zone Is Ours
There was a rumble in the sky, the clouds twisting and bunching together above them. It was not the light grey smudge of a light rain, nor was it the thick dark grey, nearly black, clouds which heralded true thunderstorms. By now, anyone who had lived in a yellow zone for longer than a year could recognize the blinking lights and alien blooms and bursts of coloration that had no business being there. The way the clouds shifted was almost alive, alive with new gasses and elements that were not native to it. Already, there was bursts and crashes of static on the radar systems. As of yet, however, their communications arrays were still functioning, mostly, in that conversations could be held if one accepted constant drops and weak signals.
"I don't think you understand, we are
already under attack! Every day, I'm dealing with bikes and buggies skirting closer and closer, and those new artillery units the Brotherhood has are popping up more and more!" A dark-skinned man snarled into the comm, a lit cigar barely maintaining its integrity as a thick veiny fist clutched it.
He stood, loomed almost, over the console, his once jet-black beard now mostly white from age and stress. Heavy wrinkles covered his face, as did more than a few scars, all of which were twisting as his lips thinned together. He was not even wearing a regular uniform but had in fact donned the under-suit requisite for properly wearing power armor. That, as well as the large if archaic revolver hand cannon on his hip granted him a rather particularly aggressive air. All around him, base staff scurried back and forth, some of them typing furiously at their consoles, others rapidly conversing with different troops spread throughout the area. Opposite him, glancing through her viewscreen towards him with remarkable calm, was a man wearing a far more finely pressed uniform, his headset perfectly aligned, without even a fourth of the bags under his eyes that the angrier man did.
"And we are aware of that commander, but you know as well as I do that you've got an ion storm, category three by the way, imminent. We simply cannot make the transfer of the remainder of the crews and materials on a whim, if not agreed upon by the Treasury. They'll be thrown out of the sky."
Yusuf Escoffier growled, but whatever he meant to say next, he paused as he glared at the hastily approaching and well-exhausted communications officer.
"What?" He boomed.
"Commander Escoffier, sir," they saluted, which Yusuf curtly returned. "Patrols 1, 2, and 4 are all reporting heavy contacts."
The elder Frenchman's eyes narrowed, his former conversation partner now finally looking somewhat alarmed.
"How heavy?"
"More than just regular raiders, sir. It looks like they've busted out a lot of old scorpion tanks from…
somewhere, and…," they trailed off nervously.
"Speak up, lieutenant!" Yusuf barked.
"It's unconfirmed, but Captain Briggs swears he saw some…some walkers, sir."
Yusuf swore viciously, causing both other men to cringe and others in the base to look over.
"Avatars or Purifiers?" He half-shouted.
"We-we don't know!" The communications officer nearly yelped.
"Shit!" Yusuf whipped his head around. "Well, ensign, it looks like we might not be needing the last of the crews and materials after all."
"C-Commander Yusuf? I don't understand?"
Yusuf scoffed.
"Because that wily little bastard is making his move," he grunted, leaning close to the screen. "And it's highly likely that by the time this ion storm is over, either we'll all be dead…or he is."
He slammed the end call button and then shifted his fist over to do the same to the radio.
"Attention all troops! This is Commander Yusuf Escoffier! Nod is on the move! Get ready, children, because we're on our own out here!" He then turned back to the communications officer. "You, start getting the civilians inside the base. A favela is no place to die in a battle."
"B-but, sir? Where are we going to house them? We don't have nearly enough bunks to-,"
Yusuf laughed darkly as childhood memories of a truck trailer filled with refugees tipping over as tiberium-fueled rockets slammed into a caravan. The cigar in his hand finally gave up and crumpled to pieces as his hand clenched that much tighter.
"You'd be amazed at how many people you can stuff into a little space, lieutenant. We aren't housing them in permanence, we're just getting them out of the way. Now get to it! I've got a battle to fight."
High above, the ion storm rumbled as the very first of many lightning strikes began to strike the ground.
================================================================
There was a distinct difference between the methodical energies of an assembly line or factory inside a blue zone and the frantic, almost manic workings of a facility that was a few minutes shy of being attacked by Nod. Below the earth, on absolutely enormous rotating platforms, lay a considerable number of the super-heavy vehicle known as Super MARVs in varying stages of completion. Three of them were complete, all three sections properly hooked up, its guns complete, and all six modular hardpoints prepped and ready. In fact, by the time Yusuf got down there, now completely ensconced in his armor, his orders had proceeded him well enough such that troopers were loading themselves up into the hardpoints or were otherwise rushing out of their barracks and bunks towards their respective points. Or at least, that was going on for two of them. It was the third that he was heading towards now, heavy thumps accompanying each footstep as he barreled forward just under a full run.
"Hey! Saladin! Where are you, you-," Yusuf came to a screeching – literally, his armor's boots scraping the ground to halt his forward momentum. "Are you serious?
Now?"
In front of him, the chief engineer of the assembly teams sent by ZOCOM command did not acknowledge him until he finished his prayers and rose up from his mat.
"Now, of all times when we may all be about to die? Absolutely," the man replied, his own skin slightly duskier than Yusufs. "Now, what do you need from me?"
"This tank," Yusuf said bluntly, jerking his thumb at the silent but fully assembled Super MARV.
At that, the engineer's serene expression cracked, his craggy brow lifting up bushy white eyebrows.
"Excuse me?"
"The ion storm and some kind of logistical mess-up that could be from Nod for all I care kept the last of the crews from getting here," Yusuf grunted out, his railgun creaking ever so slightly under his grip.
Saladin sputtered.
"Wha-wh, Yusuf, I am not a tank driver, or commander, or-or pilot or any of these things!"
Both men had to brace themselves as something struck the earth nearby, something which exploded. Followed by several others. Deep down in the MARV bay, the sounds of battle were still very, very faintly audible.
"You build these things?" Yusuf glared down at the shorter man. "Do you not?"
"I – yes, but-,"
"You've built these things inside and out? Different fleets, different models, different parts of the world?"
"Yusuf-,"
"Saladin," the commander placed a heavy hand sheathed in metal on the engineer's shoulders. "The people need you. If command wishes to punish me for breaking regulations, so be it, but right now, I need someone – a group of someones – who know these things well enough to drive them. We don't have anyone else."
Saladin gulped, before firming his shoulders and nodding.
"Very well. We'll…we'll begin the activation sequence."
Yusuf smiled, though the grin was obscured by his helmet.
"Good man. You'll go third, so you have time to get everything ready." Then he turned and activated his radio. "Venkman! Shiori! Let's get going already!"
"Yes, commander!" The leaders of the two actual certified Super MARV teams responded simultaneously.
Instantly, they began driving forward towards the elevator which, unfortunately, could only accommodate one of them at a time. It was Captain Venkman's Super MARV,
Red Betty, who made it there first. The elevator immediately began lifting, pneumatics hissing and groaning under the weight as several zone troopers scramble atop it as well, joining their commander. The higher the elevator went, the louder the sounds of battle became. The sound of the sonic cannon warming up was almost deafening. Yusuf then turned to the rest of his fellow troopers. They had, thankfully, all been updated to the new suits by ZOCOM command and the confusing little man sitting the big chair at the Treasury, but it remained to be seen if that would be enough in the here and now.
"All right, children," Yusuf called out, getting many heads turning his way. "It looks like Nod has decided that they want us off their premises. And they're willing to slaughter their way through a camp of thousands of innocents to do it. Not, of course, that we're any stranger to Nod's monstrosities, eh?"
A resounding answer of angry negatives answered him. Some of them were hefting their railguns or sonic grenade launchers, almost shaking them over their heads in sheer savage fury.
"We know what Nod wants. We've seen it when we've gone into the reds! That's the world they want! That's the world we're trying to stop from coming into existence! What this very camp is built to do! And they want to destroy it! Are we going to let them, troopers!?"
"SIR, NO SIR!"
"DAMN STRAIGHT!" Yusuf roared.
The elevator reached the top, its gigantic metal doors sliding downwards to reveal a roaring battlefield. What looked like whole clouds of militants with rifles or rockets were swarming towards them out of the hills, while columns of scorpions and buggies pushed forward. Here and there were teams of rocket bikes spewing their tiberium-augmented missiles at every hard target they could find. As of yet, they hadn't breached past the first outer limits of the favela, the towers that Yusuf had fought hard to get installed holding them back with the rest of his forces. Now, however, it was impossible to miss that they were right next to a priority target. Especially as Captain Venkman thumbed the speaker system, his normally willowy voice bass boosted heavily until it barely sounded human.
"
SUPER MARV ONLINE!"
"LET'S GIVE THEM THE HELL ON EARTH THEY WANT, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!" Yusuf bellowed as he triggered his rocket pack. "ILS NE PASSERONT PAS!"
He ascended into the heavens to be temporarily wreathed in contrails of ion storm electricity sparking before descending back to earth directly on top of a Nod buggy shooting at some of his infantry. His heavy power armor slammed through its bullet-resistant glass and each leg turned the torsos of the two crew inside the vehicle to super-heated chunks of meat as his thrusters fired to control his descent into them. Turning slightly, he fired his railgun into the front wheel of a passing rocket bike, tearing it apart and sending the bike and rider both flipping head over heel into a scorpion tank's treads. All around him, the rest of the zone troopers and zone raiders arrived, firing relentlessly out into the enemy.
==========================================================
"
Red Betty's gotta retreat, Commander, any more hits like that and she'll crack like an egg!" Venkman's panicked voice rang out through the radio.
"She's already got enough already," Yusuf coughed as he dragged himself out of the crater that had been left behind by the missile that had nearly killed him. "Pull her back some but keep the left flank clear as best you can while the drones get to work. Shiori?"
"Death Blossom's okay!" The quaver in the woman's voice betrayed the confidence her words were meant to have.
"It
is okay," a third voice entered the channel, one thick with almost audibly sweaty nervousness, "It will be okay!"
The doors to the assembly bay opened up, and finally their third Super MARV joined the battle. Almost immediately, the Nod forces pivoted once more, concentrating fire and effort as best they could. The incredibly fanatic troops that the Brotherhood always seemed to have on hand even willingly crossed killing fields and no man's lands to try and launch just one more rocket or barrage onto the new super heavy on the field. Yusuf coughed again and glared at the red splatter on the inside of his helmet which had just emerged from his throat. He glanced down and frowned at the jagged piece of metal that had somehow stabbed him in the side. How had he missed that?
"Uh, Commander! Yusuf!" Saladin's thready voice made him look up. "Walkers!"
Yusuf cursed again as he saw them. Worse, they were not Purifiers like he'd hoped. It wasn't that the more primitive versions weren't deadly, they could be incredibly horrifying for urban combat, such as a favela if he hadn't had it evacuated inside the base. The problem was that these were Avatars, and he could see by the way the beams double-lensed and focused to begin melting the remaining tanks he had on hand as well as hit the Super MARVs that they'd been upgraded with 'help' from some of their mobile beam cannons. He glanced back down at the metal in his side, and growled again.
"I'm on my way, Saladin. You hold position, you hear me?"
"I…yes! We will hold our ground. For goodness sake Samantha fire the cannon!"
"Y-yes Chief! I've just never-!"
"Press the button!"
The sonic cannon boomed out, and for a wonder the squirrely engineer who'd been placed behind the gun managed to hit one of the Avatars right in the legs, tearing the two spindly limbs apart and making them crash to the ground. Yusuf grinned through reddened teeth at that and began moving again.
"This is Commander Escoffier. I need some volunteers to accompany me. Those walkers need to go down.
Today."
The problem being, of course, that the walkers were not being simply pushed to the forefront as they might have been during the Third Tiberium War. No, the Nod commander was being conservative with the incredible powerful, and dangerously versatile, walkers. Probably because they no longer possessed the resources or facilities to mass-manufacture them like the used to. Yusuf hoped. Instead, the walkers were surrounded by supporting tanks and troops. But that didn't matter. Not to Yusuf. Not today. Nor did it matter to the groups of zone troopers and zone raiders that were joining him, joining into his command link the moment they got close enough. They knew the score, just like he did.
"Well, children. One last time, for GDI and for Earth, eh?" He chuckled wetly as they all began pushing forward, jump jets activating as one.
"COME OOOOOOOOOOOOOON!" He roared, red flecking onto the insides of his helmet as he held down the trigger on his railgun from in the air.
All around him, the rest of his children did the same. Railguns fired again and again, power armored soldiers crashing down amongst the enemy. Sonic grenades thumped and fired as shoulder-mounted missile racks emptied themselves. Like a beast, Yusuf fought. His power armor let him backhand a screaming militant with enough force to decapitate, his boots could snap their legs like twigs, and his rifle thrummed in his hand again and again as he fired it. Tanks exploded, and men died. Not all of them Nod, either. An Avatar quite simply stepped on one, while another picked a zone raider up and planted the tip of its flamethrower into their face, the woman's scream audible for a single second before the fire overwhelmed. Yusuf fought on, picking up a second railgun up from a zone trooper that had been shot apart by tanks and began firing them one-handed. One zone raider managed to detonate her entire sonic grenade payload on a suicide rush at one of the Avatars, blowing a hole through its chest and out the back which killed its cybernetically linked pilot. Yusuf never stopped moving, his jump jets pushing him up and down, letting him get shots out in almost every direction.
Even the ion storm was joining the fun, moving into an even more intensive phase than before, massive lightning strikes striking the ground all around them. Neither side could afford to even try to use their air forces, and frankly even using the jet jumping capabilities of his armor was pushing it, all things considered. But Yusuf didn't care. He stumbled to the side as a lightning strike took out a scorpion tank right next to him but struggled to his feet and fired his two railguns at tank that had managed to run over a zone trooper who was still moving. He was knocked over then as a pair of militants leapt on top of him, stabbing down with knives and desperately trying to find any soft spot they could.
"KANE LIVES!" One shouted at him, eyes bloodshot and teeth cracked and yellowed right into his visor.
"YOU WON'T!" Yusuf yelled back and grabbed the militant by the throat and squeezed hard enough to hear a snap, dropping his second railgun to do so. The second militant didn't last much longer than that either, swung by their legs directly into a burning tank wreck hard enough to kill them through blunt trauma alone.
"Commander! Get down!" Saladin's voice came from strangely far away, but Yusuf complied nonetheless, throwing himself downwards as the tell-tale sounds of tri-barreled sonic cannons firing filled the air.
When Yusuf popped, or rather worked harder than he expected to rise, having to support himself on the same burning tank wreck with some twitching militant's legs sticking out of it, he beheld the devastation left behind. The Nod forces had been too distracted by their attack, by the looks of it, and the Super MARVs had taken advantage of it to truly sight in their weapons. Their precise aim had wreaked havoc amongst the zealots while a great many more ZOCOM forces were still up and at them.
"Hah! I knew you had it in you, Saladin!" He crowed and stumbled forwards, growling as his legs wobbled beneath him. "Continue the attack! I don't want these scum getting away!"
ZOCOM troops shouted assent as the ion storm continued to rage, and by now more GDI tanks were managing to push up through the ruined remains of the favela and attack the grudgingly retreating enemy. Several zone raiders were jumping ahead, just as he'd taught them, to try and get at the slower moving Nod artillery before they disappeared, escaped, or both. That the two were not mutually exclusive anymore thanks to their damn stealth systems was just one more annoyance. He'd really need to request an upgrade on the scanner packs they were assigned, on range if nothing else. Squinting, he glared up at the skies as the ion storm was starting to quiet itself. It was already fading out of existence entirely, the clouds that made it up its body dissipating utterly like ion storm clouds sometimes could. He needed to get some air defenses out, if only because Nod might try to use some venoms to...to...
"Nng," he grunted as slumped back against the burning tank and found himself staring the fallen head of one of the Avatars, wires still sparking as its own internal lights began to dim.
It felt like he was forgetting something…
"Oh. Right," he said hazily. "Medic! Dying, I think. Just…follow…transponder."
Yusuf slumped to the ground amongst the dead and the dying, and he wasn't quite sure which he was when the darkness took him.
======================================================================
"...and if it were not for the Commander's aggressive defense of our base, I do not think we would have survived by the time that the remainder of the Super MARV crews and materials arrived. And, on a personal note, his heroic deeds in forcing the enemy away from bombarding our forces and focusing instead on himself and his volunteers went above and beyond the call, and his valor should stand as an example to all members of ZOCOM and GDI. What do you think?" Saladin asked quietly, not looking up at his notepad.
"I think it sounds shit," Yusuf wheezed from his medical bed. "Don't put that in there. They'll promote me again and stick me behind a desk somewhere in a blue zone. I was born in a yellow zone, I have fought my whole career in them, excepting some parts where I was fighting in a blue or a red, and I aim to die in one."
Saladin gave a quiet laugh.
"Of course, Commander. I should tell you, the Hub's defenses have been increased as per your orders, and some of our troops are helping the civilians with rebuilding their housing."
"Good. Get Venkman and Shiori out and and clearing Tib," Yusuf leaned back onto his bed, wincing as his stitches pulled slightly. "This is our zone. Nod can't have it. Tib can't have it. Understood?"
"Of course, Commander."
"And tell me if any Nod are getting close!" The man who was medically barred from even light combat for the next few weeks shouted as Saladin left the medical bay. "I've still got my pistol, and - shit!" He cut himself off as several concerned nurses appeared from seemingly nowhere. "Away, vultures! Away! Ils ne -ghk!"