Les Partisans (Franerri Partisans/Galra)

[callmedelta]

Galran air base, occupied Franerre, 0124 hours, Mynti 24th.

Guy poked his head up from the grass, looking up at the full moon. It was hard to estimate distances, even with the light from the moon, but this was as close as he would risk getting to the Galran base. He slung his rifle off his shoulder, aiming the Ilucile at the Galran soldier manning the watchtower. The spotlight the Galran was manning swung in Guy’s direction. Guy ducked down, both to avoid being spotted and to avoid losing his night vision. There were two guard towers at this edge of the air base. The base itself consisted of a large runway with hangars on either side, with a much larger cluster of buildings at the side of the airbase facing the road. Most importantly for Guy and his squadmates, the side close to the road held the base’s armory and munition’s storehouse. A bunch of Franerri partisans raiding a base to steal arms and munitions was to be expected. The theory was that would leave the Galrans open to the real prize the partisans were after -- torching the Galran planes. All they needed now was a signal to start.

Everyone heard the echo of the mortar firing, followed shortly after by the explosion somewhere inside the base. That Galran mortar was the most firepower Guy and his fellow partisans had. For it, they had a grand total of five, now four, shells, and no idea how to actually aim the thing. While the shot may not have done any damage, it did draw attention, and that was the point. It was soon followed by the staccato of rifle fire, the alarm being raised all across the base and drawing all attention to Guy’s south. Someone started a staol generator, and more lights went up across the base, adding to the noise. Guy exhaled, then took his shot. He had 24 bullets now, but Guy had made his first one count, at least. He had been the best shot in his unit down in Tafatu, and the same skills served him here. As he lowered the rifle to cycle the round, he spared a glance to the direction of Ariane and her target. Sure enough, there was a Galran slumped over in the other watchtower. Supposedly the woman had never shot before joining the partisans, but with how natural of a shot she was Guy seriously doubted that claim.

Guy took off at a low run, spotting the forms of Ariane, Melanie, and Rainier moving in the dark as well. Ariane had an Ilucile as well, Rainier had the partisan’s only captured Galran submachine gun and a hand grenade, and Melanie carried the group’s demolition equipment -- a satchel of Okeema Gin that Guy had taught the partisans how to prepare along with a lighter, another hand grenade, a revolver, and a pair of wire cutters. Rainier was the first to reach the barbed wire, followed shortly by Melanie. She was most of the way through the wire by the time Ariane and Guy arrived. Another mortar shell dropped, and this time Guy saw it landed on the runway. Didn’t seem to cause that much damage, unfortunately. Guy could see soldiers beginning to pour from a building at the other end of the base -- that must be their barracks. Thankfully, none of them seemed to notice Guy’s group. He couldn’t see much of what was going on at the other end, but it looked like the other group of partisans made it inside and were almost at the armory. Guy and Ariane watched down the main stretch of the base, while Rainier watched around the other side and Melanie waited for Guy’s signal.

Guy nodded to Melanie, and she threw the first bottle high, aiming for the roof. It exploded against the hangar, and flames began to lick at the building. There were eight of the hangars, and now one was burning. Unfortunately for Guy and the partisans, that was about the same time as another group of Galrans came out of the barracks, and this definitely caught their attention. Guy sent a shot their way trying to stop the group from organizing, and Ariane soon followed suit. Unfortunately for them, the nearest cover to the barracks put them on the same side as Guy and his group. The hangars weren’t bunched up close together -- if the Galrans caught Guy’s group out in the open light as they moved between them they’d be dead in seconds.

He made a split second call. “Reiner, Melanie!” Guy barked, “Ariane and I will distract the Galrans on this side. On my signal, run to the other side of the airstrip and burn the hangars down there. Rainier, let me see your grenade.” The man handed it to Guy. “I’ll tell you when I see the Galarns on this side. If you see the Galrans over there, just start shooting and don’t worry about running.” Orders given, Reinier and Melanie swapped places with Ariane, who came to kneel by Guy. The flames were beginning to reach the upper part of the hangar walls now. Guy didn’t know how much longer he could use the hangar as cover. He hopefully wouldn’t need that much longer. Guy and Ariane let off a pair of shots, but this time the Galrans were organized enough to return with much more fire of their own. “Go!” Guy shouted, and the pair were off.

Guy peeked his head around the corner, letting off a wild shot. He could feel the heat from the fire now. He wouldn’t have much longer before their cover was a burned wreck. The Galrans were close, but if they turned tail now, the Galrans would just catch them in the open as they tried to get to the other side. Guy bit his lip. “Ariane,” Guy said, quieter, but still authoritative. The pair locked eyes. He slid off his rifle, handing it to Ariane along with his ammo.

“Guy, what are you --”

“We need time,” Guy answered. “If I die, I don’t want us to lose any equipment if I can help it. Now get ready to go!” He raised his voice, making it clear he wasn’t looking for an argument. Guy turned away, waiting for the Galrans to get just that bit closer. It didn’t take the Galrans long. Bullets whizzing by, Guy pulled the pin, stepped out of cover, and lobbed the grenade at the Galrans. He didn’t overstay his welcome, hearing the explosion go off as he turned to run back to Ar--

~

Reiner heard the crack of the glass bottle and woosh of the flames. The second hangar was on fire. He waved the waiting Melanie over, taking a step around the side of the hangar. He was just as surprised as the group of Galrans to see them there. Reiner reacted first, holding down the trigger on his SMG and firing wildly into the group of Galrans as he backed up. He saw spurts of blood from three of the seven men, but his gun emptied before he could get more. Reiner ducked around the corner of the hangar, trying to reload the Galran gun. He’d served his conscription time in the Army, but this gun was a different beast than an Ilucile. Reinier got the magazine loaded just as he noticed a small object land near his feet. Reinier bent down and scooped up the grenade, turning the corner to see the remaining four Galrans. He tossed the grenade towa--

~

Melanie peeked around the side of the burning hangar. Reiner was dead, and so were the Galrans. Taking a hurried look around to ensure there weren’t any more, Melanie stepped over the bodies and hurried towards the third hangar, fumbling with the lighter and the Gin as she did. She was a little over halfway between the hangars when Melanie’s hands fumbled, and she dropped the lighter in the satchel. The bottles didn’t go off immediately, but two of the rags caught fire. Melanie slipped the satchel off her shoulder, hammer-tossing it at the last hangar. It ended up short of the hangar itself, but the resulting fire was large enough that the building might catch anyway. Melanie didn’t intend to stick around to find out.

She ran back to the second hangar in time to see Ariane, laying on the ground in a pool of blood. Melanie started towards her. “No!” Ariane shouted. Ariane seemed to look around the area, before gesturing to a fallen rifle nearby. She dug in her satchel for some ammo, tossing it at the gun. “Take those and go! I’ll just slow you down.”

Melanie didn’t know if Ariane was lying or not. Maybe she could have taken Ariane with her. Instead of entertaining the thought any longer, Melanie sprinted towards the wire. She cut a hole, and ran away into the darkness.

~

Ariane sprinted as fast as she could towards the now-burning second hangar, awkward with the extra weight in her arms. She was halfway there when bullets began to whiz by her. Ariane was almost there when a lucky shot tore through her calf. Ariane folded, falling to the ground as her leg burned. She grit her teeth, rolling over to see who’d shot her. A pair of Galran soldiers, likely ones who were trying to flank Ariane and Guy. She lined up a shot on the first, straight in the middle of his chest. The other Galran missed his first shot, and Ariane worked through the pain and the blood loss to make sure he didn’t get a second chance. Cycling the bolt again, she found her own gun empty, and picked up Guy’s. The battle seemed to be wrapping up. The rest of the partisans were beginning to pull out, and Guy’s group would have to join them if they didn’t want to make this a suicide mission. Ariane looked back to where Guy should have been. Nothing. She looked to where Reinier and Melanie should have been, only to find Melanie alone. This was turning into a suicide mission after all.

Melanie started towards her. “No!” Ariane shouted. Ariane looked around the area, ensuring there weren’t any more Galrans around. The coast was clear, for now. She waved a hand to her own empty rifle, before thinking about it and tossing some ammo as well. “Take those and go! I’ll just slow you down.” Mercifully, Melanie listened, taking the supplies and running.

Now, it was just Ariane left. She was bleeding out, she knew she wouldn’t make it. Ariane gave Melanie most of her ammo, but at least this way she could take pot shots at whichever Galrans were unlucky enough to start putting out the fires. Speak of the devil, Ariane lined up a shot at the Galran approaching the hangars with a water bucket. She lined up the shot and pulled the trigger, but it was luck that made the shot connected more than anything. Ariane’s hands were beginning to grow slow, and it took her far longer than she liked to cycle the rifle. Ariane’s vision was growing blurry, too.

There wasn’t any sense in dragging it out. With muscles growing more uncooperative by the second, Ariene positioned the rifle so the barrel pointed to her forehead. Her hands fumbled around at the trigger for a moment befor--

[Greywall]

Galran losses

18 aircraft 10 lancer fighters 8 medium bombers

60 light infantry. Loss of fuel and supplies for air squadrons operating against the Marse defense.

[callmedelta]

The warehouse was filled with nervous excitement. Tonight was the final night of planning. The cell had everything they needed -- Jameson’s schedule, knowledge of the terrain, and even two Galran mortars and enough ammunition and training with them to be effective. All they needed now was a concrete plan. Twenty men and women, some of the revolution's finest, all gathered to kill one man. Jameson, the Butcher. They’d be gathering with two other cells for manpower once it was time for the attack itself, but they wouldn’t be involved with the planning.

Marianne laid a map of the vineyard out on the table, the road leading to the vineyard of particular importance. This one in particular, the Corteaux Vineyard, happened to be nestled in some rolling hills with light wood cover. Perfect ambush territory. The list of Jameson’s known security measures had been compiled -- professional soldiers sweeping through the route the day before assisted by spotter planes. Armored car and halftrack escorts, though Jameson’s own car wasn’t armored. They had one week before the attack itself was to take place.

“The road’s thin enough that we can use our artillery to knock out the lead armored car,” Marianne said, pointing to the road on the map. “Once we hit the last car, we can trap Jameson inside.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to wait until they’re at the vineyard itself?” Matthieu asked. “I’d imagine hitting a moving target, even if they’re on a predictable pattern, is hard. We don’t have the ammo, or the opportunity to waste missing a shot.”

“The hilly terrain flattens out near the vineyard, though,” Marianne said. “That means we’ll either need to place our troops in riskier positions, or give Jameson and his men a longer time to recover after the explosion. We need to hit hard and fast. Even if the first shots on the road miss, we --”
Marianne was interrupted as a figure burst through the door to the warehouse. Guns were drawn, though no one shot as they realized it was only Christine. She shut the door behind her, dragging a crate in front of it. “Galrans!” she said, loud enough to have force, but quiet enough not to alert anyone outside the warehouse. ‘Shit,’ Mariane thought. ‘Shit shit shit shit shit. Now, of all times?’ Marianne’s group had stocked up a lot of firepower in preparation for this operation. There was no way they could get it all out. At the very least, the only physical documents were those on the table in front of Marianne. Everything else about the group was kept in her head.

“Grab everything you can carry and get to the back door!” Marianne ordered. There were only twenty people here. Twenty skilled, brave individuals, but numbers had a way of invalidating all of that. If the Galrans were smart, they could have Marianne’s group surrounded with a hundred people. She didn’t want to gamble on the enemy being stupid. She grabbed Mattieu’s arm with one hand, scooping up the papers with the other. “Help me sabotage the artillery. I don’t think we can get them out of here, but I don’t want to give the Galrans anything. With any luck, we can get the ammo to cook off and take down the buildings with the Galrans inside.” Mattieu nodded, and the two made their way to the ammunition locker. A loud thud came from the door. The crate held for now, but it wouldn’t forever.

“Galra! Open door!” came the muffled shouting in broken Franerri from the other side of the door. The artillery and ammo was on the other side of the warehouse from the exit. Another thud. Marianne and Mattieu stopped three fourths of the way to the ammo locker, turning to the back entrance. They weren’t going to have time to set that ammo off. The third thud shoved the crate far enough out of the way, and the fourth broke the door down entirely. Galran men with guns came flooding into the room, taking wild potshots at Marianne and Mattieu. They made it to the door, Marianne holding the door for Mattieu. The leader always had to make sure they were the last one out, after all. And unfortunately for Marianne, one of the Galran bullets struck true. It pierced Marianne center-mass, and suddenly she couldn’t feel her legs anymore. She sank to the ground, groping at her side for her revolver through the pain. She had just barely managed to get a wild shot into the floor below her before another Galran shot ended Marianne’s life.

[callmedelta]

The Wocherwal Raid -- Act 1: Border Hopping

Near the Franerri-Wocherwal Border

“How’s our weapons and supplies?”

“Most of what we have is captured Galran kit and rations topped off by whatever we can scrounge. Rations are bland as shit, but they’re livable. We’ll ditch the rest of our Franerri kit whenever the fighting first starts, we won’t have ammo for long. We’ve got enough heavy winter gear to make things unpleasant outside, opposed to inhospitable”

“Maps of Wocherwal?”

“Franerri civilian maps from before the war have major towns and rail lines mapped out. We’ve been able to scout out border crossings to find a good point of attack, as well as where the Galrans are routing most of their supplies through. Beyond that, it’s a crapshoot.”

“Explosives?”

Lance sighed. This was the area where this expedition was most lacking. “Enough for three, maybe four good sized bombs. If we want to do serious damage long-term, we’ll have to scavenge for more.”

“Very well then,” Nicodeme said, “We have what we have. At the very least, we were blessed to find these four intact and unharmed.” Nicodeme removed the tarp, showing off the Galran radio sets. Instant communication like this was something none of them had ever seen before. “One set for Jeanne, one for Eveline, one for Gustav, and one for Lance.” He replaced the tarp, and Nicodeme broke with his lieutenants. They could handle it. He had a speech to give.

~

Nicodeme Chevalier looked at the gathered crowd. They packed the barn to the brim, 1,537 souls in total. Each and every one of them devoted to the cause of vengeance. The operation could have used another week to plan and gather supplies, but that was time Nicodeme didn’t have. The Galrans were breathing down his neck, and if they delayed any longer to gather men and material they’d be discovered. This wouldn’t be a simple battle, a hit-and-run and then disperse. No, this was a suicide operation, and everyone here knew it.

Nicodeme climbed to the straw bales stacked at the end of the barn, claiming his makeshift stage. “Brothers and sisters, the time is upon us!” Nicodeme declared. The crowd erupted in an Oo-rah!, guns and fists lifted in the air to salute. Nicodeme felt a fire in his soul, more than any before. Jeanne was right -- his skills had been wasted in the pulpit. “Today, we march to Wocherwal. We forsake everything except each other and Franerre!” Oo-rah! “There will be no surrender, and we will take no prisoners. The only thing we shall take is Galran lives! We will burn our way through Wocherwal for our family and countrymen slaughtered!” Oo-rah! “Onward, then! Form up in your cells and squads. Today, we march!”

~

The full moon shone brightly in the open sky. Nicodeme let out a breath, the air fogging and ascending to heaven. He had each of his lieutenants beside him. Nicodeme was the heart of the operation, the idea and the inspiration. Eveline was the brains, the military genius and one of the Contremaitre’s best, according to her. Gustav was the logistics, the stomach that the army marched on. Lance was the explosives expert, the hands that crafted Galra’s demise. Jeanne was Nicodeme’s wife in all but name, and his rock.

The five of them stayed back, combined with a few fighters meant to guard the supplies that couldn’t be taken into battle. The border crossing that was being raided was a smaller one. Even then, it could prove some trouble -- two machine gun positions watched over a flat expanse of plains with open sightlines for 500 meters, where the land began to dip down to a creekbed that the majority of the operation’s fighters laid in wait. The rest of the outpost consisted of a small bunkhouse that the rest of the soldiers assigned to the border crossing would be staying at, combined with a few more Galrans milling about on other duties. A group of 20 men and women had gone forward, crawling on their hands and knees with bandoliers of grenades to neutralize the positions. The machine gun positions had lit fires to keep warm and illuminate their positions, but it ruined their night vision.

Nicodeme watched through a pair of binoculars, the metal cold against his face. The squads were close, almost within range of the flickering firelight. Nicodeme watched, hoping in his heart the plan would go off without a hitch. It did. Two almost simultaneous explosions engulfed the two machine gun positions. That was the rest of the partisans’ signal to charge. The initial squad of 20 closed to inside the perimeter of the border checkpoint, knives, pistols, and bayoneted rifles brandished in the light. The battle didn’t last long -- the checkpoint couldn’t have had more than 30 soldiers total. Each and every one of them was killed, their equipment taken, and the checkpoint burned. They were in Wocherwal now -- no turning back.

Nicodeme pressed his group of partisans on. He wanted a place to rest away from the main road, in case more Galran soldiers showed up. His scouts reported what he was looking for in the early hours of the next morning, before the sun rose. A small isolated farmstead, much like the one where the operation had begun. Nicodeme sent a squad to secure it, killing the family inside. His soldiers would have a place to rest for the next day at least somewhat away from the cold. The cattle and goats belonging to the farmstead would all be slaughtered for food, and when the partisans were ready to leave the next day, they torched the farmstead behind them. Now, the turned southeast to the town of Kingsly, the furthest east the Galran rail connection went. That was where most of the supplies for the Galran war effort went through, and it was the group’s first target.