Fratricide's Nightmare

What's the most headache-inducing situation during a military op? A vastly outnumbered enemy force? Unfavorable terrain? Being surrounded? Short on supplies? A CO who calls in danger close artillery like it's breakfast? They're all shitty, sure, but you can grit your teeth and push through. But there's one thing you'll never get used to: when civilians and hostiles are all mixed up together. Like in Gohung right now. And to top it off, most of the Gohung garrison were just being forced into fratricide against their own people.

'Should we just bail?'

'Keep it down. If that Staff Sergeant overhears, we're 100% fucked.'

'Fighting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠monsters is bad enough, but now we're gonna catch bullets too.'

Woosungdae had overheard that convo between some grunts by chance. Smart of him to play dumb even after catching wind of their desertion plot. There are times to step in and times to stay the hell out. A cadre's barking can inspire fear and obedience in one scenario, but in another, it just sparks a "quiet plan." Officers who couldn't tell the difference got weeded out early in the Infection War.

Anyway, in a catastrophe like this, grunts aren't gonna swallow the idea of shooting their fellow Koreans over some power grab.

"The officers run daily indoctrination sessions, but no dice. These kids are too sharp for that crap," Woosungdae said.

Just like he said—no way that works on conscripts with a 70% college entrance rate. From what I gleaned of the content, it was all propaganda praising the Gohung garrison's legitimacy and calling for a smackdown on the "rebel scum illegally occupying Yeosu." They tried wrapping it in logic, but bullshit is bullshit.

"The problem is most of 'em are still holding post."

"Tough to bail from Gohung right now. Fear, better food and beds, family or buddies tied to the unit. Plenty of reasons keeping the troops stuck."

This ain't the old days with strict separation between bases and civvie zones. More like medieval manors or primitive cave communes—somewhere in between. Civilians digging ditches alongside soldiers for subcontract gigs because they're short on diapers or canned goods. Grunts and civilian women shacking up in base tents like newlyweds. Kids and geezers with cleaning gear piled into the beds of military trucks driven by troops. Standard sight in any southern garrison.

Artemis said it with a smirk. She meant saturating their command post with heavy airstrikes.

"And I'd go down as the worst mass murderer since the Infection War. A bunch of troops who just didn't wanna fight a few ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rotten officers, plus way more civilians, all going up in flames. Real Plan Fucked ending."

"Who're you talking to, sir?" Woosungdae asked, puzzled.

"Oh, you can't hear her? Artemis, speaker mode?"

"Huh?" My dumbfounded voice slipped out at the blunt refusal.

I shrugged at Woosungdae, who was staring at me like I had question marks floating over my head.

"Just chatting with my base's operator. Total haughty bitch, acts like she owns the place."

I brushed off Artemis's indignation.

"A base, huh..." Woosungdae's eyes flicked to the robots. "That mysterious inland force everyone's whispering about?"

I just nodded without a word.

"Makes sense. With those terrifying soldiers backing you up, surviving up north ain't impossible."

"It's just a good spot. Inland's way worse than you imagine."

One of the grunts approached us—the senior sergeant among them.

"Sir!" He saluted me sharp. Not my troops, but I returned it to keep the vibe right.

"Reporting: Total 8, KIA 1, present 7. Wounded treated—all fit for march."

I handed him a dog tag wordlessly. Recovered from the dead LT.

"Staying put here? Or back to base?"

"W-Well..." The sergeant hesitated. Even a grizzled vet wouldn't wanna call the shots without a CO, especially in wartime where one fuckup means death by bullet or beast.

"What good's sticking together without leadership? We're headed to Yeosu. Same direction— we'll drop you off."

"Thank you, sir!" The sergeant's face lit up like a kid at Christmas. Guess having a battle-hardened leader with heavy firepower call the plays lifted a weight off.

"Round up the rest."

"Yes, sir!" He snapped around military-style.

"Third Squad, assemble!"

The survivors hustled into formation quick.

"I'm temporarily assuming command to guide you to Yeosu. Obey my orders till then."

"Yes, sir!"

Right on cue, a robot rolled up in a truck. The original transport's engine got shredded in the fight, so the bots had scouted a beast-mode ride for the troops. It looked rough, but it'd hold till HQ.

"Grab the LT's body and combat gear only. Time's short—move out when ready."

"Got it."

"Anyone with Class 1 license?"

"Sergeant Shim Daesik!"

"Private First Class Kim Woojin!"

Post-Infection armies are full of draftees, so licensed drivers are rarer than you'd think.

"Sergeant Shim, you're driving."

"Yes, sir."

Handed the wheel to another sergeant too. Vets with legit licenses from peacetime are gold.

A few minutes later, as the grunts piled in, I hopped into the APC. Woosungdae followed, peeking around nervously.

"You into games, right?" I tossed him the portable Nintendo Earth from inside. Meant as trade bait for local intel, but some folks crave it more than booze or smokes.

"Here."

No need for it now.

"Boss!" Woosungdae yelped, eyes misty with awe.

The trek to Yeosu garrison HQ down the main drag was smooth. We halted at a Yeosu-held checkpoint, but no hassle. The guard sergeant waved us through without a check.

'Any big unknown APC flying a white flag? Let 'em pass.'

Pre-arranged with Yeosu command.

Only Artemis griped about the smooth deal.

"What?"

White flag signals no intent to fight, not surrender. But to her, same diff.

"In wartime, a charging heavy APC spooks anyone. Think from the grunt's POV, briefed or not."

The barrier lifted fully, and the APC rolled on.

She trailed off like 'like a corporate chairman.'

"Dignity?" I could only chuckle dryly.

"Manager, rep, chairman—nice hats, but first I'm a soldier. See this?" I pointed to Woosungdae's uniform chevrons as he fiddled with the Nintendo Earth beside me. Three matte diamonds, not shiny silver. Velcro for easy removal.

Riiiip. It peeled right off.

"If I cared about dignity, I'd pin on flashy silver metal ones. But officers like that get sniped first."

"It is. War's full of fuckups from tiny misunderstandings. Checkpoint gets bad orders, green rookie freaks at a heavy APC and opens fire. One slip sparks disaster."

Happens: Overzealous sentry asks the wrong challenge, ally panics and eats lead.

"Nothing communicates 'no fight' like a big white flag flapping high. Zero room for error."

"Trust me on battlefield dynamics."

I reattached the chevrons to Woosungdae's uniform. Artemis dropped it. Meanwhile, he was lost in the game. Must've been a hell of a nostalgia hit.

After passing a few more checkpoints, Artemis's grumpiness got resolved in an unexpected way.

"We can take it from here. Thanks again for saving our asses."

"Short ride, but fun. Good luck, all."

As the others stood at attention, the sergeant stepped forward crisply.

"Squad, attention!"

Thud! Perfect sync.

"Sir!"

I returned his salute.

"Looks pointless, but there's a reason. Builds discipline into an army."

Her lingering irritation had vanished. Turned on by crisp drill? Women's hearts are a mystery.

Lee Seong-bong and my rendezvous was a tent on the plains 500 meters from their HQ. Sides rolled up for full visibility, with a fancy conference table smack in the middle. At the far end stood a man in his mid-40s—he had to be Lt. Col. Lee Seong-bong—with his officer staff flanking him.

All eyes snapped to us as we pulled up.

"They wait standing?"

Artemis stated the obvious. They could've sat till I arrived and stood just for entry, but nah—they endured the fatigue standing. Little details like that scream Lee Seong-bong's character.

My robot escorts dismounted, and their eyes bugged out. Spotting the 12.7mm battle rifles made 'em bulge impossibly wider.

The sentries at the entrance waved us in sans pat-down.

Equal number of bots lined up beside the sentries. Low odds, but ready for any bullshit.

"Ahem." The now-uncomfortable sentries held parade rest but kept sneaking peeks at the bots. Yeosu picked their tallest, beefiest, but the physical gap was North Korean vs. US troops. Their rifles looked like airsoft next to the bots' real steel. Some officers even sighed softly.

Lee Seong-bong and I faced off across the long table.

"Pleased to meet you. Lt. Col. Lee Seong-bong, Yeosu Defense Force commander."

"Shelter Manager Seo Jinsu."

He nodded and gestured to a seat.

"Please, have a seat, Manager."

"Don't mind if I do."

A PFC duty soldier set crystal teacups before us—lemon slices floating in each. Priceless luxury these days.

"Cheers."

"Thanks to your supply aid, Manager. Couldn't have pushed north without it."

He smiled evenly. Sour-sweet lemon tea, but my tongue's spoiled by Artemis's fancy brews—no delight here.

"Thanks again for saving our troops en route. And showing those rebels what's what. LT Park can rest easy now."

Slurp. A wedding ring gleamed on his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠middle finger—explains the missing joints on ring and pinky.

"You know the sitrep better than me. Superior recon and intel networks, right?"

Shelter's external HUMINT is still baby steps. His net's stronger, but he assumes we're tops everywhere. No need to correct—with the rest stop secured, it'll be true in a month.

"Reason we're here today—well, I called the meet—is to settle a matter."

He glanced at his officers. Most stone-faced, but some young ones eyed me hungry-like.

"Bottom line: We're all trained to cut the bullshit, right?"

Light chuckles rippled.

"Lee Man-cheol dies this week. No surrender—we kill him. If he surrenders, we shoot him."

The laughs froze solid.