Pearl Island: Assault on the Biche Facilities

html, body { margin:0; padding:0; } F-Class Warrior: Duran Dos 22

Whooooosh!

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

On the ground, it was a one-sided massacre, but up in the sky, the air battle raged on.

This landing operation wasn't just a fight between the army and the navy. Securing complete control of the seas and air superiority was, of course, a prerequisite.

But thanks to the Kyrria forces' tenacious counterattacks, we had to land in an incomplete situation without full air dominance.

In a way, it was a massive gamble. And the side that won the bet was the Kakil forces. High-risk gambles bring big returns.

"Damn it! Hey, you!"

A red-faced navy sergeant stormed up to me, huffing and puffing. It was the guy I'd tossed off the landing craft earlier. He'd managed to survive, somehow.

"Hey! I'd only heard the rumors, but you're completely insane! Charging ahead to land in that situation!? There's no crazier bastard in the world than you. And damn it! At least say something before throwing someone out of the boat. I nearly died!"

"If you die there, are you even navy?"

"Heh! Fair point. Anyway, congrats. You'll definitely get the 1st Class Silver Star Medal."

"A medal this hard to earn. Did everyone else who got it go through this too?"

No way. If there were two more soldiers like me, this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠war would've been over already.

"Beats me. I'm a guy miles away from medals. Ah, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gotta go. Lots to do."

Our army's job was to hold the captured enemy bunkers and trenches to secure the perimeter. Processing POWs was just a side task.

Though we'd succeeded in landing, this was only the first step of a massive operation. Our ultimate goal was to assemble forces and fully occupy Pearl Island. That meant facing even more enemies than the ones we'd first encountered.

The engineering regiment hurriedly began constructing a temporary port. I stuck close to Captain Johnson. He had a radioman attached, so I could easily hear updates from other units.

Our Echo Sector was the second to land. Good news poured in from elsewhere too. Out of the 10 sectors the Kakil forces had planned, we'd successfully landed in 8.

The remaining sectors had abandoned landing due to sturdier defenses and unfavorable currents than expected. They'd land via the successful sectors instead.

A week had passed since landing on Pearl Island. Fortunately, no other battles had broken out in that time.

Reinforcements poured in through the port the engineers had busted their asses to build. Our 7th Regiment, along with the 9th, was advancing toward the island's center.

The landing was just the foundation for the push inland. The dense jungle of Pearl Island would choke us with defensive advantages rivaling the coastline. Tension hung thick on the soldiers' faces.

"It's a total jungle out here."

Pearl Island was a tropical isle with far lusher forests than the other Morton Archipelago islands. Air support would be limited. Tanks would be tough to maneuver too.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

The bombing sounds, now so familiar they'd wormed into our ears, echoed again. Since landing, Kyrria bombers showed up every other day. It showed how much they valued this island.

"Word is they've landed reinforcements too. Looks like we'll have several large-scale battles here."

Captain Johnson spat out his chewed cigarette onto the ground. Sergeant Rostador stomped out the ember.

"So, what's our company's move?"

"We've been assigned to blaze a trail southwest. Seems our work on Olba Island impressed the brass."

"Blaze a trail on this island crawling with Kyrria guerrillas like cockroaches? That's insane. Fucking bastards."

"Normally, yeah. But don't we have our own hero?"

Captain Johnson's gaze turned to me. I shrugged. Spot on. Clearing a path? Piece of cake.

With that, the company split into squads to scout assigned areas.

My 1st Squad got the riskiest zone. It was a straight shot from our main Kakil assembly point—perfect for a speed blitz—but the thick foliage meant heavy enemy ambushes were likely.

Still, our squad cleared the path faster than the others. Zero casualties. Mines, booby traps, ambushes—all useless against my Darkness Radar.

With the route opening quicker than expected, the 7th Regiment began moving along it. Thus, the Pearl Island battle hit full stride.

A month had passed since landing on the island. Our 7th Regiment was officially wiped out. HQ ordered us to fall back for reorganization.

1st Company was in decent shape. Total KIA and wounded barely topped ten.

"Withdrawal! Finally, we can breathe!"

Coren grinned ear to ear. He might be thrilled, but I was disappointed.

'Pulling us out right when I need to rack up more merits for the scenario.'

I valued scenario completion over my life. Plus, I wanted to see those zombie soldiers made from Biche. Thought it'd be easy to spot after landing, but no sign yet.

"Corporal Dos. Over here a sec."

Captain Johnson beckoned, cigarette in mouth. Following him to the makeshift HQ, a familiar face waited.

"Sergeant Helman. Good morning."

"Morning, Corporal Dos."

"What brings you here? Reforming that dream team from last time?"

"Sharp instincts. That's why you survive battlefields. Spot on. The rest of the team is ready."

"What's the mission?"

"Intel says there's a Biche production facility on Pearl Island. That's why we're here. But their counterattacks are fiercer than expected. They'll defend it at all costs. Throwing in most of their Typhoon Front fighters."

"That's a problem. For them, I mean."

"Our job: harass from the rear. Hit the Biche production, and it'll rattle them. Then the main force punches forward."

Part of a diversion op. Not easy.

"Several spec ops teams on the same mission. Even Elmon Federation forces. You up for it, Corporal Dos?"

Sergeant Helman thrust out his hand confidently. No doubt I'd refuse. His instincts were spot on.

"Of course."

I shook it. Easy mode. Thought I'd be stuck in the rear, but Helman to the rescue.

"Grinning like that on the way back to the front. You're one of a kind. Born in a warzone?"

"Who knows."

Captain Johnson chuckled beside us.

"Our lives are endless struggle anyway."

"Sergeant Walters! Been waiting to see you again!"

I spread my arms dramatically. She glared with her signature viper eyes.

Her sharp aura could paralyze with a look. Good thing her gun wasn't drawn—or she'd have fired a warning shot.

"Shut your mouth, and you'd be textbook hero material."

"Not interested."

"Oh ho. Hitting on her outright now? What do you say, Sergeant? Doesn't Corporal Dos meet your strict standards?"

Sergeant Klein snarked from the side. Her venomous glare ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shifted; he shook his head slyly.

"Good to see harmony. Op starts tomorrow at 1200 hours. Head southeast to the island's center Biche facility. Over 20km straight-line—cover it before dawn. Steel yourselves."

No big deal. I killed time munching combat rations. Packed light—inventory holds everything.

Zero hour hit. We moved out armed.

"Stay alert for ambushes. Move out."

Light at night in war is suicide. We navigated dark trails by star and moonlight.

Long haul, but we pressed on. No sweat for me—a dungeon hunter who can't handle this is worthless.

Four hours: target reached. Considering heavy gear and ambush risks in the dim outlines, impressive.

I'd strolled, sneaking chocolate. Snacks were noisy.

"We're here."

Ahead: a Biche harvest site packed with oilfield-like machinery. Flanked by dozens of tanks, armed troops, machine guns, AA guns.

"Intel says about 50% of Pearl Island's Kyrria forces guard this."

"One ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slip, and no bones left."

Security was tight, but not airtight. Humans always have gaps.