Valkyria Chronicles: Unfettered Escalation

Prologue: The Last Harbour

Author's note: I'd like to begin this story with gratitude to the following people who've helped me make this story possible with advice and suggestions in various areas.

-Fuji92 (Reza)

-Dayan

...

Vorota Settlement, Vorota Island, East Europan Imperial Alliance

November, 1935 EC

It's cold

That was the only thing the young man could think off as he exhaled a small cloud of mist from his mouth. The scent of the ocean, a salty, almost stale odour entered through his nostrils. All the while, the sounds of waves breaking against the coastline nearby could be heard. For all intents and purposes, this should've been a nice calm and cold night.

But tonight, was anything but.

His ZM Kar 0 semi-automatic rifle, manufactured by the famous Zechmeister Corporation, rested on the sandbags in front of him. The metallic receiver reflected the light from the azure moon that stood high up beyond the clouds.

"Private...private Damien sir?" came the measly words of someone that crouched next to him behind the sandbags. In his hands, the same ZM Kar 0 rifle, but his attire was only of a simple tan shirt and trousers as opposed to the young man who was don in light armoured platting that made him resemble the knights of old of the continent of Europa.

As Private Damien Gertraube, 1st Platoon of the Vorota Settlement of the Imperial Naval Infantry Corps, looked to his right, he could tell that the young man that called out to him was no older than 17. His eyes filled with fear, his hands trembling as he clutched his rifle in his hands.

The sight before private Damien reminded him of the time when he himself was put into basic training. A time when public humiliation and severe beatings were the anecdote for any sign of cowardice. Despite his own memories and the almost pathetic sight of the young man before him, he could not blame the militia man who was simply called up to defend this coastal town.

"Just calm down alright?" came the starkly warm words of Private Damien as he spoke back to the young militia man who looked like he had just run a cross country marathon by the way he was breathing.

"I-I-I-I-I'm just worried private sir" the young militia man said as he stuttered before continuing. "The newspapers always said we were winning, that we were pushing the Feds back all the way to Edinburgh. Why-why would they attack here?" asked the militia man as he shook in place in fear.

Private Damien opened his mouth to speak, but then promptly didn't. He himself didn't have the answer to what the militia man was asking.

What the militia man said instead made Damien think. 'Why were the Federation attacking here of all places?' One didn't have to be a graduate from the Imperial War College in Schwartzgrad to understand that the main fighting was done on the continent and held greater strategic value than the bum fuck out of nowhere island he was currently on.

And yet...here they are. Being told to dig in and wait for reinforcements in anticipation of a Federation invasion of the island.

Military intelligence had briefed the governor of the island that a Federation landing force was due to make landfall yesterday. But verifying the existence of such a force was often met with high casualties by recon units that were dispatched to the other side of the island to investigate.

Survivors often reported what sounded like thunder piercing through the skies on a clear day before fireteams were subjected to a short but violent and accurate artillery strike on their position. At times, entire fireteams were wiped out in a few short seconds even when concealed in whatever vegetation they could find.