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You are Artemio Barrea, former outlaw turned United States Army dispatch rider. You were perfectly happy waiting out the war against the Martians in your club house in Chicago, perfectly content in the fact that the army “lost” your papers in the opening days of the war. But old habits die hard and after a failed heist and a street brawl, the brass remembered that you existed and now you and your boys are getting sent on a suicide mission across the Mississippi.

Current War Map: https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=1x6mCIffaW-ij0Z0TV-crZsIRTptUjW8&usp=sharing

Archive: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/strike-witches-quest-the-gold-in-the-pocket-archive.1185865/

The drive to the front was uneventful despite the sounds of gunfire and heat rays echoing through the night. After a few hours of sleep rest stop you set off again in the predawn hours. And as dawn breaks you crest a hill and get your first look at the front line.

Before you is a wall of Black Smoke. The mile high wispy shadow impenetrable by dawn’s first light, drowning the western bank in darkness. Penetrated only by the muted flash mazers laying siege to the battered bridgehead. The east is no better, a muddy patchwork of trenches, fortifications and burnt out craters stretch as far as the eye can see. In the center of the river stands the Rock Island Arsenal, an old Civil War fortress, turned weapons factory that now sits as the headquarters for the Illinois Defense Line.

“So this is where we’re supposed to cross?” Bobby asks, resting against his bike.

“Yeah this is the spot. We cross through Rock Island and then the Fifth Infantry is supposed to make us an opening to cross the line.” Walker responds, motioning you to hand him a pair of binoculars.

“So we’re boned, right?” You ask, handing Walker the binoculars. “Because I’m not seeing a way through this that doesn’t leave us dead. We’re either going to wreck in the smoke or get blasted by some squid hiding in a ditch.”

“Arty, what's with the negative attitude? You got your witchy powers, with them crossing the cloud should be a breeze.” Walker responds with his usual overconfident reassurance.

“Walker, I already told you, I’m spent. No more magic juice.” You say reminding Walker about the state of your newly revealed magic.

NFT

#0738

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