Luna's Knight in Ballistic Armor.

   Some people think life is just a game, others think its a party, and others think life is perfect for them. Of course, nothing in this life is perfect. For others on the battlefield, life is a beautiful thing. Life is something you never want to waste on petty wars for resources, land and power. They view it as a gift that can't be paid by simply saying "thank you." Some soldiers on the battlefield never valued their life, they put others before himself. Of course our main protagonist valued his life and the lives of every one around him. A man by the name of Jean Christian Riley came back from the mission debriefing from earlier, New Era wouldn't give humanity a break and it ultimately affected him and his job. He approached and opened his clothes locker, except this clothes weren't civilian in any aspect, they were military uniforms.

   He starts to undress himself in order to slip in his digital camouflage patterned Battle Dress Uniform. He took his heavy padded Kevlar vest and sets it on his chest. He takes a heavy black combat boots and fits it on his feet. He bent down and ties a knot on each boot, making the boots tighten around his feet.

   He took his helmet from the lower shelf. The tech that he received were advanced than the normal ones. His helmet had an optical visor attached on a forehead strap inside it that hangs it in his right eye that helped him in the heat of battle, due of its wide range of uses. The Visor takes for of the magnifier attachment on weapons, except this particular one has a sleek black color with it ‘lens’ glowing red and it has more combat capabilities.  One example to prove it was very helpful, it helped him monitor his gadgets health and power meters, and it also keeps track of his health and ammunition.

    As Jean finished his helmet, he unlocked his gun locker which was right next to the one that held the clothes. An array of weapons occupied it, ranging from rifles to accessories. At the corner of his eye, there sat an M14 ERB. His special rifle.

    He reached out to the upper shelf; taking an optical scope, the laser sight, a silencer and a vertical grip. He flopped them down on the bed and proceeded to hook the items onto the weapon. After that, he reproached the gun locker and pulled out his secondary weapon, a pistol. From the left side he took out a combat knife and its sheath. He gently attached it on his shoulder pads, making the sheath’s belt wrapped snugly on his left shoulder with its button making an audible ‘snap’.  He took a pistol holster on one of the table adjacent to him, he unhooked it and fastens it around his right thigh. He reached out for his M1911 Pistol  and placed it on the holster. He acquired 15 Magazines for his rifle and deposits it on his vest pouch, he did the same for his pistol magazines. He procured eight magazines for the pistol and places it on his vest.

He stood up and said, “System Diagnostics Check Initiate.”

“Initiating System check. Please stand by.” A female robotic voice replied, coming from the AI.

     The Optical lens glowed bright orange as a respond to the command, the AI began to scan the system for any bugs and problems. In his eyes, orange circles emerged around his wrist. The circle collapsed into a box, turning into a gray colored hologram screen. The tip of his right fingers glowed orange, he positions it on the hologram screen and swipes away to the Body Diagnosis System. In the screen, a silhouette of a man shined, with a tint of green, indicating that he was in the clear. He swipes it again, activating the targeting system. Although no one can see it, a small circle appeared from the eye ware in his point of view. He takes another swipe, ending up in the main HUD menu, where ammo count can be monitored and how much damage he had taken.

Without delaying any further, the door opened. The hydraulics let out pressurized air as it opens, allowing him to go to his designated area.

***

After a minute or so, he reached his desired destination: The hangar bay.

    The bay itself was crowded with troops, non-combat personnel like engineers and medical teams, and battlefield equipment. As of now, the engineers finished up their daily maintenance for the helicopters and tanks outside. Medical equipment were packed away to one of the helicopters for a forward outpost. The soldiers sat idly or paced around the hangar bay awaiting the signal to mobilize.

     Everyone ears perked up as sirens whined with it, a green light shining brightly. One minute the bay wasn't that busy, now it was like a bee hive. The troops began to board the estimated twenty five helicopters, with sixteen soldiers occupying one chopper. Four hundred troops, including him boarded in the aircraft. The radio picked up a signal as a message relayed from the brass.

“Call sign Angels, this is Strike actual. Your orders are to recapture a city called Marikina in the Philippines. You are to fly to the other side of this island to land your choppers on four aircraft carriers that is stationed there by the United States Navy. Expect very heavy resistance from NE, you will meet up with a Filipino commander to aid you in the offense. Our enemies are confirmed to have three-hundred T-90 tanks and sixty thousand strong troops. The Ships will escort you a little ways from the island to begin the attack. Understood?”

    The troops were silent, but they were listening. HQ replied, “Good. I wish ya’ll good luck and may God be with you.”

As HQ cut off their message, an aircraft marshal stood in front of the helicopters, in his hands were to flags colored green. He raised his left arm, giving the signal of the all clear. Raising his right arm, he does a little circling motion with his right hand. The aircraft propellers began to buzz, getting louder and louder as it gains power. He does a little half spin, with him kneeling down on one leg, leaning downward and pointing both of the flags east as his arms raised up and down.

The helicopters took off as the final hand signal to place, the chopper bladed kicked up dust and loose dirt as it took off, going east to the bay.

     The choppers soared through the sky as if it was an eagle. Palm tree leaves followed the breeze as the helicopter manipulated the air. The wild life weren't very happy at all, heck they were scared. Monkeys fling from tree to tree just to avoid the metallic beast, snakes slithered away, and other wild life went to random path ways due to the commotion up in the air.

Over the horizon, seven big grey ships rested idly on the bay.

     Four carried numerous air vehicles, Aircraft Carriers while the others were smaller but sported weapons, destroyers. The choppers flew over the small village close to the concrete bay. The villagers stopped dead and looked up. Smiles plastered their faces as they gave a wave to the honorable men in the chopper flying right above the small village, of course the soldiers gave a wave also.

     The choppers eventually reached the four aircraft carriers. On each ship were another set of air marshals. They raised their flags as the choppers lazily hovered above them. Each Air Marshal raised and straightened their arms on the side, holding each of the flags. They made a motion of that of making a snow angel, only gesturing downwards. They pushed their hands down and crossed them. The helicopters began to hover down, eventually landing. The engines powered down as various crew members of the ship raced to their landing zone to provide assistance. Jean and every other soldiers unhooked their seat belts and briskly stepped down the aircraft to rest themselves for an upcoming battle.

The troops made their way down to the sleeping quarters and sat their gear among the tables, he placed his gear in the table and unzipped his bag.

"Yo LT!" one trooper yelled. Jean fixed his gave to the trooper, the trooper threw a can of coke right in his direction. "Hey Cole, thanks." He said, gesturing a thumbs up. He opened the can and chugged down it's contents.

   He sat down on the bed, he spotted over the other side was three men, each holding a deck of cards. He knew that it was prohibited to bring playing cards, but he let it slide this time, it was tad boring in the quarters. He took off his Visor and laid it beside the pillow. He took his blue helmet from the table and laid it on his lap. Instead of the UN acronym etched on the front and the sides, the front of the helmet had a drawing of the moon etched with a pair of wings, and the sides remained spotless from the newly applied coat of blue paint.

He took his black marker and wrote in jagged and sharp letters on the side:

For Luna

    Smiling in content, he laid it on the table to dry. He lets himself slid in the covers of the bed and slowly drift to sleep.

***

The sirens whined loudly as different shades of red and green shined, Jean was abruptly awoken by the sound of  crying loud noises, it was accompanied by a gruff male voice.

“We are Irene! I say again, Irene!”

   Soldiers began to pack up their gear and start to fit their uniforms in, of course Jean did it as well. As a lieutenant, he had to their squad leader, the man they’re going to look up to and comply. He shouted out his order, “Troops! Single file out to the deck. Come on lads!”

   The soldiers complied, each lined themselves up making a straight-line. He opened the door and let the troops step out and file made their way to the deck. The carrier’s deck is buzzing with activity, especially the troops, who were trying to climb in the aircraft. The troops once again, boarded their designated transport helicopters.

   An aircraft marshal faced the whole mess of choppers as he guided the pilots till launch, which was followed by a Lieutenant Colonel speaking through the radio, “To all units, this is Zebra-actual, we are Oscar-Mike. I repeat, we are Oskar Mike!”

    The air was once again filled with the familiar buzzing sound made by the helicopter’s rotor blades. Not only the air was filled with choppers, this time a wing of fighter jets scrambled to the air, and C-130 cargo planes filled with other troops, vehicles and equipment were in the air also. They soared high in the sky, looking innocently enough, if you count flying into enemy territory with an intent on killing all of them.

“Everyone get ready! We are seven clicks to our destination!” The Pilots said, “ETA 30 Minutes!”

    Jean knew something is going to happen, he can't tell when but he knows its coming in hard. He knew they could win this, with support they had ninety thousand solid troops and the Fili's have a a twenty thousand troops all ready battle tested. The Filipino were already equipped with the latest weapons because of their alliance with the UN, this means new MBTs, APCs, new armament, as well as warships and aircraft. All in all, they have 467 tanks with them.

    Aside the fact that they were nearing an island city with the clearly audible sound of rotor blades, there was a familiar tune played from one of the designated gunships which escorted them through the attack; the song was called “Fortunate son.”

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  AA guns set the sky ablaze as the choppers approach the shore and into the bay. Jean gripped the trigger of the mini gun and let loose its hellish fury, killing the crew of nearest AA gun he sees, as well as detonating the AA gun’s ammunition inside of it, hence making the gun inoperable.

    A Super cobra Gunship reared up on a building housing an AA emplacement, the bottom rigged chain gun revved up as it spewed 20mm cannon shells, as well as launching rockets at the unfortunate target, obliterating the AA emplacement and the building. It turned its attention to a nearby tank, a T-90. Same procedure, different target. The cannon began to spin, until the bullets flied. Tracers hit the tank, but only damaging the exterior. The  machine-gun was ripped off and the cupola was shrugging the shots off like it was nothing. Finally, a missile fell of the gunship, before the fuse ignited then flew towards the tanks. A load boom sounded out, in the middle of it all there laid the once impenetrable fortress, the T-90 tank.

Well, it seems like Hellfire did the trick.

"Uh, Big bird, this is Malta 3-4! We need fire support over at the docks. Over?!"

"WILCO, heading to your position now." The pilot replied, he leans over his seat and said, "Lieutenant! We're going for a detour! We need you to provide supporting fire for Malta 3-4."

"Roger, go then lad!" He replied, "Simon! I need you to man the other mini-gun. Jackson, use your grenade launcher to provide support." He called out, Simon darted to the other mini-gun, then Jackson took hold of his MGL and took position at the door way. Soon the helo spotted a mess of UAZs on the dock, two trucks had a gunner on it, firing its machine gun, the other New era troops took refuge behind their car. Seven figures had there backs pressed against a shipping container. On of them popped up the shot his M4 carbine at them, the others did the same. Lying on the ground was two of their buddies, one was bleeding on his shoulder but breathing, while the other died from a leg shot and a shoulder.

Jean fired the mini-gun, hot small pillars of bright red light illuminated. Two of the NE soldiers got hit center mass, he peppered the engine block of the UAZ, crippling the vehicle. Simon lets out it fury, killing a NE trooper using the mounted gun, Jackson launched grenades at the vehicles, destroying them as well as killing the ones using the machine-gun mounted on it.

Simon fired bursts, killing the NE taking cover behind another shipping container while Jackson protected the troops from obvious dangers up above with his grenade launcher. Although as best as they could the enemy troops hid behind everything they thought of as a solid cover.

"Many thanks Big Bird we can handle this, Malta 3-4 out," one of the soldiers below gave a wave at the helicopter, before he continued on with the fire fight with the remaining survivors.

The helicopter flew back to its main coarse, a little while his helicopter stopped, hovering over a back yard. The troops inside his helicopter threw ropes down, he disengages the mini-gun controls and zipped down the rope, with the rest of his squad covering him. They lined themselves against the wall of an apartment building, preparing to breach the door.

   Lt. Jean taps the shoulder of one of his squad mates, the trooper violently kicked the door open while another one threw a stun grenade. A deafening bang erupted, causing the enemy trooper at the other end to stumble backwards with his hands covering his ears. Jean pulled in his rifle to his shoulders and fires two shots, the stunned enemy soldier’s body fell limp to the ground, becoming nothing more than a mere corpse. Gesturing a hand signal, the men stormed to the basement.

“Alcatraz prep a flash bang, go!” said Jean, Alcatraz replied with a simple nod before throwing a flash bang. The distinctive loud stunning bang was heard again. Sgt. Alcatraz grabbed his shotgun and fired an enemy soldier dead, the blood splattered on the wall. Frantic yelling filled the room with it, gun fire.

“Enemy troops! Open fire!”

“Take cover!”

“Engage hostiles!”

     Jean leaned in on the wall of the large basement. He peeks out seeing an expose, yet busy New Era soldier engaging his team mate. He aimed his rifle, the red dot pinned directly on the center of the soldier’s helmet.

   Pulling the trigger thrice, his gun fire was masked along with the rest that filled the once quiet basement; the bullets hit his desired mark as it left a red stain on the wall and the flipped table that his enemy took the liberty to seek refuge in. At the corner, he saw a private pulling the pin of a grenade; he threw it, shouting while the grenade is in midair.

“Fire in the hole!”

‘BVOOM!’

     The grenade left a black stain on the ground, the room was silent once again. They peeked their heads out of cover, only to see four enemy troops in the pool of their own blood; they were either dismembered or just plain dead on the ground.

Smiling, he pats the back of the private. “Good work mate, now let’s get going.” He said, the trooper smiled in acknowledgement.

   The group climbed up on a spiral staircase. Jean had his M14 EBR to bear. Lining up against the doorway, he kicked it open. As soon as the door got violently kicked, the enemy on other side let loose a barrage of bullets. The rest of the troops found cover behind a divider, and some kind of wall, but an unlucky soldier got hit several times at his chest and his legs, ending the poor man's life.

   Six men wore a blue and green camouflage patterned BDU, and the same with their helmets; the New Era troops. Jean bought his rifle to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. The round flew in the space between them, eventually landing at the shoulder, making the enemy jerk to the side. He pulled the trigger again this time he made sure the round landed right between the eyes. A corporal fired his M4 carbine, sending nine bursts at the target. The rest of them emptied a clip against the enemy.

"Cease FIRE! Cease FIRE!" He screamed followed by other another one screaming.

"Clear! Alright every one evacuate the civilians so we could blow up this Popsicle stand." said Jean.

     A corporal and his buddy, a sergeant, briskly bought out the C4 charge and placed them on the containers, and on the wall. Jean waved his hand, gesturing them to come out of the building. While he was calling for them, the troops had the civilians evacuated from the building. Shell shock was written across their face, they also had luggage on their hands. Jean regrouped his men and cleared out of the area, once they were out, he ordered the corporal to detonate the bomb.

   The corporal complied and pressed the detonator’s trigger. A loud bang was followed by the sound of rocks smashing together. With the support beams blown to pieces, the building collapsed under its own weight.

     Three UN vehicles arrived, unloading the troops. The civilians were picked up by a squad of troops while they covered them. The white carrier closed its lid and left the troops to support Jean’s offensive. Jean took his radio off of his left shoulder pad and pushed the mic, “Big bird, this Outlaw actual, we need pick up over at Charlie!”

      A static hum played through the radio until the pilot replied, “Outlaw actual, we are coming in. hold your position. ETA 5 minutes.”

   With a handful of time in his hands, he regrouped his team and huddled them closer. “Okay! Fire team Alpha  your orders are to disable a Comm jamming radio tower in order to aid the main attack force at the high way to the city’s urban area to retake the city hall. The Filipino will aid you in the attack as the commander said. Expect heavy resistance on the way there. The rest of us are going to continue the raid to strain them. Any questions? ”

"So No Sir!"

He shouted, "Then what are you doing here?! Get moving Lads!"

“Sir Yes Sir!”

      The troops stood up and ran to the alley way, soon they disappeared from his sight. Just before he handed a radio to one of the soldiers, a loud booming voice echoed through.

"Two T-90s! EVERY TAKE COVER!"

   The modern tank drove through one of the building, pulverizing the wall into cinder, dust and ruble. Another T-90 emerged through one of the fences, the wooden planks broke under the sheer weight of the tank.

   One of the turrets aimed at them, the tank's cannon erupted sending a high explosive shell in between them and the troops. A UN troop never got out of the way in time before the shell landed, the ground is now freshly coated with his blood, and his severed leg. The troops recovered from the explosive shock wave and quickly found cover. Enemy troops popped out behind the tank and began to shoot at the dazed group.

"Pixis! Get your Gustav here and fire on its sides!" shouted Jean, he barked orders at his men to keep moving.

   Pixis aimed his Carl Gustav, his shoulders supporting the weight of the rocket launcher. The reticle hovered over the side of the cumbersome vehicle. His finger crunched the trigger, sending a rocket out of the tube, the projectile hit its mark, leaving a hole and scorch marks with the engine burning as hot as the sun.

   Seemingly out of nowhere, a sleek black vehicle emerged from an alley way, with troops covering from the rear and the sides. On it's side was the emblem of the Philippines.

   The said tank is the new PL-01 polish MBT. The tank aimed its turret at the T-90,  the PL-01 gun barked as 120mm cannon shell soared through the sky, hitting the T-90 square in the side. The turret exploded violently, sending the turret high in the air, before landing. The new arrivals turned their attention to the remaining ones, killing them.

One of the soldiers approached Jean, jutting out his hand in an attempt for a hand shake, "Kapitan Jolo Minandra Sir."

Jean took his hand, accepting the hand shake, " Lt. Jean Christian Riley, thanks for the assist."

The Captain smiled before replying, "No problem Lieutenant."

   The sound of helicopter blades filled the air, the helicopter hovered above them. The helicopter landed, kicking up dust. Only twelve men are left, including him. They entered the chopper, Jean found himself again at the controls of the mini-gun. Before the chopper lifted up vertically and soared to the sky, he gave a salute to the Filipino soldier.

       From up above, the city didn't look as beautiful as it once was. The buildings that housed importance was either peppered with holes from stray bullets or outright destroyed. Small establishments that once sold goods were now occupied with guns and occasional dead bodies of its owner or troops. The sky had an eerie glow of orange, with black smoke partially covering the sky.

       As the helo flew, sparks of metal hit the chopper. He looked down and saw a whole company of of new era troopers shooting them from down below. On primal instinct, he pushed down the barrel of the mini-gun, aiming at the group. He pulled the trigger, sending lead down at the targets. One by one, each one of them dropped to the ground in their pool of blood. He said in between bursts of fire, “Everyone get down!” He blurts out, as he lets out his first burst of fire.

“I’ll provide fire support-“

The second burst tore the enemy trooper, bullets slicing the arm off.

“While you blokes get your arse down their!"

       The final burst ripped a car into shreds, reaching a covered New Era trooper. The troops complied by simply giving a small salute, before throwing the ropes and zipping down it. Jean in the meanwhile, was still peppering any NE Troopers he sees. The kill count of the day was originally six, but the mini-gun up the ante to seventeen. He switched to the other as the bullets began to glaze the helicopter's side. The Mini-gun revved up again as it spewed red hot tracers at its enemies. He was still sad due to the fact that someone he killed had been pulled out of his family just to serve a cause for what? World domination? Iron rule? His trail of though was cut short as beeping sounded out.  The pilots soon took notice as red light flashing uncontrollably. The pilots said with a hint of panic, “We have a missile launch! Dumping flar---”

   The last syllable was cut short by an immense explosion, the tail of the helicopter was torn into pieces. Panic sets in on the pilots, they screamed as they plummet to their death as the chopper began to spin uncontrollably.

“Mayday! Mayday! Big Bird is going down, I repeat Big Bird is going down!”

Jean recoiled back from the explosion, he held onto the helicopter's side as it spins uncontrollably in the air. Memories spawned, to the time of his birth, his 7th birth day, the time he almost killed the local bully that harassed him since middle school, and that faithful day at the moon, where he meet the most wonderful woman that his eyes sat upon. He watched as the helicopter slowly made its way to the ground.