A Peacekeepers Nightmare

Chapter 35:Counter offensive

Authors note: Things might get sliiiiiiightly AU. See of you can spot the nuanced differences from Canon.

I sit in a train that, like many others, was modified for the purpose of holding more soldiers. At the very least, hundreds of thousands of Peacekeepers are riding the train down to fight. Millions of civilians are waiting in the Acropolis, their last hope resting squarely on our shoulders.

The television screens on it show what is happening in the air while we roll down the tracks.

Rebel hovercrafts fly over towards the sky above the Acroplis. They probably expect to be ignored like flies over a dung pile. That is not what happens.

One by one, antihovercraft artillery blasts the rebel bombers out of the sky, ripping through their hulls and sending them crashing towards the earth in metallic balls of fire.

The rebels will not be causing any avalanches today, and the Acropolis will remain unburied. The rebels thought they would make their final push soon; they could not have made a bigger mistake.

As soon as the rebel hovercrafts are ripped to shreds by our antiaircraft guns, our own hovercrafts fly out as a massive swarm. These are battle hovercrafts which battle the rebel hovercrafts, bomber hovercrafts that will destroy the rebel defenses below, and paratrooper hovercrafts to drop in peacekeepers over the city. The peacekeeper hovercrafts fly out in a vast multitude, almost as though the sky was a canvas that someone was pouring paint onto.

As we ride the train, I can feel my heart beating in anticipation of the coming battle. I look at the men under my command; they are but a minute fraction of the entire Peacekeeper Army that is charging forth on this day.

Our unity is what gives us strength, it is what allowed our forefathers to drive the rebels out before. We shall no longer allow the destruction of all we hold dear.

Now that we are in the offensive, Gale is going to pay the blood price for his misdeeds.

On my belt is the sword of my Peacekeeper grandfather, the dagger of my Career cousin, the two pistols I used to kill countless rebels, the baton I used against countless other rebels. It also includes a flashlight for use if I can not wear my helmet with its visor that allows for vision at night, as well as several grenades and magazines of ammunition.

I grip the bayonet tipped machinegun in my hand, and the very moment he trains stop we charge out.

I can see the ruin and wreckage of what was once the District Square; buildings lie in ruin and the twisted and smashed remains of rebel machine gun nests do not even attempt to hide the rebel corpses that litter the area. Blood and gore are scattered all around, and limbs are ripped from torso and left sprawled in different places.

It is clear that not enough of the rebel hovercrafts were ready for the off chance that their little genocide might not go forward, the peacekeeper bombers were able to safely make quick work of the rebels in the Square.

Rushing to out from the train station, my division as well as several others fight wi the surviving rebels while several more pour out of every cart on the train. We are able to quickly secure the square, and when rebels scramble to assault us we fire at them.

Our guns rip through them before any of them can take up positions, and many are fall on their faces or even flip forward as a result of the forward momentum pulling their dead bodies.

We have no time to defend the square; we have to keep pushing forward while the rebels are still surprised. Leading my division, we fight our way along the streets leading around the Justice Building; the building itself was blanketed by a cloud of acid fog and any rebels who did not die inside are either in the process of dying or have escaped the building.

As we fight along this route, I notice that their is no sign of the Mockingjay or of any other high ranking rebels. Perhaps this is because they escaped through the courtyard behind the Justice Building.

In any case, they will not survive this battle.

Rebels try firing at us, but we are able to make quick work of them. I am unable to use my bayonet at the moment because the rebels are not close enough to stab.

One rebel throws a grenade in my direction, but we are able to shoot at it and cause it to explode mid air. The fireball does not hurt anyone, but it does distract the rebels long enough for us to finish off this batch.

We march over their corpses as we advance.

Behind me, paratrooper peacekeepers join their comrades on the ground. Tanks and other armored vehicles that were driving down from one of the lower entrances finally reach the Square.

Above me, outnumbered and surprised rebel hovercrafts are ripped apart by more numerous and more aggressive Peacekeeper hovercrafts.

As we rush down the streets, I am able to see the carnage in fullness. Rebels who charge into gunfire or attempt to slide behind cover are gunned down.

The smells of battle fill my nostrils; the citrusy smell of the acid fog, the metallic smell of blood, the salty taste of sweat, and many other smells that made me gag at first but now are second nature.

Behind me, I can see the flag of the Mockingjay being taken down from the District Square Flagpole. It it's place is being raised either the banner of the nation or the peacekeeper flag.

We march down the streets, and ahead of us the peacekeeper hovercrafts attack rebels on the street. This should keep them on edge somewhat.

The center of the city is secure. We must keep pressing if we want to take the rest of it.

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