Chapter III
The Wrath of a Nation
Larnegin was tying up his boots, nice, snazzy, clean. He could smell the leather on them. His clothes were a disgusting green, and he had a small cap for his head. He hated them already, and he knew he was to fight a city battle in them for what could possibly be months. And he didn't even have FLAK ARMOR. Flak Armor, the cardboard of armor for the entire universe he once served in. The music in his mind flitting by unnoticed almost as he just shook his head. As he made to leave his room he stopped long enough to scoop up his rifle. Sighing heavily he left his room.......
…... And ran right into Jacky, “Come on slow ass! Lets get moving!” She said cheerily. She looked down at him from her height, 2 feet higher then him. She was dressed in obviously hand made uniform, made from several other uniforms. Obviously they were going to go for the fact she had a growth problem. Didn't matter. He just ground his teeth and bit back a series of curses and shouts of anger, and marched on towards the deployment deck.
Jacky wouldn't shut up! She kept singing traditional Russian songs and others, loudly trumpeting it as she carried along her rifle like a marching baton, which was ridiculously dwarfed in her massive paws of hands. He could just imagine how brutal close combat she would be, like a ogryn he imagined as he saw the bulky shit brained creatures able to hug to death a Tyranid Ravenor. He thought that Jacky could kill a hive tyrant with her size and smarts. Best just to swallow his pride and let her have her quirky way.
Janeson joined them, smiling wide he soon began to sing along to Jacky, her arm around his shoulders, and his around her back, it was as if they were drunk, singing loudly and poncing around like a pair of pansys. He just skulked compared to them, walking along embarrassed by them. Then Janeson pulled him close as he sang loudly. Sighing Larnegin joined in singing along unwillingly with them.
It was not long before they entered the deployment room. Inside many troopers were milling around, working on their guns, chatting. Seeing the sight of three singing troopers, one ridiculously tall, the other two average sized. They all laughed at that, a few even joined in with the well known and well loved Janeson. A kind man when he joined, and seemingly kinder man after years of war. If a commissar shot him, he would be found shot with his own bolt pistol.
A couple of the men lifted the trooper up on their knees as he lead a chorus in song to their anthem as they marched over to the deployment room's doors. Their ecstatic singing carrying over into the bolted room. Larnegin was unsure of how the Unnamed properly implanted their operatives let alone a force their size without being caught or seen. But as he saw the doors open, his mouth and everyone else dropped open in awe, except for Jacky who just kept singing.
The chamber's size was massive, but that was not the amazing part, throughout the entire place were teleportation platforms. Giant ones, able to convey whole platoons worth of men. Their handler was there, the doctor, Elizabeth Swam. Smiling she waved her hand to crackling fields all around, “Welcome Marines! Welcome to your DDD, Or Deep Deployment Device. Your In-field handler, Donovan, is already in deep cover as a Commissar. Your neural links have been updated. As well as opponents you must kill and objectives that must be achieved as you progress.
She smiled darkly, and removing her glasses with precision she called out, “Staff Sergeant Johnson! You have command. Split them as you see fit!” And like that Johnson called out. “Alright you maggots! Get into squads! Get into Platoons! You won't be with them long but you better get to action now! Times wasting and we don't want to keep the fascists waiting now do we!” He called out and all the men called out a warcry, “That's the spirit! Now move out!”
Larn was carried along in the press. The men around were moving forward, eager and with rifles in hand, many didn't even have that much, just knives in hand. Due to the Soviet's lack of weapons it would be strange to see nearly 300 men just suddenly pop up with weapons and ammo. “Squad A in Platoon 1! Get on the first pad! Squad B! You know the drill. When first platoon is away, second get onto the pads! Charge boys! For the glory of the Unnamed and for mother Russia!” Johnson had gotten a megaphone, and had a different look. Looking like a commissar he had a PPsH smg, and a Tokarev pistol as his side arm. The little thing didn't look very imposing but no one wanted to test it without any armor. “With me comrades!” Sergeant Huolder called out, raising his rifle up and yelled out a cry as he lead his personal squad up onto the pad. A few seconds later after Color sergeant Yukonev pulled himself up with the sickle and hammer, (As the men began to call the flag), they disappeared in a wash of static and electrical power. “Go now and show them hell!” Jard called out, leading Larnegin's squad now as he pushed forward. Larn had no second thoughts, Jacky jumping up like it was a little step She pulled both Larn and Janeson up. “Come on boys! Lets kick some Nazi ass!” Leading the cry they were teleported to a barren place that shunned such calls. On the opposite side of the Volga they appeared, getting in line quietly, for the boats to cross the river.............. .
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