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War is Chaos	By : Penrose Category: +S through Z > Valkyria Chronicles Views: 2589 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Valkyria Chronicles and I will not make any money from this work of fiction

Chapter List
- 1-War is Chaos
- 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Valkyria chronicles and will not make money from this worth of fan fiction.
This story is based on the mission 'Flower of the Battlefield' - I hope you enjoy reading it! There is no sex *hey come back here!!* but there is some pretty cool death and slaughter in it, so y'know give it a go, worst you can do is not like it!
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Squad 7 looked out on the grassy plain to their front, a gentle breeze made the waist deep grass bend and sway in a hypnotic dance. The refugee camp to their back was a hubbub of frenzied activity, people desperate to get away from the approaching Imperial death squad.

Marina Wulfstan studied the situation in front of her, the gentle and familiar rumble of Imperial tanks in the distance, the panic of civilians behind them and always between the two was Squad 7. Today it was time to deal with those fucking cowards attacking innocents again as a distraction, as if genocide was a valid tactic in warfare. She checked the ammo strap attached from her waist to her shoulder, the low calibre bullets fastened tightly across her chest, solid Ragnite slugs perfect for the high velocity long barrelled sniper rifle that rested against her shoulder.
“Marina, you and Dallas will take the hill and cause some mayhem, kill as many as you can and get back here!” Lieutenant Welkin shouted over the din of the Edelweiss’ engine.
Marina turned her head and her one visible eye caught the commander with a dark glare, her other eye concealed with a curtain of her jet black hair, she watched Welkin’s face as he rethought.
“You’re on your own, Dallas, keep yourself close to me. Marina, you have enough bullets?”
“Fifteen. I won’t miss.” She said in her soft, quiet voice before she set off running to the grassy knoll.

The battlefield was a familiar and terrible place most of the time, today it was quiet, nothing but the wind in her ears and the usual birds scattering as if they knew of the impending chaos about to reign. She stopped and dropped to a knee, rifle to her shoulder, her eye focused through the scope and came face to face with an enemy Lancer. She pulled the trigger, felt the impact of the rifle on her shoulder and watched the man’s face explode.
The bare second passed, Marina’s favourite second of any battle between the first strike, the first fountain of blood and the looks of horror from the man’s now former comrades as they realised they were under attack, the big man was on the floor before the rest of them heard the shot. Marina stood and sprinted to the top of her designated hill and dropped into the grass.

Marina watched the enemy fan out and take battle formations and realised this one was going to be big. She sat up in the grass, her back to the large rock behind her and gestured to Lieutenant Welkin, hand signals wordlessly communicating two heavy tanks, one medium tank, nineteen infantry, the Lieutenant made the confirmation gesture. There was a loud thud and a screaming whistle as a bullet smacked against the rock behind her and flew away.
In a reflex action she snapped into position, rifle at her shoulder and saw the enemy sniper working the bolt action on his rifle in the open, Marina was astonished at his stupidity, his arrogance at firing at another sniper from open ground. She aimed for his heart and fired, the bullet blowing a hole in his chest right where she wanted it, the first rule of a sniper, never miss. The last lesson that guy would never learn.
She locked the final bullet into the barrel, slipped around the side of the rock and spotted a gleaming gold badge on an officer, a scout maybe from the light armour, the man’s head drifted into her sniper sights and she squeezed the trigger, the bullet speared him between the eyes, a red spray of blood and brains flying out behind him as his knees buckled.
Three rounds fired, three kills.

Marina slipped bullets from her ammo belt and clicked them into the rifle, she heard the rest of Squad 7 moving, shuffling in the grass and she waited her next opportunity, huddling in the grass, being as silent and undetectable as she could be, knowing when to strike was as important as hitting the target.
A rumble ran through the ground as the biggest heavy tank rolled close to her, a knot formed in her stomach as it crept closer and closer, she had given away her position on her last shot, this guy had picked up on it quicker than most, she saw the angry machine gun searching the grass, one gust could give her away. A flare of heat hit her front as a rocket slammed into the back of the tank, bringing a Lancer with them hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. Marina saw two Troopers stand up from the grass barely thirty metres distant, she rose a second after them.
The two troopers levelled their guns at Largo, Marina lined up a shot and fired, hitting the back one in the head first, working the bolt on her rifle without lowering it from her shoulder and fired again, the shot was a little panicked and the bullet nicked the man’s neck, his hand slapped over it and he fell to his knees.

The adrenaline started flowing through her, a scout ran to the man’s side and she watched the trooper raise a finger, an accusing finger pointing straight to her position, another one of those horrible moments of the battlefield that kept Marina excited, beautiful drama. One bullet, two men to kill. The scout looked her way and started a jinking run towards her position, she felt anticipation well up like a fire inside her, she aimed and fired again, spearing the trooper through the head properly, no hand on the wound this time. No more bullets and a scout bearing down on her position. Marina slid down to her belly, pressed herself to the floor as the thudding footsteps approached, she heard a roar saw Largo spring up from the grass and smash the enemy in the face with the heavy lance. Luck was another part of the battlefield, Largo sprinted off towards the heavy tank fifty metres away, adios to him for now. Marina carefully reloaded with quivering hands.

The battle all around her heated up, tank shells exploded, constant gunfire came from every sector, screams from an enemy calling for his mother somewhere in the long grass, Marina wanted to find him and put a bullet between his eyes. War was a horrible enough thing without someone reminding her that she was shooting real people and that boy’s mother wouldn’t hear from him again, life was rough but war was pure chaos, pure lunacy. She slammed the bolt closed on her rifle and shouldered it again.
The Edelweiss fired again and again, shells crashing down into the long grass hoping to flush the enemy out of hiding, Marina swept the area around where the shells impacted, saw a man panic and stand up fired on instinct, watched the familiar red spray of blood surround his head like a halo as his brains flew out the back of his head. Poor bastard. More shells impacted, more red spray of guts and gore showering the area as the Edelweiss scored a direct hit, the enemy had been halted, they had thrown what they had and been stopped dead by Squad 7.
Another man stood in panic and Marina took his knee, he went straight back down to the ground screaming like a baby. She worked the bolt and the last bullet slid into the chamber, her eye took the scope again.

There was nothing she could see for the moment, even the Edelweiss had stopped firing when it happened. Her scope went Imperial red, and she realised it was already too late, she looked up at the two troopers stood above her, they had climbed her little hill and she was in deep, deep shit. She pulled the trigger on her rifle and shot the nearer of the two at point blank range, left the rifle and ran for her life.
Three steps through the long grass and she heard his first shot, the slug clipped through the grass near her feet, the next whistled past her ear close enough so she could feel the heat of the metal on her skin, the third missed completely and a flash of hope went through her that the last two bullets would be as wild as the first three. The hope ended when she felt the bullet slam into her flailing hand, ripping it in two with a horrible tearing and an explosion of blood, she watched her ring finger fly ten feet in front of her as it was blown off completely. Marina almost had time to scream before the last shot slammed into her back and flew out of her front just under her right breast, her breath was torn from her body and she fell flat on her face, just out of the patch of long grass.

Marina held her breath despite everything, she was lung shot and she knew it, blood flooded into her throat and she coughed it out as she tried to frantically crawl away, her ruined hand not gaining any purchase in the dirt, tears fell from her eyes and she knew it was her turn.
The Imperial wasn’t done, he loomed over her and brought his rifle up, bayonet pointing downwards. This was the moment in the moving pictures where the forgotten squad member rushes into frame and knocks the bad guy off his feet, where a gunshot went off and she was saved by a friend, that was when the cold and icy realisation came, she didn’t have any friends.

The bayonet slammed into her guts, six inches of frigid steel tearing through flesh. Marina let out a sharp, horrible cry stifled by the foamy blood welling up in her throat, a strangled scream left her and she felt the cold steel slide out of her belly. Through watery eyes she watched the man raise the bayonet again and bring it down hard at her face, she caught it with her free hand and tried to wrap her ruined hand around it, the sharp edge ripping the skin of her hands open and blood streamed down her wrists, her arms were covered with free flowing blood and her teeth clenched so hard she thought they were going to break.
“Fuck off.” She spat, “Just... Just fuck off!”
The trooper pulled the rifle back and slammed the bayonet into her shoulder, it didn’t seem to make much of a difference now, blood spread across her sky blue uniform from the gunshot and stab wounds.
“Stop, stop it, I’m dead already can’t you see? I’m fucking dead!” She sobbed like a child in the playground, puking more blood onto her uniform.
“You shot my friend in the neck, you deserve this.” The Imperial growled at her and pulled the bayonet away, calmly reloaded, in seeming slow motion he pointed and fired point blank into her chest again, turned, and ran away to towards the Imperial camp.

Marina Wulfstan lay staring into the afternoon sky, so blue. She knew it would be her turn eventually in that slaughterhouse of a war, God knew she had killed enough people to deserve a death like this.
Her mind drifted to Isara getting shot, how the squad huddled around her listening to that final eulogy, cried for her, buried her with honours and flowers. It seemed to fitting for the Darcsen to die like that, surrounded by friends and loved ones, just as it seemed fitting now that Marina herself lay bereft of company, alone in life and alone in death, nobody to mourn and nobody to care as she spat the last few moments of her life onto her uniform, the powder burns from the point blank shot fizzling under the wetness of the blood.
The edges of her vision tunnelled as the blood loss took its final toll, eight people dead in one battle all from her rifle. She might have told herself it wasn’t fair to go like this, that she didn’t deserve such a brutal death, that Imperial didn’t have to stab her even after he had shot her up, that last round into her chest was just uncalled for, but she was nothing if not honest. Of course she deserved it, she deserved it from the first time she had fired a rifle and taken another away.
That was how the world was going to end for Marina, lonely and cold in a meadow with nobody to comfort her, nobody to cry over her. Oddly enough she realised that was how she wanted it, at least with nobody around to cry she didn’t have to start regretting her life, she didn’t have to regret not making friends, or even close company in the Squad.
It was painful, it seemed unfair, but that was life, or maybe it was death. She didn’t care to philosophise anymore. Marina let out one last breath and let the icy chill pull her down.

End. (obviously)
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War is Chaos