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War for the Zitar Nuo


One
The Zitar Nuo was the great river set winding between a valley and two mountain ranges. It sat
strategically between the battle-lines of two corporations whom lusted after it. Each company’s
employees were set to fight the other, their machines grinding through the dirt of the riverbanks while
sinking ever deeper into its muck and mire. The soldier’s boots sinking into the mud, sucking on them as
they struggled to break free. Each company’s soldiers running from the massive machines pounding the
muddy ground even more. The men of the Nenthar Corporation set against the Xelon Dru Company.
One must hold the land, power, and only one. The Xelon Dru Corporation slung fire right in the water of
the Nuo pounding the Nenthar Corporation’s loyal soldiers with heavy mortars, fire mortars and then
the gas bombs. The Nenthar’s shrunk from the withering fire, digging into the mud forming a deep
defensive trench line using machines and monster equipment's straight from the factories, the silicon
and steel machine factories.
The Nenthar soldiers sucked precious filtered air in their sealed suits, their air conditioners
strapped to each of their backs, their helmets protecting their face and lungs from the noxious gases.
Their suits also tapped with computer electronics and antenna. Another wave of gas streamed from the
splintering shells as they sank into the muck, plasma shooters and rifles, useless as they dangled from
straps about the Nenthar soldier’s shoulders. Abreon in his suit was a trained Nenthar buried deep into
the pits riding upon the platform of a machine which task was to drill forward and underneath their
defensive line and under no man’s land. The machines drilling auger was steaming hot punching
vertically down under the muddy ground. Abreon turned the machine about, the machine bogging in
the thick mud, as he spoke into a helmet speaker, “Drean, the driller is choking in the muck, it’s not
drilling down any further.”
A mortar flew overhead reaching the location of another Nenthar trench, blowing up soldiers
and equipment. The commander of the corporate unit of 1 Beta, Drean swearing at the blast and yelling
at the struggling Abreon, the driller and Abreon caked in thick brown mud, “Keep drilling! We need the
trench deeper to prepare for the final assault,” referring to an assault over the Zitar Nuo, which would
later prove to be fruitless.
Abreon yanking at the driller controls, but the driller seizing up completely consumed by mud
packed in all around it. He struggled, breathing heavily, sweat pouri ng down his face, behind his mask as
a mortar hit the ground nearby, throwing muck up everywhere. Most of the Nenthar soldiers began to
pull back from the unfinished forward trenches to rearward previous dug in older and deeper bunkers.
They scurried back timidly awaiting the offensive cease-fire that still had yet to occur. Abreon cursing to
himself, giving up on the driller, jumping off as his suit warned him that it was now running off
emergency power. Abreon leaped off the machine into the mud, forcing himself back, through
perpendicular front line tunnels, like a sewer rat. Abreon struggled as a display within his helmet began
flailing red as he pulled himself along, past others and their suits, the mist of poison gas thick. Abreon
yelling to his commander, “Drean help me, damn you!”
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