Post by En1gma on Aug 11, 2017 8:41:28 GMT -5
Part of a larger planned fanfic, this is more of a practice for how the SS would deploy, engage, and execute orders within a larger scope battle. Input is always welcome, especially concerning the tactics/equipment/command structures you think the SS would employ.
There was a sickening jolt, then a wave of nausea cascaded over the troopers strapped tightly into the drop pod. Free of the transport, a powerful acceleration rocked the craft and everything went dark, save for the emergency lights illuminating the walkway. Two-hundred heads snapped to the front to see the tac-screen flicker on.
Somebody lit a cigar, and its putrid smoke wafted over my face but I paid it no mind. Phillip liked his tobics and to tell him off would just result in him blowing every puff he took my way. Air scrubbers turned on in response, and the smoke was sucked down through the floor grates. Still smelled like shit though.
“Alright listen up Steel Song-- Company Commander Axton here.” His voice sounded even raspier over these beat up comms. My HUD blinked on and began augmenting his orders with real time info-streams no doubt beaming over a connection with the Rychart. Prissy bastards, but damn could they be useful. “Rychart and Templar command have found five points of interest, with weak signals emitting from various wrecks and structures.” It was hard not to be impressed with the rapidly changing info as each target was highlighted and displayed in turn. Whatever update they pushed to our tac-net was ages beyond what we had been using for decades.
“Your assignment is as follows-- you will secure each target, and upload every single iota of data from anything with a data-port you can find. Once this is complete, we will begin setting up our hard tac-net and comms systems. Rychart's Data Mining engineers will sift through the uploaded information and once we have a grasp of the situation we begin phase two. Stay safe out there and exercise extreme caution. I shouldn’t have to say this, but whatever took down the system and the Templar Cruiser is still out there, so watch your backs.”
The screen blinked and our drop zone came up: half a click away from a building still standing among a maze of craters and scorch marks. Our HUD displayed the exact point we would be setting down, and our infil point to the massive structure. The display showed eight full drop ships landing for this one target, and I grinned just thinking about the firepower we were capable of unleashing with sixteen-hundred men and women.
“Yeah great, a building-- anyone got a fookin map of the thing,” someone yelled, eliciting a laugh from some of those seated beside me. The screen focused in a bit and showed a blueprint overlay over the structure. The space grew silent as we comprehended the scope of the building. “This is an Indy world, right? Then what the hell is this doing here?” It had the exact layout of a Steel Song Fortress. Not the entire thing, but the deep space scan relay, troop barracks, and weapons platforms. The look of the building was changed to look like some warehouse or office building, but the main design elements were unmistakably ours.
“Pull up the other targets on screen,” I yelled over the din of the drop pod, and I watched as the other four buildings had their respective overlays. A Zenrin military bunker, the still smouldering wreckage of a Cadarian Cruiser (further identified as one thought lost twenty years ago), the Steel Song PDF, and a pair of Indy heavy lifts-- velocity and impact recreation showed them trying to flee but were shot down as they tried to escape. You could hear each and every soldier tighten their grip on their hex-shell rifles as we realized the magnitude of our assignment. The Alliance was quite possibly walking into a trap, and we all knew it.
“Everybody shut the fuck up and make ready to make landfall. Sensors are clean and we have our green light. Two minutes ‘till landing, let’s do this by the books.”
There was a sickening jolt, then a wave of nausea cascaded over the troopers strapped tightly into the drop pod. Free of the transport, a powerful acceleration rocked the craft and everything went dark, save for the emergency lights illuminating the walkway. Two-hundred heads snapped to the front to see the tac-screen flicker on.
Somebody lit a cigar, and its putrid smoke wafted over my face but I paid it no mind. Phillip liked his tobics and to tell him off would just result in him blowing every puff he took my way. Air scrubbers turned on in response, and the smoke was sucked down through the floor grates. Still smelled like shit though.
“Alright listen up Steel Song-- Company Commander Axton here.” His voice sounded even raspier over these beat up comms. My HUD blinked on and began augmenting his orders with real time info-streams no doubt beaming over a connection with the Rychart. Prissy bastards, but damn could they be useful. “Rychart and Templar command have found five points of interest, with weak signals emitting from various wrecks and structures.” It was hard not to be impressed with the rapidly changing info as each target was highlighted and displayed in turn. Whatever update they pushed to our tac-net was ages beyond what we had been using for decades.
“Your assignment is as follows-- you will secure each target, and upload every single iota of data from anything with a data-port you can find. Once this is complete, we will begin setting up our hard tac-net and comms systems. Rychart's Data Mining engineers will sift through the uploaded information and once we have a grasp of the situation we begin phase two. Stay safe out there and exercise extreme caution. I shouldn’t have to say this, but whatever took down the system and the Templar Cruiser is still out there, so watch your backs.”
The screen blinked and our drop zone came up: half a click away from a building still standing among a maze of craters and scorch marks. Our HUD displayed the exact point we would be setting down, and our infil point to the massive structure. The display showed eight full drop ships landing for this one target, and I grinned just thinking about the firepower we were capable of unleashing with sixteen-hundred men and women.
“Yeah great, a building-- anyone got a fookin map of the thing,” someone yelled, eliciting a laugh from some of those seated beside me. The screen focused in a bit and showed a blueprint overlay over the structure. The space grew silent as we comprehended the scope of the building. “This is an Indy world, right? Then what the hell is this doing here?” It had the exact layout of a Steel Song Fortress. Not the entire thing, but the deep space scan relay, troop barracks, and weapons platforms. The look of the building was changed to look like some warehouse or office building, but the main design elements were unmistakably ours.
“Pull up the other targets on screen,” I yelled over the din of the drop pod, and I watched as the other four buildings had their respective overlays. A Zenrin military bunker, the still smouldering wreckage of a Cadarian Cruiser (further identified as one thought lost twenty years ago), the Steel Song PDF, and a pair of Indy heavy lifts-- velocity and impact recreation showed them trying to flee but were shot down as they tried to escape. You could hear each and every soldier tighten their grip on their hex-shell rifles as we realized the magnitude of our assignment. The Alliance was quite possibly walking into a trap, and we all knew it.
“Everybody shut the fuck up and make ready to make landfall. Sensors are clean and we have our green light. Two minutes ‘till landing, let’s do this by the books.”
