Talizabeth's Legacy

[Tristar]

There was tension in the air- he felt it, and so did the rest of the strike team. Everyone of them, all experienced members who had several years of service to their names and twice as many kills- none knew what failure meant and weren't eager to find out. They were seated within the cramped quarters of a drop ship modified for a stealthy fly-by as they soared across the black skies. It was a cloudy night with no visible light save for the moons but as far as everyone was concerned they were just the boogeymen painted black. Commandos, all of them.

And he was to lead them all. Fiddling with his DC-15A blaster, the trooper gave the compartment a quick scan of faces- none of them showed any signs of breaking. Yet he was still very much worried; there was a wild card. Newboy, he called him. Vin Corrin as he adamantly called himself but to the rest he was still pretty much boot as frakk. He had no interest in learning more about him than he ought to know, but was glad for his skill set regardless. Thyferra may have lush forests and dark swamps but the cities were where it was at. Tapping his helmet, he caught the attention of everyone else within the compartment before launching into a speech.

"Troopers- class time's in session. Talizabeth Outpost's been laid siege and it's up to us to break 'em out. Intelligence confirms they're not pirates or rebels, so all evidence points towards mercenaries or other external factors- could be the Hutts, though we've yet to have any confirmation on that." Hutts. Smugglers and beefed up pirates who lacked small unit tactics and their large scale invasions usually started with a bombardment before launching a ground invasion with heavy focus on overpowering the enemy rather than quick surgical blows. This was not their style, which meant mercenaries, and experienced mercenaries too. That was a scary thought- his last encounter with mercenaries had nearly cost him his life and Ishale's arm.

"Though OPFOR has the outpost surrounded, we've a few of our boys who've managed to sneak past the siege and set up contact with us. A small squad- we'll designate them as ALBION. Think anyone's around us, challenge word's Flash, countersign is Thunder. ALBION's been informed. We're to link up with them and get a further briefing on ground news, but we've an actual objective." He uploaded a holographic image of a turbolaser battery, the size of a 2 story building with its quad-barrels pointed upwards idly, with the shadow of a smaller gun with its base set up on a half-blown up building next to the turbolaser. It rotated in the middle of the compartment, fuzzing as the blue imagery tried to maintain stability.

"AA Guns. OPFOR has 'em set up not 7 klicks from the dropzone, another 2 from our main contact point. That thing's got a sphere of influence around 5 and a half klick with enough punch to knock out a bird out of the sky with a round, while the peashooter's got a smaller one for minor distractions- 2 to about 3 and a quarter. Once we link up with our contact, we hike to the ack-acks- designated GORGON- and knock it out with charges. Once it's down, fire a red flare and wait for the counter-flare; green. That's our confirmation that the rest of the garrison's out to fly. Then we sit down tight and await the shit storm that's gonna be headed our way until the evac is complete before heading to the extraction point- 10 klicks, out of the city. Shuttle'l be waitin' for us." he concluded even as the restriction bars lifted off of his chest. There was a muffled thump as their ride deposited itself gracefully onto their landing zone, the engines slowly humming. There was a rattle of activity as the soldiers performed last minute checks on their equipment. Corric for one activated his night-vision and found it working in perfect condition. Standing up, he shouldered his rifle and banged the barrier between them and the pilots.

The interior lights flashed green even as the bay door fell open softly, hissing like a rattle snakes. In the pitch dark, the quiet squelch of 16 night-vision goggles marked the only signs of life in the empty courtyard as matte-black troopers slowly creeped out of the shuttle, guns aiming around them. Taking advantage of the split second before the silence fell, Corric whispered. "Alright boys you heard the man- time for some hazard pay." A navigation marker flicked brightly on every individual soldier's HUD pointing towards south-west through a set of narrow buildings that opened up into a deserted highway. All was silent. All was dark.

Beware beware, they've come to snuff your spark.

 

[Phoenix]

Vin knew he was going to be under scrutiny in this operation, but he wasn’t about to let it get to him. Just one more day at the office. That’s all this was. He had plenty of experience in the military, but had yet to really make his bones in the 501st, but there was plenty of time for that. The attitudes he had received were not foreign to him at all. He’d been switched around units before and the attitudes toward replacements were often not particularly amiable. Time would change that, but for now he was going to focus on his job in this whole operation.

The last thing that he needed on his mind was to be acting like some cursed recruit who was just out to impress the other guys. He had a job to do and that was independent of what anyone here thought of him. Do your job well and people would respect him without even making an effort.

He listened to the briefing, absorbing all the information that he could. Knowledge, even flawed knowledge, was one of the most underrated things on the battlefield. It could easily save your life, or take it from you. The operation sounded fairly straightforward in its layout. A strike and raid was fairly standard within their scope of operations, but the mercenaries might be a bit of an issue.

Mercenaries weren’t ideal as it was likely that many of them would have even been former Imperial soldiers themselves, which meant that they knew a thing or two about how they would operate tonight. That wasn’t what they needed, though at least they still had the benefit of surprise.

As the shuttle set down and troopers began to disembark, dressed in black as if the grim reaper himself were among them, his NVGs kicked in and lit up the whole city green. Cities were all fine and dandy with him. They were where he had first learned to do sniping and they offered no shortage of areas for him to take up position if and when the time came. Of course, the flip side to that was that there were also plenty of positions for OpFor snipers to set up as well, and he didn’t plan to have a mercenary sniper outplay him.

The marker flicked to life in his HUD and he knew that the game was afoot. Being a scout, he took position at the front of the pack as they moved silently through the alleyway. It took a great deal of training to move as quietly as these men did in full armor, but that’s why they were the best.

There were slight puddles standing in the alleyway from what he had to assume had been recent rain, and as he made his way forward, even within his armor, Vin could tell that it was disgustingly humid outside. Weather reports that he had looked at before coming had estimated humidity to be at 75% and he figured it had to be just wonderful to live here.

The alley was empty save for a few scurrying rodents, but he kept his E75 rifle raised, tracking every place his eyes went until he finally came to the end, which dumped into what looked to be a main thoroughfare, or at least it had been at one point.

The problem, as he saw it, with such a highway was that it was wide, open, and coverless. He took a quick knee and scanned the buildings on the other side of the street looking for threats. He looked back to ensure that the other troopers were set up to cover him before moving, low and quick, as he crossed to the other side finding cover between another pair of buildings. With his rifle still raised and alert, he spoke quietly into coms. Even though he knew the sound wouldn’t escape his helmet, it was always better to be safe than dead.

“Clear. Next,” he said, indicating readiness for the next man to come, his rifle still tracking over the deserted buildings looking for any new enemies that might appear.

 

[Tristar]

Hearing the radio announcement nearly made him swear out loud- he'd forgotten the radio rules. He kept it in for the entire time as the whole squad silently glided over the highway and across the street. The gun-marked shop lots cast a foreboding look over the night hunters as they took refuge inside of a bakery, its front windows blown inwards possibly from the ghost of the explosion that marked a deep crater in the middle of the street as well. The garrison it seems didn't let themselves get sieged without putting up a hard fight, though the rotting body strewn on the counter bore the gray uniform of a military garrison. Sometimes effort didn't dictate victory it seems.
The soldiers ran a quick check of the perimeter and the confirmation came through a single tap on the shoulder that they were in the clear for their short resting spot. Then Corric let the man have it. "Newboy." he whispered angrily, beckoning a finger at the boot. "You break radio silence again I'm going to shove my boot so far up your ass you'll be drooling boot polish." Nobody defended the rookie but there was tension in the air- nobody wanted an ass chewing in the middle of an operation and it was rare, considering the soldiers did all they could to avoid one in the first place.
Vin wasn't getting his ass chewed because of his mistake- he was getting it chewed so that it didn't happen again. Corric let the message sink into the rookie before rounding them up again, sending a more experienced member up as the pointman. As much as he would like to give Vin a chance, they were so far in deep enemy territory that he was surprised that he wasn't breathing their cologne. Quick, steady pacing as they half ran, half walked through the maze of grey and black, dodging empty craters and burnt vehicles that told unspoken stories of the city's inhabitants. They had to walk past the body of a six year old clutching the body of a woman, cut down from her waist down and filling the alley with so much blood they took 5 minutes trying to navigate the puddle without stepping on the slick red stain. He stood and watch the scene, trying to imagine what would've went through the head of the woman as she hugged her dying child. Numerous possibilities went through his head but what disturbed him was the fact that he couldn't feel anything for them- not vengeful anger, not weeping sadness and certainly not pity. Was it a sign that he'd become more and more of a mindless droid?
He shrugged it off- another disturbing sign- and tentatively stepped over their bodies. They moved through and eventually covered the distance to the point of contact- a street away in fact. Peering from behind a street corner, the point man inched closer and closer to the side, wary of...something. Corric noticed it as well- bodies, Littered, strewn about like limp rag dolls, but no explosive markers and no walls riddled with bullet holes. In fact, their deaths seemed unnatural, their faces marked with terror and a blank look of unknowing.

It was half a second late as he whispered loudly, "Snipers.", just as the point man inched out too far to the side. The shooter must've jumped the gun, because the soldier managed to reel away from the exploding edge but not before having taken a good look where the thin vapour originated from. Clutching his chest which was thankfully still intact, he looked at Corric, no doubt thanking whatever deity he prayed to. "Third story, second window from the right. Far left of the street." Corric nodded at the man. He grabbed Vin's shoulders and gave him a little push- not too hard, but not too soft- and gave him his orders. "Give him our gift basket."

 

[Phoenix]

It wasn’t so shocking that something went wrong. It always did when you moved to a new team, he just would have preferred it to happen a little bit later. On the bright side, things could have gone a lot worse. As Corric gave him a less than gentle reprimand, Vin sat in silence. He had no interest in getting into a pissing match right now, and arguing really wouldn’t have accomplished anything at all except earn him animosity, something he wasn’t out to do.

He thought back to the briefing and didn’t remember anything about radio silence being mentioned, but that may have just been one of those implied things when you went to a new unit, though he thought it was strange that it hadn’t been that way during his mission with the 501st on Boz Pity.

He was a bit disappointed to be moved off of point, but again, arguing wouldn’t accomplish anything and he wasn’t about to get someone killed by taking the time to argue in the middle of a battlefield. He was a professional after all and his ego wasn’t worth the effort.

The grotesque scene that greeted them a few minutes later was terrible to say the least. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen death before, but it never really became easy to see a mother and child gutted and left to rot in the street. He took solace in the fact that judgment was coming for those who caused it, whether they knew it yet or not.

Vin could see the point man ahead peeking a corner and put together what was going on just as he heard Corric say it as well. The realization seemed to have struck all of them at the same time because the man on point only narrowly missed a round to the chest. In fact, it was so close Vin wouldn’t have been surprised if it had left a scorch mark against the man’s armor.

He was already unslinging his DE7 when Corric began pushing him forward and giving orders. A silent nod was the only reply he gave, not particularly eager to speak again at the moment, and his mind turned wholly to the enemy sniper. Third story, second window from the right. That was where his target sat.

Peeking the corner again would be tantamount to suicide, so that was out of the question. Winning a fight like this was all about being smarter than the other guy, and of course, getting a good firing position. To that end, he moved back down the alley a few feet to a door to the building next to him, and gently opened it. It swung open without a sound and he found himself in what might formerly have been a nice kitchen, in which the door he had come in was meant to take out the garbage to the back alley.

He cradled his rifle in his arms and crawled on the floor toward the front of the restaurant. Only about half of the windows actually had glass anymore after the pulverization of the city and he set himself up so that his shot, when he fired it, would travel through one of these shattered windows. He was by no means set up at the front of the restaurant, but instead would fire from a position of concealment, prone on the floor behind a pair of chairs.

His rifle peaked through the legs of the chair as he began to scan the previously indicated building. Normally, a sniper would reposition after his shots, but the man had missed and would know to keep the squad pinned in place while he called in reinforcements, which was, of course, the bigger issue here. The squad would not do well to be up against the entire enemy assault force in a prolonged firefight.

His rifle swiveled ever so slightly as he let his scope fall on the window in question. It took a good 20 seconds to see anything, but after a moment, he could see the slightest movement inside. Like Vin, the man had chosen to fire from concealment inside the room, but unfortunately for the other man, Vin knew where he was and not vice versa.

His pulse slowed slightly as he steadied his breathing. The scope came to rest just on the crouched sniper’s sternum as his finger tightened ever so slightly around the trigger. The rifle bucked as a round ripped out the barrel and directly into the target’s center of mass. He waited a few moments for any kind of movement, but there was none.

All seemed to be going well. At least for a moment. Appearing from just beyond the building that the OpFor sniper had perched up in were what looked like a half dozen well-armed mercenaries, no doubt called in by the sniper after seeing a fully armored Stormtrooper peeking the corner.

He shifted his sights to the incoming men, but didn’t open fire. If talking on the coms could get him in trouble, opening fire without orders would really get him chewed out or worse.

 

[Tristar]

There was a rustle, then a hustle and then awkward silence as the rookie slipped off to the sidelines in pursuit of an advantageous position. As the corpsman took a look at their point man, Corric signaled the rest of the unit to stick close to the walls and motioned that he was going to check things out by the corner. He slid softly, taking care to not scrape his boots on the pavement; if the sniper had missed once, he undoubtedly wouldn't miss again. His toes nudged against a small pebble and a thought flashed in his mind.

Hidden, the rifle perched on the length of the study table the sniper silently cursed to himself- he was missing a spotter and he had been on overwatch for nearly a full day by himself. Energy was at a bare minimum and he didn't dare to pick up the coffee mug just yet. Caffeine would only give him the jitters. The only comfort he had was that a squad was enroute to his position to help choke the foe out of any forward avenue to the city's center- his bloodshot eyes couldn't make out a uniform or insignia, only catching the slight ripple in the midnight air, which for sure did not make his contact one of the garrisoned troops. He had 21 marks up on his own rifle and knew how they reacted in this situation- no, this was something far more deadlier.
He kept an eye on the end of the street regardless, breathing slowly; no doubt they were planning something- damn him and his stupid reactions! If he had waited a few seconds more his shot would have bit slightly more feasible, and there'd be an even number on the stock of his rifle. A minute passed, sweat was starting to form around the grip of his weapon. He blinked and suppressed the urge to sneeze violentl- a movement!

At that exact moment when Corric kicked the pebble onto the street did Vin fire his shot, terminating the threat in a single wispy trail of dissipating heat. The pebble rolled to a gentle stop as blood leaked out from the gaping hole, charred and chunked- the devastating impact of the DE-7s round as it traveled through and exited the sniper's body, leaving an abstract work of art from his blood. Darkness hid the splatter as slick blood slowly dripped down from the wall, taking with it a chunk of meat that used to be part of his heart. Peeking around the corner just in time to catch the stunning act of marksmanship, Corric's eyes and ears immediately centered in on a new source of distress. Boots trampled the ground, the clacking and ripping of firing bolts as enemy infantry swung out from the corner, 7 men strong from his position, an individual lagging behind carrying a bipod for what looked like a mounted repeater. The grip around his DC-15A tightened reactively- resistance this early on and they still hadn't linked up with their informants.
He went back to the soldiers crouched with their backs against the wall, eyes expectantly staring at him from behind their black visors. 14 men, against 7 but with a dangerous force multiplier of an entrenched weapon that had yet to be set up....HIs chances was tipped to his side with the addition of a hidden unit on overwatch, who thankfully hadn't released a round yet. In the street that they were on, if they were to ignore the turning on his right would go on for a good length with numerous exits to alleyways and was what Corric could only deem as a high density street- a cargo truck lay upturned in the middle of the street, its rear end poking out from the opposite end of the split off point to the sniper's perch. It had solid cover, but not very effective line of sight against the infantry bundle headed their way- but someone could climb and lay prone atop of the cargo container. A vantage point as good as any for them. Next to the others his choice of weaponry gave him the unofficial role of a designated marksman. Patting the shoulder of his second-in-command, Corporal Sael, he laid out the plan to him- he would lead half the squad to the opposite side of the street and assumed positions around the cargo truck and initiate a rifle volley to suppress the unit. Meanwhile the remainder would fill in the gaps between each volley to keep up maximum fire superiority effect on the bastards while he himself would make his way to Vin and act as his spotter.

A quick nod transmitted their acknowledgement clearly- his feet barely left the ground as the unit began to prep themselves for a dash. He slid into the restaurant, clicking on his transmitter once to let Vin know he was coming. Spotting the prone figure of the squad's sniper, he went into a commando crawl and slowly inched forward until he was neck to neck with the soldier and propped his rifle in between the legs of a chair to Vin's right. Before the soldier could say something, the corporal aimed his barrel 2 inches to the left and centered in on the point man who carried a rapid-fire repeater. "Rookie," he whispered, not letting his aim detract from the center mass of the enemy's lead. "Straggler, at the rear of the group- knock him out before he can set up the squad's HMG. On my count."

Alan's squad had rushed over to 8th Bay Street as fast as they could, stopping halfway to pick up a heavy repeater as a contingency- the man they had placed to overlook the street had called them in not a few minutes ago and was silent for the longest time. The veteran could only growl to himself in anger. It was partly his fault. He hadn't anyone else to spare and Samuel was the most experienced man in his branch that he'd known in the unit- he didn't want to let a greenhorn take the job for fear that he might bungle up the job. The only problem was that after the first day, he couldn't find any other similarly experienced man to cover his post and had to let Samuel in his post for just a little bit longer.
And now Samuel was dead and they were among the dead, taking each step cautiously for fear of the unknown. Samuel wasn't the kind to call a false alarm though he was starting to get increasingly paranoid- no movement, no flash of grey fabric to signal the rogue garrison unit that they had been hunting the past few days. Something was annoying him- it was nagging sensation that someone was looking at him, you know? Something at the back of his neck tingled. The street was empty, full of litter perhaps but empty. A hardware store, hotel, the blown out front of an upper-class eatery with the pieces of the glass shining from the rays of the moonli-

Alan did not have half the second required to fully process his mistake before Corric's bolt loosed from the barrel, travelling at supersonic speeds to clear through the combat rig's laughable bulletproof protection before rupturing his lungs and frying the insides that came into close proximity to the energy lance. Sael's unit flashed momentarily as they crossed the street in a few distant steps even as the remaining infantry fired the first volley that sent the OpFor into disarray. Corric's ambush had been triggered.

Now was not the time for silence of the mouth but silence of the grave.

 

[Phoenix]

The slight click to indicate a friendly unit come in sounded in his ear. He remained calm as there was a slight rustling of someone coming into his building and moments later Corric appeared next to him. The Corporal had set up a position just to his side, sticking that rifle of his through the legs of another chair.

He listened closely to Corric’s orders and shifted his aim. There he was. The straggler at the back of the group had short-cropped hair and seemed to be several inches shorter than the other guys in the squad; but stocky. He was by no means weak and certainly looked like he was used to lugging around the tripod for that rather large repeating blaster.

All of this came as he looked through the scope attached to the rifle he was going to use to kill this same man he was examining. That was the strange thing about being a sniper. You had to be willing and mentally prepared to shoot people that never knew you were there. When they weren’t looking or ready to shoot back.

He awaited the signal from Corric and upon receiving it, let loose another single round from his rifle. He did love this rifle. So much power and accuracy wrapped up into one neat package. The round left the barrel and cut through the air at 3,000 FPS until it impacted against its target. It tore through his armor and cut just through the man’s sternum, shredding his heart and leaving him to fall to the ground dead.

The squad had done pretty good work cutting down the OpFor team, but they were going to have to move fast and soon or they were going to be overrun by more mercenaries.



The stocky man was getting a little bit tired of always being the one to carry the tripod, I mean the thing weighed like 30 lbs. It was no small feat and somehow he was always the one to do it.

The streets were really quite clear which seemed a little strange. If they had been called in he would have expected to see something else moving, but now there was nothing. One more reason he shouldn’t be carrying this stupid tripod. Nobody was even out here.

A split second later the silence was severed by a blaster bolt shredding the point man and before he could even react, he felt a burn in his own chest. He coughed slightly and blood came out of his mouth. The tripod fell from his hand as the muscles in his hand unintentionally loosened. His body fell backward from the punch of the rifle’s bolt and he hit the ground… hard. Then everything started to go black.

 

[Tristar]

The element of surprise was one of the most deadliest military assets available to any armed force- no amount of planning, technological and numerical advantage could ever hope to muster a significant defense against a threat they did not expect to see coming, and executed with such vigorous and murderous efficiency. The enemy hadn't a split second to comprehend the situation before losing 2 men in one go, with 1 more struck in the chest from the volume of fire headed their way. If they had better communication among themselves, might be they'd be able to maintain some form of rudimentary defense not far away from the position, in a crater on the street with rubble around it serving as effective if temporary cover. Corric wasn't going to let them realize that anytime soon and redirected his fire to cut them off from the best possible avenue for them.
What was left of the fireteam however, either fell to one knee and let off a few rounds before being snuffed out from the enfilading fire from Vin and himself or in the curious case of one particular man, fell into a fetal position and began screaming loudly to himself. It was a pathetic sight, and the shots weren't getting any closer- Corric had enough. "Cease fire!" he called out from the side of the restaurant, running into a street and waving his left hand at his fire teams. Discipline took hold, and the torrent ceased.
It wasn't that Corric was sympathetic with the poor bastard. He just felt there was a more efficient way in dealing with things in life- kicking the man over that his face stared upwards at him, Corric unsheathed his personal weapon and-

The jagged edges was probably overkill, he thought, wiping the blade on the corpse's shirt. But it was meant as a last minute defense to cut through armor, not execute a shell-shocked victim, and that was enough justification for Corric. Raising an two fingers and twirling them above his head, Corric signaled the squad to converge on his point in the center of the street, pointing out at several members to police the dead. "We'll need to double time, reach the city center and make contact with our people." he whispered aggressively, knife-handing down the street, where the opening to a large plaza loomed in the distance- not officially the center of the city, but it was what was listed on their maps, and so it would have to make do.

"Grab our contacts, then rush towards the AA guns, 3 fireteams. Alpha'll be lead by me, Vin and you three. Sael, take Matthew, Riley and the Wachowski twins. You lot are Charlie. Encircle the area, then blind the guards with flares- Charlie'll run bait, Bravo'll cut off reinforcements. Alpha will knock out the AA guns, then we torch the place." he concluded, rising to his feet and shouldering his DC rifle, peering over to their objective. If there was movement, he couldn't make it from this distance. "Clock's ticking, and the enemy would've definitely heard the firefight. Let's make like tree!"

And so they strode forward into the encroaching darkness, nothing but steel in their eyes and murder in their thoughts.

 

[Phoenix]

The ambush had been quick and professional and that was why Vin had wanted to be transferred to the 501st. They were the best in the galaxy and he wanted to be with the best.

They finished off the remaining troopers and started making their way to the next objective. Alpha team began moving toward city center and some part of him thought that things were going to get ugly real quick.

He wondered how long it would take for the mercenaries to send someone new to the site of the ambush. Hopefully they would be confused enough for the time being that it wouldn't be an issue, but he knew that probably wasn't the case.

Continuing their creeping through the alleys, backstreets, and even buildings, they finally came to an area just outside the AA guns. They paused and Vin moved over closer to Corric. From their current position, Vin could see a bit through his rifle, but there was potential for so much more.

He whispered to Corric, who he was now next to, [color= #4d4dff]Permission to go to the top of the building. Get a better vantage point for callouts and overwatch.[/color]

He wasn't sure if he'd get permission, but at least it would give them some forewarning if someone was coming while they waited for their contacts. Just outside their building and several hundered yards away, Vin could see the AA guns reaching up to the sky. The guns were quite large and could easily cause problems for any large invading force.

A slight rustling outside the door sent him reaching for his pistol as he uttered the challenge word: Flash. Although this was where they were to meet their contact, you could never be to careful.

 

[Tristar]

Thunder came the reply, and 16 rifles loosened, their barrels aimed several degrees off the 90 degree mark. From the shadows slipped 2 men clothed in the iconic fashion of the garrison troopers, mere conscripts off the streets. Little training but easy to mass, it was no surprise that their defensive force had routed and fallen back to their camp. What Corric couldn't piecemeal was how these two scrounged up the courage to stay behind and fix up a radio to contact the Imperium- these particular troopers must've had what their brethren didn't possess.

Hope.

The ruins of the buildings gave them shelter from the prying eyes, and with Vin now authorized to set up a rudimentary overwatch Corric was a little bit more confident in the success of the mission. One of them barely looked 18, clutching a very worn blaster, eyes flitting back and forth between the dark figures of the Imperium's finest; the Corporal smirked at the idea of that. His compatriot seemed less wary and more grateful, though he hadn't a weapon and seemed to rely on his battle buddy for protection, who frantically whispered at them. "What kriffing happened?"

"Curiosity." replied Corric simply, carefully moving the trooper's barrel downwards. "No traces. Ghost style." quipped on of Corric's men- probably Corporal Sael himself. Man had a pride and burning passion with him that didn't suit the SF outfit for no particular reason. The men simply nodded before stopping themselves, as though they had offended the troopers. They just weren't used to building repo with the locals- it wasn't their style. The Imperium dictated warfare by domination not assimilation- this mindset carried over to the simplest troops, which was why they were still suspicious of each other.

"AA guns. I assume security's tightened even before the firefight. If you see the place light up like a Kwanza tree, get the rest of the garrison ready to fly. Green flare'll mark the open air corridor-" "-yellow flare marks unexpected difficulties and red flare means termination. We'll let loose the corresponding colors. We understand. How you gonna do this?"

Corric bit his lips, not wanting to reveal his plan. Sael however, spoke up on his behalf: "Curiosity killed the cat."

* * * *
​

After agreeing on the final details, the 3 fire-teams finally made their move into the engulfing darkness, letting their black hues merge together and be one with the night. Their movement patterns made to surround the AA towers, already brimming and jostling with half-asleep men carrying light rifles and varying pieces of equipment. One building overlooked the tower from the East and had a sentry overlooking the small roundabout, though Alpha lead by Corric was striking from deep South through the burned down park, crawling through the charred grass; Bravo by Sael had positioned themselves to the North-West, ensuring any reinforcements from the city square won't interrupt the proceedings- they choked the alley ways with prepared IEDs, one man somewhere shouldering an AT weapon in case they summoned vehicular support. Charlie, being rabbit would hit hard from the North and draw fire- yet they had possession of the squad's AR, and so should be able to hold off the brunt of the retaliation. It was Alpha who had very little in terms of firepower, though Vin being their force multiplier could only be so effective every hit round or so.

"Alpha in position," whispered Corric into their encrypted radio channel- the rest of the squad had been released of their radio ban, and was promptly notified.

"Bravo, holding."

"Charlie, here." Corric stilled his beating heart, staring from the broken walls that separated the interior of the park to the AA towers. 100 meters was their distance to cover to slap a det-charge onto the foundations, 100 meters where they could all get shot if Charlie didn't perform up to par. Bravo was more or less their reserve, but still had a role to play. The trees were thankfully intact, if devoid of any real stability or leaves. However the guard house for the park still stood, and the fountain rested upon the crest of a hill in the center of the park, roughly 150 meters back their way- Vin could effectively post up on any of the stations and provide covering fire while the rest rushed the foundations. "Vin- set up shop, you have 90 seconds before we roast the turkey. Move!"

"Alpha, calling Bravo and Charlie- Turkey is set, readying temperature. Hold one before we turn the gas up."

 

[Phoenix]

His position taken on top of the building really didn’t give outstanding field of view, but it did offer exceptional cover. The top of the building looked as if it had once been used as a rooftop garden and its privacy wall protected him from the eyes of angry mercenaries as well as it protected its former occupants from peeping toms. Add to that the fact that part of it had been caved in by what looked like an artillery strike, and there were plenty of crevices for him to hid in.

As he reached the top of the steps, he moved back into a belly crawl until he found a small gap in the wall through which he could observe the streets and open spaces near the building. Several minutes passed without any real activity to show. The closest thing that they had enemy contact was a small foot patrol that walked by about 100 meters away. Other than that, nothing. But then, that really was good news. The last thing they needed at this point was to arouse suspicion or draw attention.

When the call finally came to move out, it was a relatively slow belly crawl back to the stairwell and then a quick descent down to “friendly” territory, like there was any of that on this planet.



Then the time finally came. The three fireteams each had their roles to fill and Vin found himself really hoping that everyone would actually do their part. Any single piece of this plan falling apart and it could easily be each of their heads. That being said, there was nothing that he had seen from these guys so far that would indicate that they weren’t up to par for the task at hand. Things would work out. He hoped.

Corric instructed him to take up a firing position to cover the men making the dash and though his heart jumped just a little bit as the adrenaline began to pound through his veins, externally he gave a simple [color=#4d4dff ]“copy that”[/color] without a hint of trepidation before beginning his sprint.

He had already been looking over the park picking out the best firing positions and by the time the order finally came, he knew where he planned to post up. About 50 meters from their current position and 175 meters from where the rest of the fireteam would be running to was a small shed that looked as if it had once been used for landscaping. Its top offered the best range and field of view, though it lacked some of the cover he would normally have preferred, in this case he didn’t have much of a choice.

It took him about 15 seconds to make it to the shed and about another 60 to find an adequate way to climb to the roof where he unfolded his bipod and lay flat on its top. At 175 meters there would be no real chance of him missing if he had been at the range, but this wasn’t the range. This was the real deal, where lives were on the line. Not only his own, but his comrades who would be making that run. He pushed those thoughts from his mind and as he did, another entered.

With the pounding of his heart from the sprinting and climbing this whole thing suddenly did remind him a bit of some of the training drills they had run. Instructors would scream at them and tell them that in combat, they’d be running and filled with adrenaline, their hearts would be pounding and their lungs empty and they’d still have to shoot straight. Now it really made sense what they were talking about.

His eye peered through the scope of his rifle as it flicked between guards ahead, expecting at any second for them to notice the gunfire to their North. At least if Charlie did its job they would.