Landing Area Fyodor, Space Port 18 Planet Santa-Torga Prime 108 Hours Into Operation Argent Saber The Command or 'God' Track sat in an open courtyard surrounded by all manner of support vehicles, supplies, parts, and other logitical mess that continued to be managed by a myriad of personnel and support robots. Such is the life in the rear of a now substantial ground army thats on the move. Standing in the vehicle's dropped rear door was on the only figure not frantically waving about or extremely concentrated on the goings on of the digital display table in the interior of the command track. Average in height and of weathed greying looks, he wore the desert battle dress variant of the light armored exosuit with various digital tans, greys, and browns. Unlike those surrounding him however he wore the three pyramids of a Marine Command General, his old slate grey eyes stared out across the open expanse to the west beyond the broken far wall of the courtyard. The alien star of this world was just beginning to peek over the mountains far off in the distance, some small piece of intel at the back of his mind reminding him this world rotated against its orbit. He watched the sunrise for a few moments longer before returning to the milder chaos of the command track's interior. Most of the predawn darkness had been spent organizing the chase forces into something more coherent along the defensive lines of their next targeted settlement, designated Objective Grigori. As he stepped closer to the table his DNI or direct neural interface, wirelessly linked to it, bringing up a much larger augmented reality layout of the situation playing out across several thousand kilometers of ground. So far the effort which had been given the name 'Operation Argent Saber' had been wholely on his end of the effort, their landings coming down hard enough and fast enough that most of the estimated ten thousand defenders had simply routed across the northern desert toward the next town. The first objective, a collection of sandstone and mud brick dwellings wrapped around a large flat expanse that passed for a light spaceport had been a practical walk in. Of course intel hadn't reported many in the way of the alien creatures and thus mostly the occupiers here had been the pirates and mercenaries, trash in the face of a professional military force. The next one however... his mind brought up a satellite image of a armored floating creature among a throng of humanoid shapes. Pushing it away with his mind he returned to the task at hand, his mental picture reaching out for force compositions as he pulled a coffee can from a dispensor on the wall. Almost shuddering as the caffine rushed into nerves that hadn't rested in seventy two hours, of course he chided himself somewhat.... some of the men on vehicles or marching across the sand hadn't slept in twice that. Nearly three divsions or thirty thousand men and their associated mix of armor and support vehicles sat inside the rapidly growing peremeter of the small space port. Another five, all Colonial Pact Marine mechanized units which had been initially landed in the first assault where out in the north. Originally chasing the retreating forces and forcing contact where they could with the smaller formations, some had been slowed by last stands on various ridges and hilltops by sacrifical holding units. It had allowed an estimated half of the defenders from the space port to reach the lines of Objective Grigori, something the General hadn't wanted but alas war was war. Now he had them formed up, rallying and organizing into stepping off points for a full scale assault on the southern peremter of Grigori... the question was when would be the time to begin. 8556th Pact Marine Mechanized Division - Mustering Area 20 Km South of Objective Grigori Planet Santa-Torga Prime 108 Hours Into Operation Argent Saber Major Petrovik sat on a supply crate in a sea of the damn things, near him the crew of a light dropship, all two of them, continued to crawl over their craft checking for signs of damage or issue. He'd ordered them to do it twice, they where his ride into town after all. He was still in his Kortik, although he had already spent the time and effort to fix the dings, dents, and lack of armaments on it after his impromptu dive from altitude. He'd sent the Corporal off to do the same while he sat, eating for the first time in two days and waited for the replacements he'd put in for. His eyes looked out across the mass of armor, supplies, and men running around preparing, checking, and arming their tools of war. After being picked up it hadn't taken them long to find their way back into the fighting, a general near the head of one of the armored formations having flown them and a bunch of other air cav units in behind a hilltop not even ten kilometers away. They'd taken it... with losses... as the strange dusky skinned female humanoids fought to nearly a man. Shaking his head of those thoughts, he finished the last of the ration and stowed the trash in an empty open top crate someone and setup for just a purpose before pulling a cigar from the chest pocket. A moment later it was lit and he let the calming nicotine flow into his system as he watched and waited to see what would hopefully be a replacement squad.... as he tried to bury the memories of the first one... OOC: To those just joining the plot I just need you to effectively walk up, annouce yourself, salute, and give a general paragraph of who and what you are and what sort of equipment you have onboard. The links to the pages to pull from are below just bare in mind some of these are still in image only. As far as where you might come from your probably a colonial pact marine either part of the 8556th or a replacement drawn up, if you have any questions you can tag me on site chat, PM me, or give me a poke in discord and I'll answer them the best I can!