Saul
Inactive Member
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[MISSION 0.1] "Prom Date"
Forward Operating Base Icebox, Longwatch
70 miles from Fort Bulwark
0647 hours, local time
One month after the Crusaders had engaged NMX forces on patrol and - nothing had changed. Not really. The planet was still cold, the sun still hovered on the horizon, and outside of the going of only just met Marines to be replaced by others not much had changed. Higher command had set the whole incident assigned, chalking it up to their proximity to known Mishu strong-points on other worlds.
A few more patrols had been put out and for about two weeks the Crusaders forgot what their beds looked like with nights spent out on patrol, catching sleep atop their tanks, and enjoying "delicious" pre-packed meals. They were Marines though, and so William knew his Marines would tough it out well enough. Even if some of them might have complained about the lack of accommodations when "roughing" it.
And now they'd made home at FOB Icebox for the last two days.
On a small plateau overlooking the surrounding valley landscape, FOB Icebox was a chokepoint that made more environmentally-minded Marines nervous with the rising slopes of the valley on their flanks and the rises and dips in the surrounding land in places that could provide cover. The Commissar put in charge of the post had been vocal enough with his complaints that higher command had seen fit to give him heavier support for his defense than the small number of K4s and Marine infantry he'd had. While Crusader Flotilment had been on the way to the FOB in a late evening ride two nights ago, the Marines already there had dug out further defensive positions to give the tanks cover behind the walls on an otherwise mostly flat position, while still allowing them to fire.
For Corporal Miller and the crew of the "Vehicular Manslaughter", a hatred of not only Marine brass back at Fort Bulwark, but also possibly of Chief Parry would have been entirely understandable. His crew and three others hadn't even been given a full night's rest before they'd been ordered on a two-day long patrol of the surrounding area "outside the wire". Miller and "Vehicular Manslaughter", Private Simonova and "Misha", Corporal Heidleberg and "Ground Hog", and Hamal Seven-One and "Long Horn" had all been outside the wire on the two-day patrol slated to come back this morning.
Chief Parry, Private Tyrosian and "Hazardous Materials", Corporal Battleaxe and "Crush 'N Grind!", Corporal Titenlieb and "The BONE", and a newer arrival to the unit in "Rough Rider" had all been holding guard for the past two days "inside the wire" in eight-hour shifts by two. Free time had was passed at the small chow hall, getting to know the other Marines stationed there, working out at the (uncomfortably) open-air "gym" the Marines had set up after a friendly-fire incident a week ago had taken out the actual gym. At the moment Chief Parry's crew and the crew of "Rough Rider" stood watch, each across the small FOB from one another, and able to just glimpse the other crew's tank between some of the buildings. The other two crews and their commanders had been scheduled as free for the morning to do as they pleased, even if they wanted to sleep in.
From atop his tank, sitting partly out of the cupola despite how much it might silhouette his frame, Chief Parry scanned the valley floor with binoculars in hand searching for the dust clouds or outline of four of his tanks under the eternal winter sun.
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