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RP: NSS Altomir [Mission 1.1] Gathering the Bearings

MoonMan

Inactive Member
Of the many notable tenacious habits that Nepleslian culture exhibited in their time, none were as uniquely subtle as their methods for architecture. Nepleslia Core, the heart of their empire, was a planet of sprawling cities that covered nearly the entire surface. Covered in enormous mega-cities that stretched on and over all terrain, these urban limits never truly ending; merely thinning out before eventually reaching the next towering, multi-tiered example of Nepleslia's infatuation with themselves. Nepleslia Core had less than .01% of its natural vegetation left, as it had been for many, many years, the expanses of forests and plains harvested and cleared to pave the way for housing, businesses and centers of vice aplenty. Many of the central Nepleslian worlds were like this, either at this stage already or rapidly approaching it. It was simply Nepleslia's way; natural flora and fauna either adapted to Nepleslians and their tendencies quickly or were handily made scarce, all in the name of progress and profit.

One needs to understand such tendencies for Nepleslian cities to grow to truly understand why Rok'Veru, a lush, high-temperature and humid terrestrial world, had not reached the level of colonization that Nepleslia Core and its sister worlds enjoyed. Despite being the first recorded settlement for the very first Nepleslians who set leather boot onto firm soil before the records ended, Rok'Veru only enjoyed a handful of large, industrialized cities along the surface, mostly based along the ocean shores. The reason for this exception to Nepleslia's natural need for expansion rested amongst the sprawling, thick jungles and rain forests that covered nearly the entire planet.

Where Nepleslia Core's flora and fauna was more than content to simply lay down and disappear under Nepleslia's heavy-footed march, unable to react to their aggressors, Rok'Veru stood in their path and let its thorns point skyward. Natural Rok'Veru vegetation was thick, resilient, aggressive, and went where it wanted; remarkably fast-growing roots of proguta bulbs glided through soil, concrete and steel foundations with the ease of a knife through water, probing through the smallest structural weakness and quickly forcing them apart. Young saplings of Rok'Veru yusap trees grew to heights and thicknesses that rivaled Nepleslian skyscrapers themselves for space amongst the clouds, thick-leafed branches blanketing kilometers of ground in shade, growth limited only by the thinning mixtures of airborne elements in the skies above. The particularly bothersome vivendocus serratus-fungus, dotted the landscape, staving off most voracious herbivores with an exterior covered in sharp, thin razor-like half-circles outside of the hardened leathery flesh... only to burst and expel billions upon billions of hazardous spores should a more persistent predator make it past its defenses.

Colonists couldn't cut the trees to expand their cities; they grew back just as quickly, either through the dirt or the structural skeletons laid out by colonial construction crews. Nepleslia couldn't shoot trees, as fun as the prospect sounded, and contained-area detonations were risky and met with the same surge of regrowth encountered when clear cutting; Rok'Veru's vibrant flora seemed to almost sense these areas cleared by logging crews, growing into them as though they were actively competing for the newly-opened space. Crews couldn't burn the forests down; a combination of universally fire-resilient barks and skins, as well as the natural humidity and moisture of Rok'Veru made using fire slow and nearly worthless. One type of rather dangerous carnivorous plant was known to actually thrive in areas devastated by forest fire, ashes and fibrous carbons being quickly dissolved into the soil and absorbed by the roots.

Nepleslia didn't quit, nor did they particularly enjoy squandering their opportunities. The major Nepleslian cities of Rok'Veru were built along the several oceans, abusing the thinning vegetation near shorelines and carefully exploiting every inch of space to their structural advantage. With some clever changes in architecture, dedication to hourly overgrowth control on the fringes of the settlement, and a little luck, Bal'Sharok grew to become Rok'Veru's capital city. Life amongst such aggressive plant life caused Nepleslia to adapt instead, and they did it well; well enough to grow bold enough to form other major cities along the expansive shorelines.

---

Native Rok'Veru citizens, having already survived the gauntlet of Mother Nature, couldn't truly be prepared for the NMX invasion as it descended upon them. The Nepleslians had weapons and soldiers stationed, they had ships, orbital defense platforms. They were simply overwhelmed by numbers, NMX carriers and gunships lining the sky while ground forces landed amongst the cities and surrounding jungles in seemingly endless waves. Only the lucky ones were able to evacuate away from the major metropolises, fleeing to unmarked settlements and outposts dotting the rainforest; the rest of the citizens were either captured and detained, or hid themselves amongst the ruins of Bal'Sharok, waiting for death or salvation.

Salvation came to the patient. Not soon after the initial invasion force breached the defense line between NMX territory and Rok'Veru, the 1st Defense Fleet and a small support wing of 1st Assault Fleet vessels were quick to respond. The fleets exchanged blows between the invading Mishhu, who turned out to be ill-prepared to engage in orbit above the planet. Both ends received casualties, but the NMX invasion force was quickly forced into a retreat via hyperspace fold, leaving their planetary forces behind to continue whatever it was they had come to Rok'Veru to do.

The 1st Defense Fleet held position in close orbit, opening the way for their own reclamation forces from additional ships as well as their own, sending shuttles and transports to the surface to end the invasion that was, supposedly, over before it started. However, the NMX forces were able to unload a disproportionate amount of infantry and ordinance onto Rok'Veru in the small window of time they had stolen; initial pushes into the fortified city structures stalled Nepleslian armored infantry, preventing further entry into the heart of the city.

It wasn't until several hours after the NMX ships pulled back did the 1st Defense Fleet realize what the NMX ground forces were fighting so ferociously for. Several of the 1st DF's carriers and battleships, in close orbit over each Rok'Veru city to act as a waypoint and tactical resupply for their ground forces, were caught off-guard and unprepared by a simultaneous, planned attack from within the hearts of each city amongst the smouldering towers of steel. In the lull between combat, several powerful communication scrambling elements became active, debilitating both ground communication and starship sensors. At the same time, anti-ship ftl-capable torpedoes and thin beams of aetheric energy burst from the cities confines onto single ships at a time, overwhelming ship defenses with their concentrated precision before moving on to another target. Several 1st DF capital ships, including the fleets flagship, the NSS Grand Rose, were torn apart in low orbit before the remaining vessels were able to retreat farther away.

Soldiers on the ground only had to look skyward to see the results of the sudden attack. Fiery debris rained from the sky, breaking through the darkening clouds in bright orange streaks. They were countless, their slow descent from the atmosphere lighting up the night sky, heralding the coming conflict that stood before them.

fetch.php



-----


Liganda District of city Bal'Sharok, Planet Rok'Veru


Code:
"This is a short range broadcast, calling all Nepleslian military forces in the general area. Recent developments in the conflict have made the use of long-range communication impossible. NMX forces holding positions ES-56 to ES-109 have begun pushing outward on the eastern encampment outside of Bal'Sharok spacesport on Eastern Zebulba and 10th Street. Infantry in that area have been advised to fall back to Epsilon and wait for orders."

"All receiving this broadcast, however, are ordered to move to regroup at the underground subway station in Liganda District of Bal'Sharok, on 5th Street near the central transport hub. The area still contains scattered enemy presence; be cautious in your approach and avoid drawing attention to the subway station regroup point. Repeat. This is a short range-"

The encrypted short-range message called out to all Nepleslian soldiers capable of receiving it, the range centering around the point of interest itself from within the city. The capital city of Bal'Sharok had seen better days; the growing night made the fires all the more prominent, their glow only serving to illuminate the structural damage that had caused the fire in the first place. The city wasn't leveled, to be sure; buildings still stood tall and streets, aside from the clutter, remained solid. The occasional, distant sounds of combat could be heard echoing around the streets mixed with the natural sounds of Rok'Verus vibrant wildlife coming from the all-encompassing rainforests around the city.

The entrance to the Liganda District subway station mentioned in the broadcast was located in a major street intersection, several lanes of road forming a cross with the large set of downward stairs sitting against the corner beneath an awning of empty iron framework. The glass had been shattered, most likely from a previous explosion or stray bullet, the shards laying along the stairs as they descended into the station itself, obscured from the hazy twilight of night. From the shroud covering the sky, figures would begin to make careful approach upon the subway station's entrance.

1st Response said:
Soldiers from the initial reclamation force have been on Rok'Veru for a little over a day, in constant combat. Their supplies and ammunition are low, and moral is wavering after seeing the better part of the 1st DF blown out of the sky. These 1st response soldiers are weary and waning, but they still have their guns and gear in working condition and they know what to expect as they push into the city.
Survivors said:
Some escape pods from the few unlucky ships targeted by the NMX were able to avoid the disastrous attack. A little shaken from the close call, these survivor soldiers are more or less rested and ready to go, with fresh powered armorsuits. However, armory access was limited in the ensuing chaos, providing them with only the armor-grade sidearms as a means of defense. Pods are limited to a single armored soldier; these survivors will have to regroup with more Nepleslian military if they hope to keep surviving.
 
Mu'Klamal, guide my weapon, and my mind. Let it be that I have the skill to win the day, and the heart to continue on.

Private Third Class Saveli Borzakov rolled out of his escape pod, coming down to his hands and knees for a moment, before turning his mono-eye up towards the street. The sounds of gun-fire and chaos were running rampant across this world, Rok'Veru. When they said they'd be putting him on a high-risk assignment, he never imagined it would be like this. His own ship had been shot from space, and he himself had barely made it through reentry. The NMX had even been kind enough to graze his pod with a torpedo, spinning his drop pod off trajectory.

Muna, guide my feet, and my spirit. Let it be that I have the cunning to outwit the elements, and the strength to push forward.

His HUD turned up readouts of the street and linked them to his minimap, triangulating his position on the planet. He then gathered his links on weapons, what he had and how much ammo. The Marine moved down the street, hunting for a bit of decent cover, while drawing his LSP.

Code:
"All receiving this broadcast, however, are ordered to move to regroup at the underground subway station in Liganda District of Bal'Sharok, on 5th Street near the central transport hub. The area still contains scattered enemy presence; be cautious in your approach and avoid drawing attention to the subway station regroup point."

The tacticians were already coordinating troops. Even with such large forces, the NSMC was capable of mustering manpower where they needed it. That brought a little comfort to the Cohronl, who had been a bit disheartened by the chaos that had rattled them from the sky.

Fanir, guide my body, and my soul. Let it be that I make no foolish mistake, but never to hesitate for long.

He had been chanting various blessings of the Saints in the back of his mind ever since his pod had launched. The Dreamers of his faith were far flung from this hazardous planet. Even if the Saints did wish to consult him in his sleep, they could not reach him across light-years.

Or at least, that's what he thought, perhaps his problems just weren't troubling or big enough to warrant a visit.

That didn't matter, though. The Iromakuanhe made his advance, plodding down a connection to 5th Street, and then turning to follow it to the entry to the subway station. It often surprised Saveli in just how similar metropolitan areas were between Iroutl and Nepleslian Space. Though, he didn't complain, it just made it easier to find his way, rather than cursing streams in Sal'saari.

He raised his weapon as he approached the station, though, checking for other friendly signatures in the area. The small sight on his gun scanned left and right. Saveli wasn't going into the station by himself, he knew only to trust what he saw, and he'd wait on fellow Marines before reporting the station, in whatever condition it may be.
 
A day, a single day. She'd landed with the initial companies as they touched down on the outskirts of one of the cities: Bal'sharok they called it. Smoke curled around her nose as the cherry red end of a cigarette creeped up slowly. At the beginning she'd seen Marines, scores of them boasting, taunting, burning with the fires of determination to win back their world. Even as she stood there, suit open and looking toward the sky that looked as if high-altitude fireworks displays were going off Yuriko wished she could've yelled at the crews of those ships.

Nepleslians had always been more experienced ground-pounders than ship to ship combat specialists. When those first massive explosions bloomed as munitions, reactors and all of that fuel went off on those ships it had spelled doom for the men and women serving aboard.

Some in her unit had looked up even as they were being steadily overrun to see their mighty defense fleet being smashed. Her CO, Sergeant Vedernikov a grizzled old bastard had finally went down all thanks to one of the NMX's roving buggies impaling his suit. The pile of corpses, pod debris, buggy; even Vedernikov were vaporized as he setoff the fusion reactor of his suit. A last, defiant gesture Yuriko knew all too well. He had atleast gone out fighting even as her Hostile was blown clear of the explosion.

Taken for dead, she'd helped ambush the remaining pod and NMX Neko troops, slaughtering her battle weary kindred as she looked for survivors. One Private, Katia MacKenna died due to bleedout even as she tried to stem it. The Corporal that had been Vedernikov's XO had been vaporized by the Aggressor's reactor overload. Even now as the four remaining privates of the squad marched wearily toward the city, Yuriko just stood there looking up as debris cut a trail of fire across the heavens.

"What a damned fine mess..." murmured the women even as she looked toward the faint flashes within the city.

"Distress signals from any survivors?"

The Hostile's SAVtech answered her in the same curt tone it always had used since being assigned to her.

"None. Long-range communications remain jammed however... one moment."

The jingle of dogtags as Yuriko turned her head toward the suit's interior gave her pause as the SAVtech patched in a message:

Code:
"This is a short range broadcast, calling all Nepleslian military forces in the general area. Recent developments in the conflict have made the use of long-range communication impossible. NMX forces holding positions ES-56 to ES-109 have begun pushing outward on the eastern encampment outside of Bal'Sharok spacesport on Eastern Zebulba and 10th Street. Infantry in that area have been advised to fall back to Epsilon and wait for orders."

"All receiving this broadcast, however, are ordered to move to regroup at the underground subway station in Liganda District of Bal'Sharok, on 5th Street near the central transport hub. The area still contains scattered enemy presence; be cautious in your approach and avoid drawing attention to the subway station regroup point. Repeat. This is a short range-"

One of her blood-stained hands took the faintly glowing butt from her lips, rubbing it against the side of the armor to extinguish it.

"I've plotted a course." the SAVtech offered in the silence that hung over both suit and woman after the message played. The Hostile closed in on itself as the Geshrin readied to move out again. "Short-range passive sensors are operational."

"Let's go."
 
Closer proximity to the subway station's entrance revealed signs of recent combat strewn across the street. Several vehicles had been destroyed, their frames torn apart by shot and explosion alike as they burned steadily in the coming night. There were handful of bodies along the ground as well; civilians unfortunate enough to get caught in the cross-fire, as well as a handful of Hostile-armored Nepleslian soldiers from a separate company. No signs of enemy corpses, however, and what little a defeated Hostile armor would have provided had apparently already been stripped and salvaged, either by fellow marines or NMX forces.

Other than the ambiance surrounding Saveli, all else was quiet. The only sound in close proximity would be his own, the subtle sounds of his powered armorsuit shifting at his command, or the soft clicks of the LSP gripped in his hands. His armors scanners provided little else.
 
The monoeye scanned the intersection for movement, like a hungry cat would eye a mouse hole.  For the past thirty minutes, the Hostile had been kneeling in the second level of a mostly intact club with its hand on the foot-long Vibrosaw.  The suit's head held a mask of patience and professionalism to outside eyes, but the inside was another story.  Devlin Marsh, Private Third Class, bit his tongue as he watched the tenth plastic bag sail across streets, his brow twitching in agitation at the subway entrance

Where is everyone?  No marines, no NMX, all my things are - were on the Grand Rose, the suit AI is being rude, and my knees itch.  Devlin mentally growled, bored, I want a paddle ball.

He had been stationed on the NSS Grand Rose when the attacks began on the 1st AF fleet and turned on the flagship with prejudice.  He made it to a pod in time and crash landed through a rooftop, out the building's side, and finally stopping in a clump of dumpsters.  When the explosive bolts went off, the redhead followed, diving into a roll and waving his LSP at all angles to prepare himself for the waves of squids surrounding him with flailing tentacles and oozing saliva.

There were no enemies surrounding Devlin.

Oh, he thought in disappointment. The private lowered his sidearm only to raise it again when the broadcast came in. The AI pulled up a minimap for the pilot and plotted an optimal route to Liganda Station. Devlin ignored the suggestion and stayed off the cluttered roads as much as possible to move through the building's upper levels. The suit AI was not amused.

Recalculating route.

"Be quiet!" Devlin chided as he hovered over a breach in a skywalk.

Recalculating route.

"Please?" He eventually made it to the intersection where the subway station was located and took shelter in a premium-class club when he noticed there was no activity in the area. He took cover amidst some synthetic ferns that lined the blown-out window and activated his color camouflage.

Half an hour later, when the monotony set in, Devlin was keeping a constipated face when he heard a noise below. He tightened the grip on the LSP as the HUD trained its view on Saveli. The Nepleslian broke into a grin as he watched a fellow armored marine move into cover on the road below. Devlin focused the directional laser communicator on Saveli's suit. "Hey marine!" he called over the encrypted channel between the two, "Nine oh-clock and up.". Momentarily revealed himself and waved at him from the window.
 
"Nine oh-clock and up."
Nine?

Saveli looked off directly to the right, hunting for where the communication had come from. He starred for a few moments, seeing nothing, and thus, raising his weapon with caution. The SMG aimed down carefully placed sights, before he realized he was reading direction off the wrong clock. Iroutl worked off single-layer 30-hour clocks, Nepleslia worked off of dual-layer 12-hour clocks.

Being on the right clock now, Saveli spun around, his heavy, powered boots churning against the road below him. He spotted Devlin in the window of the building above him.

Finally, another Marine. thought the young Borzakov, waving his hand from his position of cover. As he did so, his Savtech, helpful as she was, linked up Devlin's suit. The Friend-Foe software cleared him as a Friend, and began linking up suit information, plus mutually linking their locations. Now the two of them were a loose fire-team.

"Hey, what outfit you from? I came off the NSS Bros Before Hoes, but I haven't seen anyone else." said the Iroma in accented trade, making him sound mildly Yamataian, but not quite. The accent would be hard to place. "I saw other pods, but nowhere where I landed."
 
The escape pod was lying open, facing the marine in a Hostile power armor, the smoke from the explosive bolts that unlocked it still lingered around the large warehouse and surface of the pod constantly hissed as water dripped from a broken pipe on the ceiling onto the metal, superheated by the reentry. The marine in question, P3C Thomas Mort, stared at his armored hands through his suit’s monoeye, trying to keep his hands and body from the shakes that lingered even after the pod had landed.

As much as he tried to remember the few and painful seconds after he had boarded the escape pod, he couldn’t remember anything other than the violent shaking and all the noise as the pod descended to the lower atmosphere and the only emotion present at the time, panic. Knowing that he couldn’t do anything to increase his odds when he decided to board the pod felt worse than knowing that he was probably one of the few who had gotten out of the ship alive, and the sheer luck of that was due to him being in the right place at the right time.

“You’re better than this. Now stop shaking and get your act together.” He said to himself.

His hands shook violently for a few more seconds, but his face set and the shaking stopped although his heart still felt like it was going to come out of his mouth and his muscles were stiff with adrenaline. Thomas grabbed the only weapons he had managed to take from the ship he had been stationed in, an LSP with a few spare magazines and the foot long Vibrosaw knife.

The same panic he felt a few minutes before began to creep at the corners of his mind again as he started to switch through the frequencies and try to find anyone who was still alive, getting nothing but static at first. The thought that he might have been the only marine to make it out alive crossed his mind for a second. No, there were others from the 1st Response who were surely still in the vicinity, the marine reminded himself.

Thomas looked around for a second, listening to the distant sounds of the battle when his SAVtech cut in,

“Incoming transmission.” The voice said, and Thomas found himself standing and listening intently to the transmission. He listened it again and then a third time just to be sure. “Stop receiving, find me the shortest route to the rendezvous.” He said to his suit AI and then looked at the map display from inside his helmet. “That route is too open, find me another.” He said, and then broke into a jog towards the exit of the warehouse. He already knew the location of the subway station, and that was good enough for him. Thomas stopped one last time at the exit of the warehouse, staring at the devastation done to the city around him. The place might have looked empty and devoid of life, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be enemies nearby, and his escape pod must have made quite a show when it crashed there. He had to get out of there fast, and then figure out how he would reach the station

He scanned the frequencies again for any kind of friendly chatter. No luck. Thomas trailed his LSP left and right, and then broke out of the warehouse, staying out of the main roads and moving towards the Liganda subway station.
 
Bernhard Greer had been cut off from his squad. Were they dead or alive? He didn't know. Only that he needed to link up. Part of his mind was panicking, seeing the crap that had happened to the 1st Fleet's ships. Capital ships in low orbit? Admiral Valken never brought his cruisers near a planet and only sent small ships near a hostile planet. And where was the air support? Gunships and attack jets? Tanks and combat 'bots? This operation was missing so many of the elements that Bernhard had become used to in 4th Fleet.

And it was so odd not to have Drei around. The fleet's AI helped coordinate and plan things that a human couldn't. Going back to relying on the Savtech AI was like going back to using spears to hunt. It had certainly accommodated to all of his personal habits in the months that he had used the suit but he had never actively engaged with the AI, always relying on Drei to relay that information.

But this wasn't his first rodeo nor was he some wet-behind-the-ears greenie. He had faced overwhelming NMX forces on Tange and System 87I. Wounded both times, cited once for bravery. In one year, he had been in two major fleet actions and he knew he had acquitted himself well, despite what some might say. "I'm not gonna die here!" he swore aloud to himself. He had promised Chief Santiago that he would be coming back to 4th Fleet and by God, he would keep his word.

His Hostile was dinged and pitted from hits and his shields were at 50% and slowly recharging. He had about fourteen hundred rounds left in his HPAR, including the loaded magazine, and only the fourteen shells in his AS4GS. His mini-missile count was down to 6 per pod for a total of 12. Bernhard was glad, right now, for the Push/Pull guard and VCCS knife. But despite the damage, he took comfort in the fact that he had brought his personal Hostile from 4th Fleet, still painted with the bear motif on his left shoulder guard.

Bernhard rounded a street corner, HPAR raised, and saw a Hostile coming out of a warehouse armed with an LSP. "4th Fleet, Nepleslian Marines! Don't move or I will fire!" Bernhard yelled, aiming his HPAR at the armor. He had said 4th Fleet out of habit, still unused to his new billet in 1st Fleet. His pulse laser also targeted the Hostile, though he wasn't sure it would do anything more than tickle the machine's shields.
 
"Stow it, Winters and stop acting like a damned wuss! I didn't hear this whiny shit out of you when we first put boots to dirt." snapped Yuriko as the remainders of the squad edged into the city. They'd skirted around a small NMX force on its way to investigate possible crash sites in their area only to see picked over remains of Hostile Suits on one of the highways.

"B-Bu-"

"Shut the hell up! Or the next time I'm shoving this suit's boot up your crack and out between your teeth." One of the squad had inspected some of the suit and Marine remains, reporting back that anything worth salvaging had already been picked over. Even then it looked as if the civilian bodies that also showed up from time to time had been picked clean.

"Talbert, eyes on the sky, I don't want any squids getting the jump on us. Stick to Laser-Comms, radio'll just give away our positions. And stick to the enhanced visuals. None of that fancy pants particle nonsense"

"Yes'em." came the short acknowledgment as a pair of the suit's Monoeyes swiveled upward at an angle as they begun cycling through Infra-Red, Ultraviolet and even Nightvision.

"How much further?" asked Yuriko as soon as they entered the city.

The HUD changed to a see through map of the city, from their current position a golden line snaked its way across the simulated streets toward 5th Street a pulsating green circle representing the squad moved along the golden line toward the target.

"Quarter Mile."

There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a long, low release of air as she surveyed the damage. Cars flipped over, on fire, smoking wrecks, a few scattered corpses. Glass lined the streets reflecting flickering light that waned and then dimmed like burnt out stars. The crackling of fire was all around along with a few faint 'Thwok, Thwok, Thwoks!' of automatic rifle fire in the distance.

"Hopin we can link back up with the rest of the Company when we get to the subway station. Or atleast find out where the hell're they at. Along with the rest'a the Regiment."

"Me too Gilberts, Me too. In the meantime we keep marching towards Fifth Street'n that station."
 
"4th Fleet, Nepleslian Marines! Don't move or I will fire!"


Thomas froze, looking around to find where the challenge had come from, finally spotting the other power armor around the corner. He was still shaken from the drop, and the thought of getting killed by friendly fire wasn’t really appealing to him. For some reason it made him frustrated. Thomas turned his helmet towards Bernhard and used the laser and replied, “Woah, do I look like a squid to you!? Hold your fire, I’m coming your way!” Thomas yelled back, sounding more shaken than he thought he would, and started jogging towards the other marine.

As he approached the other Hostile, he noticed how the other armor was dented and battered in comparison to his. Thomas then added two plus two and came to the conclusion that the other marine must have been with the First Response. “You look like you’ve been through hell and back. I’m Thomas Mort, private third class. I barely escaped my ship, all hands lost but me, so far.” He said, stopping a few meters away from the marine and glancing around the corner in the hopes that there would be others there too, much to his disappointment.

“Are you the only one?” Thomas asked.
 
Devlin cocked his head to the side as the marine turned the opposite direction and raised his weapon. The redhead began rubbing his knee against the armor’s interior to kill the itch when he realized his mistake. “Uh, the other nine oh-clock.” he said, clearing his throat and hoping that Saveli would not catch Devlin’s slip. “Sorry.” The Hostile below turned on his feet and looked up at the private. A few seconds later,his silhouette turned green on the HUD, and they were both placed in a fire-team together.

"Hey, what outfit you from? I came off the NSS Bros Before Hoes, but I haven't seen anyone else." said the Iroma in accented trade, making him sound mildly Yamataian, but not quite. The accent would be hard to place. "I saw other pods, but nowhere where I landed."

Devlin leaned his head out of the window and scanned up and down the beaten street for signs of a malicious nature. Once he was satisfied, he stepped off the edge and descended, with arms by his side, toward the marine. The suit’s thrusters kicked in for a few moments at close proximity to the ground, and disengaged, allowing Devlin to land in a squat before the marine. He quickly straightened his posture and looked at his comrade Hostile. He was speaking trade, but even through the helmet’s filter, the native Nepleslian could tell that the accent was off. It didn’t matter to him though; used to serving people of all heritages at the diner, Devlin grew comfortable in the cultural melting pot. Plus, his tone seemed more interesting than most others he heard in Funky City.

He took a heroic stance and announced his first placement in the Star Military with pride. “Private Third Class Devlin Marsh of the oh-four-three-two, assigned to the NSS Grand Rose.” He stopped at the mention of the flagship and his mind went back to Nepleslia Core when Devlin first saw the sleek hull of the Grand Rose docked at Davis Station. He had met most of his platoon there, who had raised a collective brow at Devlin's aggressive introduction. All those faces. The redhead let his shoulders slump slightly and sighed, “I saw a couple of empty escape pods on my way here, but no, my journey was uneventful.” Devlin looked toward the yellow-tinged sky and raised his fist with renewed vigor. “The NMX have yet to witness my love and patriotism for Nepleslia!”

“How are you on gear, um…oh! What was your name?” he asked, sifting through his memory for a clue.
 
Alexandra wiped the blood of her suits hands. She looked at dead body before her. Just few minutes ago it was heavily injured marine, now it was just an empty cased. There was not much else for her to do, then retrieve his cerebral chip and putting it into armoured case one her Hostile's belt. She sighed and stood up.

When she got a chance to reassigning back to 1st fleet, she took it without giving it too much thought. It was where she began her carrier. Of course NSS Acadia or what was left of her crew was now on Francia, but the fleet was still there and it was the closest thing that the orange skinned medic could call home.

Then Rok'Veru came. Alex was rejoiced about the fact that they will be retaking the planet. Evacuation of Rok'Veru was her first combat mission and she still believed that marines did damn well considering the odds. Coming back and kicking NMX out of it was something she could not say no to.

Since yesterday when she landed with her new squad she did this few times. Squids were putting up a tough fight and there were not many of her comrades to save. Just to save their minds, memories and personalities at least. With almost no medevac they also had to carry they wounded with them. NMX did not care about their wounded, they only cared about combating nepleslian forces.

Finally an hour ago, she got separated from the rest of her unit, when she tried to get wounded guy out of the firefight. That man now lay dead before her feet in small dirty alley. Alex sighed again. She was getting tired. Being medic was hard, seeing how many died and that fact that she could not help them was hard. Alexandra hoped that she will at least manage to bring the chips in her case back and save them.

Alex looked into the street, which seemed clear enough. Her eyes went up and she could see ships battling and most of them going down. Just many more deaths. "Squids are going to pay for this." She muttered in her helmet.

It was time to look for other friendly units so Alex checked her comm. She swore, when she found out that long range comms are jammed. But she caught a message on short range broadcast.

Code:
"This is a short range broadcast, calling all Nepleslian military forces in the general area. Recent developments in the conflict have made the use of long-range communication impossible. NMX forces holding positions ES-56 to ES-109 have begun pushing outward on the eastern encampment outside of Bal'Sharok spaceport on Eastern Zebulba and 10th Street. Infantry in that area have been advised to fall back to Epsilon and wait for orders."

"All receiving this broadcast, however, are ordered to move to regroup at the underground subway station in Liganda District of Bal'Sharok, on 5th Street near the central transport hub. The area still contains scattered enemy presence; be cautious in your approach and avoid drawing attention to the subway station regroup point. Repeat."

So Liganda station on 5th street? Alex finally smiled since now she at least got a destination. She checked her equipmen. Half a mag of HPAR. Her main gun was spitting bullets all day long and not many were left. It was her old rifle she was using since Acadia and she taking it everywhere with her. At least she did not have draw her LSP all day so there she got enough ammo. Alex frowned at the fact that she had 3 last DART mini-missiles. All her Arrows were fired earlier. There was still her knife, Push/pull system and her fits. That was all Nepleslian really needed in the end.

Alexandra took a deep breath, let her Savtech give her a route and got a move on. She moved slowly and as quietly as possible. She only used enhanced optics of her mono-eyes to not give away her position so easily.

After twenty minutes of walking she only saw dead. Few Hostiles all stripped of anything useful. None of them had a chip to save, since their helmet flew of in direction of friendly units. Alexandra moved through another alley. On the end should be street that should take her to the 5th street. At least according to her AI. She peeked out of a corner and saw a squad of marines heading her way. They probably heard the broadcast too.

Alexandra walked out in the street ready to jump back into the alley. She waved at them and called out. "Frienly, friendly!" She called to them, still wary of their reaction. "Hey mates!"
 
"I've seen zombies use armor on Tange. Never hurts to be too careful," Bernhard said, relaxing slightly. "P2C Greer. Squad disappeared, one minute we were in a tunnel, next minute, I came out alone. Haven't been able to reach 'em. You're not the only one off the ships - I saw a bunch of empty ones back there." He spoke without much emotion, unable to summon up the energy now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

Bernhard looked at the Marine, fresh armor and the pea-shooter. "Have you only got at that toy gun? Any missiles?" And if he was, which gun was Bernhard going to give away? He liked the flexibility that having both gave him but the duo would be far more effective if this greenie, Mort, had a decent gun.

"Here," he tossed the HPAR and his only spare clip to Thomas. "I trust you know how to use that more than this," Bernhard said, charging his AS4GS. First shot was solid, second spread and so on.
 
“Damn.” Was all that Thomas managed to say about the situation Greer had gone through. If he had thought that things were pretty grim at first, they only seemed worse as he heard the weary, unemotional tone from the other marine. On the bright side, the man sounded like he knew what he was doing.

“Yeah, that’s all I got, no missiles either. It was either that or toast,” Thomas answered, pointing to his LSP with his free hand to emphasize his point, “Everything as blowing up, you see? I didn’t have time to prepare.” He added. Thomas remembered for a second the moment when the ship started breaking up and how he barely had time to escape, but shivered the thought away when Greer gave him the HPAR and the spare magazine. It was time to put his mind back in the fight.

He put his sidearm away and checked the digital display on his newly acquired weapon, looking at the remaining ammo on the current magazine and if there was any malfunctions to it. Satisfied, he lowered the weapon. “Yeah, they also taught me how to tie my shoes in basics too.” Thomas said the other marine, even though the question was pretty much rhethorical, “We should link up with any other survivors at the Liganda station like the broadcast said.” He added.
 
Saveli turned his head a little bit as as Devlin came down into the street next to him. Little bits of rubble and bullet shells plinked against his armor. If there was anything impressive about the Nepleslian armors, it was their rugged maneuverability despite the thick plates. There wasn't anything elegant about it, like the VAHINs and VALINs he had seen back home, but they seemed quite fit for things like this.

Though, the Cohronl refused to join the man in his fervor for the cause. Saveli simply stared, still crouched against cover, and now thinking if hunkering down here was the best idea. In fact, Devlin would see that the Marine largely ignored the showmanship in favor of carefully scanning over the already heavily observed street.

"I've got everything that came attached with the armor." said the Iroma, curling his fingers over the side of the wall-strut. His heels began to bounce a little bit as he seemed to get ready for hopping the strut. "I'm called Saveli Borzakov, a Private of Third Class. I've just been waiting on someone to come along. Not wanting to head down alone." He drummed his fingers over the wall-strut.

The Private Third Class turned his head back to the other.

"C'mon. I don't like standing out here. Let's go." said Saveli, the thruster's on his calves kicking him over the strut in a short wall-jump before the Marine began running over to edge of the station's entrance. For a moment, he took a look inside, leaning around the corner, but then looked back over at Devlin, beckoning after.

Saveli held up his LSP, scanning around for any threats to cover his knew buddy's advance.
 
"You're on point then. You've got more shields than me. Damned squids hit my MED so be bloody careful. Don't suppose you got a observation drone?" Bernhard said. His drone had taken a 50mm gauss round to the face. It had stopped the same round from hitting him so Bernhard considered that a good use of the drone, despite its loss.

Bernhard looked at his sensors, reading a bunch of friendly IFF signals nearby. "A block over, looks like two more Marines. Or at least, their suits. Stationary right now. Want to check it out? Might be more ammo if they're dead."
 
All it had taken was that split-second difference in a peek before Alex walked out into the street. As she waved, letting the five-man strong group know she was a 'Friendly', she'd be greeted with five Hostile Suits in firing positions. Using a combination of wrecked cars and debris as cover while their HPAR-Rifles were all aimed center-mass on her suit.

One of them however raised their rifle toward the sky, getting to its feet from behind a turned over mini-van. It plodded forward enough to give a clear view but still maintain the advantage of cover.

"Identify yourself! Name, Rank, Regiment, Assignment!" it barked, a female's voice over a laser-comm directed toward her suit.

"I have already gotten a hand-shake and IFF tag on the suit. It is friendly." the SAVtech stated a little blandly at Yuriko's questions.

"Yeah well, better safe than sorry." the Marine muttered in her own helmet as the information the SAVtech had gotten showed up on the HUD.
 
Alex smiled under the helmet. They were careful and that was good. Her own Savtech was already getting response from theirs suits IFF. Their initial reaction was good one. Take cover and check what they met. It was better to be with competent soldier rather then some newbs. Luckily there should not be newbs in this strike force.

"P1C Alexandra Mayhew." She answered to the woman using Laser comms. "First response, medic." She said word after word what she was asked. "I got separated from the rest of the squad. I am almost out of ammo for my HPAR, but I still got some medical equipment with me. My Hypolathe still works. Did you hear the broadcast mates?"
 
Devlin took cover behind a blackened car frame to cover his squadmate’s advance on the station. He scanned for enemy positions along the visible horizon then moved upwards with the suit's enhanced visuals. The marine quickly realized how exposed the two were with no aerial cover. He decided to stow away the bravado for a more opportune time, lest his first deployment be the last.

Private Borzakov wasted no time in taking cover on the way to the entrance and made it without incident. Devlin received the all-clear and bounded over the hood with a loose tongue spilling over his bottom lip in excitement. He followed Saveli’s lead and made a straight beeline across the intersection, trusting him to have his back. He knew his comrade was right in wanting to get underground as soon as possible. There was no telling how close the NMX were to the hub, and as much as Devlin wanted a taste of combat, he did not want to jeopardize the mission any more than he already had.

His boots kicked up glass and dirt as he slid into position behind the other Hostile, backs facing each other. He aimed his LSP down the incoming avenues and patted Saveli’s shoulder twice without looking to let him know he was in position to support the rear.
 
Devlin had been quick to fall into line as a teammate, which Saveli couldn't help but respect. Though, he wasn't sure if it was the man, or simply the training as a whole. Nepleslian Marines were intensely disciplined in boot-camp, screamed at for weeks on end by hulking drill-instructors. His own instructor had been a Nepleslian woman built like a Sund Wakir man. She always had something to say to someone, and that went triply for him, the Space Goat. Whether it was about his silver-capped horns, his facial markings, his secondary eyelids, his glowing eyes, the ports all over his body, or, of course, his very bare semblance to goats; She always had something to say.

That, and the stares from her that made him feel like a piece of meat. Whilst normally flattering, he was quite aware on Nepleslia's history of cannibalism.

Still, no time to dwell on those past things, there was a train station that required investigating, and Devlin had given him the go ahead. So, the soldier curled into the station, gun up.

"Moving in." radioed Saveli to other Marine.
 
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