[NSMC 309th] Mission 1: Finding Hope

Outside the Fort: The Death Field

There wasn't really much that Fang Yin could do other than duck back out of view as the two power armours clashed, backed into the corrugated metal used to support the front of the muddy parapet. She made sure to cover their new team mate as the medic caught up, but only having one plasma grenade left meant that... Well, if Private Mallan somehow lost the duel, the best she could manage was a surprise suicide attack, really. If it came to that.

"...Keep it together Minnie. We are still in one piece..." A small pat onto her companion's shoulder, though the free hand was readying the bomb in earnest, rifle simply dangling from it's sling. It would have been nice to say something more reassuring, but as tired as she was, Fang didn't really feel like pondering too long on how it was the medic who felt sick. "I'm not sure where that native got off to. Maybe it's an idea to go back to the bunker and get some bigger-"

An audio broadcast interrupted that line of thought, from the tank commander. Frozen in place whilst the pooled water bubbled at her feet, the soldier resisted the urge to stick her head out, and see exactly where the tank was in person. She was supposed to be using the HUD. That's what the training was for.

The return of their cyborg allies, though, she seen that coming. Their metal bodies were colder than the surrounding blaze, making them ironically easier to spot with her own heat-sensitive false eye.

-"Understood Lieutenant. Moving."- Fang's raspy voice responded on the coms. -"But be aware that Fergus is still engaged with that enemy PA, over..."-

"You!" Was the rather more uncouth response to the native. She didn't know their names, and was starting to get a little bit sour about getting dragged along by some stranger. "There is a Maximus tank behind us, and we are the support team, understand?... We are going to push, but please come with my vehicle! I can't keep following you like this, it's against my orders!"

Not wasting a moment more, they then jumped back over the entrenchment, waving for the medic to follow suit.

"An armored spearhead is what we are equipped for, dammit! So let's take advantage of that!"

Outside the Fort: Sōkō Neko

Ella glanced up through the driver's optics, seeing the little scrapped together APC come into view. Not wanting to throw off the turret's aim, she rotated the the tank to have the front armor facing the APC before rolling the tank forward slowly, mainly to cover the infantry but also to force the APC to retreat lest they wanted a tank shell to rip right through them. Clutching her little Hanako doll, Ella watch the APC for any movement, waiting the cannon of the Sōkō Neko to roar with it's shot.

"Come on. Fire already!" She said mainly towards Tim, but also the APC. The anticipation of the showdown was killing her.

Outside the Fort: Sōkō Neko

Tim gave a growl, somewhat defensive in nature as he loaded another HE round into the gun, closing the breach. The gash on Tim's head from being knocked into the turret wall was pooling blood past his brow into his eyes and was splaying his vision. To a child, he might look like a demon, to everyone else he was just the tank's gunner and impromptu loader.

A homegrown APC shouldn't need SABOT would it, there is HE in the tube. Nah, it'd probably crack by the sheer explosive force alone. At least blast the shield off so the coaxial gun could see. The gunner's right hand cradled the trigger for the main gun until Tim's vision cleared enough to properly see through the sights to see that it was over the center off mass. With a quick tap of the automatic range finder, and the slight high-pitch whine of the barrel moving to match the pitch, Tim yelled over the idle, "On the way!" and squeezed the trigger until the massive 155 millimeter main gun gave its own opinion on the matter.

Outside the Fort: The Death Field

Minnie gasped, upon removing her mask and letting it rest on her armor. Her throat had begun to build bile and the young medic was finding it increasingly hard not to choke on the buildup.

And now without the masks filter, Minnie was at least hopping for some fresh, cool air to settle her. But had to make due with the equally choking taste of various metals brought about by impacted ordnance, smoke, and corpses. And while it was a complete change from the smell and taste of anti bacterials and a sanitized environment like she had back at the HQ, It wasn't all unwelcome.

Because while she was still deeply frightened by the scenario and conflict taking place around her, A certain sense of excitement had crept up on Minnie as her bodies Fight Or Flight response had started to pump above average levels of testosterone, estrogen and cortisol and had been creating a high from the hormonal cascade currently taking place inside her nervous system.

She had allowed the presence of the Maximus to comfort her from the presence of pirates that couldnt even seem to reach the armor with their arms, She allowed the equally reassuring presence of a suit of friendly powered-armor to fight back whatever amalgamation the raiders had thrown together for a suit because she had faith in the might of a Nepleslian knight to come out on top.

but above all else she held her comrade in the highest regard and factor to her safety. And the former tension keeping Minnie at a safe distance from her was quickly fading.

"I'm with you," Minnie squeaked her agreement, climbing out of the trench with a renewed vigor and a second wind. "Lets push the advantage and finish this!"

Maybe being one of the adrenaline jockies wasn't so bad. Minnie thought to herself as she brought her carbine back to the ready and started off towards the Maximus at a combat pacing.

Death Field

With the knife lodged into the Aggressor, blinking lights, alams blaring around him, but the PA seemed to continue to roar with a fury of a machine that had been sitting idle too long. Or maybe that was Fergus, as he dropped the AOP and gripped the hobbled together Hostile by the shoulder with his new free hand. Pulling the junker PA in, the Cook drove in Vibrosaw Knife into the sniper's body as they had attempted to do to him.

However, the 309th member didn't stop there. Many had been killed by this pirate, and justice demanded retribution. Turning all of the Plasma Chaingun Turrets onto his enemy, he unloaded them full force. Carving a deep gash into the helmet all the way down the body, attempting to obliterate the PA beyond use/repair and the pilot beyond recognition.

Fire spilled out the Maximus' barrel, the beast of war roaring a single time in response to its gunners wishes. The bloody splatter and desecration of the slain sniper made the battlefield roar to life with so much energy that it made the impact of the HE almost silent by comparison. The turret was blown clear off, the front of the APC exploding outward and upward as its driver cap was launched like a shook-up soda can. The back opened its side hatches, the survivors spilling out either on fire or with clear panic on their face. Pirates and brigands weren't built for a war, only a skirmish. They were visibly breaking, these fresh reinforcements, and that had a profound reaction along the entire enemy line.

And then the mortar smashed the APC's interior bed and detonated the vehicle entirely along with the rest of its survivors in a visceral storm of shrapnel.

"Nepleslia Forever! Fuck. Them!"

The large ID-SOL had barked it out as his surviving elite squad rushed up and began to double-tap the bodies with full bursts from quickly-looted rifles. The symbolism was that it didn't matter what they faced. The militia wasn't going to back down. And that sparked the loudest rallying cry yet, the trenches to their flanks and rear all becoming a quickly-rising blob. The duster-wearing militia were all yelling their own spins on the cry, rushing ahead to push the line across No Man's Land. It was hundreds upon hundreds of meters of visibly-rising men and women charging a battlefield, firing on the move at the now-turning backs of the broken pirate forces.

Inside the Sōkō Neko

"Squad, consolidate. I want the Aggressor on our right, infantry on the left. Tank, forward slow. This battle is ours. Let's clean up and help these militia boys and girls earn their Nepleslian pride back."

Letting his robotic hand's fingertip slip off, Juno did something that he hadn't been able to do since the reformation lost him all his many elite comrades from the glory days of the unit. The Kuznyetski male sat down in his commander's chair and actually leaned back to relax, letting out a sigh.

"Thank fuck that the crazy Hanako stalker down there didn't get us killed... or those assholes with their danger-close missile strike. Nepleslia needs a ship that can support infantry without nearly blowing us to pieces..."

Reaching to tap his internal radio, his eyes shifted over to Tim as his voice cut over the tank crew's communications.

"Good job, you two. We were understaffed, but I'll make sure we draw strength from the platoon and request additional manpower from the General himself. Corporal McClosky and Private Duville... just... good job. Now, let's conserve primary ammunition and prioritize secondary and tertiary weapon usage. I want our arrays and guns running hot until we've re-established border control of the Fort itself.