RP: Reactivated Reactivated M4: Firebase Assault

[Commissar Farzi]

RP Date

YE 44.3.2

RP Location

Sandraker

Steiner was pouring over the data feeds-areal drone reconnaissance had finally located where the tracker's signal was coming; while the intelligence that Morris's squad was currently being processed the gribbly vehicle had been recovered and according to the beacons placed had come to rest at what seemed to be some kind of facility; the facility reassembled a cross with a series of towers jutting from it. The feed showed what looked like convoys coming and going, but they hadn't dared loitered their drones any longer than they had to. Either a factory or firebase-and the brief active scans they'd risked had shown it to be only moderately fortified with few if any trenches; instead having bunkers and strongpoints with a few walls for cover-either that or much like Bifrost their defenses were buried in the toxic soil. Of course, static defense such as theirs meant little when even infantry could be airborne.

He found himself wishing not for the first time today that Tacho had recovered-she'd been in the isolation ward since her injury; her armor would have greatly contributed to reconnaissance. However, now was not the time to dwell on such matters, there were gribblies that needed killing. "Yeomen's Morris, Andrake, and Auli'i report to the main gantry." He called over the intercom, and set a transmission to Pascal as well...

---

Morris had just woken up and was currently settling down to a breakfast of bread and cheese when the call came through. His wife looked at him for a moment, and with a nod of understanding slathered some butter on a few slices before placing a large slice of cheese and salted thruok between them making a crude sandwhich. "Duty calls," he said, giving her an appreciative kiss on the cheek before collecting his helmet and meal, "See you when I get back.' If he came back-thought that went unsaid.

The big man had finished his meal by the time he'd arrived, brushing away the crumbs off his brigandine. "Yeomen Sergant Morris reporting." He said with a salute-though when he spotted Pascal a shiver went down his spine-The presence of a knight-captain either really good, or they were in for a rough time.

 

[HarperMadi]

Yeoman Andrake, though her uniform clean and pressed, appeared at the Gantry as though walking out of the shadows clutching a cup of hot, caffeinated sludge. Based on the mat of hair and the brush in her back pocket, this was her first cup. And the ration bar in her other hand would have told Morris that Andrake was well and truly still half asleep and had not noticed Pascal just yet.

"Yeoman Andrake reporting..." Mike threw back a mouthful of the sludge, blearily looking to Morris as though hoping he could get her out of whatever mess the squad was going into so she could go back to sleeping in a hammock strung between hydroponic towers. "Sorry, my bunkmate had guests over."

 

[Charaa]

The short fox, Auli'i, stepped back from the machine she'd been fixing in the Iron Company's hangar bay, wiping a bit of grease from her hands onto her outfit. Her sensitive nose twitched at the familiar scent of metal, oil, and overheated circuits—a scent she had long grown used to, though she still disliked it. The technician stretched her arms, rotating her shoulders to ease the stiffness that had set in after hours of work.

"Okay... ship issue repaired," she muttered, glancing over her handiwork one last time. Her ears perked up slightly as if listening for any sounds of malfunction from the vessel, but it remained silent. Satisfied, she gave a small nod of approval.

"Time for this short fox to get cleaned up and grab something to eat," she mused aloud, already imagining the comforting scent of food replacing the harsh tang of the decontamination spray she'd soon have to endure. Before heading off, she checked her work tools and started putting them away in her pack, moving with the efficient precision that came from practice.

As she made her way toward the exit of the hangar, a soft chime sounded on the intercom. Auli'i frowned slightly, The words "Report to Main Gantry"came through. She sighed and signed in exasperation. "Looks like I gotta get back to the other work," she muttered, her tail swishing behind her in mild annoyance. There was always something more to fix, another task needing her attention.

With a practiced motion, she reached for her weapon, a compact but powerful piece of equipment that she had maintained and customized herself. Slinging it over her shoulder, Auli'i straightened her posture and began her walk toward the main gantry of the base on the planet Sandraker. As much as she grumbled, she knew the importance of her role, both as a Supply Smith and a technician. The machines and weapons wouldn't keep themselves in working order, after all.

Her steps were brisk, and despite the weight of the work ahead, she couldn't help but think about the meal waiting for her when she finally finished for the day. "Maybe I'll ask Mike or papa for a little extra training after," she thought, though the idea still made her hesitate. For now, though, duty called. "Apprentice Smith, Auli’I reporting for duty!” She said as she stepped beside Mike. ‘hey papa, sis, ready to destroy some gribblies?” She asked.

 

[Commissar Farzi]

Steiner looked at the trio-Mike looked half-dead with a mug and ration bar in hand, Morris had clearly finished a meal if the crumbs he was brushing away were any indication, and Auil'i's tail was waving rapidly, betraying her annoyance; the fox. In short the squad he'd been assigning some of the more difficult missions looked like a bunch of bed-raggled, recently recruited novices rather than the professional soldiers that he'd come to expect. "I do apologize for calling you in on such short notice," He began, indicating the holo display, "But unfortunately we have an opportunity that we can ill afford to miss-3 Days ago we were able to zero in on the tracking devices you planted-leading us to here." He showed the facility. "We have reason to believe this is a major firebase, located approximately 80 kilometers due east-in fact it may be the cause for the sudden influx of enemy units as indicated by this footage here." He showed the various armored units coming and going-mostly the lighter vehicles they'd been encountering lately, though a number of heavier elements could be seen. "At the moment we have limited intel on the ground defenses-" Several red markers appeared along the northern and southern parts of the facility "-these indicate possible strongpoints, as well as the intermittent foot patrols-while I am loathe to commit our forces to such a distance, if this is the case we may only have one opportunity to strike a proper blow against the foe"

"Knight Captain Pascal here has been place in charge of the assault," He said, indicating the old man beside him, "I will turn the briefing over to him."

Pascal looked at the trio; from what he heard their first several missions together had achieved mixed results. Spider mines had stalled the recon on the outpost, and their attempt at tagging enemy patrols had gone poorly to the point they'd been forced to abandon the mission after one of their own had been injured-a poor excuse some would say-but at the same time they'd recovered a fair amount of Intel.

In short; their successes seemed to be more the result of dumb luck and bumbling than actual skill-something that was unfortunately in over-abundance at the moment and rather undesirable in such a squad. Still, you worked with what you have. "After much discussion, we have decided to commit a total of 9 cohorts; 7 assault units and 2 artillery." Morris's eyes went wide-that was almost a full legion's worth of troops. "Given the circumstances and nature of our enemies, it was decided that overwhelming force was needed for this mission." Several arrows indicate points of attack as Pascal continued. "We'll be striking at dusk, with a preliminary hurricane bombardment, and then advance as quickly as possible to overwhelm any potential counter attack." Short, sweet, and simple-just how the big man liked it-but at the same time something didn't sit right with him.

"Sir," Morris began, chewing over his words, "If we're committing so many units to the front, why do you need an individual squad?" A slight smile played on the old man's lips. "The grandmaster has seen fit to give you a special assignment." That wasn't good. The mechanoid looked down at them. "Your task will be to gather any further intel on the enemy-computers, documents, ranking officers, even equipment while providing support to any squads as needed." He produced a particle rifle-a common gribbly sidearm. "In terms of equipment the Particle rifle are of great interest-if you are able try to secure any manufacturing equipment or design notes pertaining to them should they be present." While Steiner had his doubts that any such thing would be made available if this truly was just a firebase, but he could hope. "There is also the matter of ensuring your squad is back up to strength." At least as much as an understrength squad could be in an ad-hoc commando role, but Steiner needed a unit he could call upon at a moment's notice outside of his honor guard. "Junior Yeoman Susan Blood Report to the central gantry immediately."

This hopefully wouldn't be a disaster; assigning a fresh out-of-training yeoman was not ideal, but they needed a replacement for Tacho, at least until she made a full recovery.

If she recovered...

 

[iaincarter]

"... Report to the central gantry immediately." Susan grunted in annoyance at the interruption to his exercise, letting his heartrate and breathing continue to calm as he slowly lowered the thirty kilo dumbbell to the floor. He had learned early on in basic training not to ignore announcements just because they probably wouldn't be about you. Not wanting to repeat the experience of cleaning a training barracks' bank of shitters with a toothbrush, the Yeoman had quickly taught himself to pause whatever activity he was doing when the announcement called out. The way he figured it, it was only a matter of time until it became an ingrained habit, like a lot of the stuff the Iron Company had been training into him.

Still, this was no time for lollygagging or wool-gathering, not when he'd been ordered somewhere. Fortunately, one of the first things they taught you was how to get dressed and out the door in a rapid fashion. So, unsurprisingly, it didn't take him more than a couple of minutes to be roughly-cleaned and appropriately dressed, striding through the base in his grey-blue duty uniform. Also, unsurprisingly, several of his fellow knuckleheads unconsciously moved out of his way as his long legs propelled him across the base like a predator on the scent of it's favourite prey. That was one of those things you got used to when you topped seven feet in height and massed almost three hundred pounds of muscle.

Susan liked to call it the 'squishy mentality'.

Of course, Susan mused, it could also be because of his scars, visible mementos of fifteen years of getting into every fistfight, brawl and scrap that he could find. Or maybe it was the eight-pointed tattoo inked on his forehead in red the colour of fresh blood that so drew the eyes of those who crossed his path. There was even the chance that they were admiring his bald scalp or full, black garibaldi-style beard. Maybe it was all of the above, not that Susan really cared what they thought. Unless they wanted to make a fuss about it and throw down, of course. There was nothing quite like a quick rumble to get your blood pumping at the start of the day!

Assessing the potential combat promise of his fellow knuckleheads, and how best to quickly put them down, kept Susan busy until he reached the gantry access. Entering, he halted in front of the group and saluted. "Junior Yeoman Susan Blood reporting as ordered!" he growled out in his gravelly, deep voice as he ran his ocean blue eyes across the assembled knuckleheads.

Spoiler: OOC

If saluting isn't an Iron Company thing, assume that the drill instructor-equivalent that taught Susan thought it would be funny to make the recruits believe it was a thing, but nobody has told Susan otherwise yet. Feel free to poke fun accordingly. For an image of the mentioned tattoo, see here.

 

[HarperMadi]

"And rookie wrangling to add to the mess..." Mike's whisper trailed off as she broke off her already chewed piece of pimekin, passing the rest to Auli'i.

"With all respect, Grandmaster, our squad is good for infiltration, BSA sabotage, ambushes, and high value target management. We're a brawler, a saboteur, and a sniper, and Tacho usually provides air support." The woman speaking was short, too short to be Valhallan, normally, but she carried herself like one. Aside feeding the beastkin at her hip. Perhaps a farm kid? Some tucked away agriculture focused world that would have grown food to feed the armies. Thin built, but well muscled and sharp featured, with a mass of red-brown hair she was just now dragging a brush through. "No offense intended, Yeoman. I'm hopeful that you'll do well with us. I'm Yeoman Andrake, anti-armor and sniper support, Auli'i is our fluffy sweetheart with a penchant for making things not work and ambushes, and Morris is good at stopping forward progress so the other two of us can give the enemy a bad day. We've had a rough couple of missions recently, so we're glad for any support we can get. What's your go-to?"

 

[Charaa]

Auli'i stood still, her tail swishing rhythmically behind her as she listened intently to the briefing. Her sharp eyes were locked on the holodisplay in front of her, a detailed map of the facility they were about to attack. The image flickered with the outlines of buildings, barricades, and pathways that snaked through the compound. The facility was sprawling, a key position held by the Gribblies.

Her brow furrowed as she studied the movements on the display. Various armored units could be seen coming and going in real-time, mostly the lighter vehicles that had become familiar to her after several skirmishes. Fast and agile, they were often used for hit-and-run tactics, probing defenses and retreating before any real damage could be done. But today, she noticed something different.

Among the lighter vehicles, several heavier elements were moving into position. Larger, more imposing machines—artillery, tanks, and heavily armored transports—were strategically placed around the perimeter of the firebase. They were clearly reinforcing the area, preparing for a larger engagement. Auli'i's sharp mind raced as she pieced together what this meant.

This definitely seems like a major firebase the Gribblies are using, she thought, her ears twitching slightly as she picked up on hushed conversations around her. The enemy wasn't just defending; they were digging in, ready to fight hard to hold this position. The heavier vehicles indicated a possible command center or an important supply depot deep within the base—something critical enough to warrant such protection.

Auli'i's thoughts drifted momentarily to the task ahead. She was used to fixing and maintaining weapons and equipment, but on the battlefield, her role shifted. As a Smith, she knew every detail about the tools her squad used and how to keep them in peak condition, but here, in this assault, she'd be putting those skills to the test under fire. She would be alongside her team, using her compact weapon, knowing that every second in the fight mattered.

Her tail flicked with a hint of agitation. She wasn't one for idle waiting. Her mind had already moved ahead, thinking about how best to navigate the upcoming battle. Should they focus on taking out the heavier vehicles first to cripple the enemy's defense, or would it be better to move through the lighter units and punch through to the firebase's core? Her instincts leaned toward the latter—it was always better to go for the heart of the enemy, but they'd need to be fast and precise.

"Heavy armor in the perimeter, lighter units patrolling—probably scouting," Auli'i thought to herself, committing the layout to memory. She glanced around at her teammates, reading their expressions. She wasn't the strategist here, but she'd be ready, whether it was providing cover fire or keeping the equipment functional in the chaos of battle.
Her eyes shifted back to the holodisplay one last time. before Steiner called in another Yeomen, someone she wasn’t familiar with. She watched the man enter, before accepting the broken piece of the pimekin. Silently she munched it, slowly squenching her hunger. The New guy though, only time will tell if he was one of those she deemed the dirt, people like Revjak. or Family, like Mike, Tacho, Morris, and Steiner and so on who were nice to her.

 

[Commissar Farzi]

Morris shot a glance at Mike disagreeing with their assessment; their squad wasn't really well suited to any of those missions-they just happened to be the unlucky thurok fuckers that the grandmaster could call on short notice when he needed to throw bodies at a particular problem. "Alright-how soon do we mount up?" Pascal looked at him for a moment before nodding. "You have two hours-get your junior situated by then." He nodded to the grandmaster before turning and heading off to the staging area-likely to assign what cohort was where; it wasn't his business-or anyone's really-they just did what they were told. "Before you all depart- for the purposes of this mission you are now receiving the Temporary Designation of Onyx Squad," Said Steiner, causing the big man to look up at the mechanoid with a start-a new squad being formed for a specific mission was surprising-though he'd never heard this particular designation before, "Morris you are designated Onyx 1-1, Andrake is 2-1, Auil'i Is 3-1, and Blood is Onyx 4-1-get yourselves prepped for combat." With that the mechanoid trundled away, likely to oversee any larger preparations for battle.

"Alright Junior," Morris said as he turned to the newbie-he figured the best way to keep him out of trouble was to have him in the back with the big gun, "We're gonna need some heavier firepower than a few rifles; draw an assault hardsuit and plasma rifle from the smiths-I think they may have a volley gun variant down there." He wrote something on a piece of paper, "So see if this requisition actually goes through-if not just get a regular." He cracked his neck before looking at the other two. "After we suit up-all three of you eat till your bursting and drink till your sloshing-chances are we aren't gonna have any downtime once we the assault begins."

This was going to be the start of a very long, and likely very trying day...

---

2 hours later

In the back of the Defender Flamethrower, also know to its crew as the Pillbox due to its numerous mechanical problems Morris rested his head, trying to catch what little sleep he could before the assault hit-Thankfully Revjak had opted to command from a Myrmidon which meant an actual moment's peace for once. Granted the engine was groaning and occasionally clanking like a whorehouse full of old beds, but at least it was running and it was drowning out the worst of the wind. So there was that. He kept his combat shield close-it's EM screen fully charged for the occasion as his warhammer rested across his lap...

He wondered briefly how many yeoman would see tomorrow, let alone the end of the next few hours-and decided it was best not to dwell on it. It'd cut into his rest time.

 

[GingerGlitch]

A few wandering thoughts rambled through Nara's mind as she flew above the ground crew. Most of them centered around the mission ahead of them, a few strayed out of concern for Tacho. Now this was no direct personal concern, as she had no deep personal connection with the woman yet. This was more of an empathetic concern, as she had an inkling or two of what Tacho meant to some of the others. Especially what this unfortunate event meant to her sister Auli'i. She had peeked in on the injured norian briefly in between things, but she had kept it short. As she felt any longer of a stay would not only be mildly awkward but possibly inappropriate given their lack of personal relationship. However, she did do one risky thing. Given her knowledge of the make up of norian armor and its likely importance to Tacho, Nara did what she could to make sure what was left of it was preserved for Tacho. Granted there was a risk here in touching Tacho's armor and attempting to make sure its mindhive S'thae's slurry got changed, Tacho could be pissed and come gunning for her.

That risk of losing limbs would be completely irrelevant if she did not make it back from this mission however. Her eyes glanced over those below as her sensors scanned to check on the crew. Essentially assessing that no sneaky unwanted creatures had attempted to come up on them.

 

[HarperMadi]

Mike lay on the floor in the back of Defender Flamethrower, apparently asleep as her darkened helmet scanned comm channels for her to provide the much needed sniper support. Her shotgun hung from her hip, her pistol at her lower back, but the rifle against her chest was nearly her height, set on a bipod that could easily extend to a height to make her weapon fireable from a kneeling position. Not that she ever did.

Plasma sheathed kinetics for punching through and burning away armor, held in the hands of a woman who was malice and humor in her touch from miles away. Her suit was still greasy.

"Got a Norian contact on the HUD..." Moving for the first time, Mike tapped into her comm. "Norian contact, this is Onyx 2-1, please ID. Good to see a friendly face in the skies."