Locusts Chapter Two: Show me the way to go home...

[Toastburner B]

General James T. Kirkham stood in front of troopers and and “sailors” across three ships…of course, in the Brazil and the Mongolia, he was replaced by a holographic avatar. Still, the General had a unique talent of being able to broadcast his sheer presence through the holographic network, so even though they knew they were just looking at light, the men and women onboard the ships felt as though the General was right there with them.

On board the Austria, of course, Kirkham stood at the command podium.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said, “as most of you have to realize, we are no longer with the bulk of the 1st’s Fleet element. In fact, there are only 18 ships in our little flotilla, three Command Carriers, seven battleships of various configurations, and eight transports. Something else you may of noticed: There are no refugees, no Colonial Militiamen, not Armored Cav personnel. This operation is a Mobile Infantry and Fleet operation only…we’re not going to be hanging around long enough to need the other groundpounders.”

Left unspoken was another reason for limiting this to a MI/Fleet op. Just last night onboard the transport Rio Grande, a Plauger cell had been put down by Fleet Security mid-transmission. While the bulk of the cell was made up of refugees, there had been a number of military personnel among them…including a Fleet engineer that allowed them to pirate the signal to allow them to broadcast. Mobile Infantry was an elite grouping, taken purely from the best of the other branches. As such, there was very little chance of Plauger infiltration in the MI, as they would have to be very good at killing “the Lord’s messengers” to get that far. The elimination of two of the branches from this operation further reduced the chance for Plauger intervention. At the same time, due to reports of radios being placed in various quarters, set to turn on at the time the signal was pirated, Fleet Security was going through the rosters with a fine tooth comb.

“This will be a hit-and-run operation, people. We are not here to stay. We ship down, grab our objective, ship up, and get out of town before the Locusts catch up with us.”

The General took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

“Almost nine years ago, many of us here were forced from home. I know that all of us have been uprooted now…but this was different. There was no orderly evacuation of civilians, there was great plan in place for us to return. We fled because the other option was to die. For most of us, our friends, our families had been overcome in the tide of the Locusts. There were not Evacuation Points…just once place where a few lucky thousand made it off the planet, and left millions to their fate. At first, we held comfort in the fact that they had more than likely died quickly…but then came the revelation of the Fields on Earth, where our own kind had become little more than cattle under the mercies of the Locusts. Now, we found ourselves wondering if any of our loved ones lived in such a state…and found ourselves almost wishing they were dead, because the alternative was so much worst.”

The General took another deep breath. “People, it is time we find out. We’re going home.”

The sphere of Mars appeared in front of the General, with a handful of points highlighted. “These mark where the old bio-domes were constructed during the first colorizations of Mars. All evidence points to these being locations of Locusts Fields on Mars. They have life support, but not at the sacrifice of being able to harvest the bio-matter of plants. Our objective is to break into domes, and liberate as many people as possible. As you know, attempts to do this on Earth were…unsuccessful. However, the brains back on Titan believe they have found a way to do this.”

The image shifted to that of a Locust strain. It looked like a mix between a centaur and a cockroach. “This is a Rancher strain.” Kirkham continued. “These are in charge to the ‘cattle’ in the Fields. There is evidence that these Ranchers somehow control the animals in the Fields. Theories range from pheromones to telepathy, but we believe that it is the separation from the Ranchers that forces the people interned in the Fields to go into the depression that leads to death. As such, one out of every five squads will be tasked with the capture…as in live, people…of a Rancher.”

The General scanned the assembled crowed. “We are doing this for more than sentiment, people. Our job is to take enough bio-matter from Mars to make Delta follow us to the belt, where the people in the Outer Colonies have been working for a surprise for the Hives for quite some time.”

“Once more…we’re going back to Mars. We hit the Fields, liberate as many people as we can, capture a healthy number of Ranchers, and get out of there before the bugs know what hit them, and draw Hive Delta to its destruction. Fleet Air Support will be on sight to prevent any counter attacks. The space operations will be left to Rear Admiral Ichigo Yamata, Specific orders will be sent along to squad COs, as well as redeployments for squads that got hit hard in that last action. ETA on Mars is still a few weeks off, but drills start in two days. Be ready. Dismissed.”

((OOC: Feel free to post reactions to the briefing, some quick stuff during trhe drills...whatever. I will posts the kick off the raid in a day or two, depending on the flow.))

[Tarrin]

Clink....Clink the rythmic sound of weights could be heard in the room.
The room was empty apart from Tarrin, As soon as the general had mentioned the plan he had stepped out.

As Strykker had left one of the officers he knew shot him a glance, He had said nothing and continued on his way here.
Clink....Clink the sound was slolwy getting slower as Strykkers muscles became engorged with blood and lactic acid, Finally a loud Clang echoed in the room.

Raising off the bench Strykker made his way across to the next section, Picking up the cables he started his crossovers sweat beading off his brow.
It was funny, Each time battle was called Tarrin would end up here alone, Even when others were here they stayed out of his way and most of the area were cleared as he started his move towards them.

Maybe it was the fact some people had the idea all snipers were mean bastards, More likely it was the fact that the look on Strykkers face said 'Fu&* Off'.


It was then that strykker heard movement in the hallway, Obviously people were finnished chatting about the news and were going about their daly routines, Whatever the answer Tarrin pulled on the cables and started the next set, His mind now on moving the large chunks of lead.

[Barahad]

Kerr stood and saluted with the rest of the assembled MI as the general stepped back from his 'podium', but it was entirely automatic. Kirkham's words were still sinking in.

Home. Mars. Kerr had never expected to hear those two words, but it made sense. If there was a trap being prepared for the Hives, then it made sense to draw them all into it. But to return to Mars...Kerr was jostled out of his thoughts as the officers around him split up and went about their business. The brass higher up would be meeting with the General to finalize plans for the raid, and once they were finished, the battalion commanders would start breaking the plans down by regiment, and regimental commanders would begin breaking plans down by company. Eventually, it would trickle down to platoons, which is when Kerr would finally see the little piece of the war he could call his very own.

Until then, he could try to relax, though he found that he was already swinging down towards the maintenance bay on the Austria, to check up on the status of the platoon's suits. He hoped the fleet techs had pounded the dents out of them, at the very least.

As he walked, his mind came back to rest on the most momentous words of the day: 'We're going home.'

(OOC: I just realized now that the general's name is very reminiscent of a certain science fiction TV character...I'm getting slow in my old age.)

[Toastburner B]

“Until we can get some proper reinforcements,” Kirkham tells the assembled group, “I’ll be keeping the Raiders and Lt. Kerr’s squads together. You worked well enough together on back at EvPNA875, no point in breaking up match-up that works. I’ll leave you to fight over command organization at your convince.”

The group is no longer the combined forces of the three ships…or even the complete compliment of one of the ships. It’s a smaller task force, one of many organized to hit the old bio-domes on Mars.

“This is your target,” The General says, highlighting a point near the equator of Mars. The hologram zooms in, revealing a small bio-down. “This was New Los Angles in the days of the first colonists. Despite the name, however, it was one of the smaller bio-domes…and as such, I’m sending in a smaller team. Like all of the bio-domes, after the terraforming was complete, New L.A. was abandoned, but kept in working condition on the off chance of a catastrophic reverting to the original environment. However, as I explained before, with the arrival of the Locusts, many of the plants that made the terraforming possible have been harvested for bio-mass. As such, Mars is now uninhabitable, save for the bio-domes, which make them the logical place for the Locusts to place their Fields. Five squads will hit New L.A. Morrison, you’re squad is in charge of capturing a live Rancher…remember, without the Rancher, anyone we rescue will go into a coma and die within days.

With another tap of his remote, the General zoomed the image out to a view of locale area around New L.A. “You’re attack will follow the basic outline of the entire planetary raid. Fleet fighters and bombers will go in first, to test the Locust’s anti-air capabilities, and to neutralize those assets as need be. After the sweep, you will sent in on dropships. Despite the Fleet sweep, we’re planning on the LZ to be hot, so the dropships will be going in hard and fast. Once dropped off, the teams will enter the bio-domes, eliminate any militant-strains in the area, and proceed with the rescue of civilians. Once New L.A. is secure, the Potomac will come down, load up the civilians and the captured Ranchers. Morrison, you’re squad will “escort” you’re guests the entire time, so you’ll be going out with the transport. Once loaded, the dropships will pick up the other squads, and another Fleet attack will cover your exit. Rather simple and to the point.

“Also, I have so good news.” The General said. “To counter the new strain…Hazes, Hazers, I forget which you boys are calling them…R & D has whipped up something with a little more kick: A single-use HVM launcher. I know that single-use weapons are little old fashion, but it’s the best they could come up with on such short notice. It’s pretty simple to use, and it will be included in the sim-software. Speaking to which, squad COs, you’ll be getting the software shortly…the usual package, everything from standard to worst-case. We still have a week before we make Mars, but I want us to be ready when we get there…we aren’t going to time to dink around in orbit. Dismissed.”

((OOC: Okay guys…let me know if you want to do sim runs, or if you just want to jump ahead to the real thing. At the very least, Bar and Azi need to hash out how the Raiders are going to fit into Kerr’’s command structure.))

[Heliomance]

Rob grinned at the prospect of a new weapon to play with. He was already planning the best way to put it to use. Sending it up in a cluster of heat-seeking missiles would be no good - the things would target the HVM. But if he hid it in a group of unguided missiles, and covered them with some good old-fashioned lead slugs... that might work.

[Gorefiend]

Angel looked at the idea with a bit of skepticism. He'd been in a party to capture a few warriors and soldiers for study once. It was hell. The tranquilizers that were supposed to knock out an elephant were only effective in making the soldiers a bit drowsy, and even though the patrol they were taking on was really small (20 Locust, 10 warriors and 10 soldiers) they almost lost a man, and the dropship with the cages for the Locust had to be taken to salvage due to the extensive damage it recieved. And that had been a small group with no support for miles. He knew this would be hell...

He looked around after everyone was dismissed, and cecided he'd do something useful. Most of the squads would be recieving simulators immediately, but seeing as he was still an unbound sniper it was unlikely he'd recieve anything. There was, however, a slight upside to that. That was what was on his mind as he headed to the sniper simulator. It was a very intricate program in that, while one was welcome to bring in a squadron to practice defending a fortified position, solo snipers could have simulated squadrons and focus on their target practice. There were even records for longest time holding the fort, with much competition among many of the snipers. However, as he climbed into the simulator, no such thoughts were on his mind. Only the tirgger in his hand, and the target animated in his scope.

Point. Shoot. Reload.

[Toastburner B]

The sim suits were pretty basic. A full body basic exoskeleton, complete with headgear, suspended in air. The suit could simulate anything, from zero-gravity to fighting in a high-gee battle...like, say...Jupiter.

Or, in this case, or dropship going in hard.

According to almost every sense they had, everyone in Task Force LA was riding a dropship manuvering to evade anti-air fire...the expected anti-air fire. The dropship pilots were in a more classical simulator, but where none the less training just like everyone else. Of course, New L.A. was designated a low priority target, so expected Locusts resistance was expected to be light.

"Alright, people," Kirkham came over the comms of everyone in the task force. "This is our expected resistence range. Hit the bugs, save the people, and get out intact. You hit dirt in 20 seconds. Good luck."

As promised, 20 seconds later, the shaking stopped, and the doors opened. The simulated landscape of Mars was beyond the door.

"All teams, go!"

[Barahad]

"PLATOON!" Kerr's platoon sergeant was using his best parade bellow. "Secure the landing zone!"

Kerr's restraints were already off and he was jogging down the ramp. All three sections of his platoon were deployed, and as he reached the rocky soil of Mars, they began to spread out, widening the landing zone for the dropships coming in close behind. For this practice drop, his platoon was the point of the sword, with the rest of the group maybe five seconds back.

Ten seconds after hitting the surface of Mars, his platoon sergeant radioed. "Landing site is secure sir." By now the other platoons were pouring out of the dropships, allowing Kerr's platoon to range closer to the primary objective.

"Roger," Kerr flipped his comm over to the command circuit. "We're moving forward. Stick to the plan, and we'll let you overtake in thirty seconds." Switching frequencies again, he radioed a select group of MIs interspersed with his regular platoon members. "Raider group, you have go for fast recce. Keep contact to a minimum. You're thirty seconds in front of us. Once Li's Lions overtake you, fall back into your assigned sections."

Kerr watched on his HUD as the members of the formerly independent Raider squad jumped away from the slower and heavier assault suits standard for all members of his platoon. During the planning for the mission, it had been pointed out - and rightly so - that platoon efficiency would be highest if the changes made to the T.O. (Tactical Organization) were kept to a minimum. As such, Raider squad had become Raider group, to be used as a light recon screen for the platoon. When not on that duty, they were slotted in as fire support and runners in each of the three sections.

Two minutes in, and everything was going according to plan. This made Kerr nervous. Though he knew that the simulation was designed for optimal conditions, it didn't make him feel any better. The leapfrog had given way to a line advance, with each platoon shoulder to shoulder, bearing down on what remained of New L.A. Kerr's platoon just off the center-line, and he felt a brief surge of pity for the flanking platoons - they had the toughest job, by far.

Two-minutes thirty. Scattered resistance had sprung up, but the MI down the line had followed doctrine, stopping up bug holes when encountered, and generally discouraging the survival of anything insectoid on the surface. The dome of New L.A. was a lot closer than it had been before.

Three minutes. They were two hundred yards from the dome, and facing the first organized resistance. A small swarm was gathering to deny the ops-group entrance to the dome. The controlling nodes went first, picked apart by platoon sharpshooters, and the rest of the bugs followed in short order. Clipping the rifle back to the chest of his suit, Kerr stood up, raised his arm, and pointed at New L.A., adding the age-old command to the motion. "Forward!"

Four minutes, thirty seconds. They were inside the dome now, moving along the perimeter, neutralizing whatever battle-bugs they encountered. Morrison's platoon was already entering the fields, with the explicit purpose of capturing healthy ranchers. At five-minutes forty-five, Kerr knew that the two flanking platoons would be turning inwards at the far end of the dome, to begin herding the civilians in this Field toward the exit and the incoming transport. His platoon would turn inwards at seven-minutes thirty to funnel the civilians closer to the airlock. The western-most platoon would move at the same time, and together the four platoons would have the civilians ready to go by the twentieth minute of the operation.

In all that time, it was assumed that Morrison's platoon would have subdued and begun to transport a fair number of healthy Ranchers.

Checking his HUD, he was pleased to note that they were succeeding. The first simulation was a bird, designed to get their confidence up, to let them know that the mission could be accomplished. In the following simulations, they would learn that they could do the same things under the most hellish conditions imaginable. Knowing the general, Kerr had a funny feeling that 'hellish' wouldn't even begin to describe what the future sims would put them through. Tuning back in to his squad chatter, he heard the leader of second section announce: "...section, turn in and close with counterparts Time to close the jaws."

"Seven minutes thirty," Kerr noted on the special circuit provided for direct contact with his platoon sergeant.

"Bird course sir," came the reply. Both men shared a brief laugh before resuming their work.

[Heliomance]

As he sat in the simulator, entrenched in position near the dome and watching the horizon for bugs coming in, Rob had a sudden thought.
"We don't know how the locusts make the humans they farm so docile. Maybe just being in the presence of the Ranchers will do it to you. In which case... this mission is going to be a very expensive failure."
He resolved to talk to his superiors about the idea as soon as the simulation was over.

[Tarrin]

Sitting outside the simulator watching the vidscreen, Strykker fingured one of the fifty cal rounds from his barret, This was a close quarter fight, The expected range would be too close for him to use his gun, Sitting around watching a droppod was a waist of the sniper core and thus wasn't nessesary.

He hated these types of operations, Mainly he would sit back and watch, Looking over at one of the tecs running the simulator "Bird hey." when the tech noded back Strykker sighed and went back to the vid screen.