Chapter 5ArtemisAshon III High Orbit
Bridge of the
Irish DreamsDeep Worlds’ Collective
Outworlds Verge
4 Februrary 3041
The bridge’s bulkhead slid open to reveal Artemis, who strode into the room, her posture firm. “Still nothing?” She addressed the room’s occupants — Roy, Bryan, Anders and Samson. Communications with any friendlies on the surface of Ashon III had ceased since the data dump that had given them the planetary intel, and Kurian’s Bruisers had been trying to contact them ever since.
“Negative ma’am. I’m now quite sure Shogun Trinity must have knocked out their Long-Range Communications relay. We’re going in blind on this one.” Samson turned to face Artemis, his right hand fiddling with the controls of the holo-table beside him.
“We should shake up our previous plan then. Just popping by and plopping ourselves down is too dangerous a strategy. We’re gonna need a forward party to secure the LZ.” Anders stared blankly at the holo-display of Ashon III, his hands subconsciously tapping against its metal surface.
Roy leaned forward. “Hot drop? We can drop our Jump Platoon to make sure the place is safe enough for a landing.”
At the mention of ‘hot drop’, Bryan stirred. “I can fit the mechs with jump packs in case things go pear-shaped. It’s a viable plan.”
Artemis reached her right hand up to her head, running her fingers through her long jet black hair thoughtfully. “Alright then, we’ll go ahead with a hot drop. We’ll make an atmosphere insertion above the proposed landing site, drop our Jump Platoon and see how it goes. Captain Samson, make sure you do thorough scans of the weather before we get in there. I don’t want to end up getting screwed over by a storm or something…”
Samson nodded. “Yes ma’am, I’ll get in a scan report as soon as possible, and we can get underway.”
Artemis breathed a sigh. Her hands slid down to her sides, hands grasping her cargo pants’ pockets. There were so many ways this could go wrong, now that they were going in blind. “Alright then, it’s settled. As soon as we get the intel, we’re going in. Bryan and Roy, make sure your ends are ready by then. If nothing else, dismissed.”
The meeting ended, and the five dispersed away.
<^>
Leon”Lock and load! Good luck boys, see you on the other side.” Roy’s voice fills the infantry hot dropping room of the dropship. Exiled Hell Jumpers’ Jump Platoon stood ready outside the room’s 3 doors that led to the outside world. There was little chatter, each man busy checking his weapons, doing double takes on his ammunition and adjusting his gear. Not that they needed to; everything had been checked once, twice and thrice beforehand, but it was a gut instinct trained from years of combat.
Lieutenant Leon stood at the very front of the three lines positioned outside the doors. He was in the middle line, his back was turned to the doors, eyes slowly surveying his men’s faces. They were looking mean and eager to fight. His trigger hand fingered his weapon’s grip absent-mindedly. Land, scout, call in. Land, scout, call in. Land, scout, call in. Simple enough…
“Keep it neat and clean down there men. I don’t want any casualties. First landers you know the drill, keep your eyes peeled and secure the LZ.” Leon looked down at his rifle.
He was armed with a S-22, an old tried and tested assault rifle design. It had great flat accuracy, a bullpup design and a fantastic holographic reflex scope. Not the rifle he had grown accustomed to in the DCMS, but he couldn’t afford to be picky.
The overhead light turned green, and stayed green. Men stationed by the doors punched the appropriate button beside them. The doors slid open, and air from the outside environment burst into the room. “Go go go!” Leon shouted over the sound of the howling wind.
He strapped his weapon to his chest, took a deep breath, and jumped. The sky’s thick clouds greeted him outside, thick mist obscuring the land below amidst the gusts that blew at his suit.
He opened up his form, legs and arms spread wide. The air resistance felt all too familiar, and for the first time in a month he felt the joy of being off a ship. Finally the master of my own fate once again.
A rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins as he watched the ground appear behind the mist of the clouds above, watching it zoom closer and closer, the howling noise of the atmosphere whistling across his helmet, the g-force shoving at his body, the instinctual fear of death rolling across his body. He lived for this.
On his left, his right and below him, his fellow jump troopers silently fell towards Ashon III’s ground together.
The ground rapidly drew near. A prompt appeared on his screen, informing him that he had reached the activation height. His hands reached out and grabbed the grips of his jump pack.
He primed his jump jets, repositioned himself into an upright position, and fired them up. Superheated gases bellowed from his jump pack in short controlled bursts, slowing him down at a gradual gradient. The chatter of the platoon’s fire teams reporting their statuses filled his ears. Area was clear of hostiles.
When he reached an appropriate distance from the ground, he fired his jump jets in a full continuous blast. His speed reached a crawl by the time his feet were just hovering above the ground. He killed his jump jets. His boots hit the ground, and he bent his knees to absorb the force of the impact.
He let go of the jump pack’s grips and pulled his rifle out from his chest, flipping its safety off. He held the weapon steady and facing the ground, and quickly surveyed his surroundings.
First thing he noticed was the ground’s colour. The tundra terrain was blue. The area they were in was flat for at least a kilometre, which would have been a disastrous landing scenario if an Opfor was present. Thankfully, command’s intel was spot-on — the place was empty.
All around him, jump troopers made their landings and brought their weapons to bear, rifles swiftly held level and trained on the horizon, positions braced and prepared for combat as they dispersed into a defensive circle, more and more troopers landing and joining to form the perimeter
Leon brought his right wrist pad up to chest level, opening up a comms channel with the Leopard. “Falcon come in, this is Raptor 1. LZ is secure, proceeding to scout the surrounding area, over.”
A female voice replies over the channel. Didn’t need much thinking to realise it was the CO. “Raptor 1 this is Falcon. Green on the scouting mission. We’ll be sitting around up here in the clouds, radio in if you need back up, over.”
“Raptor 1 to Falcon, roger. Raptor is oscar mike, over.” Leon closed the comms channel. He strode up to his platoon sergeant from behind, and slapped his shoulder twice.
Staff Sergeant Grenor, his platoon sergeant, nodded and turned on his heel to begin making his way around the defence perimeter, tapping on each of his section commanders’ shoulders. Each section then seamlessly and concurrently split themselves into teams of three, their re-organisation the result of mind-boggling proficiency and practice, not a spot of spontaneity to be detected.
As the platoon dispersed itself and left their beloved platoon commander, Leon linked up with the only other two individuals that had yet to depart — his runner and Staff Grenor.
The trio followed the teams that would be heading in the direction of their objective, observing them as they diverged away in the distance and ensuring the scouting mission would be effective.
An hour of trekking along the barren cold wasteland went by. No word from any of the teams; no news was good news. Time was up, and he signalled the other two to stop. The rest of the platoon was hopefully now holding in position, and it was time for the reports to come in.
The rest of the mission was eventless. They had to establish radio contact with each of the teams on encrypted channels, ensure that the sector was truly clear, radio in to command and tell them the LZ was green to g-
No sooner had he finished transmitting his report when a team suddenly radioed in. “Contact! Contact sir! 1-2 Raptor to 1-0 Raptor, we have contact! 3 vehicles about 2 clicks out! Guessing 3 wheeled APCs, over!” The trooper’s voice was sharp and elevated, but still kept to a low volume.
Leon blinked twice. Shit. His head immediately snapped to his runner on his right. “Re-open comms channel with command.”
The runner nodded, and began punching commands into his wrist screen. “Channel open sir.” He grunted.
Leon quickly began mapping out the situation in his mind. The contact was spotted by section 2 team 3, which was about north-east of the drop zone. They estimated a distance of 2 kilometers, and they were about 5-6 kilometers away from the dropzone. He sent a neural-signal through his helmet to open up the comms channel virtually presented to him by his runner.
“Raptor 1 to Falcon, we have contacts. 3 wheeled APCs about 8 clicks away from LZ, north-east. Please advise, over.”
“Falcon to Raptor 1, copy that. Falcon will be making planetfall. Ensure the LZ is secure and clear, over.”
“Raptor 1 to Falcon, wilco, over.”
“Wilco out.”
Leon closed the comms channel and turned to his platoon sergeant. “Falcon’s landing soon. I want a squad watching the LZ, while the rest collapse back here and prep to apprehend the contacts. We don’t know if they’re hostile or not, so make sure they’re treated as such.”
It’s going to be a long day. <^>
ArtemisThe rest of Genda’s Bruisers landed in the LZ about an hour later. Artemis and Anders deployed in the Wolverine and Phoenix Hawk respectively, and moved out with the foot platoon in wheeled APCs to meet the contacts Leon reported. By the time they reached, the jump infantry had the situation locked down. According to Leon, they didn’t put up a fight, alighting and surrendering upon seeing his troops.
The wheeled APCs were carrying a platoon of men who claimed to be part of the militia. “We come in peace.” They claimed, but the fact they came armed and as an entire platoon did little to ease the tension.
With Roy and his platoon taking over the jump infantry, who then moved to secure a perimeter, Artemis disembarked from her Wolverine, and proceeded to speak with the platoon’s OC.
“2nd Lieutenant Daniel of the Ashon Defence Forces, at your service ma’am.” A young officer in a brown uniform saluted sharply. It was a simple plain attire, his rank displayed on his right shoulder. His uniform looked slightly worn though, and his boots weren’t polished.
Beads of sweat trickled down his brow despite the cold environmental temperature. He was accompanied by a platoon sergeant on his right, as well as a platoon of shabby-looking militiamen behind him, their weapons slung behind their backs and standing at nervous attention.
The source of their fear of course lay all around them. The Exiled Hell Jumpers’ foot platoon of 35 men strong surrounded them, auto-rifles at the ready. Behind Artemis stood the Phoenix Hawk conned by Anders, standing tall and rather intimidating as it stared down the potential foes.
“Captain Artemis Genda of the Genda’s Bruisers, Lieutenant. Mind explaining what you and your platoon are doing out here?” Artemis crossed her arms over her chest. Her posture was relaxed and laid back, a purposeful move, given the tense situation at hand. She was flanked by Roy on her right, Lieutenant Leon on her left. Both officers were giving their most serious scowls, only unnerving the outsiders further.
Daniel hesitated, no doubt choosing his words carefully. “We’ve been monitoring your dropship since you made radio contact with us, ma’am. Colonel Jonathan sent us to lay out the welcome mat, and give you his regards. We mean you no harm.”
Artemis wasted no time in firing off a probing accusation. “How do I know you’re not from Shogun Trinity, impersonating ADF forces to assassinate our command team?”
The militiaman didn’t even blink this time. His answer came just as quickly as her question, “No pirate in the right mind would agree to drive right into the lion’s den for a fool’s errand, ma’am.”
It was at this juncture Roy decided to speak up. “He’s got a point,” he grunted, his arms copying Artemis’ crossed position, his frame stiff and clearly itching to leap into action in a nanosecond’s notice if the situation arose.
Artemis shot Roy a quick glance, before returning her attention to Daniel. “Alright then. So how do we proceed?”
“Colonel Jonathan’s eager to meet you. He was beginning to worry that the Collective’s mercenaries weren’t coming to bail us out. He’d like for you to move into the locked down industrial district to set up a base of operations, and from there work with your company to eliminate the pirate threat.” Daniel’s shoulders visibly relaxed a few notches as he spoke.
Roy shook his head. “Not happening. A mass move out of our forces with this little intel is an invitation for trouble. We’re going to sit tight here and set up our defences. The dropship would be right here too if things get too dicey.”
Daniel bit his lip, though retracting it within a mere fraction of a second. “Our communications hub has been silenced though, sir. That’s why we’re here in the first place. Our radio net cannot reach this far out, so conducting joint operations would be virtually impossible.”
“Not quite ma’am.” Roy jerked a thumb towards his second-in-command. “I can have Leon set up a communications relay line that’ll link up with their radio net, and we can get things going.”
Artemis stroked the handgrip of the sidearm strapped to her right hip thoughtfully. “Lieutenant Leon?” The man in question stepped forward from behind her, planting himself on her right, hands held together behind his back at an 'at ease' stance.
Leon bowed, nodding with approval. “I can have it done ma’am, but I humbly request the assistance of our esteemed guest’s manpower as escorts. My platoon will be spread out thinly, and some extra boots on the ground won’t hurt.”
Her gaze switched from one lieutenant to the other. “Lieutenant Daniel?”
Daniel replied without a moment’s hesitation. “We’ll offer our assistance to the best of our abilities.”
Artemis glanced at the 3 of them one by one, before finally nodding sharply. “It’s settled then. Leon, get your platoon organised and integrated with the militiamen. I want the teams formed up and ready to move out latest in 4 hours’ time. Can you get it done?”
Leon bowed once again. “Even if it’d cost me my life, ma’am.”
“Carry on.” Artemis turned on her heel to leave, Roy following closely behind. “What do you think Roy?” She kept her voice low, audible only to her XO.
“I have my doubts about the militia’s capabilities and loyalties,” Roy grunted, arms still crossed and his gaze fixed on the ground. “but I think we can get it done. Leon’s a capable man.”
Artemis turned her head to lay her eyes on him. “When did you pick him up anyways? I thought your second-in-command was Lieutenant Nick.”
Roy shot a glance behind his back as they walked, before responding, “Nick died back in December. I picked Leon up in the Outworld Alliance, back on Alpheratz while you were having your drinking spree after… that. He’s a distinguished DCMS officer who had a bright future, until he was framed for sleeping with a Sho-sho’s daughter.” He shrugged. “Standard career ruining nonsense, probably done by a rival. He ran to the Outworld Alliance and I swooped on the opportunity.”
“That’s good to hear. We’ve been having a shortage of reliable warriors as of late.” There was a short silence between the two of them. Artemis bit her lip. The memory of Norman was drifting through her consciousness, and a lone tear found release as it slid down her right cheek. “I miss them, Roy.”
Roy coughed a chuckle. “Imagine how I feel. My brothers fall each and every day, every battle.” He stopped suddenly, swerving to face her, his arms still crossed. Artemis stopped in her tracks and faced him. They made eye contact. His eyes were seeping with his pain, but the emotions in his voice were calloused, hardened, void of even a quiver. “Every one of our victories were paid for in their blood. Keep charging forward, ma’am. It’s all we can do. It’s all there is to do.”
Artemis’ gaze fell to the floor. Her head drooped low, and she heaved a sigh. “You really think I can carry on still?”
She didn’t need to see his face to know he was grinning from ear to ear as he spoke. “You’re hell’s Hellion, a Genda, apex predator and the grim reaper of mechs. What do
you think?”
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