Feanulde sighed as she reached the area holding their suits. They, of course, didn't need any further checks, and the rational voice in the back of her mind told her that any corrections she made were liable to do more harm than good in light of that, but the irrational part demanded occupation with a potentially complex task to settle her nerves. Without the constant guiding pressure of Totality directives, the latter had its way far more often than she cared to admit.

Nobody had cared to follow her after she pursued Veep. That could be a good or a bad thing. She considered these implications as she collected a few diagnostic devices; stowed for transport as they were, there was fairly little she could do with the MAS, but there were still some smaller tasks she could redo. They didn't feel her an imminent threat to Veep. This was technically good, but also highlighted another of her anxieties about the upcoming battle. Many of the other members of the team were hardened combat veterans; Feanulde, on the other hand, was an engineer whose main job was to avoid direct engagement with the enemy for the vast bulk of her career. She was less competent than the rest of them in this regard and painfully aware.

It also meant that they felt no need to follow up on any emotional distress they detected. This, of course, could mean they simply detected none, which was mixed but ultimately good in her mind. It could also mean that they cared little enough for her wellbeing to check, which was bad. It also meant none of them had detected it and decided to take advantage in some way, which was good.

Lack of information. Speculation is inefficient. No point.

She returned herself to her tasks. Idle systems responded normally. Visual inspection revealed no loose connections or hairline fractures. Attempts to start up were correctly interrupted by detecting they were in stowage. No obvious electrical faults, even after probing with her innate abilities. The blood and sinew of the systems were hale and hearty, to put it another way, the bones strong and the skin tough.

Strong enough to face the Totality? Maybe. A part of her didn't believe it. The Totality lived up to its name. It was everything. It encompassed all technology, all power, all knowledge and all force. That niggling doubt that anything could be done about them resurfaced and was promptly drowned once more by the very same entity's continued influence on her thought patterns, the useless thought discarded in service of the greater whole that was now her team.

Before she realized, she was out of checks to do again. "Damn."

Keeper shoveled the steaming mixture of food on his plate into his mouth as he listened to Kerris's offer to Veep. The clashing palete of sweet, savory, and salt anathema to him. The air, free of the chemicals his kind needed to keep breathing for extended periods, was overwelmingly sweet. He ate voraciously, keeping his mouth shut as he went. Kerris offered Veep a hunt and to join her on her racing escapades. Interesting.

Now the warrior priest knew full well the Dagorath siblings were particular with their words, the invitation was not given to him. Though, perhaps as a consequence of his time spent amongst those outside his own enclave, he could not quiet the urge to speak true. He swallowed, before speaking softly. "Ah, the starved spirit of battle..." He sat up straight with a rictus grin, eyes narrowing on the Darogoth sister, before exualting in that vigorous manner he often did, "I would also enjoy being a part of your righteous hunt." Keeper then leaned forward slightly, his face at rest and bombastic-warm demeanor taking on a sinister edge, "My home is night, only the Seeker finds Kithil in the dark." He then leaned back, a warm laugh and a placid warm smile on his face.

"I see."

HB acknowledged the leader's words with seemingly only the bare minimum of attention, eyes fixed on a point somewhere behind him. Nevertheless, they were very aware of the world around them. A pointed ear twitched as the twins made their opinions known, the Totality cog noting their comments but letting them go without remark. What was the use in replying? There was nothing HB could say that would add any value to the conversation, little as there already was.

The Egyptians had not joined the Coalition, for reasons that had made sense at the time. Perhaps one day they would, perhaps one day they wouldn't; it mattered not. Things happened as they happened.

-----------------
They had sat alone in the room for some time, waving away Jacobin's concerned offer of company. The Devil moved when it wanted to and engaged with others when it wished, neither of which it did often. Solitude and stillness suited them when not otherwise occupied, a machine at rest waiting to be switched on. But engines did best when warmed up and HB, while not as fastidious as some of their comrades, did see the wisdom in performing gear checks.

Thus they found their way to the MAS hangar, hooves clacking quietly against the polyurthane coating the floor. Had they wished to they could have moved entirely silently but had learned that people tended to find that unsettling. It was a good thing HB had allowed their presence to be known, for they shared the space with the rather high-strung Feanulde.

"Good evening." they said by way of greeting, dipping their head. "There were no major issues with your suit."

It wasn't a question. Had there been a serious issue, HB assumed the elf would be much more perturbed than she was currently.

@Chevaleresse

"There were no major issues with any of the suits," she corrected, almost reflexively. "Insofar as one can say there were no major issues with something following such a primitive design. Utterly lacking neurolink, absent sensory sync, and not even the most rudimentary self-repair, not to mention the lack of redundancy inherent to using only noble metals for the nervous system."

Feanulde was more comfortable around the one known as HB, and she had neither the will nor the capacity to hide it. She feared them as much as she did the others, of course - more if one considered the direct physical danger posed. The Devil, however, was something she knew. A tool, a weapon, a cog free of the machine yet still lined with teeth and largely inert until engaged. She understood who and what HB was, in a way that she doubted even Jacobin did. No, this one wouldn't hurt her under their own volition, not unless she was judged an imminent threat to the group, or it turned out that the doctor's methods failed on exposure to the right stimulus.

"I trust that you are functioning properly as well." Another statement. "Unless you've come to me for additional checks." She would have been better at maintaining the suite of augmentations HB possessed before changing sides, of course, but she had little doubt in her ability to maintain the less practical, less advanced replacements the Coalition had provided the trooper.

"This one assumed that would be the case." HB nodded, glancing over at their assigned suit. "But it is better to check and not need to than it is to not check and discover a flaw in the field.

One faulty reading, one mistimed servo-that was all it would take for disaster. Combat forced improvisation, but every jury-rigged solution ran the risk of sudden failure. HB did not believe in taking unnecessary risks and thus appreciated Feanulde's fastidious nature. Her files indicated that she had been a valuable component of Totality operations, and the regime didn't make those kinds of notes for nothing.

"All systems are operational and functioning as intended." they demurred. "The only potential concern is potential information warfare once in Egypt, but if the communication augments fail, this one has backup systems in place."

They preferred to work on their augments personally, but it was nice to know that there was someone who could help in a pinch.

"This unit is satisfied having you on the team. You have quite the track record."

@Chevaleresse

"I suspect you're one of the only ones that feels that way. The average resident of the Coalition is a sentimental fool who is liable to care more about whether one has maintained their feelings properly than their equipment." She wasn't so ignorant as to think emotional state was unimportant to those who hadn't had such things suppressed by augments, nor so lacking in self-awareness as to not realize her own was more volatile than most, but the sentiment remained. "I have redundant methods of communication in place as well. Failing those, I should be able to break through most standard countermeasures using my own suit's equipment."

Something in her head clicked into place after a moment. "You're aware of my record?" she asked, tone switching from businesslike exasperation to almost fearful.

"Ah, Silver. I do have a question of you, if you have the moment."

Gripping the 'handholds' now, Maxon was using them as sort of a ladder, taking care to hook the talons of his feet in as well, traversing his way up. He would step when he was in the prime position to do some pull-ups overhead, and proceeded to do so.

"I was wondering if you knew this... The Totality, of course, occupies our planets and uses our resources, but has command ever located a world they might care about, like a homeworld, a Totallus Unus, if you will?"

Silverwind leant back against one of the fuselage ribs as Maxon climbed his way up and started his work out, looking up at the Dranfel with a mix of amusement and admiration as he showed his physical prowess, speaking as he did the pull-ups. The inside of the huge transport plane was loud, what with the sounds of flight, the engines and the planes' various systems. His ears pricked up so he could listen closely to Maxon as he spoke.
He hummed, his ears swivelling and his thick, fluffy tail swishing once as he considered.
"Not that I've ever been aware of. Not a home planet, at least. A few strategic or controlled planets that didn't belong to any of us, sure. An' ones where they have factories, production plants, an' all that... Sure there's prolly some sorta plans fer goin' after it, but nothin' I've been made aware of - yet, anyways".



The flight was uneventful for hours, and became virtually boring after a while. Silverwind stretched out on the jump seats and managed to get some sleep for a while, after getting himself some food. His extensive experience of a soldiers' life allowed him to drift off despite the noise and relative discomfort of the jets' hold.

However, his rest was interrupted as the loadmaster shook him gently awake with a look of concern on his face as the vulpine canuss stirred awake with a jolt.
"What is it? Something wrong?"
"Sort of. Come with me to the cockpit, sir; there's a message for you".
Silverwind grumbled and swung his booted paws to the floor and followed along still stretching out his muscles and shaking the sleep off of him.
After a few minutes, he came back; much more businesslike and alert with a grimace on his face. The loadmaster and other assisting crew followed in his wake, and immediately went to the trucks and started to release the loading restraints that kept the MAS suits in place. The sense of movement shifted as the plane moved, changing course, and the vulpine steadied himself against one wall of the fuselage as the plane moved around them.
"Listen up everyone!" he called out loudly to gather their attention. "Change of plans, as things have escalated somewhat, an' not in a fun way. Good news is, we ain't gonna have to drive through the desert. Bad news; it's because we're takin' the much more direct route down, since the Totality have come pokin' around th' Mirror, an' we need to get down there double quick. Get helpin' unload the suits... an' preppin' em for an airdrop...!"

@Cozure, @Smike, @FalloutJack, @Lovely Bones, @Chevaleresse

The lady Dranfel smirked with a light tilt of the head as Veep responded.

"Once again, a chance to show your abilities. At the very least, the cooperation of two in such a sport will carry us farther than I alone."

Maxon was uninterested in such a pasttime, so she figured that someone else who spends their time dealing with machine equipment would. And since Veep did seem perturbed by his earlier confrontation with Feanulde, it seemed fair.

It was directly after this that the Keeper spoke up in regard to the promise of a clandestine act of battle. Ah yes... Back to the matter at hand. Kerris shrugged slightly, before gesturing to him.

"As Veep said a moment ago, it would be up to Captain Silverwind. I would not say no. Let us merely say that the option is there to bring up, when all is in readiness."

Yes, it really depended on their canine captain. Speaking of which...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

His ears may have perked to hear Maxon speak, but he rumble of the large dragon-y man would hardly be lost over the noise, when he meant to be heard. In any case, Silver could see the disappointment on the Dranfel's face when his question was answered. There was a pause in his pull-ups as he processed the new data, and then as he continued...

"I had hoped there was something so morale-breaking as to reflect the pains inflicted on all of us, but alas...maybe it is not meant to be. Very well. Once step at a time, and claim their strategic battle points, it shall be. Don't let me distract you from your own matters. This is merely my routine."

He would let the captain get back to his own business, the interruption spent. All of this, of course, was before...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>



...and now, we're at after.

All had been taken care of for pre-battle preperations, hopefully. Food, sleep, and whatever else would done with now, as matters began to pick up. Indeed, the two Dranfel had managed to get rest, as they were use to doing so in hostile territory out of necessity. Of course, it was not long before Silver had some news for them. Bad news. Well...yes and no, as Kerris looked to her brother.

"You DID wish us to be hurried along."

"True, but I'd hoped that it would be to arrive through the Mirror before it was discovered."

"I believe the humans have some addage about the plan never surviving contact with the enemy."

She then looked over at the Felness, saying "Let us away, then." before turning and heading for the MAS Suits, double-time. Others could easily help with the unloading process and the parachute preparation. Kerris and Veep would have to suit-up and get the machines up and running for the ride - Read as 'Fall' - down there. Maxon was indeed going back there to aid in the heavier tasks before going for his own equipment. Now was the time to rush, as they were definitely on the clock and heading for a fight. The only question was...which world would it be happening on to start with?

Keeper's placid smile grew to a wide toothy one, then receeded again. Perhaps his eagerness was overplayed, still not being fully sure of these other beings and how they do their social dances, the lizards not least of all. Battle glee is consuming, but he'd have his time to slake his thirst for blood. Then Keeper heard the announcement by their commander, resting his fork on the half finished tray of the steaming culinary abomination. Change of Plans! Escalation. Direct route. Prep suits. Airdrop. "Judgement time." he growled cold and venomous. The pale gennari's posture straightening and his face hardening into a steely scowl.

He dabbed the food from his mouth with the napkin, swiftly redonned the black tactical gloves that tucked into the dull-metallic grey vambraces worn over the sleeves of his frock coat. Then he cupped the sacred mask and brought the face of agony over his own. The top of the mask slipping under the slight lip of the flak helm visor, before clicking into place with audible hissing resounding before ceasing. The black glassy eyes of the pained vissage briefly flashing red before dimming to black again, before pulling the obscuring black hood over his helm, the upper ridge of the thick cowl-like hood fixed in place with magnetic force letting out an audible click.

Keeper stood then, taking a step back from the table. He made an ovaloid symbol with his middle and index finger while he curled the rest and lightly beat the breastplate worn over his black frock coat twice. As he regarded his squad mates, solemnly, "I'wardrana." Before giving a subtle nod, turning heel, and bolting to his post with impressive speed. The metal tread of plated hooves pounding as he made way to the MAS suits.

Snip

HB blinked once as Feanulde ripped into the Coalition, neither agreeing with her assessment nor leaping to defend their comrades. It was clear that the Human-dominated organization did things very differently from what was mandated in Totality organizations, the differences in culture so vast as to be at times insurmountable. It did not surprise HB that the elf disdained their new masters and their reliance on emotion, although the Zealot did feel a touch of something resembling amusement at such a sentiment stirring an entirely emotional response.

But the elf's fear confused the Gennari, HB realizing that Feannulde both knew and assumed less than they had thought.

"Yes. Part of the standard education procedure for units like this one is the flash memorization of all known fugitives from the Totality, and the mental database is periodically updated via direct link to various networks. This is to make it easier for the unit to perform searches. Seeing your face pulled up your file automatically."

---------------


Jacobin had been sleeping on the flight, slumped over in her seat and quietly grunting with every spot of turbulence. She had always been good at snatching rest when it was available, a skill of immense value in the military. Fighting alongside aliens was no different-maybe they didn't need to sleep but Jacobin, still very much human, did.

Unfortunately, duty called. When Silverwind shouted for everyone to mount up she did so, automatically unbuckling her harness and stepping over to the MAS units. "I guess there's no uncertainty now." she groused, pulling at a strap. "Can't say I like walking out to meet them on their terms."

Marching out across the open desert under the clear sky, perfect prey for all sorts of satellites and sensors and sci-fi Star Wars nonsense.

"When you say poking, do you mean a scout patrol? Or a division?"

@Rhona W

@Smike

"I know that much," Feanulde snapped. "I shouldn't be in that database of fugitives." Her mind had already taken off a mile a minute, imagining what sorts of retaliations her family might have experienced on her behalf. The Totality was a massive organism. It could easily afford to lose a sliver of healthy tissue around a tumor. "I took pains to ensure that I would be presumed dead in an accident involving a malfunctioning drone. According to official databases, I am dead, not a fugitive." She had, somehow, grown more agitated as she spoke, pacing back and forth in place. "This is going to ruin everything," the elf growled under her breath.

@Chevaleresse



"This one understands your concern." the Devil said neutrally, not rising to Feanulde's agitation. Being a Gennari meant they could sense other people's emotions, viewing their fear and anger from a neutral distance, as if watching a recording. The elf had taken precautions, wise precautions, but learned that they hadn't worked as well as she would have liked. This was understandably upsetting but puzzling; surely such an outcome would have been foreseen by someone seeking to dodge the Totality?

"While the process of determining who is on a list and who isn't is hardly explained to the rank and file, guesses can be hazarded based on experience. You were entrusted with specialized training and acknowledged as an elite engineer who worked on effective drone units, your survival was thus beneficial to the Totality. They likely searched the wreckage of whatever accident you staged and did not find enough biological material to confirm your death. That, combined with the timing of your disappearance, likely raised questions, and you were marked as a defector. If you were found you would be brought in to be rehabilitated into a drone yourself; if you were truly dead there was no cost in leaving you as Wanted."

HB cocked their head, red eyes fixed on Feannulde with curiosity.

"Would it not be illogical to assume that one individual, regardless of how intelligent they are, would be able to permanently outsmart an empire of advanced minds linked with machines?"

The elf shot an angry glare at HB, and the muscles around her mouth worked as if to begin some kind of tirade, but the only word that came to her was a resentful "Yes." It was clear that she wanted to lash out at something, and the stoic Gennari before her made for a fairly easy target (as she knew HB would remain just that in the face of whatever abuse she heaped on them.) "Though there are equally many reasons to ensure such lists are kept up to date, primarily revolving around efficient allocation of computational resources and manpower." Feanulde folded her arms, moving her glare from her conversational partner to the ground.

"Perhaps I was simply arrogant. It would hardly be the first time I was accused of such a thing. Regardless, having Totality forces actively searching for me, specifically, is a serious obstacle to my own goals, nevermind the risks posed to greater operational security and viability." She glanced back up. "I will need to report this to the captain. Much as I am loath to disrupt whatever tenuous trust the Coalition has in me." The elf shook her head irritably as she spun to look up at the suit she'd been inspecting previously. "Of course, perhaps I'm much less intelligent that I believed I was, and this is already known and accounted for. It'd be quite fitting, I suppose."

At Silverwind's news, Veeps breath caught in his throat. Looked like a surprise stealth attack with Kerris was now out of the question. They were going in directly. This would be his first taste of combat since he'd escaped his home world.

The voice in head kept saying "Stay calm, remember your training, you can do this." After a few moments he reacted and hurried over to his MAS. He hurried through the startup checklists in his head as he strapped in nd powered the suit up.

He found his voice and called out to Silverwind.
CAPTAIN! Are we landing or dropping in from a hover?
He didn't like how high pitched and nervous his voice sounded.

"When you say poking, do you mean a scout patrol? Or a division?"

"From the sound of it," Silverwind replied as he started offloading his MAS from the truck, the built-in hoist lowering it to the floor of the bay as he spoke. "Looks like it ain't much more than a reinforced squad. Enough to be a problem for local forces, and ta give us a bit of a challenge. But not more'n we can handle if we do it right, ah reckon"

The cargo plane rumbled and jolted as it changed direction, the sensation of motion moving through their bodies at the huge jet lowered in altitude. The loadmaster and assistant staff moved around, aiding with the unloading process and the squad's technicians readied and loaded weapons, but kept them on safe. Hoses and support equipment were disconnected as the minutes ticked by quickly.

CAPTAIN! Are we landing or dropping in from a hover?
He didn't like how high pitched and nervous his voice sounded.

Silverwind was all-but ready to climb into his MAS, the back of the suit open and him clad in his operators' suit. He stepped in and the machine folded closed around him like metal origami, the weight and pressure of it against him reassuring. As the suit came to life, he hit the external speak to reply to Veep's question.
"This model of aircraft ain't capable of hoverin', Veep. Ain't gonna be a landin' either - we're air-droppin' in from a low-altitude jump out the rear ramp. Plane slows down and goes low as th' pilot dares, and we jump an' use our jets for brakin' our descent. Don't worry none; we practised this a few times over. Y'all will be fine"
The suit powered up fully, artificial muscle fibers energised and the weight of it was off the vulpine. It stood, and after a few experimental movements in the enclosed space, the tech gave him a nod of affirmation, and he headed toward the rear of the bay. The loadmaster gave him a thumbs up, which he returned with the armoured gauntlet of the suit.
"One minute warning, commander!"
"Roger that"
As the lights in the bay snapped red with the blare of a klaxon, the ramp powered open with a whine of hydraulics, natural light spilling into the bay from a crack that yawned open to reveal the desert below them, now much, much closer. The tops of some dunes and rises seemed almost close enough to brush the belly of the transport, it was so low, but it didn't look that much slower. Nonetheless, he clicked over to the squad radio channel.
"Assemble on the ramp, people. We're less than a minute out, so prepare for drop!"

@Smike, @Cozure, @Chevaleresse, @Dragon Mahteru, @Lovely Bones, @FalloutJack

"Already prepared," Feanulde replied over the channel, having retreated to the safety of fiddling with her own suit after her stressful conversation earlier. She had to admit, the machine made her feel just a bit more in control of her life. The elf hadn't actually spoken to Silverwind yet about certain issues, however. She justified this to herself with the excuse that it would likely be more distracting than useful to know.

Speaking of distractions. Her mind was wandering away from her current task. Focus. She ran through the final steps of her startup checklist - largely brief checks on auxiliary sensors - before stepping forward. Despite her aversion to standing on the front line, she positioned herself just behind Silverwind. "Starting environmental scans. . . now." It never hurt anyone to have too much information about their surroundings, after all.

With several headed to their MAS Suits, what was one more from the Amazonian-like Dranfel? As Maxon was preparing his rocket launcher and putting on his field items before his jump pack, Kerris went and slipped into her pilot suit, tying her coat to her waist so that she wouldn't have to leave it behind. She liked that coat. Now, there was, of course, some minor issues with the fitting of her into a MAS Suit. She had height and she had horns. Naturally, they just made it a bit taller to manage her form. The tail wasn't an issue, because she simply wrapped it around her waist, but as a result, Kerris' midnight-blue and red-highlighted MAS Suit did have an unusually-shaped head. Nobody's perfect.

As you might expect, her MAS Suit was designed for heavy combat, all weapons and no special utilities. Kerris glanced at the Hwavy Laser and checked to see if she could fire it while doing the combat drop. It might be viable to do that with its extreme range and accuracy, instead of waiting and having to use up her hard ammunition. Mmm...perhaps. It was about this time that she heard Veep expressing his concern about the manner in which they were getting to the ground. Alas, this was a simple cargo plane, not not really designed for VTOL functions. And with no airfield, that did mean they could only take the plunge from the sky to the ground, as Kerris suspected would happen. Silverwind also specified a low-altitude jump, which might make things easier on the laser's aim.

At that moment, the klaxon sounded, and they had one minute. Suited up with the others, Kerris headed for the plane's rear ramp.

"Allow me the honor of the first jump, if you would. I'm loaded to fight, and for defense, so I will establish a perimeter."

"Take heed of your surroundings, Kerris, and leave none standing that are near."

"Of course, Maxon."

Both of the Dranfel were prepared. As a regular soldier, he would jump after the actual heavy machines, but be vigilantely ready with his launcher on the way down.

"Okay, GO GO GO GO!!" Silverwind yelled, as the lights in the cargo bay snapped red and a repeating beep sounded in all of the team's MAS helmets, and Maxon's headset.
As she'd requested, Kerris was out first to establish a perimeter defence. Then HB, Keeper, Veep, himself, Fea, Jacobin, and - as he'd rightly said - Maxon bringing up the rear to avoid being squashed by a falling MAS Suit. Even as big as he was, they were large and heavy suits made of an array of materials studier than Dranfel flesh and bone.

There wasn't far to fall, even with the plane at a hundred feet or so, and the desert came up quickly. The altimeter sounded off and automatically fired the suits' jumpjets to cushion the landing, but Silverwind overrode its control and guided himself in, skidding to a stop on the hard-packed sand. The air was already alive with sound, even as the rumbling roar of the cargo planes' engines rose as it climbed back out of harms' way and receded into the distance. Gunfire and explosions filled the air, shouting voices in languages he didn't understand, and the alien sounds of Totality war machines and weapons fire.
The forward base around the Mirror had been set up pretty logically. The Mirror itself rested in the dry bed of a Wadi; hard, dried mud with the scrappiest and hardiest of miserable-looking vegetation clinging on in some corners around it, and rocky surfaces making up the shallow walls of the depression. In front of the portal, a few hundred feet back, had been defensive positions. Made of sandbags and other portable materials, they had held some kind of heavy weapons, as well as presumably, observation equipment. All of which was now billowing thick, greasy black smoke. Beyond that was another line of fortifications, with more on the banks of the shallow ditch-like depression. And beyond and between those were various tents and temporary structures. Among them were the flashes of gunfire and shouting voices.

Their descent hadn't gone unnoticed - given how low their transport had come, and the manner of their debussing, it would have been a surprise if that were the case - and already Silver could see movement toward them. The ripping sound of Totality assault rifles tore down toward them, along with that distinctive, processed, vocoder sound of operational chatter from the enclosed helmets their line troopers always wore.
Helmets that didn't come off, he thought with a grim note.
Somewhere else, among the buildings, hooting, warbling, distorted calls rose up; indicating there were the biomechanical synths as well; at least the smaller Runner and Heavy Trooper ones. And judging by the explosions, some armed with heavy weapons. At least there were no airborne enemy forces so far, and someone was still fighting back. It was still more-than containable, if they moved quickly.
Decisively, he took action and relayed his orders quickly.

"Kerris, HB, Keeper - stick on me and we'll push them back and secure the Mirror. Veep, Valkyrie; pick off the heavy weapons units and commanders from range. Fea; stick with our snipers and jam the enemy's coms and sensors. We don't want them bringin' in any reinforcements if we can help it. Maxon, cover Fea and the others while they works, and take out anything that the others don't hit!"

That said and done, Silverwind unslung his shotgun and moved forward, loosing a burst from the heavy minigun on one arm to cover their advance and pin down their attackers as he moved.

@Cozure, @Chevaleresse, @Smike, @Lovely Bones, @FalloutJack

The worst part of the mission was always the actual drop-in, at least when it was hot. Leaping off a plane or rappelling down from a chopper or deploying from an APC, it was all the same:

A few brief moments of sheer, terrifying vulnerability replete with the knowledge that you couldn't do anything except hope the enemy had bad aim, followed by a mad dash into position so you could start laying down fire.

Back when she started in the Home Guard, everyone knew that the next invasion would be by the Soviets. Jacobin had been familiarized with the deep battle doctrine so favored by the Reds because it had been assumed that she and her comrades would be the ones trying to stop it, fighting desperate running battles against T72s and BTRs while NATO struggled to keep control of the skies. It had been a harrowing prospect, but as the years went on and war never materialized it slipped to the back of her mind.

And then one day it came back with a vengeance. Instead of human conscripts with AKs she was fighting aliens wielding plasma weaponry, trying to dodge fire from spacecraft.

It took two-and-a-half seconds to fall from the plane to the unforgiving ground below, just long enough for Jacobin to really dwell on the insanity of the situation. She cursed the Totality for coming and Earth for calling her up to fight them and herself for sticking around long enough to get herself crippled and shunted into a wheelchair...

And then the jump jets engaged, the great stomping boots of the Gernsback kicking up sandy grit. That was the signal that it was time to stop bitching and start doing; classic compartmentalization.

"Understood Silv, I'll keep them off you."

As big as the M9 was it was hard to find cover for it, but that didn't mean Jacobin wasn't going to try. She leapt forward with a burst from her jump jets, taking up position behind the burning remains of a YPR-765. Whatever hit had punched through the side armor and destroyed the poor souls inside of it, but it was intact enough to serve as a strongpoint and the flames billowing through the open hatch didn't disturb her aim much. She couldn't even feel the heat safely ensconced in her suit.

It had taken time to acclimate to shooting accurately with hands not her own. Trying to shoulder a rifle without actually shouldering it made her brain ache in a way she couldn't explain, to say nothing of trying to aim with a scope while looking at the world through a screen. But she knew what she was doing, zeroing in and waiting for the Totality to make its move-

There! Coming around the side from behind the remains of a medical bay, a heavy trooper looking to flank. Jacobin shifted her barrel to follow and fired once, tucking a 25mm shell into the softer, actuating inner skin rather than the hard carapace. The result was messy, but effective.

No way that was the only one.

"Veep! Watch the right flank!"



The Devil was already running while the commander relayed orders. In such a situation, they were comfortable assuming as to what their role would be, preferring the infinitesimal chance that they were incorrect to wasting precious seconds getting into position. They had the shield; they took up the front.

"This unit recommends staying behind it." they radioed to the others, their voice almost serene in its soft, spacey cadence. Despite the din of battle in the distance and the roar of the plane engines somewhere above, HB was completely calm. Their vitals readout put their heart rate at thirty beats per minute, the same as it was back at base. Fear and excitement were rudimentary chemical imbalances that served no purpose in battle, and thus HB had worked to remove them from their mind. They did feel, however, a vague sense of satisfaction.

Of peace.

Rifle fire pinged off the Devil's shield, high-velocity rounds ricocheting uselessly off into the sky or the dirt. A squad of line troopers, pinned down by Silverwind's suppressing fire, nevertheless attempted to hit the sensor suit of the vanguard rushing towards them. HB lifted their shield higher and fired a couple of grenades from their launcher, twin bursts of plasma melting the light infantry where they stood.

"This one is moving to engage in melee. If possible, try to slip around the enemy so we can herd them."

A Runner tried to get behind to shoot at their back, catching a tomahawk backswing to the 'brain' as a reward.

Veep landed heavily behind Jacobin and drew out his sniper rifle.

Copy that Jacobin! Veep answered, though his voice came out higher than normal, betraying his fear. He cleared his throat and repeated himself more normally, trying to pass it off as a light burp. He scanned the right side of the battle through the sniper scope, and tried to control his emotions. Deep breath. Suddenly he saw an enemy Heavy lining up a shot on Jacobin. Focusing quickly he took aim and shot the weapon, disabling it. At once the Heavy turned to him and aimed another weapon. Oh no, Veep has been so focused on firing, he hasn't realised he was completely in the open! He quickly pointed a foot to the side and activated a quick thruster burst to get out of the line of fire, while simultaneously shouting ON THE RIGHT! WATCH OUT!

He scrambled to his knees and took aim again, firing at the Heavy in a panic. It connected and the Heavy went down.
Sorry! My bad. I panicked.
Then momentarily disconnecting his mic, muttered to himself, Come on Veep, get it together. You can do better than this.