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[color=#bea55d]Jacobin Dokken[/color] 
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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. 

[color=#bea55d]"Understood Silv, I'll keep them off you."[/color]

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 [url=https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/YPR-765#]YPR-765.[/url] 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.

[color=#bea55d]"Veep! Watch the right flank!"[/color]


[center][h1][b][color=0086ce]Horned Bastard, 202nd of the Ravenous Cohort[/color][/b][/h1][/center]

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. 

[color=0086ce]"This unit recommends staying behind it."[/color] 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. 

[color=0086ce]"This one is moving to engage in melee. If possible, try to slip around the enemy so we can herd them."[/color] 

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