ThunderSkua

Lieutenant Kwarski looked down, watching his platoon fall through the mist. A stray shell rocked the Valkyrie. The port engine burst into flames. "Alpha 3B,your assistance is needed, repeat, Alpha 3B, your assistance is needed,"

Something whirred to life at the back. It stepped out of a cupboard and stepped towards Kwarski. It looked humanoid, but it definitely wasn't human. At least not any more. It had pale white skin and three arms, only one of which was the things normal colour. The other two were metallic. A silver sort of colour. These arms ended with a welding torch and a mechanical claw. Other tools were visible inside these cybernetic enhancements. Drills and buzz saws, for example.

"Yes master," it slowly said, in a rough, mechanical voice.

"We have damage done to the port engine. It's in flames and the turbine is jammed. Try your best to fix it."

"Orders accepted, ready to perform."

The cyborg strolled over to the hatch and started performing a multitude of different operations.

A few minutes later, the servo-mechanic turned away. "Engines at full power, assignment completed," It walked back to its dark corner and shut down.

"Pilot!" Kwarski yelled. "Take the Valkyrie back around, I'm going to drop with the rest of my men,"

"Roger that," replied the pilot.

Kwarski felt a sudden jolt, and the flyer went around.

"We're in position, you can drop now,"

Kwarski looked back to his command squad. They lay slouched against the side of the hull. There was Monroe and Pritchards, the heavy weapon specialists. Shakel, the assault weapon trooper. Gant, the vox officer. And, finally, Harker, the supplies carrier. They all looked as grim as ever, but Kwarski knew that they were all ready for whatever they came up against.

"Ok men, we've got clearance to drop. Move, move, move!"

One by one, the men flung themselves through the door, dropping through the mist and pulling the ignition for their grav-chutes.

"Ok, I'm the last one, take the flyer back to base"

"Roger that,"

And with that, Kwarski flung himself out into the sky. The freezing cold air blew in his face. Kwarski pulled the cord, and the engines on his grav-chute whined to life. From his sudden drop, the wind in his face turned to a gentle breeze.

As soon as his feet were firm on the ground, Kwarski pushed a button and his grav-chute shut down. He ran over to the canopy where the rest of his platoon was.

"Good day men. The colonel will be over in a bit. Please be seated,"

Colonel Trane walked towards the men from another canopy. Kwarski's platoon stood to attention and saluted.

"As you were. Now, I want to get this over with quickly. There's a rebel base outside the woods. We need you to lead a raid and capture one of their men. We need more information. There are some salamanders over there to get you there quicker. And don't forget your cameleoline. There are snipers everywhere. Now, move, move, move!"

Kwarski and the men charged forwards towards the scout vehicles, and clambered aboard.

"Forwards!"

The fleet of vehicles surged forwards through trhe undergrowth. A distorted message mumbled over the vox-net.

"We… you're coming…………..there's…………. point."

Kwarski switched his comms from receive to transmit.

"Cameleoline on men. They know what we're doing. Stay hidden!"

Kwarski set his tank to stealth, put on his camo-cloak and watched the other personnel and vehicles disappear. Although they were invisible, Kwarski's thermal scanner still picked up the platoons signal.

There's the base. He thought, looking at the ramshackle defences ahead of him.

"Halt," he said into the comm-link. "Pick your targets. Open fire!"

The silence broke instantly, and the forest screeched to life with the sound of missiles, lasbolts and slug weapons. The gates and huts shattered under the pressure of the incoming fire.

"Advance!"

still in their stealth mode, the salamanders surged into the base as the defenders reacted