Castle Brian,
Pain,
The Periphery,
16th September 3068
The night sky to the south-west was lit up with bright explosions as the combat sappers edged towards the environmental control bunker. Each soldier was dressed in a stealth suit that was designed to mimic the environmental conditions around them, making them all but invisible on visual or infrared sensors. They crawled forward inch by inch, edging towards the gun and mortar turrets that defended the bunker. Each sapper carried with them a kilo of C-22, three detonators of various types, override cards and a small toolkit.
One by one they disabled the turrets, before moving to the armoured tops of the air purification vents, while others found and took control of the passive and active sensors, fooling them into sending back a looped signal to anyone who might have been keeping tabs, while the diversionary attack took place on the other side of the mountain.
Over a kilometre away, Captain Howlett watched the engineers through the sights of his sniper-rifle. Although he had reached the Distinguished Rifleman grade, he knew in his heart that he wasn't as good as his platoon's assigned long-rifleman. But, he was first and foremost a marine, every marine was a rifleman and he couldn't let his old unit down. Soft footsteps on the broken ground had him reaching for his silenced SMG, but a voice whispered, "Thunder".
"Flash", Howlett countered, keeping his hand on the weapon until the unmistakable shape of a suit of Iconoclast Battle Armour came into sight, the helmet's faceplate raised. "You guys took your time".
"The best laid plans of mice and men", the Elemental shrugged. "Are your people ready?"
"Yes. We go in the moment you have the immediate area secured", Howlett nodded, going back to looking through the night vision scope on his rifle. "We secure the entrance, keep an eye on the prisoners and any slaves we find while you guys press on. The 95th will be coming in behind us to back you up. I'd like to go with you myself, but we're Pathfinders…we're not kitted out for that kind of fighting".
"And we are not trained or equipped for the type of fighting you do", the Elemental nodded. "Ok, let's go!"
Castle Brian,
Pain,
The Periphery,
16th September 3068
"Men of England stop your dreaming
Can't you see their spear points gleaming
See their warrior's pennants streaming
To this battle field
Men of England stand ye steady
It cannot be ever said ye
For the battle were not ready
Guardsmen never yield!
From the hills rebounding
Let this war cry sounding
Summon all at England's call
The mighty force surrounding
Men of England onto glory
This shall ever be your story
Keep these fighting words before ye
Guardsmen will not yield!"
The massive speakers, mounted on a pair of converted J-27 Ordnance transports, vibrated visibly as they continued to blare out across the low valley towards the pirate base. The basic premise was simple: deprive the opposition of sleep and keep them guessing what you would do next. There was a moment of silence before a new song started, the mournful sound of massed drums and bagpipes shook loose several nearby rock formations.
"There was a soldier, a Scottish soldier
Who wandered far away and soldiered far away
There was none bolder, with good broad shoulders,
He fought in many a fray and fought and won
He's seen the glory, he's told the story
Of battles glorious and deeds victorious
But now he's sighing his heart is crying
To leave these green hills of Tyrol
Because these green hills are not highland hills
Or the Islands hills they're not my lands hills,
As fair as these green foreign hills may be
They are not the hills of home...
And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier,
Who wandered far away and soldiered far away
Sees leaves are falling, and death is calling
And he will fade away, on that dark land
He called his piper, his trusty piper
And bade him sound a lay, a pibroch sad to play
Upon a hillside but Scottish hillside
Not on these green hills of Tyrol
And now this soldier this Scottish soldier
Who wanders far no more, and soldiers far no more
Now on a hillside, a Scottish hillside
You'll see a piper play this soldier home
He's seen the glory, he's told the story
Of battles glorious and deeds victorious
But he will cease now, he is at peace now
Far from these green hills of Tyrol"
Colonel Noonan waited until the last line of the final verse, before he gave the order to open fire all guns...