Tallum stood eerily quiet this evening. Day in, day out, artillery duels provided the bass backing crescendos of exchanged fire backed by the percussion of countless explosives to met out a blood-soaked symphony of destruction. The site of the Vortian people's valiant final stand against their Irken aggressors played host to the most brutal fighting yet over the past several months. Complete and total war waged on both sides. One for conquest, the other for survival against impossible odds.
The distant, roiling rumble of thunder occasionally interrupted the still, humid air. Another torrential downpour was all but inevitable. A staple of the region this time of year. Unwelcomed expectation by the locals and an infuriating slog for the invaders. Movement and momentum would find itself bogged down, unable to advance as once-pristine and dry ground saw itself melt into a river of vehicle-incapacitating mud. Mechs, with their substantial ground pressure, would sink fast and be impossibly lodged to the point of uselessness. Tracked vehicles fared only slightly better. Such realities and challenges left matters to the legions of infantry prepared to storm the last bastion of the Federation's homeworld.
All of this, however vital it was to the strategic plans of the Empire, was of little concern to Vult. None of this would be remotely possible until success first smiled upon them and their efforts. Their arrival saw a months-long stalemate of attrition finally be broken in the Empire's favor through careful, calculated operations. Each chipping away at the VDF's resolve as the last.
Today, the killing blow was to be delivered and they the tip of the spear.
The team, having negotiated the better part of a full day's time to prepare both mind and body for what was to come, now stood ready. Equipment and supplies double and triple-checked. Loadouts altered to expect the worst with additional ammunition, food, and medical supplies stuffed, crammed, and stowed into every available space. Additional heavy ordnance in the form of composite explosives, launchers, and a plethora of grenades were evenly spread about the unit to shoulder the burden without finding themselves laden down to the point of ineffectiveness.
Vult and his team stood ready to fulfill the orders passed down by Vaukt and the High Marshal. Those orders were passed down to Corr and Volx. The three officers put together their strategy of approach with the hand they were dealt. They were to gain entry through the phasic barrier via the procured VDF shuttle to avoid detection.
Once inside, Red Team would focus on the disabling and/or destruction of the barrier pylons nearest Sector 1. Doing so would disrupt the barrier's strength and begin permitting access to the assembled Imperial forces for the main offensive to begin in earnest.
Purple team, meanwhile, would insert deeper into VDF-controlled territory, behind their lines. The VDF shuttle would allow them to avoid being targeted long enough to do so without detection. Once on the ground, they were to wreak as much havoc as possible. Disabling and destroying enemy artillery emplacements, anti-aircraft detection and engagement systems, communications...anything and everything the VDF could coordinate their defenses to repel the Empire's advance and incur heavier losses.
A solid plan to be executed by field-hardened veterans of multiple engagements, the odds were reasonably on-par and to be expected. So long as the element of surprise was maintained amidst the ensuing chaos and the tempo of their activity did not relent, success was not impossible. Difficult, but not impossible.
Nevertheless, the Commander and his team boarded the waiting VDF shuttle. Rem sat in the pilot's seat at the cockpit, making final checks prior to takeoff and ensuring their waypoints were calibrated accordingly. The remaining members with their commanding officers boarded in orderly fashion via the lowered ramp at the rear beneath the crimson glow of the interior running lights.
Whatever was to be said had been said. Each man and woman of the respective teams knew their role in what was to come. Their training and experience would handle the rest. Only once everyone was seated, preparing to lock their harnesses in and gear stowed did the Commander turn toward the front of the craft. Familiar faces beneath mask and visor beneath limited lighting looked to him as he gripped the handrails running the length of the vessel's roof above their heads.
"Rem, status?" He queried over their shared communications channel.
"Final checks complete, spooling up now, Sir." She relayed amidst her flurry of activity. "Ready to push off on your word, Commander."
"Warm up and standby." Vult ordered, his attention drifting back to the rest of the team. "Alright, all eyes and antennae on me. Listen up."
He gave pause, waiting until they were situated and paying proper attention to him.
"We've been over the plan. You know your objectives. Each of you, your duties assigned. I won't waste precious time with redundancy. Important as this is, don't let the pressure get to you. Yes, this is the final push to conclude military operations on Vort for the Empire. Yes, this is the final VDF stronghold of resistance. Ignore all of that. This is another mission to us. Another task assigned. Another objective to be completed. Nothing more. Its completion will see both victory and, optimistically, us to never return for another operation behest of the Empire in an operational capacity. Our skills and experience will be better applied elsewhere at the conclusion of the Vort campaign."
A statement that held multiple meanings everyone present was more than aware of. The blue-eyed unit leader allowed all of this to settle in before speaking again.
"Everyone here knows what we're up against and what we will potentially face inside that barrier. Keep your wits about you. Remember your training. Rely on one another accordingly. We don't do things alone. We aren't Invaders. We're better than that." He cheekily commented, the smirk audible in his voice behind his visor.. "Sooner this is done, sooner we will be back on the ship in open space. No more sewers, no more monsoons, no more Tallum...no more Vort. Any questions?"
"Where's our snipers?" Rha asked after looking around at everyone, seeing none of them in sight. "They're not skipping out on us, are they?"
"That's a no, Cor-Sergeant," Corr answered, "they left last evening to get behind the lines, do recon, watch our landing zones. Lieutenant Kazak and Staff Sergeant Gers will cover the Commander's team, meanwhile Captain Mizak, First Sergeant Avak, and Sergeant First Class Zurrak will do the same for our team."
"I actually feel a little better that we get an extra sniper," Haxx said, only to get a look from Volx, silencing him from speaking further.
Corr paused briefly before continuing after the interruption, "Should anything go wrong, the snipers are our backup. In the event either of our teams be unable to fulfill our objective, they will do so in our stead. Granted, if that's the case, we have no overwatch available...it's a double edged sword."
"As per the plan discussed yesterday, yes," Vult reiterated with a nod of affirmation. "Any other questions?"
The tallest member of the team raised her hand.
"Yes, Aero, what is it?"
"Do you mean it? No more sewers?"
"Yes. No more sewers."
"Promise?"
"I can't promise things outside of my control."
"Oh…" She sighed, defeated as her antenna fell as equally as her tone did.
"...but if I have a say in it, no more sewers."
She perked right back up.
"Then let's get this show on the road, Sir!"
Several of the others responded in kind with cheers of excitement and eagerness.
"That's what I like to hear." Vult smirked, turning his attention back to the front of the craft. "Rem, seal us up and dust off. Time to go to work."
"You got it, Sir." She obeyed, the hydraulic whine of the rear bay door sounding as it lifted from the ground until magnetically locking into place.
Her augmented gaze darted around the shuttle's instrument panel as preparations were concluded and the engines throttled up, their whine becoming a low roar. The shuttle lurched from its resting place upon the landing pad, slowly rising in altitude.
"This is your pilot speaking. Today's forecast calls for a 5% chance of the following, but not limited to: flak, large-caliber automatic fire, guided munitions, and unguided munitions. It is recommended that you fasten your seatbelts and hold on to your c'hurtas. Thank you for choosing Air Rem today for all your low-altitude, high-risk insertion needs."
Grinning at her own facetious communications chatter, the Navigator locked in their first waypoint before throwing the throttle forward into full-burn. The dull roar snarled and the inertia inhibitors struggled to maintain equilibrium as the hovering shuttle blasted off for enemy-held territory.
Corr stood in his position, holding onto a hand hold as the shuttle accelerated. "Guess we'll see if this thing gets us through the phasic barrier or not."
"It will. Ohmantu was able to traverse through it with it. We should be able as well." Vult reasoned.
"That, or we'll become a plastered shade of green across its surface." Haxx commented, earning a sock to his shoulder from Aero. "Ow! The Irk was that for?!"
"Don't jinx us! It'll work."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Well...won't be much of a problem for us if it doesn't." Rem reasoned from the cockpit as the barrier in question fast approached. "At this speed, we won't feel a thing, let alone know what happened. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride."
"Keep the chatter to a minimum." Vult lightly chastised of them all. "Stay focused. We can cut up and celebrate later."
"Yes, Commander." Rem obliged, disciplining herself. "Barrier's in sight. Fast approaching, E.T.A. 30 seconds."
Corr took a breath and chuckled, earning him a strange look from Volx.
"Sir?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"What's so funny?"
"Just the thought on that if this doesn't work, the grand plan hinges on a mad sniper with a people issue and the head of Special Operations who can't reveal himself."
Even Volx couldn't help but crack a smirk, "Yeah, everyone's screwed."
Corr peered around the door between the cockpit and the back of the shuttle as the barrier approached. As expected, the shuttle passed right through, a good thing they didn't mess with the IFF. Their Armada transponder installed being turned off must have been another matter that got them through. "Well, that's a relief. Maybe we should check in on our advance teams?"
Haxx, whom had his eyes twisted shut in anticipation, heard this and breathed a sigh of relief. Turning as best he could in his harness, he looked out the nearest viewport to see relatively pristine city blocks and empty streets beneath them and the barrier's glow at their back.
"Huh...sorta expected some weird feeling going through it."
"Nope," Rem answered, keeping her wits about herself as she maneuvered the shuttle low and fast. No detection yet...even if the countless pings of VDF anti-aircraft filled her sensors between the prior recon efforts and active scanning. "IFF for the shuttle attunes a field around us to match the frequency of the barrier."
"...and you didn't say anything about this until now because…?" Haxx queried, indignant.
"Because it's funny watching you squirm."
"Rem, Haxx." Vult sternly addressed. "Radio silence. Now."
"Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir." The craft's pilot apologized, straightening up. "Red LZ closing fast."
Vult turned to his team at one side of the craft.
"You heard her. Harnesses off, on your feet."
"Spike to Red Lead, drop zone clear, no sign of enemy movement. Deadeye and I have overwatch. Clear to proceed, over."
"Good luck out there, Commander," Corr said to Vult as the other members of Red Team rose to their feet and stepped off their shuttle onto the rooftop of a skyscraper. "I'll pour the first round of drinks when we get back to our field HQ after all this is done."
The Commander oversaw his team's insertion. One after another, Aero, Vard, Hesa, and Sula departed the shuttle once the rear hatch fully lowered. Rem expertly maintained a level altitude in close proximity to the building while Red Team exited the craft. Stepping off, they all fanned out to take up perimeter defense per their drilled instruction and combat experience. No more banter. No more conversating. Just work.
Vult turned to his second-in-command with a nod, his artificial arm extended and hand open to the man.
"I'll hold you to it, Captain. Good luck and good hunting."
Corr extended his hand, gripping Vult's forearm. Antiquated, but one of the few true things that reconciled between the true Republican history that Calla told and the Empire's records. An old greeting among peers, especially warriors, of some of the older civilizations of Irk. "Thank you, sir."
With that, Vult was the last of Red Team to leave the shuttle. Stepping off of the lowered hatch and onto the rooftop, his rifle detached from his back and slung around to low-ready. A single digit of his left hand cued his radio.
"Purple-5, Red-1."
"Purple-5 reads, Red-1, over."
"Red team is clear, proceeding on-mission. Over."
"Understood, Red-1, proceeding on-task. Good luck and good hunting, Sir."
"Likewise, Purple-5. Over and out." Vult concluded, giving a visual wave off to Rem as the shuttle's ramp began closing up once more proper.
"Red team's away…" the Navigator commented to herself, throttling up and moving the flight stick to not douse Vult and the others with her turbine wash. "...en-route to LZ Purple."
"Hold on, Rem," Corr interjected as he made his way into the cockpit's vacant chair. He punched in a new set of coordinates for their altered landing zone. "I need you to put us in right there. High value intelligence we got word of."
Rem gave pause as her superior saw fit to alter their destination. The shuttle's instruments automatically plotted and planned the new flight path based on Corr's coordinates. Most definitely a deviation from what was discussed and planned.
"Uhh...Captain, not to risk insubordination, but that is outside of overwatch's range. Little deep behind enemy lines right now…" She cautiously broached, but nevertheless casually maneuvered the shuttle to take to the path provided.
"I know. This is important enough to risk the deviation." Corr replied as he quickly switched channels, "Purple Overwatch, status report."
"Cobalt, Smoke and Bolt have overwatch over Purple LZ. Still clear, no enemy movement, maintaining coverage, over." Zurrak responded over the radio
"Standby, new instructions coming your way.
Kazak watched the shuttle hover from his position in a CEO's office as Vult and the others made their exit and proceeded on mission. Despite the shattered glass on the floor from recent controlled demolitions, the office was in otherwise excellent shape. A plus from being behind the phasic barrier. "Spike, any movement?"
"Negative, dead silent."
"Bolt?"
"Nothing on our end either, Deadeye."
"Guess they got the civilians out in time, good for them." Kazak said to himself, "Bolt looks li-wait" Kazak watched the shuttle head off in a different direction. "The fuck are they going?" He said to himself off the radio
"Bolt, Purple One, change of LZ. Sending you coordinates. Need you to shift positions immediately and provide coverage."
"Purple One, Bolt, advising against changing LZ. Area proposed has not been confirmed cleared. I say again, advising against changing LZ. Even if we sprint our way there, we can't guarantee the area will be clear."
"Negative, Bolt, intelligence target in the area. We need to set down there. Change position." A bit of hesitation came from the other end. "How copy?"
"Good copy, Purple One. Changing position, out."
Corr, having since moved from the seat to check on the others, kept one hand on a hand hold in the shuttle ceiling as he poked his head through the cockpit door, "Okay Rem, our snipers are on the move. Get us there."
Comforting as it was to know they wouldn't without long-range coverage, deviating from what was discussed and planned so early on left a lot of questions unanswered. She wasn't in the business of questioning orders and thus far, hadn't a reason to. The Captain and the Commander had good heads on their shoulders and put most of the Armada's leadership to shame in the realm of competency.
Reaffirmed by that comfort, the Navigator committed to the change. Throttling up, the shuttle regained speed as she nimbly maneuvered in and out of the artificial canyons created by Tallum's massive superstructure skyscrapers.
A surreal experience to the foreign Irken. Save for the occasional bout of fractured windows or stray impact of shorted artillery and unguided munitions, the city was largely untouched by battle. Immaculate and serene in uncomfortable silence lacking all semblance of life. A sight of Vort prior to the Empire's unprovoked aggression. Most of all...the parallels to the likes of Irk could be drawn. A technologically-advanced people capable of faster-than-light travel carving out their existence in an impossibly large universe.