Dark Shadow's Fall
Chapter 3
Wendingo
Atreus System
September 4 3035
The Dark Shadow's old but comfortable lounge area had been requisitioned for the day. Several times, the occupants of the room had to turn away surprised and grumbling junior enlisted members who had hoped to use the game tables or open bar. What was going on today took far more precedence than their entertainment. Eventually, a couple of infantry men were posted in front to prevent further interruptions and one look at their serious faces sent anyone not invited packing. The occupants were just returning from a quick bathroom and smoke break, ready to continue the briefing and planning sessions. Capt Maersk leaned back in his seat at the head of poker table and glanced at the seven other individuals that constituted the core leadership of Specter Company, his company. His second in command and leader of Banshee Lance, 1st Lt Sharon Hotomori was just coming in, right behind SSgt Warson and laughing at something the enlisted man said. Maersk just heard the tail end of the conversation as they filtered in.
"No seriously Lieutenant, you CAN fit an elephant inside a Frugal-Way shopping bag."
"Alright Staff, how do you fit an elephant inside a shopping bag?" The young woman was chuckling already, knowing there was a set-up but not sure where".
"Well, first you got to take the 'F' out of Frugal, and then the 'F' out of Way". Warson kept his face deadpanned the entire time, calmly looking at the grinning lieutenant. Her almond colored skin wrinkled around her eyes for a moment in mock confusion.
"But there's no 'F' in Way-"
"Exactly". Warson's stoic face finally broke into a grin as they both sat down, the Lieutenant sitting down next to him and rolling her eyes at the corny joke. It was actually a rare talent of Hotomori, getting even normally stoic individuals to open up, and part of the reason Maersk valued her support as his XO. Warson wasn't normally a subdued man, but he had become quieter, almost brooding since his last drop. Maersk hoped that Hotomori would continue to open the man back up.
The rest of the staff came into the room, some heading to the bar and grabbing another beer, others sitting right down. The beer drinkers showed no shame in cracking open before noon, and non of their companions blinked an eye. Dark Shadows lived by the simple philosophy of to each their own until it came time to fight-then every man was expected to have his butt in gear. The last man to enter was 1st Sgt Charlie Rangel, the company 1st Sgt and highest enlisted man in Specter Co. He gave Capt. Maersk a nod, signifying that all of the required personnel were in attendance.
Maersk stood up, looking over the individuals attending. In addition to the four Mechwarriors, the rest of the individuals present were just as critical to the company and its ability to wage war. Most folks with just a minimal understanding of war knew that a Mech lance had four pilots, but what most didn't think about was all of the support that those pilots relied on to do their jobs. Each Mech had a Tech assigned, with two additional astechs. The head of the 36 technicians for Specter Company was a stout, dark haired Lieutenant named Karen Sanders. Lt Sanders had a stern, almost disapproving demeanor, but knew her troops inside and out and their Mechs even better. She was actually the oldest person in the entire company, and could have retired if she hadn't accepted her commission, but as she had told Maersk once "These Mechs are the closest thing to kids I've ever had, I aint gonna make em orphans now".
The other officer in the room was Lt Marsden, the head of the infantry platoon attached to the Specters. He was the first man to grab a beer and sat down next to his senior enlisted, Sergeant First Class Canters. The two men eased back, gregarious and cynical as only grunts could be. Maersk decided it was time to get to business. "Alright folks, we all saw the same intel brief yesterday. We all understand what Captain General Duncan wants us to do. Its been a rough half year, but now we got a mission, and that mission is Shiro III. In one months time, the Atrean Dragoons are going to be hitting that planet and hitting it hard. This is not a feint, raid or probe, its the full shabang. But before they land, we're going to prep it for them. Any questions so far?"
"Yeah, what the hells a 'shabang'? Marsden smirked to polite laughter and winked at Maersk. Maersk simply rolled his eyes and pressed on.
"Three days before they land, we are going to start hitting several sites on the planet that should force the defenders to spread themselves out and wear them down. If you look at your packets that the Intel bubbas dropped off, you'll see a list of objectives. This is Spec Ops 101 folks-we'll hit what the enemy dosnt need, but what he cant leave undefended".
As the warriors and their support looked over the list and the map, they all took in what the Captain said. Warson frowed a little at the target list. None of the targets would violate the Ares Conventions, but there were some that were skirting them. Objective 03A was case in point. A power relay inside a small town on the central continent of Shiro. While hitting the hydro-electrical dam that fed the power relay would be a war crime, this power relay did not have any "Lostech" that humanity was slowly losing due to war. More importantly, it happened to provide power for half of the continents Air to Air radar towers. The fact that the town, hospitals and everything else in the immediate area also relied on the power station was just icing on the cake. The Andurians would have to put personnel and resources towards preventing riots, taking care of at risk citizens and running secondary power sources for their defenses-all things that would make the Dragoons attack that much easier in the long run.
Lt Sanders raised her hand, halting Maerk from continuing."Hmm, some of these objectives are spread out pretty well...normally for these sort of ops, we try to give you boys a central facility to run repairs." Lt Sandors frowned at the map, considering how to solve her own identified puzzle. " We cant do that for this one Sir, not without living boys making runs on the distance targets to far away to get a quick repair and refit."
Maersk smiled at the seasoned tech. This was one of the reasons why the Dark Shadows included support personnel in these sort of briefings. Many conventional units would make their plans and leave it up to the 'beans and bandages' crews to figure it out. The Shadows however knew that a Lance lived or died by its support.
"Thanks for bringing that up Lt. I was thinking along the same lines. Normally, we like to work in a spider web pattern to keep the enemy guessing about where we are hitting next. If we worked a half clock pattern, say twelve to six clockwise before going twelve to six counter-clockwise, could you guys move your support location?"
"We would be exposed briefly while in transit, but yes Sir, that could work..."Sanders paused for a minute to deliberate internally. The woman never hurried in though when it came to her job. Some thought it was because she was simple minded, but those folks were typically fools. She was a simple woman in lifestyle, but she thought about the various ins and outs of her job in ways that would tie most peoples' brains in knots. "Actually, long term, that exposes us less than constantly having to move to repair damaged mechs, which we all know would happen anyways...I'll get with you later and we'll pre-plan staging points."
"GTG Chief" Maersk nodded, using the lead Tech's common nickname. "Now, on to the next point-primary objectives vice secondary. For sake of this job, I think quantity has a quality all of its own. We should get the Andurians more flustered by hitting multiple locations with a moderate amount of damage than we would get hitting a few targets with significant damage-any dissenters to that"?As the meeting wore on into the afternoon, every member had his or her say. Plans and counter-plans were thrown back and forth, as were japes, insults and innuendos. Beers were downed, and minds stretched. All in all a normal planning session for Specter Company.
Shiro III, Andurian
October 3, 3035
1930 Hrs.
The sky above Shiro's central continent was its usual clear self this time of year. The rugged, heavily forested hills and valleys that filled up the country side provided a clear view of the night sky. A casual stargazer would have seen the usual constellations that filled up his sky. The curving set of stars that made up the Scimitar. The comforting, never moving, off-centered 'X' , known as the Archer, that was the friend of nocturnal travels ever since man stepped foot on this planet also stood in his usual place in the heavens. At this time of year, night fell early, but it was still warm enough that anyone who cared could have watch the sky well into the evening. This night, just briefly, there was a new constellation.
Three new stars lit up the heavens, growing brighter in the darkness. Just as soon as they appeared, what looked like four smaller stars sprouted forth, falling quicker than the rest. Anyone who was used to the centuries of continuous warfare would quickly have realized that those stars were not celestial visitors from the night sky. Rather than stars, these were shadows, and they were heralds of war. Warson quickly clutched his gyroscope controls in, bringing his plunging Grasshopper to an upright position. Reaper lance was coming in hot, ready to defend the rest of Specter Company's drop zone. Firing off his jump jets at the last 200 meters, his mech came to a heavy, but acceptable landing. Quickly scanning his immediate surroundings, Warson flexed his jaw, opening up his mic to the rest of his lance. "Reapers, report"
"Reaper Actual, this is Reaper 2, landing complete and sector secured," Polls's voice floated into Warson's speakers. Warson's callsign was 'Actual' as the head of the lance, the rest of the members were Reapers 2-4. The other members of the team likewise radioed their successful landing and lack of enemy presence in their zones of control. "Alright Reapers, follow on forces landing in ten minutes. You know your patrol points. Push out 500 meters and report in findings." As the rest of the lance rogered up, Warson pushed his mech forward. As the lance with the lightest net weight and fastest machines, Reaper lance was typically assigned reconnaissance duty. The two Hermes IIs and locust were tailor made for it, and his Grasshopper could be surprisingly quick with its four jump jets. If there was a threat, the Reapers would find it before Banshee or Reaper Lance had to deal with it. Interstellar war was a peculiar thing. Unless it was a key world, few planets had the in depth radar facilities to track a few dropships landing in a random location. While it was almost certain the Andurians knew the Dark Shadows had arrived inside the system, it was doubtful they knew precisely where they had landed. Even more, the defenders instruments most likely gave an estimate for the force that was now invading their world, but there was no way to know exacts. Either way, Reaper lance would make sure any potential defender wouldn't get the first shot on the raid force.
Sergeant Polls moved his Hermes II forward through the dense trees surrounding the clearing that was soon to be filled with dropships. He was piloting by instrument and feel as much as by what he viewed outside his cockpit. Everywhere he scanned, his left hand flamer followed, a much more potent weapon in these close in quarters than his chest mounted autocannon could be. The Hermes II was a robust, heavy scout mech, tailor made for this sort of operation. Few things could hide from his Wasat Aggressor targeting computer and whatever he found, short of a heavier Mech, he could quickly dispatch. If he did run into something bigger, he could quickly get away and meet up with the rest of the Reapers. The landing zone was divied up into a four-way circle, each of the Reaper Mechs covering a quarter. Polls was moving east, scanning roughly five to six oclock. Warson was directly behind him, leaving Cerillios to his right and Emersol to his left. As the four mechs searched for any possible threat, they maintained clipped, focused reports.
"Reaper 3 here", the light voice of Cerillios broke open over the com system. " There's no good trails here, that must have changed since the last satellite pic. Anything smaller than Reaper 4 is gonna get stuck pretty bad".
Warson's voice came through, the man's deep, tobacco-scarred voice a stark contrast to Cerillios's lighter tone. "Roger Reaper 3, keep scanning, there's still enough cover there that PBI or scout Mechs could get the drop on us."
As the loyalist Andurian reached the limit of his patrol route, he crouched his Mech down, lowering its 40-ton body effortlessly to the loamy soil as he settled his machine, the night sky grew increasingly bright behind him. The Specters had landed, unopposed and ready to move. It would take almost a half hour for the other 8 mechs, the 2 APCs and light tanks of the infantry, and the 4 vehicles of the support platoon to disembark and be ready to move. The Reapers would stay in their positions, being sure to prevent any surprises.
As he waited, Polls absentmindedly fingered with the small cloth bag around his neck. Inside were various tokens he collected over the years. It was a tradition from his homeworld and a tradition common to Andurians. Outsiders might question how the special force battalion would trust a man from the renegade duchy, but they would be quickly corrected. Not by Polls himself, he seldom felt the need to defend himself, but by the rest of Specter Company. A sharp word, or more rarely a sharp hook would shut down anyone who thought they could question the loyalty of the small, quiet man.
Captain Maersk looked out from the cockpit of his Marauder-M varient. THe hulking, crab like 75-ton monster carried two Particle Cannons mounted above a medium laser in each arm. Above the elongated torso of his mech, his large laser swept left to right and back. Banshee Lance was moving out to the south, with the matching pairs of Maxim and Harasser hovertanks of Ghost Platoon followed. Specter Lance was going to take up the rear of the formation, moving to their first relay point 50 Klicks away.
The support Platoon with their support vehicles and two gun trucks would stay with the dropship, ready to respond when the need came. In the meanwhile, the soldiers of the platoon were helping the dropship crews camouflage the four vessels that brought them here. The Leopard and one Fury Class Dropships had excellent firepower, but they were sitting ducks to a potential Aerospace attack. Hopefully, they would last the next three days without being detected. "Alright Banshee Actual, keep it to 40 klicks and keep a 1 klick distance from the flankers".
"Roger Specter, if they let anything through, whatever comes by wont be happy". Hatomori moved her lance forward, taking the lead in her Wolverine. The rest of her lance followed, a Hunchback, Shadow Hawk and Ostroc moving in a staggered formation. It was a lot of firepower, and more than enough backup for Reaper Lance, still conducting a patrol around the rest of the unit. It would be a long hard night of movement to their first relay point, but in the morning, the company would be in position to hit their first set of targets. The defenders wouldnt see it coming and the Specters struck, they would strike hard and fade away quicker then the Andurians could respond. Maersk would have prefered striking at Capellans, Lyrans or anyone other than fellow Free World Leaguers, but Andurian had made its choice. IT chose war, and the Dark Shadows were going to be the deliverers of its punishments.
Hey Folks, thanks again for reading this. I know the last two chapters were slow, but fear not, the next update will have all the Mech sized destruction you could ask for. I wanted to get this chapter out quickly so I could focus on staging the next battle, so I hope you enjoyed. Again, please shoot me some feedback. What you like, what you dont, its all good. Even if your only input is "Hey dude, not bad".