A new FOB had been created at the crossroads, the jungle around cleared by bulldozers, trenches and defense positions dug next to the river and all around the base. The Platoon rested for now, eyeing the jungle beyond the Wire with a hint of suspicion and a whole slew of hateful thoughts. Above them, two Wombat UCAVs flew, the drone of their engines echoing down toward the makeshift landing pad at which most of the crew was gathered.
One of the drones launched a missile. A guided missile, probably following either an IR signal or a laser that one of the FORCE RECON crazies was using to guide it in. Jake and Sarge were watching the missile as it vanished beyond the canopy, followed by the distant, dulled thump of a detonation and the aircraft banking gently to the right to adjust their courses.
They carried a multitude of ground attack munitions, from the looks of things. And they were also wading dead-on into the anti-air defenses of the enemy's own FOBs, barely over a dozen kilometers away from the UNSC's own. Jake hummed and pulled out Ayaan's dog-tags from one of the pouches on his armor. He clenched his fist around the pair of stamped sheet metal plates, a hint of fury playing in his heart as another distant, dull thump echoed. He pocketed them again, then asked Niura, "We got a new LT coming in, sarge?"
"Yeah," She replied with a nod, quietly tilting left and right to the soft notes of an acoustic guitar playing out of a radio. She flicked the butt of a finished cigarette into the mud, then said to Jake, "She should be coming in any moment with the next wave of Pelicans bringing in supply. Or that's what the Colonel told me when I went to ask him about replacements, anyways..." And she turned to Jake, "... I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, Niura," The guy sighed, "Ayaan got unlucky..."
"Fucking Feddies pulling out the old crap... Who's to say they won't start trying to gas us at some point, eh?" Niura had attempted to joke, but the growl in her voice made it come out way more hostile than it should have. Jake nodded, scratching his right cheek awkwardly. He looked at the fingerless gloves he wore and sighed, before the buzz of a giant mosquito caught his attention. As it landed on the left side of his neck, he slapped it, leaving a nasty red smear on his neck.
He wiped it away, then looked up as the thunder of the quad thruster package of the UNSC Pelicans roared. Dust clouds kicked up around the makeshift Landing Pads as the aircraft banked their noses up and extended their landing gears, only to touch down in the wet dirt, digging their paddles and the front-most wheel into the muck. One of the Pelicans carried a massive pod on its back that the Techs and the SeaBees immediately moved to detach and haul away with a Cyclops mech painted OD Green. It had better ground pressure control than a tank or a forklift, at least.
From the main Pelican, the one without the supply pod, a platoon of Marines disembarked. More FORCE RECON, going by the silenced rifles, the M99 Special Application Scoped Rifle, or M99 SASR, also known as the 'Stanchion' Mag Sniper, plus a bunch of other specialized equipment. Niura whistled, "Holy shit, Foxtrot Romeo's getting sent in with some of the new mass-prod toys..."
"Until Congress approves Spartan deployment, they're letting RECON test the new stuff," A female voice, gruff, but very familiar to the Marines, came from the Pelican. The two turned, eyes wide, only to see a young woman with hair that was dyed to be a more lucious variation of its natural color of black. It was short as military standard dictated, but accentuated the older woman's features quite well, her piercing blue eyes staring at the pair of Marines while her somewhat-thicker lips were curled into a smirk. "Niura. Jake. Been a while since Mombasa."
The duo saluted immediately, grinning proudly. Niura said, "Lieutenant, holy fuck."
"Good to see both of you," She chuckled. The name plate on her somewhat-customized green BDU read 'Jones, P.' and her blood type, O Positive, was visibly written on the shoulder pad. A First Lieutenant, by all accounts, but still stuck leading a platoon. She told them, "Take it old Mike kicked the bucket here. Command wasn't very forthcoming with info about what happened."
"Yeah," Jake replied, "Mortar round. Got both him and Ayaan..."
The woman's face morphed from joy to a hint of sadness, mixed with anger, her wrinkles showing. She sighed and said, "I'm sorry. Ayaan was a good guy. A bit too much of a ladiesman, but..." before shaking her head and bumping both of them in the shoulder with her fist. She hefted her BR55 onto her back, alongside her belongings, then told them, "Take me to the barracks so I can drop my shit off, then I'll go talk to the Colonel about our next job. I'd rather the squad still be active-duty for now..."
"Sure thing, boss. This way," Niura nodded.
As the group traversed the camp's grounds, they were met by the sight of soldiers carrying tripods and machine guns, AT launchers, AA systems and the likes around, as well as people driving Mongooses around, carrying equipment. Several Warthogs and Saddlebacks sat underneath tent covers, their muddy wheels being cleaned by a pair of local Engineers. The group entered the tent of the squad, which had actual wood floorboards, only to hear the sound of flip music on the radio.
The Lieutenant could only smile as she saw the dozen men, even through the gloom that permeated the place. Several orange lamps hanged above the beds, giving an odd tinge to the place. The Sergeant stepped forward and gave a whistle, to which every single man and woman of the Platoon turned toward them... And all of them paused, eyes shooting wide open.
"Holy shit... L-Lieutenant Parisa!?" Niko stammered.
Parisa smiled, pushing a strand of her dyed hair out of her eyes, before giving a nod in greeting and stating, "Good morning, Niko. Platoon..." only to watch the entire force scramble to their feet, snapping crisp salutes at the woman. She saluted back and said, "At ease! I'm just here to drop my shit off and then I'm gonna go get our next job from the Colonel," then noticed a slight sag in their shoulders. She told them, "I understand... I will miss Ayaan, too. But the only way to keep his memory going is to kick these shitheads off this rock and win this war, which is what should be on your minds. Let's honor our crazy bastard of an Arab by kicking ass and taking names, oorah?"
A short and sweet pep talk. It got to them, causing them to cry out, "Oorah!" thus getting another big smile from Parisa. She gave them a nod, a salute and gave them the all-clear to be at ease, before she stepped off toward the com tent. Niko approached them with Jane, with the latter telling the Sergeant, "I thought the El-tee retired a while back, after NM..."
"Guessin' she heard we're back in town and decided she'd have fun alongside us," Niura shrugged, smiling, "I fucking missed her."
"Heh. Aye, same here," Niko blushed, smiling. The entire platoon let out short laughs at that, some of them slapping the man upside the head, while Niura gave him a shake of the head, a grin on her face.
Come and go, before long, the platoon was out on their new mission:A jungle patrol. Advancing in a staggered row, the platoon kept weapons at the ready and eyes on the floor in case the Feds had decided to be funny and would pull one out of the Vietnam scrapbook. Or more, honestly. Nobody was looking forward to Punji sticks or tripwire-based traps in the thicket of a giant alien jungle.
"... So, Jake and this girl hit it off in Germany," Jane spoke, her voice low as she scanned the treeline from next to Parisa, both of them and the Sergeant in the middle of the formation, "They go off, do the deed I assume-" And she ducked to cover herself from a stone that Jake threw her way, before continuing, "Several months before this shit with the Feds starts and they keep a relationship going. Bitch winds up sending him a 'Dear John' while we're on Planet V still."
"What a cunt," Parisa snorted, BR55 shouldered as she scanned the treeline. Several agreeing murmurs came from across the Platoon's ranks as they moved, with Junttila and Heikkala(the two people of the whole platoon who didn't know Parisa) bringing up the rear as AT Gunner and Sniper, respectively. As previous, they mostly stayed out of talking with people, sans if any dropped back to talk to them.
"You're telling me," Jake murmured, "Also, Jane..." And he glared at his childhood friend.
"Figured Boss should be caught up," Quipped the Corpsman, eyes darting from one shrub to another and to the floor, the fallen leaves crunching against their boots, which sometimes went and sank in mud up to the middle of the calf. She swore to herself as that happened to her, before pulling her leg out. Beside her, Niura kept her M45 Shotgun steady, aimed the way opposite Jane was covering.
Jake was in front, obviously, carrying the AR with the Grenade Launcher meant the mad motherfucker was the one who was gonna shoot during First Contact. He boosted the power of his motion tracker twice, to about 400 meters out. Pinprick dots appeared on his HUD, most golden. Dozens of Marines moving, fanned out across all 400 meters in platoon-sized groups. The other teams that'd been sent to patrol the AO and wipe out any possible local MI or Militia troops.
Jake raised a balled fist and the entire advance halted on their side, platoon-mates tensing, safeties clicking to full auto. He looked left and right at the platoons around them. The men and women of their partaking platoons merged with the green foliage, courtesy of their BDUs and Armors, so Jake figured he'd know friendlies. He squinted, a silhouette in the much farther ahead catching his attention. His Motion Tracker caught the movement, pinged it grey for 'unknown'.
He gave another quick hand signal, a chop of his hand to the left. The Marines dispersed into the jungle, separating from each-other by five meters at least, so that enemy grenades didn't hit them. Jake aimed his rifle at the silhouette as it appeared again, pinged grey by the MT. He radioed, voice low, "JULIET-1 to all elements... We got possible Mikes in the Wire... Firing warning shot..."
He shifted his position behind the thickest palm tree trunk he found, aimed at the figure, then aimed a centimeter above and fired one shot. The figure yelped, voice audibly female, before scrambling back into cover. First, one second passed, the Marines waiting for the reaction fire. Then, as the next passed, inaccurate bursts of fire from a Morita started, the sharp snap of a bullet whizzing right past Jake's ear almost sending the boy's heart out of his chest. He cried out over com, "CONTACT!"
... And next, his launcher thumped.
A 40mm grenade struck dead-center into the tree from behind which the muzzle flash was coming. Spall and splinter and smoke, followed by a corpse thumping against the floor... Then the thunderous fire of a dozen more Moritas all around them. The bastards popped up out of the shrubs, opening up on the platoons with automatic fire from so close, the Marines swore those were their own friendlies firing on them.
The UNSC quickly reorganized themselves, though, and the sporadic and inaccurate assault weapon fire was met by Snipers, assault rifles and battle rifles. A pair of marines focused fire on a single man, their automatic bursts tearing through the thin armor he wore for protection. He collapsed onto the floor, blood painting the green of the forest a deciduous shade of scarlet.
Parisa was quick on the job, taking command of the platoons. Her hand signals were rapid-fire, focused. Direct follow-up orders. 'Regroup', 'assess', 'assault', 'DESTROY'. The Marines in the Platoon and even the two new recruits took this to heart. Forming the wedge which they'd drive into the enemy ambush, JULIET-1 pushed forth through the thicket. Bullets pinged off the advanced body-armor of the Marines, causing them to twitch off target due to the kinetic energy.
Their sister platoons advanced as well, though behind them in terms of speed. Parisa's gaze was steel, her face impassive. She aimed through the scope of her rifle and bursts of accurate fire struck the enemy like hammer blows. She aimed, shot a man and blasted his helmet clean off his head, then shifted her aim and switched to semi, finding the burst-fire a bit too annoying, before putting another through the skull of another enemy. This one was a militiaman who wore only a cap. It, too, flew off along with a chunk of her scalp.
She took a moment to note something even under the adrenaline of combat:The enemy was pulling back, leapfrogging slowly. She narrowed her eyes, then balled her fist to show the platoon to halt. They did. She radioed in, "All JULIET Elements, cease advance, engage at long range..." before waving Junttila forward. The rocketeer stepped up and nodded to the Lieutenant, who stated, "Let's see how well you picked up on Jakey's training... Why would the enemy be retreating, corporal?"
"Ma'am..." Junttila took a moment to think, then furrowed her brows, "Either they've set up a larger ambush farther ahead and are drawing us in, or... The traps we've been hearing about are close enough for them to consider it tactically sound to leapfrog the way they are. Draw us in and let loose a Fougasee, or maybe blow up half the Jungle with us in it... or God knows what else."
"Good girl," Parisa smirked, "These numbskulls taught you all well..."
Niura quipped, "Cuz our own El-Tee drilled this shit into our skulls from her time fighting Innies on her home planet."
"Heh. Aye," She nodded. A twinge of melancholy seemed to appear in her eyes, but vanished as soon as it did. She told Niura, "Take half the platoon go hard left, flank. Tell your sweepers to look out for traps. We'll keep baiting the bastards into thinking we're falling for it. Make it quick so they don't see you..." before radioing in, "JULIET-1-9 and all Machine Gun elements, form a section, suppress. Flanking teams will hit the enemy as they're leapfrogging. Be on the lookout for VC or Kosi-style fucking traps from the Rainforest Wars..."
Niura gave a nod, then called out, "Jake, Jane, Heikkala, on me. Heikkala, you'll be overwatch when we set up to advance. Let's move it out!" to which the trio requested stood up and rushed her way. The thunder of LMGs letting loose filled the air, the return fire erratic and inaccurate as the hitsquads made of four Marines each dispersed into the trees. Jake had nearly triggered a trip wire, but was lucky enough to see the Grenade bouquet. He'd disarmed it.
A couple more hops and skips over punji pits and a bunch of more fucked-up traps had them on the flank of the enemy advance. Heikkala quickly ran, climbing onto a tree and into its canopy before shouldering her rifle and leaning it against a thicker branch. She activated thermals and said, "Yep, I'm seein' about three, maybe four platoons' strength in the forest, waiting to spring up. Classic L-shaped ambush position..."
"Wish we had Juni with us," Jake murmured as he loaded a 'Three-Strike' grenade. 'Three-Strike' was one hell of a weird launchable for the UNSC's grenadier corps. A longer brass tube contained an electric ignition system with a delay, as well as three separate 40mm grenades, split apart by specialized separators. One grenade would launch and take its separator with it, then the other, then the last in a three-round burst of HE that would make a Mark-19 of the olden days blush.
Three flashes and detonations, the pressure of the air growing exponentially for a good moment. The rapport of the sniper echoed, bouncing off the trees and canopy. The contrail of the bullet dissipated as fast as it had struck, taking two enemy soldiers with one shot. Follow-up was the launcher that Junttila was carrying going off, a thundering thermobaric blast shaking the entire area like an earthquake.
The Marine flanking units pincered the enemy, Jake, Niura and Jane advancing while Heikkala took potshots at the enemy with her rifle, or outright nailed them. The rumble of quad 40mm cannons filled the air as a Sun Devil also rolled in, skirting the treeline and laying into the enemy's position while making sure it wasn't lighting up an allied unit. Jake pushed forward with Jane, the latter's battle rifle on single shot and thundering every three to four seconds as the girl zeroed in another enemy unit.
A bullet rang past Jake's ear again, followed up by a snap-pop and his ears ringing as his neck snapped back. He fell to the floor, concussed by the hit, before pulling his helmet off his head and looking at the damage. His helmet's angled top plate took the brunt of a 7,62mm round from a Morita. He was alive, but his ears still rang like a frag grenade went off right next to his head.
Jane didn't waste any time, dragging him into cover as the rest of the platoon advanced. He shook his head to clear the concussion, then murmured, "Thank fuck their rounds aren't designed to pen our BDUs..." before strapping the helmet back onto his head and utilizing the cover of the thick tree beside him to lob another grenade from his launcher as the trees ahead of the advancing platoons exploded with 40mm fire.
He shook his head again, feeling the ringing subside, before he elbowed Jane in the thigh and told her, "I'm good!"
"Thank fuck you got a thick skull," She murmured, then popped off another round. She grinned at him and patted him on the chest as he scrambled to his feet, the two utilizign the same tree for cover as the fired at the Mobile Infantry unit ahead. One MI man charged headlong toward them, bayonet affixed to his rifle. Not a word came out of his mouth, not a hint of fear, so much so that the UNSC Marines stared dumbfound at him for a good five seconds.
Parisa, however, was not.
She met the man head on, drawing her own combat knife and parrying his bayonet's first thrust, before she displayed impressive mobility by delivering a high kick straight to the bastard's jaw, sending him tumbling to the floor. She jumped onto him, pinning his rifle to his body and bringing her knife down upon his throat. He narrowly managed to stop it from hitting its mark by crossing his arms in front. He growled at the woman as the rest of his troops engaged up-close.
Niura's shotgun thundered, the reply being the enemy's own under-barrel ones. Pellets struck UNSC armor, the reply being flechettes from an eight-gauge shotgun that fired a large enough round to make God think twice about scoffing at it. She looked at her Lieutenant, who waved her off as she wrestled the enemy officer. Jake beside her also let loose with his rifle toward the enemy, gunning down several of the MI's charging soldiers.
The MI officer that Parisa wrestled headbutted her, sending her staggering back and off of him. He stood to his feet and aimed his rifle, but the girl did some more footwork and kicked the weapon out of his hands. He stood to his feet and drew his sidearm, which the woman quickly relieved him of, only to nearly get punched in the face. She did, in fact, get socked, but it was way less worse than one would've expected, since she moved with the punch and took it.
She shifted on her feet and thrust her knife hand forward, but the man caught and deflected it, trying yet again to deliver a punch. She was quicker, however, returning his headbutt with a full-on forehead-to-mouth strike that broke a few teeth, an audible crackle and pop of the dentures filling her ears as combat continued around them. She saw the man charge, trying to grab the blade out of her hand, only to be met by an elbow to the nose and a slash at the armor on his stomach, which connected, but did no damage, obviously.
The woman then feinted a punch to the left, which the man hurried to block, opening his right. She spun the knife around in her hand and slammed the blunt handle into his jaw again, causing him to groan in pain. She then turned the knife around again, grabbed the man by the throat and swept his feet. She climbed on top of him and, with one quick slash, she stabbed the blade into the side of his throat.
Hearing a battle cry from a young woman, Parisa drew her pistol, aimed it and popped off a shot. The bullet pierced the girl's skull and flung her helmet off her head, the corpse collapsing with a quiet thump. She retrieved her knife from the officer corpse's throat and wiped the blade off on the dead man's clothes, before sheathing it, holstering her pistol and drawing her rifle. She radioed, "Command, this is JULIET. We've made contact with and eliminated an enemy Ambush. Proceeding on foot to checkpoint LIMA and requesting armored support and defoliants immediately North of Checkpoint Tango..." before she gave a chop of her hand forward.
The platoons rejoined formation and continued advancing, leaving behind the corpses of dead Mobile Infantry to be policed. Jake, meanwhile, admired the craftsmanship of a Morita bayonet as they walked, stating, "They really pulled a fucking Banzai charge on us. This ain't the Rainforests, nor 'Nam anymore. They're straight-up going IJA on us at this point."
"Officer was missing the Katana though," Junttila quipped, grinning. A few chuckles were the reply.
"Give it some time and I'm sure they'll bring in the Katanas, Junttila," Parisa quipped, "Which should be fun, since apparently the Elites are in for the scuffle here."
"The Hinge-Jaws wanna join us? Really?" Jake asked. A nod from Parisa told him that, well, that was bound to stir a few people back at home. Namely, Sapien Sunrise and its little Human Supremacist views. Since this was human-on-human, they were being quiet, but when the Sangheili joined in, that might stir awake some nasty feelings from the bastards. Like it usually did for extremist groups like that. Sure, not like it was abnormal, like Jake had thought to himself before, but still, one would think any normal being would appreciate the backup of a more advanced alien species in a war to end it quick.
Eh, whatever...