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Prolouge: Malborough Pile
There was the distant chime of a proximity alert as the Percheron swooped low, following the line of smog cloaked navigation beacons. Lieutenant Frank Jones knew that there was a corridor for error the width of maybe half his ship, probably a little more if he was lucky. He was flying through restricted airspace, and deviating from his plotted course would cause concealed defence batteries to reduce him and his cargo to little more than a momentary flare of light in the dim Leeds dawn.
He put an announcement through on the tannoy. They had a little under two minutes before landing, when they should arrive at Malborough Pile, probably one of the most important structures on, and under, the planet's surface. His cargo was a portion of the 16th London Grenadier Guards, who had been relocated from their barracks on Planet New London as a part of the planetary defence force who were already bracing to repel Kusari invaders.
Below the ship, the fog parted for a moment, revealing the blackened surface of a tarnished spaceport, seemingly another facility abandoned in the sprawling deserts of the Industrial Wastes. Lieutenant Jones had been briefed on this and engaged several small burners which would guide him down to the surface. Alighting on the pitted and corroded metal, well concealed Grav-Boosters embraced the ship, causing it to hang over the deck like a tethered balloon.
A crack appeared in the sensor-dampened matt surface of the exterior armour, light spilling out from within. Slowly the cargo bay door ground open in a squeal of pneumatics and grinding gears, allowing the filthy air to roll inside. There was a moment of calm, as the mist was buffeted by cooling engines. The silence was shattered by the bark of loud-speaker amplified orders, and the sudden sound of a company of men shuffling to disembark.
Section by section, the men of the Bretonian Royal Army marched off their drop ship, led by their Officers and NCOs. The visors to their inhumanly indifferent gas masks and the metallic components to their enveloping Biohazard armour caught the few weak rays of sunlight that struggled through the smog. Military Percherons had been moving all over the planet for weeks now, transferring troops, munitions, vehicles.
The Bretonian Army was mobilising, prepared to sell their lives should the admiralty fall short. War on Leeds was bound to be squalid, toxic, miserable and if the fighting men of Leeds had anything to do with it, very, very permanent.
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Part I: Green Gas
Quote:Personal Log: Luke Nole Authorisation: Captain
A and B Coy have been settling in at Malborough fairly well. We've had units assigned as sentries to manually check the defence batteries are still in working order. Beyond that, we're on point with eyes-on perimeter patrols. We've been assigned our billets, mess halls and recreational areas too, so most of the lads are fairly happy. Of course there's no denying there have been a few disciplinary problems over the last few weeks - a few minor charges for fighting. All stuff we've been able to deal with inside the unit. No need for the RMPs to get involved yet.
So far morale is mostly good. The biggest problem we've had so far is suppressing rumours about the nature of the work that is conducted here at the facility. The media has always treated the place as Bretonia's Zone 21. Colonel Lewis informed myself and the rest of the Officer cadre that there is a gag order placed on the facility. It's politically invisible. The briefing basically outlined the need to keep the men in their allocated areas, and how deviation from those areas would not be tolerated. I've had the men under my command on extra weapons drills and Hazmat training, because after all, a man who is busy is a man who isn't wandering around in places he shouldn't be. Personally I don't care what goes on here, so long as they're developing technologies that can help keep the men under my charge alive for longer and capable of conducting more lethal attacks in battlefield conditions.
Besides, if the Kusari manage an atmospheric landing, well need to be available to fight in the most toxic conditions the area around the Pile can offer, which I can say is fairly horrific ground. Sure, we'll be used to it soon, but god help any poor wretch who tries to attack this place without some fairly impressive hazard suits. If the defences don't get them, the radiation, acid pools and toxic air surely will...
Quote:...Of course, there is some question as to whether the Kusari will actually attempt to take the world...If they do, its going to turn into a hell hole incredibly fast. You all know what its like out there for a man with a cracked seal...Nearly every hit will be fatal or debilitating. Those nancy's from London aren't going to be used to the suits, they're going to make mistakes. Thats why we're spreading you all throughout their squads, to nanny them like the virgins they are. Their suits are generally brand new, not worn in at all. That'll end up causing problems, too. You all know what its like, moving in a fresh suit. Add to that the thought that your entire regiment has the same problem, and then imagine you've never worn suits before this month...Its not going to be fun. Your assignments are under your chairs. Get the Londoners used to the suits. Make them sleep in them if necessary. Dismissed.
Fallback Procedures:
Quote:...The habitable zones have been divided into three group: Black, Yellow, and Dense. Each Zone has a different retreat procedure. We'll start with Dense Zones. You all know where the dense zones are. The Habitation towers and Colony Domes, where our children and wives and brothers and sisters, parents and grandparents are. These are where we're most interested in preserving life. We display overwhelming force in those areas, or we retreat. We do not engage in seige behaviors, we surrender these zones to the Kusari. They're obligated to treat the civilians as noncoms and with all due respect. Anything else, and the BAF will start delivering MOX bombs to Kusari cities. They know this, and our analysts believe, strongly, that they're going to abide by conventions. Yellow Zones are the Industrial centers. They're to be vented, room by room, as the enemy advances. Artillery and plasma weapons are already being entrenched there. The power systems already in place will allow us to produce withering blasts nearly indefinitely. Capture of the installations will have to be done by small arms fire, or they'll have captured empty ground. Use your own discretion for abandoning these positions, the arms installations wont be reversible without a strong corps of engineers and a great deal of time. Black Zones are last line of defense areas. The toxic outback and Marlborough Core. The Core surrounds the Starport, and is heavily fortified. If we lose the port, we lose the planet, that simple. We expect squads from the Yellow Zones to be forced into the Toxic outback as the yellow are overrun. Those squads are to adopt guerrilla 2 and 5 procedures. We expect the Dense zones to fall early, and to put a large humanitarian strain on the enemy, as they're right now being supplied by DirectDemand shipments from the starport, leaving us the strongpoint of the starport and the major fighting in the Yellow zones...
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Sterile corridor after corridor stretched away into the distance. The Pile consisted of several subterranean tiers, each an expanding web of passages, halls and cells. The Grenadiers were stationed on the highest tier, just below the surface, on top of which was Malborough Core and the concealed Starport that supplied the base and moved personnel in and out.
Captain Nole was now marching down one of the many bland passages with an accompanying guard consisting of RSM Green and two other Grenadiers. The briefing he had just received from Colonel Lewis was weighing heavily on his mind. Whitehall had made provisions for a Kusari landing on the planet prudent, yes, but he still found it disturbing to think that the Navy would fail to hold the invaders at bay. After a short while they emerged into a far less oppressive, more open space which was filled with the clatter of cutlery and the general aroma of food.
There was the scraping of a chair, followed by the bark of the room NCO. Room! Roo-oom shun! A Sergeant who had noticed Noles arrival called the room to attention and snapped off a brisk salute. Nole returned the compliment.
Thank you Sergeant. At ease. The sergeant nodded and returned the rooms occupants to their prior state. Nole almost laughed at the sight of fifty men attempting to eat as fast as they could, but respectfully, due to the fact that they were in the presence of their CO.
After a few moments chatting with some of the men unfortunate enough to be nearby, about how they were finding the deployment and how they felt about the prospect of fighting for their House, the party moved on.
The actual reason the Captain was out was because he was meeting with A Platoon to aid with a patrol. Nothing was expected to happen the Kusari were still in Tau 31 at any rate. This would just be a stunt for the men to raise moral. His time at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst had taught him the merits of leading by example, a sentiment that he had not left in the classroom.
Native guide for the Londoner defense supplement. Not sure how I feel about that, then. It won't be like Harris. Hopefuly. Damn. Mentioned Harris. Have to burn this, now.
Sergeant Gadriel Alison switched off the radio and crawled out of his hole. A Leeds Active Reconnaissance Armour and Environment Unit barely resembles a man. A six foot man stands half a meter off the ground, leaning slightly forward, supported by the pressure hooks and gimbals inside the suit. Below his legs, the Laraeu's legs swing forward, spreading to four talons. Inside, the man walks backward, swinging his legs up as the chickenwalkers extend forward. One foot down, another extending forward, the Laraeu bounces and darts from side to side.
Supported upon gimbals, balanced by a pair of gyros, a pod holds a human pilot, and mounts for lasers, missiles, and a few ballistics, the Rhienland built, Cambridge designed scout quickly jounced across the surface, headed home, or at least toward base.
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Nole was ready to hit the surface. Hed donned his Hazard suit and been issued his rifle, the SA-90 A2 GP Rifle workhorse of the Bretonian Royal Army. After checking that all functions were green he stepped out and proceeded to one of the cargo lifts that had been built into the facility for convenience of moving goods and large numbers of personnel up and down from the first level. Both sections were awaiting him there.
Good evening Sir. I trust youre ready to move? That was Corporal Andrews, leader of 1 Section, A Platoon. That put him at the tip of the spear. Leader of the second section, Corporal Mills stood at his side.
Indeed we are Corporal. This will be a standard patrol gentleman well be following the route as laid out by Pile HQ, understood? Both men nodded and stepped back, ready to brief their teams.
The route would lead around a segment of the perimeter, an attached Pile technician checking the defences of each part as they encountered each defence battery. The total patrol distance would equate to just over 3 miles. The signaller voxed to the lift control room, causing the platform to rise, carrying its cargo of 20 soldiers steadily upwards.
***
The view out of the masks visor was grainy, obscured by the swirling smog and dirt. There was a perpetual twilight in this part of the Wastes, which cast odd shadows and played tricks on the eyes. Noles flicked through various overlays thermal then light amplification. Neither had any positive effect, the thermal particularly coming out as a scrambled mess.
He checked the safety catch on his rifle was on, then ordered the two sections to move on, each spaced a irregular distance from the other. After several minutes, the technician indicated theyd reached the first battery. He slipped through the doorway of what appeared to be an abandoned building to check the working parts of the anti-air missiles that it contained.
There were a few minutes of silence as soldiers warily watched the swirling mists around them. Then there was an urgent beeping from Noles communicator. It was from Pile HQ...
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Nole was using one of the ruins as a temporary shelter with the majority of his platoon covering arks of fire around it. The report Signaller Johnson had the misfortune of receiving from HQ was increasingly grim. There had been a rush on the Leeds gate, and Kusari forces had broken through. The onslaught into the Leeds system had begun.
Johnson's radio set chirped again, and a brief scatter of radio chatter broke through, before it was decoded and relayed into Nole's headset. "A recon unit has been dispatched to your location to see you home Captain, you're expected back within the hour. Dispatch out."
HQ would want all of the Officer cadre back at the Pile for a briefing he supposed. Now the Kusari were breaking into the system, planetside defences would have to be prepped for a planetfall. This must surely be Bretonias darkest hour.
Leaving the building, he ordered Section A forward along a ridge that oversaw the road that lead back to the pile, leaving Section B to wait for the engineer that was still running diagnostics on equipment. After a minuet or so, the recon unit arrived, lurching through the mist. A short-wave radio band was opened between the walker and Nole.
"Good day Captain! I'm Sergeant Alison of Recon Platoon. I've been tasked to bring you all home - when you're ready to move, let me know." Nole clicked a acknowledged signal over, then moved back to the building to hurry the technician up, hanging his rifle off his shoulder by its sling as he did so.
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The technician was done, which was good. Nole ordered the men into an arrow-head formation for movement over the ash plains between their current location and the Malborough Core's perimeter and the way down below. They were moving at a light jog, with the Recon Unit loping along in the centre of the formation just behind the tip of the arrow.
Nole wondered over what might have happened to tip the precarious balance that had settled over the battlefield and how that was going to affect the situation down on the ground on Leeds. However, if there was a Kusari planetfall, his men would be ready to repel or counterattack as the invaders landed.
Nole kept his pace, but lifted his gaze to the night sky. The smog cleared for a moment. Just enough time to reveal a firestorm of sparks and flashes darting across the night sky like shooting stars. He shivered inside his armour. This was it. This really was an invasion - not something distant and detached that happened out of sight and mind a long way away.
Then there was a blinding light from above, as something massive entered the atmosphere, lighting everything below like a sunburst. The formation floundered, then hit the floor as a massive sonic boom thundered across the area, the flaming comet plunging downwards. Finally there was an explosion and the earth rolled, further shaking the men of A Platoon.
Then the radio crackled again. A disbelieving Pile Comms officer relaying the grim news. "The Destroyer Haida is down Sir. They're all dead..."
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Nole stumbled over to Private Johnson and hauled him to his feet, then snatched a comms relay from the bulky backpack that contained all the needed equipment. Plugging it into an access port on his armours side, he patched a channel through to command.
Command, this is Nole! We just saw the Haida go down, or something that looked incredibly similar! If transport is supplied, we can be on its location within the hour. Please advice on course of action! There was the ever present static for a moment before there was a pop and the static cleared.
We read you Captain. Negative on locating the Haida. You are to return to the Pile Core immediately for briefing. Nole shook his head in disbelief. In the unlikely event any survivors had ejected after the atmospheric entry it would be essential that they were recovered immediately. Late ejections of the kind had been heard of in the past, but not without the ejectee suffering varying degrees of injury.
Resignedly Nole disconnected the relay and flicked over to a section wide comm setting. On your feet. Were falling back to the Core. A Section, you're on point. Move out! The unit then resumed its steady pace back home, the Recon suit taking up the role of a vanguard sentinel to keep watch over the units flanks.
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Nole nodded to the Lieutenant on the door before hurrying in. Most of the officers in the room were subordinates from his company second lieutenant and lieutenant platoon commanders, as well as one other Captain, Captain Payne, who was nominally subordinate due to the fact he didnt currently have a dedicated command, as opposed to Nole who was B Coy Company CO.
The other scattering of senior officers were Pile resident staff. Three majors, one lieutenant colonel and then Colonel Lewis himself. Nole hurried to his seat at the front of the theatre like briefing room, the lights dimming as he did so. The Colonels bushy moustache twitched a little before he started speaking.
Gentlemen. You are all aware of dire situation that is taking place above our heads. The Kusari have kicked the door down and are intent on ferreting us out of our very homes. He clicked a button on the remote he was holding, which caused a holographic map of Leeds to appear in the centre of the presentation area. These red arrows represent Kusari capitals. As you can see, theres rather a lot of them. The chaps up in space are doing a good job of beating them up, but theres still a chance they could break through to us.
If those capital ships break through to Leeds orbit we will have to move security from Red to Black Special and implement The Contingency execution. Analysts believe that planetfall will occur within the next three days, or failing a Kusari penetration of planetary defences, within a matter of months as the invader enters a battle of attrition with the reserve fleets. He paused momentarily, stroking his moustache thoughtfully.
Im sure youre all also aware of the grim fate of the HMS Haida. Some survivors were picked up in orbit, including the ships captain Admiral Nelles. However, the vast majority of the crew were lost after it was run into the atmosphere when on the losing side of a skirmish between itself and two Kusari Destroyers. There was a buzz of angry conversation at this until the Colonel waved them down. He clicked the remote again, switching the view from the space theatre of war to a map of the land. A small green dot represented the Core, while some distance West of it there was a purple diamond, presumably representing the crash site.
That marker there is the Haida. When she touched down it provoked minor seismic activity in the areas around it and upset some of the abandoned industrial storage tanks. It also landed on top of an abandoned mining complex, here. Were not sure what that will have released, but itll need looking at He pointed out a small cluster of dark shapes on the grid. Shes left an area of destruction around her about ten miles wide, but things could get much, much worse if the reactor goes up. Well be dispatching a unit of Royal Engineers to shore her up and make sure nothing goes critical. Captain Nole, one of your platoons will be accompanying them to make sure theyre covered should the worst happen.
Nole nodded. Yessir. The Colonel made to turn the hologram off, then appearing to remember something turned back to Nole.
Oh, and youre going to have to do this over land as well. Fliers are out of the question. Atmospheric conditions since the crash have been dreadful. Briefings for your men are under your chairs. That will be all. Nole rolled his eyes. Wonderful.