Post by Deleted on Feb 13, 2007 23:42:31 GMT -5
Welcome to the chronicles of Echo Company; Argosy 6th Special Opperations Regiment. As we join Major Whitman and his troopers, they rush over the war-torn world-spanning cityscape of Poledouris Four; a world under siege, on an emergency rescue mission.
"FAC Oscar Three, Argosy Six Echo-Six Actual. Inbound to sector November with a flight of seven Valkyrie. Request direct link with CAS units opperating vicinity sector November." My words were terse; clipped and precise from years of speaking into the occasionaly unreliable microvox embedded in the my helmet.
"Argosy Six Echo Six, this is Gunslinger Flight; FAC Oscar Three is off-net, repeat zero contact since his last strike call 5 mikes ago."
I swore; without the Forward Air/Artillery Controller, my comms workload would be five times what it should be, assuming the vox equipment in my pack could even reach far enough. A quick glance around the cargo hold of the Valkyrie airborne assault carrier was met with the grim looks of my command squad. Through the open rear door, I could see the streaking contrails of anti-aircraft missiles snaking through the sky, punctuated by streams of anti-aircraft fire; deadly hypens of light in the darkness.
"Gunslinger Lead, Argosy 6. Copy your last. Say status, over."
"Argosy, Gunslinger; Gunslinger Flight is a squadron of twelve, one-two Marauders with four Thunderbolts for escort. Our position is angels base plus twenty, two hundred klicks sierra-sierra-whiskey your area of opperations. Full load of beans and beer. Uplink from Wrath of Gawain shows that the flack just gets thicker as you head north. Suggest you go NOE on your inbound."
"Gunslinger Lead, Argosy Six. Thanks for the info. Strike Request, Strike Request; Gunslinger, request alpha strike in box surrounding Building Seventeen, sector November. Repeat, clear a box around Building Seventeen, Sector November, drop everything you've got and clear us some fire lanes."
"Copy Argosy. We're rolling in now."
"Good hunting Gunslingers." Flack or no flack, I leaned out the side-door of the strike transport. Buildings streaked past, mostly abandoned. The tactical overlay of my heads-up-display identified the target building, an oblong rectangle, an instant before the sky flared white with the strobe-bursts of Gunslinger flight's trains of implosion-warhead bombs. Dust and debris fountained into the air around our target. Thank the Emperor I wasn't inside that hospital right now.
"Gunslinger Lead, Argosy; BDA evaluate 100%. Nice shooting." I flicked my microvox to my company's channel and keyed the mic again. "Troopers on deck! Insertion in five! Structure is intact, execute deployment plan Able." Status lights from each of my squad leaders flashed green in my Hud.
Debris thrown skyward from the airstrikes plinked against the armoured skin of the Valkyrie as it swooped in low, the roar of the engines painful even through the accoustic protection of my helmet. I glanced at my troopers, a last, quick check to ensure that everyone was rigged in properly, and threw the side door wide, leaping backwards into the night sky. The Valks barely managed to kill their forward momentum before the Argosy troopers deployed, pre-measured rapell lines spooling out, automatically slowing, stopping just as boots touched ferrocrete. Above, lines were jettisoned and the Valkyries pivotted atop their lift-thrusters before main engines flared, sending them tearing back into the maze of the city. The roof rattled as three score booted feet thundered to pre-planned positions. Troopers crouched behind the ferrocrete lip of the roof while entry teams kicked in the doors to the stairwell and stormed inside.
"Gunny!" I turned, and sure enough, my company sergeant was already at my side.
"Sir!"
"Get the boys inside and dug in tight. Archives say this place has a pretty extensive basement, get the patients down there while I see to the package. Check security, see if we can get anything spare; check the kitchens while you're at it, I don't think we'll be getting the patients medivacs any time soon; and if this flack doesn't lighten up, we're going to need to dedicate airdrops to ammo." A large-calibre bullet chose that exact moment to whang off my left pauldron, gouging the plasteel carapace. "And do it on the bounce. Troopers! On the firing line!"
"Action north!" One of the troopers ducked against the parpet of the north wall called, raising his rifle over the lip to lay down a supressive spray of high-intensity las-fire, still-stirred dust from the airstrike only a minute old igniting in a searing line, quickly joined by others as more of my troopers joined in. Gunny kicked my feet out from under me before dropping to the deck himself.
"That flashy red armor of yours is gonna get you killed one of these days, sir."
"Just not today, Gunny. You've got your orders, get to it."
"Aye aye."
I joined the troopers holding the north wall, raising my head to risk a look over. Down below, amidst the dark debris, lit by burning buildings and muzzle flashes, a score of huge, hulking green monstrosities bellowing crude battlecries and spraying in the general direction of my position with equally crude slugthrowers. "Grenades! Light 'em up!" Along the roofline, the wide muzzles of grenade launchers rose over the parapet. A half-dozen voices called as one. "FRAG OUT!" chuff
I looked again. Where the Orks had stood defiant, a spray of green flesh and red blood washed the heaped wreckage. A few bits, a torso here, a leg there, still twitched in a pitiful mockery of life... except... "Movement!" My plasma pistol vomited an incandescant bolt of supercharged gas towards the fleeing form, disappating far short, but serving as an easy marker for the troopers around me. Fire laced the night, but to no avail, as the creature darted between broken slabs of rubble and vanished from sight.
"Entry Team, Six; status?"
"Six, looks clear in here. Building is secure and intact; we are moving the package now."
"Copy Entry, tell the General I'll be down to see him just as soon as I can. Break. Argosy all, let's get off this roof. Break by fire teams and dig in, three sixty cover." Green status lights flashed affimative and half the troopers manning the wall half-stood and bustled into the stairwell. Each of my squads consisted of ten troopers, with some of the best training and equipment the Imperium can provide; and for manuvers like this they easily broke into pairs of five-man fireteams centered around one of the two "heavy" weapons carriers. Half of each squad moved while the other half remained covering the perimiter. I spared a glance at my Surveyor display. One building, four sides. Six squads of line troopers. No fire support, no communications with HQ, limited supplies of grenade launcher ammunition. And the Emperor only knew when the cavalry would arrive. Add in an unknown but presumably limitless supply of orks out there in the city, and this day was quickly adding up to a new level of suck.
"I hate rush missions. I really, really hate rush missions."
"Come on skipper, it could be worse. It could be raining." I couldn't help but laugh and slug the pauldron of the trooper who'd responded as we entered the stairwell.
Chapter 1: Descent
"FAC Oscar Three, Argosy Six Echo-Six Actual. Inbound to sector November with a flight of seven Valkyrie. Request direct link with CAS units opperating vicinity sector November." My words were terse; clipped and precise from years of speaking into the occasionaly unreliable microvox embedded in the my helmet.
"Argosy Six Echo Six, this is Gunslinger Flight; FAC Oscar Three is off-net, repeat zero contact since his last strike call 5 mikes ago."
I swore; without the Forward Air/Artillery Controller, my comms workload would be five times what it should be, assuming the vox equipment in my pack could even reach far enough. A quick glance around the cargo hold of the Valkyrie airborne assault carrier was met with the grim looks of my command squad. Through the open rear door, I could see the streaking contrails of anti-aircraft missiles snaking through the sky, punctuated by streams of anti-aircraft fire; deadly hypens of light in the darkness.
"Gunslinger Lead, Argosy 6. Copy your last. Say status, over."
"Argosy, Gunslinger; Gunslinger Flight is a squadron of twelve, one-two Marauders with four Thunderbolts for escort. Our position is angels base plus twenty, two hundred klicks sierra-sierra-whiskey your area of opperations. Full load of beans and beer. Uplink from Wrath of Gawain shows that the flack just gets thicker as you head north. Suggest you go NOE on your inbound."
"Gunslinger Lead, Argosy Six. Thanks for the info. Strike Request, Strike Request; Gunslinger, request alpha strike in box surrounding Building Seventeen, sector November. Repeat, clear a box around Building Seventeen, Sector November, drop everything you've got and clear us some fire lanes."
"Copy Argosy. We're rolling in now."
"Good hunting Gunslingers." Flack or no flack, I leaned out the side-door of the strike transport. Buildings streaked past, mostly abandoned. The tactical overlay of my heads-up-display identified the target building, an oblong rectangle, an instant before the sky flared white with the strobe-bursts of Gunslinger flight's trains of implosion-warhead bombs. Dust and debris fountained into the air around our target. Thank the Emperor I wasn't inside that hospital right now.
"Gunslinger Lead, Argosy; BDA evaluate 100%. Nice shooting." I flicked my microvox to my company's channel and keyed the mic again. "Troopers on deck! Insertion in five! Structure is intact, execute deployment plan Able." Status lights from each of my squad leaders flashed green in my Hud.
Debris thrown skyward from the airstrikes plinked against the armoured skin of the Valkyrie as it swooped in low, the roar of the engines painful even through the accoustic protection of my helmet. I glanced at my troopers, a last, quick check to ensure that everyone was rigged in properly, and threw the side door wide, leaping backwards into the night sky. The Valks barely managed to kill their forward momentum before the Argosy troopers deployed, pre-measured rapell lines spooling out, automatically slowing, stopping just as boots touched ferrocrete. Above, lines were jettisoned and the Valkyries pivotted atop their lift-thrusters before main engines flared, sending them tearing back into the maze of the city. The roof rattled as three score booted feet thundered to pre-planned positions. Troopers crouched behind the ferrocrete lip of the roof while entry teams kicked in the doors to the stairwell and stormed inside.
"Gunny!" I turned, and sure enough, my company sergeant was already at my side.
"Sir!"
"Get the boys inside and dug in tight. Archives say this place has a pretty extensive basement, get the patients down there while I see to the package. Check security, see if we can get anything spare; check the kitchens while you're at it, I don't think we'll be getting the patients medivacs any time soon; and if this flack doesn't lighten up, we're going to need to dedicate airdrops to ammo." A large-calibre bullet chose that exact moment to whang off my left pauldron, gouging the plasteel carapace. "And do it on the bounce. Troopers! On the firing line!"
"Action north!" One of the troopers ducked against the parpet of the north wall called, raising his rifle over the lip to lay down a supressive spray of high-intensity las-fire, still-stirred dust from the airstrike only a minute old igniting in a searing line, quickly joined by others as more of my troopers joined in. Gunny kicked my feet out from under me before dropping to the deck himself.
"That flashy red armor of yours is gonna get you killed one of these days, sir."
"Just not today, Gunny. You've got your orders, get to it."
"Aye aye."
I joined the troopers holding the north wall, raising my head to risk a look over. Down below, amidst the dark debris, lit by burning buildings and muzzle flashes, a score of huge, hulking green monstrosities bellowing crude battlecries and spraying in the general direction of my position with equally crude slugthrowers. "Grenades! Light 'em up!" Along the roofline, the wide muzzles of grenade launchers rose over the parapet. A half-dozen voices called as one. "FRAG OUT!" chuff
I looked again. Where the Orks had stood defiant, a spray of green flesh and red blood washed the heaped wreckage. A few bits, a torso here, a leg there, still twitched in a pitiful mockery of life... except... "Movement!" My plasma pistol vomited an incandescant bolt of supercharged gas towards the fleeing form, disappating far short, but serving as an easy marker for the troopers around me. Fire laced the night, but to no avail, as the creature darted between broken slabs of rubble and vanished from sight.
"Entry Team, Six; status?"
"Six, looks clear in here. Building is secure and intact; we are moving the package now."
"Copy Entry, tell the General I'll be down to see him just as soon as I can. Break. Argosy all, let's get off this roof. Break by fire teams and dig in, three sixty cover." Green status lights flashed affimative and half the troopers manning the wall half-stood and bustled into the stairwell. Each of my squads consisted of ten troopers, with some of the best training and equipment the Imperium can provide; and for manuvers like this they easily broke into pairs of five-man fireteams centered around one of the two "heavy" weapons carriers. Half of each squad moved while the other half remained covering the perimiter. I spared a glance at my Surveyor display. One building, four sides. Six squads of line troopers. No fire support, no communications with HQ, limited supplies of grenade launcher ammunition. And the Emperor only knew when the cavalry would arrive. Add in an unknown but presumably limitless supply of orks out there in the city, and this day was quickly adding up to a new level of suck.
"I hate rush missions. I really, really hate rush missions."
"Come on skipper, it could be worse. It could be raining." I couldn't help but laugh and slug the pauldron of the trooper who'd responded as we entered the stairwell.