Landing With A Bump (FT, Closed)

[Dreadful Sagittarius]

Combined Intelligence Directorate
'The Black House'
Sicyon, Sagittar

The middle-aged woman sat at the small steel desk looked up at the first knock on her door. "Enter." The newcomer looked down on her, a sleek tower of corded muscle topped with black hair just starting to run to grey all covered in a dark green uniform, blank except for the single grey tag bearing the name Kallias. He smiled lazily, "Taxiarch. You sent for me?"
"Sit down," she commanded curtly. He did so, crossing his legs idly, one booted foot slowly tapping the floor as she looked at him wordlessly. "We've got another job for your bunch. As of twenty-nine hundred hours last night, we lost contact with the Alpha-Test-Four. It's a new ship, a special design. The specifics you don't need to know, but suffice to say it's got the most advanced LOW-OB and sensor systems going, and losing it is...embarrassing for the upper echelon of the Nautikon."

Kallias snorted, "I can imagine. Get a new toy and they break it." He couldn't keep the grin off his face at the satisfaction of knowing yet another Navy project had gone as his father would have said, 'tits-up'.
The Taxiarch's face finally cracked a little, showing a hint of a smile. "Yeah. Anyway, approximately four hours after contact cessation, we noticed the emergency beacon flashing. It's crash-landed on some dead-end planet. Not many locals, and it is a quiet area, so we've got opportunity to retrieve without disturbing anyone. Get in, retrieve the data and crew, and evaluate the chance we can pull the wreck off the surface. Understood?"
The man shrugged, a hint of a bored grimace on his lips. "No problem, ma'am. Standard resources I take it?"
The woman nodded. "Yes. You're getting a better ride than the Hsigo this though. Know those old Rangers we've got, where the Navy trains their people?" Kellias nodded. "Well, we made a deal, got access on three decommissioned hulls and completely refitted them as armed Jump-capable interdiction vessels. 'Moirai'-class, they are now. You're out-bound in four hours."
"Joy," muttered Kellias as he stood and saluted.

SNV Clotho
Moirai-class Interdiction Craft

The briefing room was small, just right for the size of a team like Kellias', but that didn't make it seem any quieter. Everyone talked, swapping speculation about the current mission. He could hear Boomboom practically chanting all the way down the corridor. "Viprans man, I'm saying we're hitting them."
"Don't be stupid. I reckon those Maekari. Nothing good comes of tentacle-heads."
He could hear Spidey sneer in reply, "We made peaceful contact with them, moron. You really think they'd send us after them?"
"Yeah, I'd have thought you'd have been wanting to get on that rather than shooting it Blueball!" cackled Hound. The chorus of laughter quelled the argument for just long enough. He cleared his throat noisily as he stepped through the door. "Thank god you're all wrong, otherwise I'd have to shoot the person who did know for breaking protocol." The change in the atmosphere was remarkable. All of a sudden, every member of Bǎolěi Squad was sat rigid on their seats eyes-front. Kellias managed to keep a sudden grin off his face at the look on them. "Okay. Speculation time's over."

"We're being sent to secure a shiny new Navy toy. It's eye-spy from the looks of it, and it went down last night in the Hsien-Lu System. Op is a standard grab-and-hold, which means standard equip-set, and standard commission." He glanced back up from the notepad he was holding. "They also want us to recover the ship if we can. If it turns out it can be done, they're throwing in a bonus for securing." He flung his arms out wide to invite questions. Holyman lifted a tattooed arm up, "Yeah boss. What's the environment like?"
"Place is a wasteland by all accounts. Lots of sun and sand, no water." Kellias glanced down at the sheet again. "There may be inhabited patches, but that's not a certain, so assume that there's no natives."
"Hostiles?" asked Korinna. Her tone was light, but he knew full well what she was hoping the answer would be.
He shook his head, "Nope. All accounts are it seems to have been an accident that caused the ship to crash." He pursed his lips, waiting for any other questions. "Alright, we're done. Time to get tooled-up."

Kellias glanced around the locker-room. Everyone was tooled-up, heavy plates covering the vitals and plenty of firepower. He caught a glimpse of the stencilled name on his own chest-plate. 'Pretty Boy', soon to be an irony as he contemplated the strands of grey starting in his hair. "Everything alright boss?" He turned to see Glory standing behind him. "Yeah. You?"
"Can't complain. Need the commission something fierce though. Anna's going to be ready for university next year, and I can't leave my parents to scrounge the money themselves."
"I hear that. Heh, knowing Eyes, he's probably going to get it back up to space with a tow line between his teeth if he has to."
The intercom crackled with the voice of the Clotho's new captain. "Bǎolěi Squad, drop in two."
The twelve of them pounded the deck, heavy boots thudding along the way to the launch-bay and the waiting dropship, boarding it in the reverse order they'd get off in. It wasn't a combat drop so none of them were using the bucket-seat harnesses arranged on each side of the compartment, just holding onto the dangling grips. "Listen up! Okay, very quickly. Team One is me, Tunnelrat, Eyes. Team Two is Boomboom, Spidey, Holyman. Team Three, Hound, Glory, Korinna, leaving Babe, Lykou and Blueball for Team Four."

Looking around the squad, he asked "We good?" They chorused assent with a slackness that wouldn't be tolerated in the main force Stratia. "Alright then," he nodded, turning to the Houyi battle carbine in his hands. Checking the rifle like an old lover, he ran through the pattern. Chamber clear. Magazine, full and tight. Sights worked in. Round-counter operational. Good to go. He slung the Houyi back on his shoulder, making sure the sling didn't fall into the gap between his arm-plate and the main chest cover. Getting it caught there would make him into mincemeat if a fight happened. The pilot piped in over the wide-com,the typical kind of miserable-sounding bastard that the Nautikon sent to Operational Branch units like his own. "Bǎolěi Squad, prepare for drop." The peculiar sensation of lightness filled the troop chamber as the transport rocked back on its skids, lifting itself above the deck plate, the anti-gravity generator running at full power to allow the crew and the team to burn hard and fast out of the bay. Engines kicked in, roaring plasma jets that would have quite easily sat alongside a flamethrower as a terrifying weapon.

Wreck of the Alpha-Test-Four
Planetary Surface

It took mere minutes for the dropboat to break down into the atmosphere, only the slight vibration of the engines showing it to be in motion to the passengers. Even the anti-grav generator couldn't totally arrest the jolt of deceleration as it dropped to a sudden halt forty metres from the blackened wreck of the Alpha-Test-Four, ramp falling open. Hound's team was the first off, dropping from the dropboat onto the sand dune below. Each of them scrambled out in a triangle patter, Korinna anchoring the tip just a few metres away from the craft. "Team Three, landing site secure." Kellias shrugged on the helmet held in his hand, letting the filters start pumping air as the rubber seals isolated his head from exposure to anything like poison gas or even an unbreathable atmosphere. The dropboat drifted down gently, shifting in the sand as the other nine of the unit tramped off.

Eyes winced as his sight adjusted to the glare and he could see the wreck properly. "Ah shit. I don't think we're going to be seeing that bonus, boss." Tunnelrat goggled at him. "Are you kidding me? Look at it. It might look like it's headed for scrap, but this damn thing looks like a modded Argonaut, and those are some tough machines."
Eyes rolled his eyes in faux-surprise, "Oh here we go, Mr Boat."
Kellias snapped at the pair. "Shut it! The way you two are going at it the Twelve themselves are going to hear you." He spotted a gaping hole in the flank of the ship, a great tear like an animal's jaws on its freshly caught food. Waving the unit onwards he sped up, doing the so-called dwarf-run, a crouching run that took its toll on the soldier but was better than standing in the open as a target. "This is Team One, securing portside hull breach. Status?"
"Team Four, moving to secure dorsal hatch."
"Team Two, we've got tracks. Multiple persons."

"Okay. Hold on the tracking until we've scouted this place first. Team Four, breach in five." Tunnelrat sprinted across the gaping hole wrought into the ship's frame, crashing his back against the hull on the other side, rifle up and covering the right flank. Eyes switched to his left-hand, not something he liked for long range, but good enough to use at short range. He lifted his hand in a thumbs-up for Pretty Boy who was still counting down, "Two, one, IN IN IN!" Pretty Boy dashed in, the hole opening up a long corridor, buckled black metal stretching away left and right. He turned to the left, crouching on one knee, rifle scanning the corridor as Eyes sprinted in to cover the right and Tunnelrat followed behind him.

On the far side of the ship, Lykou wrenched the hatch open using his prosthetics. Babe dropped in through the hatch, weapon up and ready. He switched on his helmet-lamp, the bright glare lighting the place up like a new-born sun. The light revealed a small chamber, an airlock which would in normal times receive a docking tube from a station. Right now it was a morgue. One female corpse lay contorted like a rag-doll on the floor, another corpse, this one a middle-aged Xhanese male was impaled on a piece of conduit tubing, chin red where the wound had made him choke on his own blood. Blueball thumped down besides him, followed by Lykou. The first grimaced at the sight of Babe's pale face. Lykou just ignored the bodies. "Corpses here," he reported.
The tinny voice of Pretty Boy came back over the widecom. "Alright. Team Three, secure the boat. Team Two, mark the tracks but police the side of the vessel. Teams One and Four, carry on sweep."

[Telros]

Milky Way Galaxy, Gamma Quadrant
Jardín System, the world of Espina
1034 hours

******

“Lay 'em down, Paul.”

The man in question took a look at the cards on the table and swore, throwing his own hand in disgust. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair and leaned back, scratching a scar on his face in irritation. Reaching over to take a swig of his whiskey, the hard liquor burning its way down his throat in a fashion he had became far too accustomed with.

Paul glared at the other man, gesturing in resigned anger. “You have some of the most annoying luck in the galaxy, Jonathan.”

The other man laughed as he reached out to pull in his winnings. “That's why they call me Lucky, dont'cha know?”

The blonde man grinned at Paul, his smile reflected in his blue eyes, making Paul just that bit more irritated. This happened almost every time they played, Paul won most if not the whole pot; they had conducted an experimental bet, checking to see if Paul was cheating or just that lucky and could only confirm that it was the latter. The fact that he was the squads demolitions expert and had survived his fair share of ugly situations kept a riot from forming over his wins.

Paul grimaced and growled out. “Ugh, stoppit Jon. We have had enough of your 'lucky' stories. Just deal out the next hand.”

Jon laughed again but complied, dealing out the hands to the various people at the table. All had the large, bulky forms of well-trained soldiers, complete with scars, tattoos, and the smell of booze and smokes. Men and women alike enjoying some downtime in the barracks, some doing some exercises, working off some anxiety, soreness, or just doing it for the sheer pleasure, with about half resting, sleeping off their patrols. Others were cleaning and maintaining their sets of ANUBIS power armor, their large hulks sitting in the engineering section of the barracks. There was a harmony of rhythm and motion to all of it, as if it was a symphony that had been practiced and over and over again, until it had been committed to memory utterly. Then came the shuddering stop, as the doors opened and the stiff figure of Captain Jack Marsen stepped through. One of the NCO's noticed, and barked out.

“Officer on deck!” All motion stopped, as everyone including Jonathan and Paul stood and saluted until the Captain nodded.

“At ease, ladies and gentlemen.”

They resumed their poses, but remained standing; Jack could see the confusion on their faces. Shifting his stance, he cleared his throat and began to speak.

“I can see you are confused, as I was to meet you at midday, to discuss the agenda and news for the day. However, circumstances have changed things. At 0834 hours, Orbital Control detected a disturbance above Espina that proceeded to descend and crash land in the Outlands. They have determined that it is a vessel of some kind; it is unknown how it got here and past our defenses, the techies theorize some kind of stealth system. What is known is that we've got a pile of unknowns on our soil, and we don't know if they are hostile or just being cautious. Our platoon is being activated to go investigate.

Our orders are to search for survivors and catalog the wreckage. We will dispense what medical aid we can and try to determine exactly why they are here. First contact protocols have been approved, so any major decision will have to go through me. We are approved to go hot at any sign of hostile action but they do have to act first, we do not need a war on top of the action going down on Faith. Any questions?”

No one replied. Jack smiled. “Then get suited up and at the plane in 10.”


**********

The Whirlwind blasted over the open wastes of the Outlands, carrying the forty soldiers of 3rd Platoon, who were in the middle of double-checking equipment, preparing themselves for the operation and well, gossiping.

“Do ya think it's the slit noses from the Chau Sector?” Jonathan grinned out of his helmet at Paul, who grunted.

“Please. They said it was unidentifiable, Jon. Not to mention if they stealthed, they wouldn't have fucked up like these guys did here. It'd be more likely to be the psi-boys from Auri Sector, with their weird energy blade shit.”

Jonathan shuddered. “God, I've only seen pictures of that OP, but I have no idea how Haven Company got the fuck out of there at all.”

Paul grimaced. “Yeah, grim shit that.”

“Cut the shit, boys. We're about to land. Stop gossiping like two elderly women with cats.” Captain Marsen turned his gaze on the two and they wilted. “We'll be fine. This OP is going to be simply and we have plenty of people to ensure we get out if things get hairy. Besides, its the Outlands, there is nothing here for them but the occasional oasis outpost. They will be rather keen on working with us, if they're smart. Besides, we have the Whirlwind, between her guns and comms, we'll have plenty of ability to deal with whatever they do.

Everyone knew the constant chatter before mission, especially from Jonathan, was a sign of nervousness. It was how they prepared themselves, but a commander still needed to cut in when it was getting too dark and worrisome. Jonathan spoke up, his voice firm.

“And if they're stupid, sir?”

Marsens just patted the riffle mag-clamped to the back of his armor and grinned. “We prevent them from dying of thirst.”

The air buzzed as the comm unit flickered to life. “Target identified. Setting down at a safe distance. It's not much for you boys to hoof it but I'm not taking any chances.” There was a pause and then the comm crackled again, the voice more focused and alert this time.

“Sir, I just read some sort of dropship vacating the crash site. It's definitely not one of ours, sir. And there's movement at the wreck itself.”

Everyone turned to look at Captain Marsens as his face went neutral as he thought. This could mean they got a dropship out of the wreck and were using it for cover and protection, but that was highly unlikely. The wreck was incredibly damaged and any hangar bays would not only be closed via damage, but the dropships would be all over the place and mostly wrecked. Which most likely meant this was an outside dropship, which indicated that they got past orbital control somehow.

Marsen declared in an even but controlling voice, indicating he had shifted into operational mode. “Bring us down a decent distance outside of the wreck, we don't need to scare them into a conflict. Remain on overwatch and keep an eye out for that dropship. If this gets into a firefight, it'll come back and try to blast you out of the sky. Inform Command of the situation and of the possibility that they managed to bypass our orbital defense grid with some kind of stealth technology and to keep an eye out for that dropship."

“Aye, aye sir.”

The dropship landed down on the cracked patty that the vessel had crashed down onto, with a larger crater ahead, large fissures in the earth signalling the pressure caused by the landing. The ramp dropped with a loud hiss, the hydraulics groaning their usual protest as the door dropped, showing its cargo of large blue power armor suits, wielding the larger Impaler rifles that the grunts loved so much. The troops filed out by squad, moving with the precision and discipline of a well-trained group. One moved into point man, waving down the area before calling for the rest, joining two others forming a wedge as they pushed to the edge of the crater, securing positions behind upraised rocks or on their stomachs. The captain followed, issuing orders as he moved towards the ship.

“Alpha, Beta, flank the wreck from your position on the crater's lip. I want constant sight on the wreck and any further movement. If I call down the thunder, give them everything you can. “Pilot, your designation is now Hawk One. Maintain overwatch and inform me of developments.” The dropship lifted up and moved back into the sky, its guns deploying and ablative armor shifting on top of its hull as it prepared for possible combat.

Marsen's looked back down at the crater and could see tracks leading out past the crater, as well as the indent from the unknown dropship. He activated his HUD to zoom in, and could see more tracks around the side of the ship and the indent, indicating they had deployed outside guards. Movement could be seen inside the doorways and breaches, indicating the soldiers had backed off into the nearest cover. Smart move, but how to do this without causing a firefight. Marsen only really had one option and he took it. He opened a general wavelength comm channel and began speaking.

“Unknown soldiers, this is Captain Marsen, 3rd Platoon, 1st Company, of the Hierarchy. Your ship has crashed landed on our world and we are here to investigate. We do not wish for a fight, we wish to know the situation and if there is any aid we can render you. Please respond so we may open up dialogue between us and avoid a conflict.” The suit translated it into all known languages the Hierarchy had but unfortunately, they might speak something entirely different. For now, all he could do was wait, as the rest of the platoon hunched and prepared for a hostile reaction. Paul was silently praying as Jonathan was quiet, eyes intently focused on the wreck.

[Dreadful Sagittarius]

Wreck of the Alpha-Test-Four
Espina Planetary Surface

"Flight Blackeye to Baolei-One! Incoming unknown from orbit, am going to break off and return to Motherlode!" Prettyboy stifled the curse on his lips as best as he could, settling for clenching the fist that signalled a wait as tightly as he could. The time it would take for the two teams inside the wreck meant the dropship would be on the ground long enough for the incoming to take it out, should they prove to be hostile. "Understood, Blackeye." With a click he cut over to the Squad's own channel. "Baolei One-One to Baolei Three. Break for the flank hole. Baolei Two, head topside and use the docking hatch." Turning to the other two members of the first fire-team, he spat out more orders. "Tunnelrat, hold position here. I'll send Three back to you. Eyes, I want you and the Artemis with me." The lean Sagittarian grinned in anticipation, slinging his Houyi back onto his shoulder as he switched to the Artemis-sniper rifle slung over his back and joined Kallias in double-timing it back up their original path.

Glory glanced back over his shoulder as he followed Korinna and Hound down the sloping sand towards the black wound in the Alpha-Test-Four's side. He could see the newcomer as it burned in down through the atmosphere, heading for the great crescent of sand that had been thrown up behind the ship, and gently settling behind it. 'Great,' he grimaced mentally. 'Foot soldiers.' Turning his attention back to the team's destination, he spied the welcome sight of Prettyboy and Eyes crouched in the entrance already. Hound and Korinna crashed down further inside the open hallway, and he dropped down besides the other two. "What's happening, sir?" Kallias just frowned, eyes never wandering from the crest of the makeshift hill.
"Damned if I know. I thought this was a routine take-and-secure!" Turning to Eyes again, he pointed out a distant spot on the high ground. "You see anything up there?" The sniper concentrated for a moment, eventually settling back with an unhappy look on his face. "Call me a pessimist, but we may have some trouble." Glancing at Prettyboy sidelong, he spoke up with an apologetic air, "Looks like powered armour."

Despite being closer to the wreck, it had taken Baolei Two as long to get to the topside hatch and in as it had for Baolei Three to run from the dropzone to the wreck, and it left all three of them panting like dogs. Dropping in, they found the other three just a chamber in past the gruesome airlock. Lykou glared at the newcomers. "What the hell's going on? We were sweeping through here when Prettyboy clogged the com." Boomboom lowered his head and stared at Lykou pointedly. "If he thought you needed to know urgently, he'd have told you. Now, I'll tell you unless you want someone higher up the chain for it. No? Good." Turning to face the rest of the group, he flashed his hand in signals to take up a standard circle pattern, or as close to it as they could get in a mass of passages and rooms. "Baolei Two-One to Baolei One-One. What's happening bossman?"
The terse reply came back instantly. "Seal the topside hatch, now. Sweep down to the engine rooms, and maintain a rearguard." Boomboom glanced up, catching Spidey's eyes and the look of concern in them as they recognised the tone of his voice. "Sounds like he's pissed," she murmured.
"Ain't he just? Okay, Lykou, Babe, head back and mangle the hatch clamps. We've got visitors, and they don't look friendly. Holyman, Blueball, sweep to the left, there should be a ladder heading down to the next deck. Spidey, we're going to sweep forward, there should be a lift shaft there."

As they finished their swift sweep forward, Boomboom activated the comm. "Lykou, status?"
"I've wrenched the handle off. They'll need to blow the door in now. Babe's moving to join Blueball and I'm on my way to you now."
He breathed deep in the stale air. Hopefully the news that there was, to their knowledge, only one access point in now would lift the squad leader's spirit. "Boomboom to Prettyboy. We've sealed the topside hatch, and we're going to push down to the second deck."
"Good work. Head down to the primary reactor ther-" A harsh crackle broke the sentence mid-stream. A second later again it picked up, "-confirm?"
Boomboom snarled as the comms frizzled out again. "Prettyboy! Prettyboy! Anyone in Baolei One or Three, respond!" The comms just hissed defiantly at him. "Ah, dammit. Okay, we're going to head down to the primary reactor. Hopefully Babe and the others got the message too." Silent nods of agreement followed, and he turned back to the lift doors, wedging them open solely with muscle power. "Let's go."

On the other side of the ship, Prettyboy pounded his fist into the bulkhead besides him. The comm had cut off, only the Twelve knew why. All he could do was hope that the other two teams had got his message to get to the primary reactor and then use a small service tunnel listed on his wristband's map to head forward. If they didn't know about it though, they'd just walk into a slaughter. Stuffing the bundle of frustration and anger deep inside that the mission had suddenly thrown at him, he turned to Eyes. "That power armour. Think you can make a statement?"
"Sure," the other grinned almost cockily. "Emphatic or diplomatic?"
"Well they're not actually shooting at us...yet. Let's roll with diplomatic." He turned back to the other three members of the Squad besides him. "Head forward, Tunnelrat should be down there. Locate the main bridge and secure it, we'll be down in a minute." As they scampered off, he turned back to the sniper. "Well?"
"If you shut up, I could actually concentrate."
"Always the whiner."
"Always the bitcher," he riposted. Tucking the stock of the rifle into his shoulder, he focused his attention down the variable-zoom sight. The background was tinted green by it, the better to make the heat-orange of movement appear brighter. "There we are." He settled his leg back, dropping the red dot of the scope right onto the obscenely-proportioned shoulder pad of one of the unknowns. The Artemis cracked, and he didn't have time to see whether it hit or not as he suddenly joined Prettyboy in running hell for leather after the others.