Operation Shieldwall [FT, Semi-Closed]

[Setulan]

Cordova Mountains, Moytan
Three months prior to Operation Shieldwall


The villa was situated halfway up the slope of a jagged mountaintop concealed behind an impressive garden that bordered on an arboretum. Gravel paths wound their way up the slope towards a copse of native Confederate evergreens, pruned and trimmed in the shape of a striking hawk. It was an impressive home with a commanding view of the countryside that let a visitor bask in the natural beauty of the once heavily industrialized planet and stood testament to the resiliency of both nature and its people (not to mention a fair bit of science and even more hard work). The walk up the garden was a journey through the Fringe Worlds of the Home Galaxy with imported and meticulously cared for specimens from more than a dozen worlds.

As General Kan'Tensi crunched his way up the slope he thought he recognized a few of the more extravagant flowers. He had been on many of the planets these plants originated from, had in fact met the strange woman waiting for him as she was collecting seeds from blood-splattered Frusian begonias. He smiled slightly at the memory as he passed a neat arrangement of fanged vines that stirred gently in his direction as he walked by and he stopped to admire them. He reached out a finger and the plants, drawn to his heat, reached back and slowly wound their way towards his fingertip.

"They're much more manageable when there aren't grid squares full of the grabby things, aren't they?" Kan'Tensi straightened and turned towards the voice. He hadn't heard her walk up, but then again he would have been surprised if he had.

"I thought I would never have to see another Luanese Creeper. I was perfectly fine without ever seeing one again." His host chuckled, a sweet sound that matched their surroundings, and the Huerdaen officer threw a textbook salute. She returned it with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm retired, Kan. And I think you outrank me now anyway. I don't know, I could never figure out your weird rank structure. Come. The view up top is spectacular, and I have some Imperial tea." The two old comrades slowly continued their ascent, making small talk the whole way, and Kan'Tensi let himself look over the Confederate with a more critical eye. Neither age nor retirement had softened Maria Allons. Slightly shorter than her guest and crowned with close cropped iron gray hair, she looked nothing so much like an unusually fit grandmother. Unlike many of the Knights of Hell she bore no visible scars from the time before her liberation, no grisly trophies from the decades long struggle against the Danaversian Empire or the years of war after. Her blue eyes remained clear and sharp, seeing everything, and Kan couldn't fail to notice that even here at home she was always looking around her.

The view was as spectacular as promised and tea was served promptly by the butler, who bowed silently and removed himself from view. Kan barely had time to sip the drink before he felt that penetrating gaze on him. He looked over and saw Maria staring at him through the steam rising from her cup.

"I assume you are here about the muster."

Kan nodded once and placed his cup on the saucer.

"I am."

"And you need me for something."

"I do." She frowned.

"I don't think I fit your target recruiting bracket, General. I'm a bit too old and too slow to be a Black Chevron. Besides, I already have my iron chain." Kan snorted in response.

"I imagine the Star Empire will survive without your kataras, Maria, slow or otherwise." She threw a raspberry at him and he caught it neatly, popping it into his mouth and chewing briefly before continuing. "This mobilization...it is unprecedented for the Chevrons. We think we'll have more than ten thousand CAS troopers with us. Maybe as many as fifteen thousand."

"Yes, you Huerdaen know how to fire up the Confederates. Loudly proclaiming your intention to liberate oppressed peoples will get all the young ones excited. Including my oldest grandson. I still don't see why you need me."

"What we need is leadership."

"I'm retired."

"You're the Hawk of Gamon."

"Once."

"Always.. You were Hassa'Kur's planning officer. You were her choice to command her vanguard on nine drops in the Fringe and you led a division of Hawk Lords during Iron God II and on Setulan. You're a Knight of Hell, a Knight of the Burning Tree, a Knight of the Golden Chevron, and, what, fifty other kinds of knight?"

"Something like that," she answered dryly. Her gaze never wavered. "Don't forget I'm also a Lady of the Inner Circle. And retired.."

Kan sighed.

"I don't have a lot of time, so unfortunately I need to give you the hard sell." He leaned towards her intently. "Fifteen thousand of your soldiers are going into combat. They are, with very few exceptions, going to be green as summer grass, new to combat, and fighting a dangerous enemy to liberate an oppressed planet. You are one of the best division commanders in the Confederation, you are not currently affiliated with the active chain of command, and you being there will save lives. I'll see you at the drop zone."

He stood up, gave her another formal salute, and left her alone with her flowers.


Eastern Mountains, Naris


The heavy mortars sat idle, hidden under their top cover and concealed to prying orbital eyes by small man-portable bafflers. They were supposed to have orbital superiority by now but it never hurt to be sure, and it would be the shittiest of shitty surprises to be seen by a random low flying fighter. A dozen of the big tubes were dug in with their crews around them and ammunition stacked neatly nearby, ready for action. They all knew by now that it was only a matter of time. The Narisi were as eager as they were poorly equipped and would need the big tubes if they had any hope of repelling the inevitable assault.

The confederates were in regular uniforms without their trademarked power armor. To many CAS troopers and heavy armor went hand in hand; it was often an unpleasant surprise when they found out that the Confederation also trained their troops without the big suits and expected them to be almost as effective out of their armor as in it. Sergeant First Class Hans Goya, Knight of Hell, reflected on the impossibility of that expectation as he dozed near the radio. It squawked to life in his ear, making him jump.

"Black Nine Black Nine, this is Fever-6, over." He grabbed the mic.

'Fever-6, Black Nine, send it."

"Black Nine, immediate suppression, preset 6C, how copy?"

"Fever-6 solid copy. Immediate suppression, 6C. Stand by."

Goya jumped to his feet. Troopers at the tubes were already looking over at him, having seen him respond to the radio in the first place.

"Let's get to it! Immediate suppression, 6C!"

The gun crews got to it.

As the crew commander adjusted the minutes and elevation the loaders grabbed the staged rounds and passed them off to the gunners, who held the round.

"Hang it!"

"Set!"

"Send it!"

"On the way!"

The gunner would drop the round and quickly drop to their knees, followed by an almighty thump as the 120mm mortars sent their payload arcing into the sky.

"Fever-6, shot, over!"

Goya watched the tubes thumping and rattling with a smile.

Who needed power armor, anyway?


Yaretsi Causeway Bridgehead
Yaretsi


Private Tarra Lars looked up and saw her death coming from above.

The night sky was full of tracers and flashes, burning trails of screaming fire and the heavy pulse of ion cannons as Yaretsi AAA lit up the atmosphere to try and burn down the incoming Hegemony air assault. Landers buzzed high up, disgorging troops as fast movers ripped by the bridgehead at low altitude and deposited heavy loads of explosives and napalm. For her part the young Confederate stayed low in her hole and prayed for an end to the thunder.

She had no armor, as she saw it - not real armor, just the low-tech vest and helmet her ancestors might have worn. She had a primitive binocular night vision apparatus strapped to the front of her helmet that kept washing out from the intense fire and her grip in her gloves was sweaty as she held on desperately to her rifle. She was a Warrior of the Wind. Why had she signed up for this? What had she been thinking?

"Up and at em, boys and girls! It's time to make our money!"

Tarra looked up, eyes wide, as her platoon sergeant stood over her and her team. They had called him Old Man Morr to his face, Old Crusty behind his back. He was one of the Knights of Hell, the warriors who had fought against the Danaversian occupation when Tarra was just a baby. He moved slow and talked slow, gave them all kinds of unwanted "sage" advice about combat and war that they had chuckled off. What would he know of modern combat, anyway? The last time he had picked up a rifle Confederate troopers had been wearing...

Exactly what she was wearing now.

Suddenly Old Man Morr didn't seem so crusty. As he stood tall amid the tracers and gunfire he looked forty years younger.

"The enemy isn't down in your hole! Up! Get up! Engage! Find your targets, illuminate them with your lasers, and kill those cockroaches! You think you're scared? They're shitting themselves! They had been told this bridgehead was guarded by reservists, and now they're finding you! You are warriors of the Confederation! In Arra's name, Light them the fuck up!"

Tarra took a deep breath, got to the top of her hole, and began shooting.


Adistia System, Northeast Gamma Quadrant
Landing Zone
Operation Shieldwall: Phase Two


General Allons wandered over to the command structure wearing nothing but her armor-interface body sleeve, the tight black material studded with sensors and hookups and - most incongruously - a bundle of flowers tucked into a pouch. The slight woman still looked like a grandmother, albeit a harder one. She pushed her way past a confused looking Peninsularan guard and walked into the briefing, barely acknowledging the other senior officers and commandeering the central console.

"I have just received reports from my forward elements." She zoomed the screen out.

"As you know, approximately eight thousand of my troopers were inserted onto this planet before the initiation of open hostilities to train and support Coalition forces. All of these troops are now under heavy attack. Observe." The map spun around as she manipulated it expertly. "Hegemony forces have pushed into the mountains in east Naris. This is likely a holding action to prevent Naris from supporting the other CUP powers. The numbers will ultimately tell against them but my Warriors of the Mountain are heavily represented there and we should be able to hold them off for some time without additional support. This is an area of least concern." The map spun.

"Our friends the Senki are currently resisting a major push across the DMZ into their southern mountains. This is a heavy assault with committed armored and support assets from the Hegemony. Fighting is fierce and so far contained to prepared fighting positions as the Senki fall back, but the importance of this defense cannot be gainsaid - should the Hegemony achieve breakthrough here they will have a clear road into the CUP heartlands."

The map spun a final time.

"Of greatest concern is the Hegemony assault on the Yaretsi. They have committed the majority of their elite assets and huge amounts of atmospheric and artillery support to this assault. It looks like this is a three pronged attack. One column is assaulting through the foothills in the southeast, driving northwest. One column is assaulting northeast from the same staging area as the Naris assault groups. This column's purpose is to take the Causeway bridgehead.

"That bridgehead was the third assault. A major airborne assault hit the bridgehead last night. My troops were heavily concentrated there and managed to repel the assault but large concentrations of elite Hegemony troops are now in and around the area and there is heavy fighting in the city and surrounding burghs." She looked up at the Peninsularian general after giving her update and crossed her arms.

"The balance of my forces are ready to screen your advance, but I...strongly advise reinforcing our currently committed troops and allies."

[Huerdae]

Task Force 'Nemesis'
406th Pantos "Ashbloods" 4-2-4th Aerial Infantry, 1st Company
Operation Shieldwall: Phase Two

The shaking of the guns aboard Gravekeeper had not abated for the past hour, but the entirety of 1st Company had been mounted up and waiting the entire time. Every shot shook the deck on which their transports were waiting, packed so tightly they were almost touching wings with NEGL Hippogriffs, Peregrines, and Wyverns, CAS Screamers and Bentnose, and Peninsular STURMs and Protectors. The ship had been built as a cruiser-carrier, no where near the mass of the carriers used by a lot of other comparable nations, and just barely enough for this task. The Succubus-Class lacked a lot of deployment facing for its hangar bays, so the multitude of gunships and transports filled it to the brim. Everyone on board knew that as the only ship loitering in the drop corridor, it was going to be the only choice to deploy from.

It also meant it was constantly surrounded by allied ships and fire, and would be the absolute center of chaos. Their pilots had been drilling the deployment from Gravekeeper for three weeks straight to avoid any manner of issue. The final simulation launch prior to deployment, they had lost almost two dozen ships when a pilot got jittery and launched early, cutting through a formation. No pressure, certainly. All according to plan. Ik'Idassen could feel the sweat running over her palms as the engines on the Tengu-t lit up. Suddenly, the constant hammering of the gun recoil felt small and distant compared to the roar of engines from four different militaries. There was no visibility outside a Tengu, not like the big Rocs. The screens used for visual identification of targets were replaced by a single holo-image of the nearby zone projected in the center of the troop bay. A little thing, just enough so people could get an idea what sort of hell they were headed toward.

Right now, it just showed what seemed like countless gunships, fighters, landers, and dropships slowly moving toward the open bay. It was almost surreal, watching dozens of ships seemingly tip over the edge into nothing, as the display was designed for ground combat, and couldn't depict them diving toward the planet. From her view, the ships just tipped, fell, and faded to nothingness. Many of them were within a meter of running into each other as they deployed out of the bay, and more followed up behind. 1st Company had only 35 craft, but in the little display, it looked like a hundred lemmings calmly diving into oblivion.

That changed when it was their turn, and the display suddenly tilted wildly as the gunship's orientation matched the side of the cruiser. The firing guns were highlighted as they shot past, screaming around a Peninsular lander that was struggling to stay out of their deployment lane. Nemesis had priority. That didn't mean that a ship that size, with that much mass, could suddenly come to a complete halt. The entire formation had to veer around the nose, and the armored door to the cockpit of the Tengu slammed shut - preparations for collision, better chance that one of the two compartments would retain atmo.

The formation, planned for a direct dive with no maneuvers through the landing corridor, was now twisting like a snake trying to orient itself. They could only look on in fear as the pilots were forced to adapt instantly, spiraling in a mass through the congested corridor, until finally they were past the big ship. The twisting came back around to orientation, and the gunships and transports spread out carefully - half the collisions in the simulations were after the corridor exit, and someone deployed out to cruising position too quickly.

The training, it seemed, had paid off. Hurtling through the clouds and toward the deck at speed, Nemesis streaked past the outer edge of the AAA net for the enemy airbase, with only a few missiles nearing the air group, and easily swatted aside by the overlapping defenses. They had managed to deploy into the atmosphere with no losses so far, but there was still a long way to go. The display showed their formation, with the Ashbloods at the tip, their Kage-variants flitting out almost out of sight, even with the map zoomed out to account for the speed. Behind them were the CAS, close allies and trusted in this sort of work. Behind them was a big formation that barely fit the large gathering. A dozen or so Drekkars, full of supplies for the CAS troops that were pre-deployed. They were fast, for their size, keeping up well, and made up for most of the EWAR and ECM being deployed by the group. Raiders by design, they were well-suited for this sort of run, but most would be breaking off before combat. Able to hold a Field Regiment without supplies, these things had been stripped down for just cargo. All the weapons, armor, and equipment that the semi-legendary Maria Allons had said her people needed to hold for three weeks without support was stuffed into these ships. Down to the last nut, bullet, and paper clip. The old general had pull.

Behind that was the NEGL. This...wasn't according to plan. They had mobility, and had spread out as they were intended, but the Peninsular craft were lagging behind a little harder than expected. It made the rear of the formation hectic, but still protected. Just another casualty of planning a little too proudly. Too many nations, too proud, thinking they could push things a little harder than they could.

Still, the Pens had their only real heavier armor of the group. Sure, there were Overlords and Bentnose, but they weren't actual tanks. To help keep them up to speed, a handful of Rocs were also deployed with them, with Peninsular pilots to keep them in the right command structure. She couldn't even imagine how much those jet jockeys would hate a Roc, but it made her smile. Still, ammunition, food, fuel, and other battlefield necessities were a must, so the Pens got what they needed. The fact it was working this well at all was a testament to the people taking part. She found it utterly amazing they could find enough competent people to pull it all off.

They had been in transit less than ten minutes when they got word that there was no contact with CUP leadership. At all.

It was another half hour before it was confirmed that CUP leadership DID exist, it just wasn't leading. The Hegemony had some manner of jammer, shutting down all CUP communications. All orders were going by courier right now, people driving in trucks between command sections. The entire front was crazy, with only the CAS able to respond effectively. They'd pretty much organized their own areas under their leadership and command, but there were a lot of gaps. A lot of ways the enemy could attack without anyone knowing.

The Drekkars broke off, then, and the formation locked up. Only two of the bigger ships remained, resupply points that Nemesis would live out of for the next few months. An enemy air patrol was identified, isolated from communications, and dispatched without a word home as a mixed group of Kamaitachi, PenFed M5s, Peregrines, and Bentnose snatched them from the sky in moments. A full flight of Hegemony interceptors, with probably sixty of their heavy bombers, annihilated in the span of half a minute.

It wasn't long after that when orders came through from Major Ai'Raska, and the map-display changed via command interface to show the updated theater, with enemy troop movements included. It was bad, with the enemy making the obvious, and easy play. Take out Yaretsi, alone and vulnerable, and the other two are on their own without quick access to food. Yaretsi held the better naval presence, and if the Hegemony could drag out the battle, Senki may capitulate. They were always a little too friendly with the supremacist fuckers. Naris, on its own, was no threat. Obvious, but effective. Saving Yaretsi was paramount, and the lifeline between them and Senki was that causeway.

It was all expected. A plan was in place to lock down both sides, and if there was an attack, they would work together to repel it. Except that without communication, Senki's forces, heavy on tanks and armor, weren't moving. Yaretsi had been hit almost immediately after communications went out, and their forces were isolated and alone. If not for the CAS, they'd likely have been cut off already. There were two ways to save them. Send in Nemesis, now little more than three hours out, or get Senki moving.

If Nemesis was brought to bear, they'd lose their mobility. They'd be stuck there, fighting a losing battle alongside the CAS. Bogged down and immobile until Senki could be convinced to move. Command had instead chosen to send Nemesis to deal with what caused this issue in the first place. Nemesis would take on the jammer. It had been identified not long ago. Built onto a railcraft - a train, in local terms, it ran a circle around Parekan, never fully leaving the AAA net. Enemy aircraft would be on them in moments when they made their attack, but the track didn't have any access or egress points. The craft, armored and armed as heavily as it was, was trapped in its route.

Their supply Drekkars angled west hard, into the Unnovi forest, south of Parekan, to get their temporary position set up. With most of the fighting occuring around the CUP nations, they'd likely be operating in the area for a while. Without a threatening specter like Nemesis, it would be a battle of attrition. CAS made that very prospect hell, but if Nemesis backed them up, they could keep all three CUP nations intact and functional. Even the barely-militia-defended mess that was Yaretsi.

The Major's voice was confident and calm as they described the plan, indicating a particular section of track. "The target vehicle has a small convoy of other railcraft defending it. Two smaller escorts in front and behind, little more than basic tanks. A few gunships. They seemed to want a low profile, and were depending on the air base's defense and response to keep us from getting to it easily. We're targeting a section of track southeast of the air base. The terrain is hilly, and allows us time to set up before they arrive. We'll be timing our attack with an artillery strike - just here, when the track runs northwards out of the hills, they'll break apart the tracks to immobilize the jammer craft before it can escape to open ground. The Imperials will set their position southeast of the track in the hills there. They're our primary force for this battle. Federals are in reserve. Get your heavies on the ground on the backs of these hills, ready to move. CAS and League, you're reserve this run. Something goes to shit, you're up. Keep the engines running. If it takes too long, we're gonna be fighting this thing with an air battle over our heads. We want to be fast and gone, before they can put any real weight into the battle."

"We're not deploying the full strength of our forces to this. It's a single target, just have to destroy it. It's likely shielded - there's indications of Exodus tech, so stay on your toes. Ashbloods 3rd and 4th Platoons will initiating the attack. The Overlords will destroy the forward escorts and draw off their gunships. GRA Peregrines, you're on standby to deal with the air base response. You need to stay low, most of their defenses are still limited by horizon or radar."

The Railcraft Assault

The railcraft took right around 3 hours to complete a circuit of the track, with a half hour stop at the west end, near the airbase. Command suspected they were taking on fuel to keep up reserves, but that point was defended much more heavily than the rest of the track. It also meant that timing the attack was crucial. Their enemies weren't careless, this was probably a pivotal part of their initial strategy, and they had prepared for it accordingly. Still, the Ashbloods weren't a green unit. They were in position and waiting, heads down and Barca carriages set up facing the tracks.

There were 50 Shield on the line, with a wing of five Overlords waiting. Four Overlord-Variants, one Emperor-Variant. half a kilometer back, 1st Platoon had deployed their recon and support elements, including the Markswoman, JLT Mily'Ree, and their mortar complement. The rest was kept in reserve, lingering closer to the Unnovi. Their line felt thin, weak. Even with the enhanced optics of the Watchman she piloted, Ik'Idassen was concerned by how spread out they were. Still, it made it less likely to be noticed with everyone in cover and concealing themselves.

Of course, concealing a Watchman wasn't exacly easy. The thing was a giant block of armor and guns on legs. Taking cover behind a hill was the best you could really do. The hills here didn't have much vegetation, either. Just long grass. Fine for soft cover for Shield infantry, but a Watchman covered in grass was just silly.

Still, at the speed the thing was coming at, it wouldn't much matter. With that thought, the Railcraft began to peek over the horizon. It wasn't slow, moving at a surprising clip for something the size it was. A kilometer and a half long string of segmented cars covered in guns, armor, and even a gunship landing pad on top, the sloped frontal armor made it look like an armored worm with a skull for a face, where the forward weapons were exposed. The engine compartment wasn't clearly visible, nor was the location of the jammer. Still, she could already hear crackling in their own communication from being so close to the thing. It wasn't sophisticated, but it was powerful. A good enough target for her.

The roar of the Overlords as they streaked over her head was welcome, as the massive gunships peppered the forward escorts with cannons, destroying them in seconds. It didn't take long for the train to respond, however as DEWs arced out at the big gunships, striking off the shields and forcing them back. None suffered major damage, but their return fire on the train was concerning. The gunships had rattled off a few rounds, but the railcraft was also shielded, and the rockets detonated harmlessly against the shield bubble.

In a second, the Barcas opened up, two mounted with Desecrators, and one with a Forgefire. These, too, were deflected by the shielding, but the train shifted visibly, dangerously rocked from the impacts. Then, after righting itself, it suddenly veered north, off the track, as the wheels came up and revealed repulsors along the belly.

The entire craft was abandoning the track, as the artillery came down and smashed the track ahead of it pointlessly. However, the length and weight of the not-so-railcraft meant that the hills forced it away from the airbase. Instead, it angled into the hills and continued east toward Hanvenark, the primary staging point fo the entire attack on Naris and Yaretsi. The largest concentration of enemy troops was still around that city, as well as the most elaborate defensive systems.

Swearing, Big Girl deployed her own weapons, rising to the top of the hill and opening fire against the shielded side of the craft as it wormed its way through the hills in the low valleys, picking up speed even more as it abandoned the track-bound escorts behind it. Gunships screamed overhead, showering the hills with ordinance as they fought to keep up with their charge and firing wildly in an attempt to shut down the heavier Huerdaen weapons, but the thing had avoided the worst of the ambush already. Deployed and dismounted, the 406th wouldn't be taking the prize today.

"The thing's not a railcraft, it's a hover! It's making for Hanvenark, and it's not sticking around to fight! Don't let that thing go!"

[Alexzonya]

The "Rail"craft Assault

“... I guess we could say this operation has officially gone off the rails, eh Major?”

Major Aliki turns her head slowly to glare at her second-in-command, a younger Arcadian Captain whose name badge reads ‘Petrowsky’. There’s a long moment of silence, before Petrowsky clears his throat. “... right.” He taps a control, and the holographic view of the local battlespace pops up, with the hill-weaving not-a-train prominently centered as it snakes its way out of the Huerdaen ambush. “Ma’am. As you know we were second-in-line on this op, and the Huerdaen have officially missed their target, so we’re up. The Arkasian Starfleet jumped the line and attempted to launch a strike using Crossbow-armed Ospreys a few minutes ago, but they got jumped by Hegemony interceptors on their way in and had to ditch their missiles.

“Typical… so it’s up to us.” Aliki gestures at a few points on the display. “Wyverns here, here, and here. Hit them with the 105s. 40s probably can get range too, on a target that size. Target the repulsors and drive turbines. Kodiaks… here, here, here, and here, for target designation, and then the yokai gun carrier batteries…” She examines the map again, and tries to predict the winding route… and how to position her gun carriers to still get shots even if she’s wrong. “Here, here, and here. What’s the status on our Peregrines?”

“Delta Flight is standing by for go, ma’am. Charlie is rearming after blowing their ordnance covering our insertion, T-10 minutes.”

“Scramble Delta now; I want those gunships taken out. They’ll come in low, fast, Overwatch will provide interception guidance… pop up, launch their missiles, and then get back to rearm. They’re the pilots, they know the drill; they don’t need to hear it from me. I’m making sure you hear it, Captain; the lead gunships aren’t sticking around, they’re just paving the road. Launch Charlie when ready in support; give any surviving pursuers a surprise… do we have any air-to-ground for those Peregrines?”

“One moment… no ma’am. Ground team only has air-to-air ordnance on hand for the Peregrines.”

“... fucking pencil-pushers. Right, well. Delta leads, knocks out those gunships, and then bolts; Charlie follows when ready, engages any pursuers, and then snaps towards us for ongoing air cover. Our Hippos land us in our positions while the enemy is dealing with Delta flight’s attack. Make sure the 60s on the Hippos are all kicking; our CAS will be positioning for their attacks, so no chance to cover us in. They’re also the ride home, so drop-and-go; we’ll wheel them back in for exfil.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll pass that.”

“Good.” She reaches over to the wall of the specially modified command gunship and checks her own rifle before slinging it over her shoulder. She punches in a control; it takes three tries to get the right one to transmit to the full company.

“Alright, Troopers, the Huerdaen missed the train, and it’s weaving through the mountains. We’re going in ahead of it; I’m transmitting your staging points now. Get to ground, get set, and light it up as it enters your firing envelopes. Peregrine flights are engaging enemy air, and our Wyverns will be supporting the attack of the train; LZ’s should be clear, but if they aren’t it’s on you to clear them, no CAS. We’re going in drop-and-go, so don’t expect the Hippos to hang around either. Get it done. That is all.”

She terminates the connection as the gunships begin to bank, heading towards their destinations ahead of the train's project path; on the command display, she sees the icons of Delta flight screaming into the battlespace, shooting in just over the treeline with their auxiliary thrusters lit as they head to their intercept points, guided by intelligence from the fleet’s watchful eyes overhead.

[Setulan]

The Very-much-not-a-railcraft Assault


Captain Davram Iris, Lord of the Lesser Circle, Knight of Whispers, Warrior of the Wind, watched the fight below playing out in his HUD. Connected to the inter-allied communication net he could hear the comms going off between all of the members of the QRF. The well planned ambush had turned into quite the shit-storm of improvisation and confusion right out of the gate, a detail the young officer might have been more amused by if he wasn't watching his career flying away into the sky. He heard the clipped commands from the Arcadian Major and saw the command go out for air support. He quickly calculated the intercept position of the Arkasians, the speed the train was going, and the incoming air support and decided it was time to get involved. He opened his company net to speak to his platoon commanders.

"This is 6. It's time to get in the war. NEGL gunships are en route to bring this bird down but enemy air assets and the train's own PDs and shielding are gonna make that a tough task on their own, and they can't stand around waiting to get shot. Gunship elements, remain on station. Weapons and third platoon remain in the birds, first and second are jumping in. First will go for PDs and defenses. Second engage the Ion Limpets. Questions?" There were none.

"Execute!"

Four of the Confederate Screamer dropships fell out of their figure eight pattern and engaged their burners, rapidly catching up to the incoming NEGL Wyverns and taking a position behind and below them. The allied gunships began their attack run in a storm of heavy cannons, causing the train's shielding to erupt in blue and green lights as it absorbed the incoming fire. Tracers and plasma flashed back at the maneuverable craft as they pulled out of their first attack run. White plasma streaming from their overcharged engines the Screamers came soaring in, popping high over the train in a flurry of chaff and flares as their deadly cargo was disgorged. Forty CAS troopers ejected from their transports on parabolic arcs, jump jets in their heavy armor suits screaming, as they flew towards their target. One of the CAS troopers was cut nearly in half by a rotating cannon, dead before she could even scream, and a second was hit by a missile and fell from the sky like a stone with his armor shredding around him. The rest engaged as they closed. REAPER beams, direct entropy weapons that could tear apart a tank, lashed out and split open protruding point defense guns while others slashed ineffectually against the shields. As they entered the train's shield envelope the troopers engaged with a swarm of micro-missiles that blasted apart nearby defenses and cratered armor.

Lieutenant Rus Allons hit the top of the rapidly accelerating train with a thump. A shocked looking defender standing in a hatch gawked at him briefly, weapon in hand, before the platoon leader split his skull open with an energized sword.

"Quickly, move! The Wyverns are coming back in! Get the limpet on!"

Two of 1st Platoon's Warriors landed near the lieutenant as he pivoted smoothly and engaged his REAPER, vaporizing some kind of laser emplacement. All over the train the CAS troopers were jumping erratically and using their heavy armored suits almost like light mecha, harassing the defenders to provide cover for the special weapons team. Allons listened to his platoon net with half an ear as his platoon sergeant, a scarred woman whose face was mostly crude prosthetics, spoke in a raspy if reassuring tone to one of the troopers.

"Activate the clamp. Good! Is it on? Good! Now the charge. Set max dispersion command-det, slaved to the CO. Got it?" The armored trooper she was speaking to gave a quick nod. The veteran did a check of her own, slapped the rookie appreciatively on the back, and got on her radio. "Sir! Charge set!"

"Objective secure! Wyverns are coming back around, break-break-break!"

On his command the assault force abandoned the train entirely. Leaping from the sides and top they plummeted to the ground while engaging their own countermeasures before hitting their jets and landing dispersed on the ground. Allons was bounding for cover but still looked up in time to see the Captain hit the detonation command for the limpet mine. The heavy duty ion charge erupted in a colorless wave of force that sent ripples through the clear sky. The train shield imploded with a snap of displaced air, defensive weapon systems going offline and fuzzing out. Against a target so large and complex the Ion Limpet would only reliably keep power down for a minute or less. Unfortunately for the Hegemony defenders they didn't have anything like that long as the NEGL Wyverns began their second run. 105s and 40s impacted along the now defenseless train, blowing apart its repulsors and drive turbines. The huge vehicle descended rapidly before crashing heavily into the ground, digging a massive furrow in the earth. Some of the cars were crushed entirely by the impact while others, better armored or better cushioned from the fall, remained mostly intact. The whole beast of a vehicle came to a rest just under half a mile below the rapidly deploying NEGL troops.

Iris looked at the wreckage from above, impressed. He could already see troops deploying from the train though whether they were trying to defend the vehicle or simply escape he couldn't tell.

"Nice work, Warriors of the Wind! Close and destroy. We'll come up from the south, the NEGL can sweep down from the high ground to the north. Sweep aside that resistance and destroy the train in detail."

Affirmatives came back in rapidly. His pride at the assault's success was tempered as he saw his medevac bird soar in low to collect his wounded and dead troopers and he frowned.

Later for that. For now, he had a job to do.

[The Peninsular]

The "It's designated a Railcraft in the documents so I will call it a Railcraft!" assault

Stabsfeldwebel Katarin Jechweg drummed her fingers impatiently on her tank, 1/21.3. The tank commander wouldn't admit it, but the trip down had really messed up her and her two compatriots' stomachs. Hurtling towards a planetary surface at breakneck speed was something the Federal Army practiced, of course, but not nearly with the frequency as their allies, and that lack of practice had made itself known in the form of quite a few unpleasant bowel movements. In fact, her driver had almost coated his controls after landing, just from the remaining vertigo.

A few rounds downrange would alleviate that, she hoped, but how long was that going to take to happen? The armor troop of 1st Company, 1st Platoon had taken up position in hidden positions behind the crests of two hills overlooking the area, thus hopefully hidden and able to spring out should they be needed. Both the crews and their vehicles were practically vibrating with excitement, or anxiety, but most often both. This could be the first time any of them would fire their guns in anger!

Her gloved hand carressed the backup optic next to her open hatch, scrubbing off some dirt on the housing absent-mindedly while focusing her attention on the ongoing comms traffic. Still no move order., she thought, looking down to see the gunner adjusting his displays for the twentieth time in the row, checking the 125mm cannon's parameters as the autoloader sat idly.

The SSPz-16B, unofficially named the Bärtierchen - a name which remained unadopted due to some kind of issue with naming a tank after a microbial being - was the newest tank available, just introduced in recent years with the nominal aim of eventually replacing the aging CAHT-2s, two of which were sitting nearby. The 16Bs were faster, more flexible, smaller, lighter yet excellently protected - the only real disadvantage was the replacement of the massive 150mm mass accelerator with a smaller 125mm one, although this too brought hidden advantages in regards to ammunition storage.

The fuck's taking that train so long? Could the Hegemony have seen them coming? After a second, she dismissed the thought, partially to just avoid losing focus. That was something for the higher-ups to worry about, although she wasn't sure for how much longer her fidgety crew could bear waiting.

As it turned out, that was to be a non-issue.

Code: Select all

The thing's not a railcraft, it's a hover! It's making for Hanvenark, and it's not sticking around to fight! Don't let that thing go!

Before she could give her own command, she could already hear the engine whine quietly and the gunner glue himself to his optics in anticipation. "Panzer vor!", she shouted, and could feel the tank rumble as it dug its tracks in.

The noise of aircraft overhead briefly made her poke her head out of the hatch again, just about able to catch the Arkasian dropships thundering towards what were undoubtedly positions in the path of the Hegemony behemoth. However, just as quickly, she glued herself back onto the train - with other vehicles moving to crest the ridge, it was time to focus on her actual job.

"All units for 1/99.", the platoon commander suddenly barked over the battlenet, taking a bit longer than he probably should have. "Platoon, you may engage. Armor troop, target is the power spike, likely jammer or propulsion energy source. Mesre commanders, act as shieldbreakers. Acknowledge and execute. 1/99 out.

In the seconds before cresting the ridge, guns levelled and autoloaders ran through their final checks. On her HUD, Jechweg could see one tank after another report as blue - that is, combat ready status. The turret servos whirred quietly as her own gun swung into position, locking onto one of the orange blobs on the sensor readouts. In her mind, she was already calculating the likely rounds needed. Even with three or so Mesres firing before her, breaking through shields was not exactly something they could just do. A few hits in quick succession would likely be necessary for a weakpoint to form, and then her large-caliber cannon could put shells on target with greater effectiveness.

As it turned out, those considerations became purely academic as the CAS made their move. Whether it was due to inexperience or some other factor, the Peninsularians had not reacted as quickly as the other forces in the QRF, something that no doubt would come up in the after-action reviews. Either way, wherever their allies hurled themselves onto the hovercraft, the tanks held fire as to not cause any incidents. To their credit, a number of the individual commanders didn't wait for further orders as soon as they realized what the skeets were up to, so when the shield came down, all hell broke loose along the ridgeline.

The propulsion system didn't last long, not least of which because the incoming gunships were focusing in on it, and the CFP troops quickly found themselves out of initial targets. With the train crashing and grinding to a halt, there was little point for the IFVs to hold station, either, and they quickly began driving towards suitable positions and disgorging their infantry. Just in time, Jechweg considered, as Hegemony troops began spilling out of the surviving cars and were met with a veritable wall of fire. Rifles, heavy machine guns and IFV cannons quickly began carving bloody swathes into those daring to exit the cover of the wreckage, and pinning those that didn't. Though, with one of the B variants - the heavy mortar carrier - moving up, they would not remain safe for long anyway.

"All units for 1/99.", the platoon commander called again, and she could picture him scratching his head - well, his helmet. "Looks like we'll be cleaning up. 1/21, take care of the armored sections. See if you can locate the jammer and take it out of the picture. All other units, coordinate with and support the NEGL cleaning up. That is all, 1/99 out."

She shrugged. Well, there would be other opportunities to show some initiative. Hopefully., she thought as her turret slewed towards another sensor reading and began putting howitzer-sized holes into the remaining traincars.

[Alexzonya]

“... what are those idiots doing?!” Major Aliki grasps a railing white-knuckled as she grits at the screen. “Wyvern flight, cease fire, cease fire and break off!” The order comes just in time; rather than flying a firing pass, the NEGL gunships banked hard and began a sustained bombardment of the enemy, drawing a fusillade of return fire from the “train” for their trouble. Nearly as swiftly as the salvo begins, it halts, as the CAS troopers drop themselves directly onto their target, several getting blown apart by defensive guns that belatedly switch targets from the distant Wyverns to the immediate threat.

With the troopers now on their target, the Wyverns are forced to hold fire, lest they blast their own allies off of their objective. “What kind of hotshot bullshit is this?!” demands Aliki, as she snarls into her communicator. “Captain, what the hell are you doing?!” There’s no immediate reply, so she can only glower as the hotshots do… whatever it is they’re doing… and then finally clear the firing area with, admittedly, a bit of flare as their charge brings down the enemy shield.

“Wyvern flight, open fire,” she directs, curtly, as soon as the scope is clear. “The shield is down; wreck the train.” And they wreck the train, in a fusilade of shellfire and then sprays of 40mm explosive shells at closer range as the beleaguered survivors of the trainwreck, amazingly, emerge and try to engage. They don’t make it far.

“Hippogriff flights begin retrieval. Peregrines hold overwatch. Let's get back to the FOB and put this op in the book.”

[Huerdae]

Task Force 'Nemesis'
406th Pantos 'Ashbloods' 4-2-4th Aerial Infantry, 1st Company
Operation Shieldwall: Phase Two

From her position moving across the hills and firing up at the bottom and sides of the still-passing train, Ik'Idassen could only delay the inevitable. The fact that parts of the train were still passing over here was merely due to the massive size of the armored vehicle, and certainly not to the 'speed' at which she was running. The watchman was heavily armored, heavily armed, and powerful, but it was also frustratingly slow. One of very few pilots of the walkers among the 406th, she had only recently transferred in, as well. Her fighting previously was with heavy infantry, and had been shifted over to provide more heavy firepower in support of the light infantry and their barely-mobile Barcas.

But where they were sprinting and firing, her heavy footsteps slammed into the grassy hillsides and churned the pristine countryside into a torn-up mess. Every step tore a clod of dirt and whatever this planet considered grass out by the roots, pulverizing it as the heavy legs sunk down several centimeters. The softer ground slowed her down compared to her companions, and if the train hadn't hopped up so high over the hilltops, she likely wouldn't have a target at all. It was probably the single greatest advantage they had, now.

Originally, the train had remained low, the top keeping under the crested hills, but their winding path had betrayed them. Instead of a couple of individual hills that it could weave between, the front of the train came up to a u-shaped hill with high crests on the side. Unable to turn quickly, the hover hurtled up and off it at nearly 300 kph like it was a skidbike piloted by a teenager. The massive armored behemoth found itself now without direct control, exposed on all sides, and with enemies circling like vultures. It only took moments for the punishment to begin.

Despite the airbase's on-standby aircraft, the hover was still unprotected, as the supporting craft were scrambling in groups and finding themselves well within the range of the allied air-kill packages. Tengu-k gunships sat off over the horizon, peppering the targets coming off the runways, while a handful of still-armed but distant Arkasian peregrines sent missiles after the few who managed to avoid the deadly fire. Their time was running out, though, as the enemy response was picking up speed. Underground bays with VTOL craft were getting picked up deploying more advanced fighters, with little enough warning that many of them were getting airborn. The counter-fire from air groups trying to eliminate each other was becoming intense, as coalition vessels swapped out when their magazines and pylons ran dry of ammunition, but the enemy continued to deploy.

The Chevron drop on the train was unexpected by Ik'Idassen, but she chastised herself for that. They were well known for being aggressive and decisive. It was a trait that she hadn't personally observed before, but absolutely understood now. Flying face-first through the hover's shields and point-defense was about as crazy as it got on the battlefield, but it seemed that the constant fire from ground forces and NEGL wyverns had caused enough disruption to keep the defensive guns from being effective. It didn't stop all of them, though, as the sides and rear of the train fired similarly-lethal weapons down at her own groups. Her shields easily withstood a pair of hits from the smaller caliber guns on the vehicle, but a string of strikes nearby cut through a group of running Infantry. She saw the blasts tear through the group, but decided not to check them when the call for medical assistance crossed comms. She couldn't help in this thing, best she could do was bring that monster down.

Almost as fast as the CAS had hit the train, they all bailed off the sides, dropping almost 20 meters as the vehicle's own parabolic arc took it once more toward the ground and the safety of the rolling hills. It never had a chance, though, as a detonation crippled it from inside the shield barrier. The hovers, reinforced and with backups, struggled against the sudden strike, but the shields collapsed completely, and almost immediately a series of 105s from the NEGL Wyverns tore into the side of the craft. Power across the vehicle abruptly died, and the car struck jerked hard to one side like a serpent hit in the side by a rifle. The train suddenly wasn't strung along in an orderly manner, and instead began to pull to one side, the front and rear both trailing toward the middle where it was hit. Followup shots from PenFed armor tore holes in the train structure itself, separating the parts of the train completely at two points and causing the various sections to spill across the hills haphazardly.

Some of the armored cars hit boulders or other hard ground, tearing open and finding themselves annihilated against the terrain. Others, cushioned by debris, softer ground, or just other forms of luck, hit the ground in various states of damage and disarray. Survivors stumbled from several of the cars, many wounded, as they tried to regain their bearings. Several of the cars had spread burning debris, but finally the static and distortion that indicated the active jammer was nowhere to be found. Allied units had started to move in, when command line lit up and Major Ai'Raska called everyone back.

"All units; commence immediate withdrawal. Objective completed. Repeat, commence immediate withdrawal. All units clear the battlezone. Enemy air assets inbound."

All around her, infantry that had been sliding into cover began hurrying out of it. Fire from the soldiers around the downed train began to intensify, with both the primitive chemical firearms of the regulars intermittently supported by the more sophisticated weapons of the exodus soldiers. She began to back away, using her cannon to provide covering fire for the others, but her platoon leader cut in immediately.

"Big Girl, get moving! You're gonna hold up one of the birds!"

Turning around, she started to run as well as she could, and again it became clear what they meant. Around her, the light infantry were again sprinting, hurrying past her to the suddenly-present gunships of all the nations. A quick glance toward the downed ship showed markers painted by several of the Kage-variants across what remained of the vehicle. One by one, they all ticked over from red indicators of a requested target, to a healthy amber of one where one or more of the artillery pieces was responding. Soon, this whole area would be little more than a series of craters. Infantry ran, hopped, and climbed into gunships, and as the craft filled up, they boosted off. Suddenly, a timer appeared on her HUD.

"Enemy fast-movers in range in thirty seconds, if we can't clear the zone in 20, they'll be on us!"

She had never made a Watchman move like that in her life. By her own estimation, the closest Tengu was about 32 seconds away. She barely even had a chance to get out. The pilot, whatever brave, crazy soul they were, decided to give her a fighting chance. Tipping the nose up and bringing it up and out of the gully it had landed to provide protection, the crazy jet jockey skidded the boarding ramp along the ground, throwing dirt and rocks into the bay as it moved toward her haphazardly even as the timer kept going. The clock ticked down to zero, though, as she was almost there, and the bird hesitated, before slamming back on the throttle and nearly bowling her over.

Infantry already buckled down around her grabbed onto her big armored walker as the door started closing and the gunship was suddenly under thrust. A Watchman has no hands of its own, so all she could do was trust in the troops around her to hold her in place as the gunship screamed its way away from the combat zone. Again, the separator door closed, preparations for maneuvers against enemy fire, and she quickly reached legs and arms out in all directions, bracing herself so she wouldn't crush any of the people who had just held her in the bay. The rear door finally closed, and the pilot really hit the engines, making her walker strain to keep its position. She was wedged into the troop bay, head down and facing the flooring, with legs bracing against the upper-rear corners of the bay. Blood rushed to her head as the gunship took hard turns, overpowering some of the inertial dampeners as it jinked hard.

She could feel her consciousness starting to slip when suddenly the gunship settled, and as the separator door opened again the pilot simply flashed a thumbs up back to everyone. This brought on a cheer among the infantry around her, some punctuated by barely-believing nervous laughter. For her part, head pressed to the floor, she tried to release herself from her position without falling on any of her fellow Shield.

She snapped back to consciousness strapped into a flight seat, with cables holding the big walker to the floor of the gunship. It was quick work, done by people without a lot of room to move, but it seemed successful. She had a small amount of puke on the front of her shirt, soaked in only a small amount before it had been wiped off. All around her, the Shield had their helmets open, and offered another round of self-congratulations when they saw she was up. They were all armored up, but she was in just her nightingale bodysuit, the shirt she wore over it with its harness, and a pair of pants with almost a dozen pockets. Even so, she was as tall as any of them, a fact that had earned her callsign 'Big Girl'. Several of those around her smiled knowingly at the puke on her shirt, and she knew for a fact she was going to be hearing about it for some time. Still, it was far better than being left behind. She owed that crazy-ass pilot a good, strong drink. And then a punch in the face for those maneuvers.

Unnovi Forest Camp

By the time the gunships arrived, much of their base had been set up. There had been a team of engineers along with the Drekkars, and they had been working while the others were fighting. Basic, but effective, base facilities were in place, including light-construct buildings for barracks and showers. The repair pads were still under construction, but the command bunker, the only hardened building in the place, was already buzzing with activity. As soon as they landed, they were getting orders. The withdrawal had been haphazard, with people jumping into transports wherever they could find them. Several units found themselves spread across a couple different gunships, and the first few minutes in the evening twilight were spent consolidating back into their groups. The chaos of the fight left a few dead behind, and everyone knew it, but before they could even get to that, the NCOs had everyone on task. Repairing, re-arming, and then concealing the gunships under blinders and camo nets was the first priority, while some units were shifted out for shower and grub, the majority were kept working into the night until all the repair bays were in place and operational for the more heavily damaged equipment.

Ik'Idassen, for her part, found herself scrubbing out the pilot's seat of her watchman. Apparently when she had puked, she was still in the thing, and she had sprayed it all over her displays. This time, her friends from the gunship weren't as keen to help, so she was up late into the night cleaning out the crevices and checking circuit boards to make sure they weren't damaged or in danger of corrosion. While a simple task, it was done in low light with a tarp hanging over her to make their camp harder to detect. It was well into the night before she was finished and had re-assembled the internals. Everything was closed up, and by now much of the after-action had died down, with most of the units asleep.

She was heading past the command post toward the showers when an SLT grabbed her, guiding her inside. Her shirt still had some of the puke they couldn't wipe off clinging to it, but it was now mixed with sweat and grime from working on her machine for a few hours. Inside, she saw many of the unit leaders, as well as a number of NCOs. Around the building, only a handful of readouts were functioning, but she was able to pick up some of what was going on by glancing over them. A status update on her own unit indicated that her platoon commander was wounded and in the infirmary, unlikely to be ready for action for a few days. She gave a sigh, realizing that if it was only a few days, it was relatively minor. Most who were hit today weren't so lucky. Still, casualties had been minor, and that was something to be thankful for. She hadn't even had a moment to consider that up until now.

The Major glanced her over once before they began the briefing, eyes flicking to the structure door to make sure it was closed.

"Good work everyone. After-action flyovers confirm complete destruction of the target." One of the monitors graced them with a view of what remained of their battlezone from earlier in the day, bearing the indicators one of their Kage-variants had snuck back to confirm the kill later in the day. Heavy artillery had completely destroyed the area. When they left, large sections of train had been intact, if disabled. Now, the entire hilly area was pockmarked with medium and large caliber artillery craters. No cars remained even partially intact, and while there were several objects or bodies highlighted as possibly still functional or alive, most of them quickly changed over to confirmed eliminated before the view passed. It was a relief to see that they had been so effective. However, the Major still looked grim.

"We got everyone back together again, but while Senki was moving on the causeway, they got bogged down. CAS was able to hold both ends of the bridge, but there's a middle section that the Hegemony hit hard. This causeway is built tough, with a series of minor fortifications that serve as a mix of naval forts and tollhouses. One of the larger ones, near Yaresti, was taken by the enemy. Several of the enemy units set and detonated charges to take down the causeway, but they failed. Looks like some of the Chevrons, or someone else on site, made a last-ditch assault and disabled a number of the explosives before they could go off. Still, several of them did go off. Before we can send the armor over, we need to assess the bridge damage, and nobody else seems like they're getting close."

The monitors then brought up a new display, showing the blueprints, recent pictures of the causeway in daylight before hostilities, and finally, current status through military optics at night. The timestamp stated the last set was less than two hours old.

"We have naval support for our approach, and we know that they haven't been able to fully secure the fortification. We've been in contact with Yaretsi Naval Command, YNC. They're the ones who supplied the latest images. They don't have contact with anyone topside, but they're holding the naval base on the bottom of the tower and two destroyers remain on station keeping enemy reinforcements from approaching. Despite multiple attacks from the Hegemony elite, Yaretsi merchant-marines have proven they're made of sterner stuff than we expected. Unfortunately, without a good way to push back the Hegemony, they can't get safely up to the underside of the bridge to check the damage. If it can't hold armor, Senki still can't get into the fight. We're heading out there first thing in the morning. The rising sun and reflection off the water should help conceal us on our approach from visual detection, but we have to do this the hard way. No gunship support against units on the bridge itself. Surface weapons among the fortification are viable targets, but we're heading into a defensive fortification here. The weapons on the outside aren't the only danger, and we can't afford to risk the bridge until we've confirmed its current status. Our objective is to do a two-pronged assault. One group meets up with the YMM teams and tries to break through, while the other approaches from above or along the causeway."

They stopped, straightening their uniform, then brought up a display leaving everyone to choose where they'll deploy. "We'll take whatever position is left to us. None of this is going to be easy, so make sure you know what you're up against and you plan your attack in what way suits you best. It's just over six hours from now that we need to start mobilizing and briefing the troops so they have time to plan their own moves and get their equipment together. Take your time and think it through - two minutes now could save a dozen soldiers."

Finally, they stepped back, watching how everyone acted. Ik'Idassen quietly slipped out, not particularly looking forward to playing platoon lead during a fight like this. Least she could do is get some sleep before they moved out again.