The ATHENA Program IC (MIL / SCIFI)

[Tiltjuice]

Credit to Deramen!

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The Athena Program
Agency for Theoretical Hazardous Events Neutralization Actions

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"This is a story of heroes, of men and women fighting against the odds for something bigger than themselves, while never seeking nor expecting the spotlight."

OOC

0437, Central European Summer Time
ATHENA HQ - Geneva

The wall-mounted videophone chirped, and chirped, and chirped its irritating alert for an incoming call.

Finally, the sleep-thickened voice of ATHENA’s field force commander called out, “Accept call - outgoing audio only.”

“Sorry to wake you up early, Brigadier - er, Commander,” the ruffled, backshadowed image of Britain’s ambassador to the UN said, and suddenly Peter Beaumont was all ears.

“What is it, Ambassador?”

---

Despite all the projections, and as many exercises as the planners could dream up against a completely unknown enemy, he’d never expected to use them. Lulled into peace and inaction by the sheer improbability of Drake and his equations.

Well, damn the man and save the Empire. And the world, it seemed.

The ex-Royal Marine officer who’d been known, unimaginatively but serviceably, as the Old Man to his onetime RM subordinates, reached out and began issuing a series of keyboard and voice commands.

---

A doctor from the early 20th century could have been forgiven for believing that a private, high-class clinic occupied Level 2 of the unassuming little building that stood on the far side of the Chemin de Franchevaux. Within line of sight of the CERN Hostel and the statue of Shiva, visiting scientists often wondered what the odd stumpy structure behind a fence, barbed wire, guard post, and five languages’ worth of “USE OF DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED” signs really was.

But the board magnetically clipped to the lone bed in each dorm room would not list the occupant’s medical history. Instead, fifteen of them in particular lit up. Beaumont’s voice gave a terse set of cryptic phrases that would mean nothing outside of the elite group.

The Great Commandy One, as a few wags were wont to call him when they were sure he was nowhere around, had spoken...and his message would be enough to launch those fifteen from their beds in a frenzy of action.

“Confirming Plan 9. I repeat. Plan 9 is now in effect. Immediate response to Aiguillette and Iridescent. Detailed briefing at 0530. Brocade is to stand Day watch.”

With that, the boards in the barracks dimmed once more; but others, elsewhere throughout the building, lit up.

“Doctor Gordon. Messrs. Tessasohn and Flores. Aspirant Holmes. Your presence is requested in the briefing room at 0530.”

Beaumont was not yet familiar with all their individual routines yet, except for Holmes'. The sniper was long on math, short on imagination, and seemed to live on B1 and B2, so much so that there was a gambling pool open on whether he'd sleep in the shooting range or the Kill House if he was given a choice. As for the others...their off time was their own, and it didn't matter much to him whether they shopped and relaxed, worked, slept, drilled, or chatted with the pilots and the maintenance crew.

---

As if to make up for his disbelief, Commander Beaumont stood, DPM crisp and beret perfectly centered, at the front of the room. He fiddled slightly with the marker and its cap, popping one out of the other with a quick series of snapping noises, before standing straighter as the men and women of Fireteams Aiguillette and Iridescent began to file in.

[Highfort]

"Ack, der'mo," Alon rose abruptly from his pill-induced slumber. Even with the prescriptions, he was a light sleeper, and Soviet engineer hadn't yet recovered from the last binge at the usual hole-in-the-wall. Rubbing his forehead as he got his bearings and grabbed the thoughtfully-placed hangover pills and water by his bedside, the Filipino man stood up and wobbled on his feet.

Presence requested in the briefing room? That was new.

When he'd first got transferred, Alon hadn't been told a whole lot other than what a prestigious and top-secret organization ATHENA was. And if he ever breathed a word of his work to anyone off-base, not even the most powerful officials in the Central Committee could protect him from the firing squad. With barely enough time to settle in, he'd spent his last few weeks figuring out how everything worked: going out on the town and seeing what passed for bars in Geneva, getting up to scratch on the facilities and projects, and getting to know his fellows down in R&D. He'd even met the soldiers a few times, mostly on routine training exercises.

Not that he'd remember their faces right now, of course; could hardly even see straight.

Glancing over at his alarm clock, he grabbed his phone and shuffled over to his closet. Almost an hour to prep - how oddly luxurious. Then again, he supposed, it was rather early, so perhaps not.

Hot water. Liquid soap. White lab coat. Long-sleeve turtleneck. Slacks. Spectacles. Watch. Tablet. Long socks. Dress shoes. Access card.

Three pins: ATHENA, the Philippines, the Soviet Union. His homes.

One last check in the mirror to make sure he didn't look too tired.

A few glasses of water later, and the engineer was bounding down ATHENA's numerous hallways toward the briefing room. It was an oddly-quiet route, which suited him just fine. Silent nods and quick waves were enough to placate anyone with a passing familiarity in Alon's mind. He saw several uniformed individuals file into the briefing room and sighed in relief as he checked his watch - right on-time.

Turning to the center of the room, he offered a crisp fist salute to Commander Beaumont before pulling out his tablet and stylus, prepared to take notes.

"Dobroye, Komandir," he offered, adjusting his glasses, waiting for Beaumont to spring no-doubt unpleasant news on the assembled group.

[Mincaldenteans]

The words barely registered, somewhere between an echo and a whisper that was not to dissimilar from a ghost of a touch. He jerked, the quick frantic panicked reaction one gets when their mind processed that what it heard wasn't a dream at all. Connor groaned, shifting his arms under his pillow and moved his body to the right and away from the blinking clock that purposely remained bright to torment him. Now turned over, he could snooze a few more minutes, that'll teach the clock some much needed manners.

He was by no means a morning person and having been posted here had changed little in the time since. A few weeks in and Connor couldn't get into the habit of being a morning person. He'll rise because there was a job to be done, but that didn't mean he had to get use to it, much less appreciate it as some others did.

Great, his mind was racing, and that meant it would ramble a string of thoughts and worries and deprive him of any last second slumber. Groaning, he pushed himself off his pillow and swung his legs down, his bare feet landing softly against the all too-cold floor. He grimaced, the sensation having sent a noticeable chill that rushed his legs and sent tiny spikes up into his spine. If that wouldn't get him up, coffee would do the trick.

Connor got ready in a blur that his mind hadn't bothered to record. Clothes, phone, tablet... he walked out to only walk back in for his access card and watch. Only to walk back in again when he realized his feet felt strangely humid in his shoes because missing socks would cause that. He huffed his annoyance, mostly at himself; in his 30s and he could barely function in the early morning. He ran out as soon as his laces tightened and managed a quick stop for an extra hot cup of coffee. Make that two, as he awkwardly juggled the tablet under his arm while maintaining the balance of the extra cup of coffee for one in particular.

Because true to form as Connor entered, he saw Alon looking like shit despite appearances. A few weeks of getting to know the other ATHENA personnel, Alon was the only one so far that amused him and envied somewhat. He looked tired, possibly hung over, which wasn't surprising as Alon had never hid the fact he was curious of the town. Connor put the cup of coffee in front of Alon, giving a simple nod in greeting and took his seat close by. He dropped his table unceremoniously on the table in favor of holding his warm coffee cup with both hands and savored the life saving brew. Connor sat back, visibly relieved as he nursed his drink and awaited the upcoming news.

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

How long he's been here? A year? More? He forgot after about a year. He almost didn't count anymore, though in reality he counted, just barely caring about it. His father probably put him here, though to be honest there isn't really any threats for the Quds beside ISIS. But ISIS itself is also not that concerning anymore, just those few people who called themselves as "ISIS" now. ISIS is a threat of a past.

He heard about briefing room, and so he headed there. He probably wouldn't know anyone there, but that's a lie. He's been there for a year and more, and what's more there are Muslims here as well though not by much. He has few Muslims friends, male and female. Life's been good, sporadically returned to Iran for awhile.

[Terranihil]

;

[Brusia]

Dr. Edward Gordon

Unlike many others in the base, Dr. Gordon was already wide awake when the announcement came in over the intercom. He'd been up all night in the research lab struggling to develop a vaccine for an alien virus that had begun to spread through parts of South America. Whether the virus was engineered, or merely an unavoidable byproduct of the introduction of a species from another world on Earth's ecosystem, no one really knew; and in the end it probably didn't really matter. What did matter was that people were starting to get sick, and it was up to Edward and people like him to stop this disease before it turned into the worst plague to hit South America since Smallpox.

Unfortunately however, there were no breakthroughs in the preceding night, leaving Edward somewhat agitated when the order came in to meet in the briefing room at 0530. "Damn" Edward thought as he looked down at his watch "Looks like I won't be getting any shut-eye this morning. Guess coffee's going to have to do the trick again..." After securing his research equipment, Edward made his way to the dining hall and grabbed a cup of coffee before proceeding to the briefing room. Once inside, he took a seat in one of the empty chairs and choked down a large gulp of his beverage as he waited for the meeting to begin.

[Chedastan]

LSgt. Jodie 'Marie' Jackson

Jodie was still getting herself used to Geneva's timezone when the call for the detailed briefing came suddenly to her team's attention, though with recent events, it was hardly sudden if not rather dreadfully expected. She at least remembered to get herself into proper uniform in time around for once after joining ATHENA, but her eyelids continued to protest being wide opened, and she already lost count of how many times she had rubbed them this morning alone to persuade them awake. At least the coffee at HQ came from fresher local sources, none of that processed crap she and her previous men endured with while in some god forsaken frozen or scorching desert, that in it of itself was a nice change she welcomed.

She was at least happy to see she didn't had to remind any of her team to get themselves ready and present for the briefing, though she expected as much from specifically chosen and experienced individuals, she shouldn't had to babysit them like the poor Greens that were dumped to her former squad periodically. As she walked into the room with everyone else that was called or was already there, she approached the Commander and gave a dutiful salute to him, "Fireteam Aiguillette present and accounted for, Sir." Right before taking seat quietly with the rest of her team.

[Erucia]

Cpl. Elias Naylor
Fireteam AIGUILLETTE - 0437 hrs

Elias had always been a morning person - at least, for as long as he could remember. But an early wake up could bring a groggy start to the day for anyone, and it seemed that Fireteam Aiguillette was no exception. As everyone else began to force themselves through their motions, Eli glanced at the almost-archaic alarm clock at the bedside: "0437." Only 30 minutes early, that wasn't too bad - and he didn't have to be in the briefing for another hour.

He had promised himself he would make an effort to connect with his fellows here: this was his new home, after all. But Eli didn't know much about his current fireteam; he happened to wonder if his constant 0500 sharp alarms were a little much for some of them. Perhaps he would ask them later. Three years in ATHENA had seen a surprisingly-unstable structure for the two fireteams, as many of the older members phased out due to age. Azim - the Iranian - had been around for a year less than Eli had, and both Bellmont and Jackson were fairly new.

Thoughts about the Hostage Rescue Team still came to mind, though: he pondered whether ATHENA had been the right choice, standing before one of a row of sink with an electric razor whirring in his hand. Three years of relaxed readiness had gone by, largely spent wondering whether there would ever be a need for the services of such an organization. At least the message of Plan 9 was validating, that their time had finally come to act on their purpose. It was a good feeling, but Eli felt a tinge that he couldn't quite place that came with it.

By the time 5:30 had rolled around, Elias was in the conference rom with the rest of the team. Like the rest, he had saluted upon entry and now kept silent. Lead Sergeant Jackson's entrance would hopefully usher in the start of the briefing.

[Tiltjuice]

ATHENA Center - Briefing
11 June 2174

The electronic lock buzzed once more as the two men and three women of Fireteam Iridescent filed in, followed by Trevor Holmes, the former NYPD sniper. Commander Beaumont turned, having just finished given the others a crisp "Good morning" and an answering salute to Line Sergeant Jackson. Good tidings were coming out of Intelligence about Connor - or so Natasha said - and Alon was quite easy to work alongside, despite the preponderance of Americans in the field force. Dr Gordon, too, was quite driven, and he respected the American WMD specialist - especially for responding so quickly.

"Good, thank you all for coming. Let's get into things then. First - I believe you all know Aspirant Holmes from Fireteam Falchion; he and his colleagues were kind enough not only to take up this week's weapons cleaning and maintenance rotation in the Arsenal, but to plan out a room clearing and field medicine drill, with an invitation to Dr Gordon to take part. So, thank you for that.

Now, as theoretical as it may have sounded before, Ambassador Maddox reached out to me with orders to put Plan Nine into play. He indicated that the advance guard of an alien invasion force have knocked out most of British Forces Falkland Islands and torn the Argentines a new arsehole. Based on that, the various powers that be at the UN Security Council have tried raising their Antarctic research stations. No word back from any of those, either. Having established that Earth is now under threat from extraterrestrial invasion, we're to mobilize."

Beaumont's pale green eyes moved across each of them. "We'll be taking the lead on the counterattack. Keep the aliens rocked back while the world builds up a defence, each country for itself. No doubt we'll see volunteers coming in later - but that's for later. For right now, the first job is to get yourselves down to the Falklands. Ambassador Maddox passed along a joint request from the UK and Argentina. The Royal Navy and Marines are already standing up a force to retake the Falklands for the second time. Your job - Aiguillette and Iridescent - is to neutralize the radar array at Goose Green. How is up to you, depending on local conditions. Destroy it, shut it down by other means, to leave it unusable for the aliens."

He turned to the three civilians. "Mr Tessasohn, Mr Flores. You'll be going with them, to collect information and scavenge any technology. Dr Gordon, will you be free for this mission? If so, you are of course welcome to join. I've already called down to the flight crews for both Skyrangers. As always, you all enjoy a great deal of freedom in how you plan your missions, so long as you carry them out. Both aircraft, remember, are V/STOL-capable in addition to a traditional landing. Therefore, you could paradrop over water from Skyranger 2 and take a raiding boat over to Darwin Harbour in a stealth approach, or make a combat landing at Goose Green Airstrip for a shorter journey. The latter will likely be under fire, so perhaps Skyranger 1 might be better. No matter which you choose, however, both Skyrangers remain available for your entry and exit, and Aspirant Holmes will see to your choices of equipment and weaponry."

[Grenartia]

Cpl. Sam Carter
Barracks, 0440 hours

Sam had been up for about an hour now. She didn't know why, she only ever got 6 or so hours of sleep a night, and that was generally all she needed, at least with the assistance of caffiene. She'd been sitting in her bed, playing video games when the call came.

"Confirming Plan 9. I repeat. Plan 9 is now in effect. Immediate response to Aiguillette and Iridescent. Detailed briefing at 0530. Brocade is to stand Day watch." said the unit's commander, one Commander Beaumont. She hadn't been here long enough to get to know everyone personally, but she'd been introduced to everyone, including the Commander, and he seemed like a decent enough guy. She glanced at the time. 0440, just enough time to collect her things and grab some chow.

0520

She spent half an hour getting her things ready for the briefing, and had spent the last 10 minute in line at the mess hall. Ridiculous, she thought. What is this, some sort of feast day? All I want is two waffles, some ham and cheese, some strawberry jam, some damn hot sauce, and some fucking coffee. Finally, though, she managed to get her food and stuff it down. It sounded a little strange, but it was the guaranteed wakeup meal that had been passed down her family for 167 years, and it tasted damn good, gave you a nice jolt to wake you up, and satisfied you until lunch. A warrior's meal.

0529

After finishing her breakfast, she managed to get to the briefing room just before the doors closed. She listened as the Commander gave his briefing. Sounded like something out of an old sci-fi B movie. Alien invasion. She wondered what their objective was. There wasn't anything on Earth that couldn't be gotten elsewhere for less effort. Apparently, they were heading for the Falklands, to take out the upper atmospheric radar facility there. And then she realized the Commander hadn't given any details on their combat capabilities.

"Excuse me, Commander, I have a question." She asked, raising her hand.

[Tiltjuice]

ATHENA Center

Beaumont took a moment to remember the details of Sam's recommendation. US Air Force Special Tactics. Officer and operator. Survival skills in a variety of environments and leadership ability proven during ten years' worth of covert operations.

"Go ahead, Carter," he replied, lifting his chin slightly by way of encouragement and respect to her own experience, and Holmes and Quentin both shifted in their seats at the same time, Holmes leaning forward slightly while Quentin straightened out, looking for all the world like someone had just put a back brace on her. Was that stiffness professional courtesy? Most likely; though it might have also been curiosity, since Fireteams A and I had never been in the field, or even drilled, with each other before. But as for Holmes...the tall, broad-shouldered American was onto taking notes for what kinds of gear the teams might want, pencil at the ready.

[Grenartia]

ATHENA Center

Beaumont took a moment to remember the details of Sam's recommendation. US Air Force Special Tactics. Officer and operator. Survival skills in a variety of environments and leadership ability proven during ten years' worth of covert operations.

"Go ahead, Carter," he replied, lifting his chin slightly by way of encouragement and respect to her own experience, and Holmes and Quentin both shifted in their seats at the same time, Holmes leaning forward slightly while Quentin straightened out, looking for all the world like someone had just put a back brace on her. Was that stiffness professional courtesy? Most likely; though it might have also been curiosity, since Fireteams A and I had never been in the field, or even drilled, with each other before. But as for Holmes...the tall, broad-shouldered American was onto taking notes for what kinds of gear the teams might want, pencil at the ready.

"Thank you, sir." She started out, before continuing. "Do we know what their combat capabilites are, like air superiority, ground forces, anything like that? What about physical weaknesses? Anything that we need to look out for, or that could give us an edge?"

She knew from the briefing so far that the Argies and Brits had been beaten back pretty far, but somebody had to have survived and reported something useable. If nothing else, at least a physical description of ET could help indicate any weak spots.

[Tiltjuice]

Beaumont steepled his fingers, lying his arms down across the tabletop.

"Our best information comes from a party of Argentine survivors of a delaying action. Being rocket artillery crews, they were further away from the front and managed to scatter, to escape into the Bolivian desert. From there, they contacted Bolivian high command via satellite phone from a park ranger station warning them of alien incursion, that they were abandoning their weaponless vehicles, and would join up with the nearest Bolivian military station. They indicated - and the Bolivians passed this onto the UN Security Council via all our ambassadors - that the aliens they encountered were of two varieties. One humanoid, like what you'd expect to see out of a Hollywood production. Little green men, armed with energy blades, very fast; and taller, bird-like aliens carrying energy weapons. Their tactics seem to center on annihilation, and so they put a premium on large-scale battle. Their expertise lies in that arena, according to the Argentines. Their air force was gone within a day and a half and larger army formations didn't last much longer. Which poses another possible advantage for us. As operators skilled in small unit action, we may be able to push them off balance by fighting in a way they aren't used to.

We've had no solid intel from the Falklands.

Any other questions?"

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

"Our best information comes from a party of Argentine survivors of a delaying action. Being rocket artillery crews, they were further away from the front and managed to scatter, to escape into the Bolivian desert. From there, they contacted Bolivian high command via satellite phone from a park ranger station warning them of alien incursion, that they were abandoning their weaponless vehicles, and would join up with the nearest Bolivian military station. They indicated - and the Bolivians passed this onto the UN Security Council via all our ambassadors - that the aliens they encountered were of two varieties. One humanoid, like what you'd expect to see out of a Hollywood production. Little green men, armed with energy blades, very fast; and taller, bird-like aliens carrying energy weapons. Their tactics seem to center on annihilation, and so they put a premium on large-scale battle. Their expertise lies in that arena, according to the Argentines. Their air force was gone within a day and a half and larger army formations didn't last much longer. Which poses another possible advantage for us. As operators skilled in small unit action, we may be able to push them off balance by fighting in a way they aren't used to.

Any other questions?"

Cpl. Ali Hassan 'Eagle' Azim
ATHENA Program

Ali heard the answer carefully. It is as if that the aliens had better weaponry, even when the humanity already developed for a better world and better technologies in the past century and 70 years. Energy weapons, large-scale battle, their weapons far outmatched them no matter how strong they are. Such is apocalypse, if this is an apocalypse one. Of course, if questions are allowed again which is yes, he can asks something.

He decided not to, with limited intel on the current enemies except for the already revealed ones.

[Highfort]

Alon took that as his moment to step up.

"Komandir Beaumont," he waved the stylus to catch the commander's attention and cleared his throat. The diplomacy training he'd been given would come in handy after all.

"Being that we do not have much... razvedyvatel'nyy. How you say? Uh... recon, yes," he scratched his head, "We could deploy scouting drones to Goose Green beforehand. Chelomey sent a few with me - as gifts for ATHENA - and my comrades in engineering have made some... modifications to them. Should be more silent, and durable. Perfect time to test them out."

Pulling up schematics for the drones on his tablet, he stepped forward and offered the device to Peter. The drones were no larger than a small dog and appeared sleek and spherical; a cage frame prevented damage on heavy impact and a gyroscope design surrounding the center of the sphere ensured stable, smooth flight. The schematics highlighted propulsion, done via a turbofan engine, with steering done by directing the output to different exhaust ports on the drone.

"Only with your permission, of course," he added.

[Chedastan]

ATHENA Center - Briefing
LSgt. Jodie 'Marie' Jackson

The Line Sergeant had some of her own questions herself to ask the Commander, especially considering she was in charge of Fireteam Aiguillette once they are on the ground, she had some harbored doubts that she kept internally about the situation however, but something of a optimistic feeling she still deeply held within her suggested that she remained steadfast and strong in the face of possible calamity. Though it seemed the worse was only getting started on this blue ball of theirs.

"Commander, with all due respect I am rather surprised the area we're deploying to hasn't been managed to have been more scouted out accordingly after the Argentines fell back, we need to know how many of the X-Rays we're dealing with in the immediate area. And with that knowledge accompanied by what we know the of terrain, then we can make a more accurate decision of where to insert ourselves. Preferably where we are least likely to get our fireteams in harm's way straight off the bat." Jodie added after Alon's suggestion of using drones to scout.

[Tiltjuice]

ATHENA Center

"Thank you, Mr Flores," Beaumont said, and thought.

The decision itself was fairly easy; no decent commander sent troops without scouting the area first. "Goose Green being in the Falklands, you'll all be dealing primarily with hills and mountains, terrain-wise. The area immediately around the radar site that is your target is between 0 and 50 meters' height. With not much of value on the islands to occupying forces of any kind except for the radar itself, I don't expect heavy opposition. Things can of course always change on the ground, and I agree with you that the drones can be tested in the field, Mr Flores, Sergeant Jackson. However, this means an additional delay while we reprogram the drones for...other inputs. Corporals, has Aspirant Holmes trained you on how to use the Integrated Helmet's sensory options?"

Quentin shook her head. "Negative, Commander."

"All right, then. Doctor Gordon, I believe you have the floor. Holmes, dismissed. Please assemble kit for three Infantry, two Assaulters, two Demolitionists, two Scouts, and one Medic; and a dozen suits."

The big sniper disappeared without a word, as surprisingly smoothly and silently as a waiter in a fancy restaurant.

[Brusia]

Dr. Edward Gordon

Edward paid close attention to the Commander during the briefing, and nodded when he was invited to take part in the room clearing and field medicine drill. As the briefing continued, his interest was particularly piqued when the Falklands were mentioned, as there were some reports that may have been where the virus originated. He'd jump at the chance to get samples and learn more about symptoms the virus caused in more advanced stages, plus he'd like to be there to do what he could to help the virus' victims, as well as any soldiers who might be injured during the mission.

After a few questions were asked and answered Beaumont gave him the floor, at which point Edward stood up from his chair and stated: "Thank you Commander, I'd be happy to tag along during the mission; I could use the fresh air, and putting a few X-Rays in the ground would make for a nice change of pace." In a more serious tone he continued: "Now than, as some of you may have heard, a virus of unknown origin has been sweeping through much of South America, and some reports suggest the epicenter may be the Falklands. We know the virus to be alien in origin, but we aren't certain yet if it's naturally occurring or an alien bioweapon; in either case extreme caution will need to be used to avoid infection. Take care not to let your suits get punctured, avoid any corpses we may find, and if you spot any sick civilians do not approach them; just call them out to myself or someone on the team with medical training. If you have any questions about the virus, I'll answer what I can, though what we know about it is still pretty limited at this point. Otherwise, good luck to everyone, and I'll see you on the Skyranger."

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

Cpl. Ali Hassan 'Eagle' Azim
ATHENA Program

He took a sweet amount of time on the selection of explosives. There seems to be many kinds of selections for this one. C4, grenades, anti-personnel, anti-tank, everything ready for deployment. Since the intelligence affirmed the likes of little green-men and bird-like creatures, personnel warfare seems to be the kind of things that they would be involved. In any case, he chose a selections consisted of anti-personnel mines, flash and frag grenades, breaching charges. Two C4, too. But that seems to be too much to be brought on by just one person, and there are two Demolitionists. He picked the battle rifle, H&K 417 A2 and SIG P320 ATHENA for suppressability, reflex sight, and large magazine.

"LSgt. Jackson," as he approached her. Another demolitionists, from America, the land of freedom. Or whatever it was now. "I was thinking that since both of us are the demolitionists in this operation, perhaps we can review our demolitionist strategy once we are on the field based on the available explosives here, and based on the most recent intelligence report. I recommended that we bring anti-personnel warfare, and maybe anti-tank, too, perhaps? I also choose some frag and flashbangs. C4, as well. What about your recommendation, LSgt?"

[Chedastan]

ATHENA Center - Briefing
LSgt. Jodie 'Marie' Jackson

"LSgt. Jackson," ... "I was thinking that since both of us are the demolitionists in this operation, perhaps we can review our demolitionist strategy once we are on the field based on the available explosives here, and based on the most recent intelligence report. I recommended that we bring anti-personnel warfare, and maybe anti-tank, too, perhaps? I also choose some frag and flashbangs. C4, as well. What about your recommendation, LSgt?"

The Line Sergeant noted Ali's question with some thought, then quickly answered after having ejected and reinserted another 5.56 into her magazine,

"Do note Corporal that we are being dropped off either directly or nearby an island that's harboring a radar facility that has a complimentary occupying force garrisoned within. So in light of that, bring enough C4 to topple a support strut to bring the superstructure down, and bring enough leftover to destroy the hardware. We should be in and out before their calvary has the chance to arrive with interceptors, so don't bring more equipment than we'll need, just enough to get the job done and get us out."

She noticed the landmines they had available and contemplated their remote usefulness for a unit of their size, but in her mind she already dismissed the mines as being better off for more static defensive positions or fallback lines for a division sized force than their outfit. "Bring those frags and flashbangs and a breaching charge, and be liberal with them if you need to. If we're zipping in, I want X-Rays to get dropped quickly." She further emphasized by slamming a freshly loaded Stanag into the magazine catch of her carbine.

"We're a bit screwed in the AT department, but the garrison we're dealing with should be light enough." She then pointed out, right after refitting the scope on her familiar feeling M4, which was practically considered ancient by modern times, being the "Mosin Nagant of American Assault Rifles" some current historians would dare say.

[Erucia]

ATHENA's armorers ran on a simple principle: "if it works, don't knock it." Many of ATHENA's guns were staples of the early-to-mid 21st century, proven by gunslingers of all kinds across the world. A few of the less favorable firearms in the armory had seen years of action, and were bestowed to ATHENA after whichever parent unit had first owned the arms phased them out. Elias wasn't sure whether to chalk it up to doctrine on behalf of the organization, or stringy pocketbooks from the suits at the UN.

Whichever it was, a well-trained shooter could put down anything with even a ubiquitous 9mm - perhaps even little green men and oversized avians.

Eli loaded up methodically with his gear alongside the rest of the fireteam. Fire-retardant jacket tucked in and zipped, plate carrier wrapped atop, pouches filled and strapped into webbing: a laundry list of preparations that had been standard for any exercise for the ATHENA operatives. This time though, it'd finally be real.

"Do note Corporal that we are being dropped off either directly or nearby an island that's harboring a radar facility that has a complimentary occupying force garrisoned within. So in light of that, bring enough C4 to topple a support strut to bring the superstructure down, and bring enough leftover to destroy the hardware. We should be in and out before their calvary has the chance to arrive with interceptors, so don't bring more equipment than we'll need, just enough to get the job done and get us out.

"Bring those frags and flashbangs and a breaching charge, and be liberal with them if you need to. If we're zipping in, I want X-Rays to get dropped quickly. We're a bit screwed in the AT department, but the garrison we're dealing with should be light enough."

"Lead Sergeant, ma'am," Eli piped up, tapping at the Scorpion Evo in front of him. "I'm going to have a hard time anywhere outside of two-fifty meters with this, so I'll need to be towards the front. I could bring a smoke with my flashbang to round out the kit, give us something to throw out if we need it."

[Terranihil]

z

[Grenartia]

Corporal Carter walked into the armory, to get her equipment. The standard ATHENA equipment was alright, especially the armor and helmet. She had to take a drone with her, but that's pretty standard. The biggest decision she had to make was weapons. She had her choice of the M1014 shotgun and the CZ Skorpion for primary, and between the GI Model 1, and a variant of the SIG P320 for her sidearm. She also had to choose 2 grenades from flashbangs, smoke, and frags.

The shotty would definitely give her sufficient firepower, but the Skorp would allow her to carry more ammo. Likewise, the GI Model 1 could definitely be classifed as a handcannon, but the SIG was similar to the standard M17 sidearm back in the States, and had the added advantage of ammo being smaller and easier to carry more of. Decisions...decisions...decisions. She decided to take the shotty and the SIG. She had no clue what kind of punishment Echo Tango could stand up to, but she doubted they could simply shrug off a 12 gauge to the face.

After that had been sorted out, she overheard the other members of the team discussing their loadout.

ATHENA's armorers ran on a simple principle: "if it works, don't knock it." Many of ATHENA's guns were staples of the early-to-mid 21st century, proven by gunslingers of all kinds across the world. A few of the less favorable firearms in the armory had seen years of action, and were bestowed to ATHENA after whichever parent unit had first owned the arms phased them out. Elias wasn't sure whether to chalk it up to doctrine on behalf of the organization, or stringy pocketbooks from the suits at the UN.

Whichever it was, a well-trained shooter could put down anything with even a ubiquitous 9mm - perhaps even little green men and oversized avians.

Eli loaded up methodically with his gear alongside the rest of the fireteam. Fire-retardant jacket tucked in and zipped, plate carrier wrapped atop, pouches filled and strapped into webbing: a laundry list of preparations that had been standard for any exercise for the ATHENA operatives. This time though, it'd finally be real.

"Do note Corporal that we are being dropped off either directly or nearby an island that's harboring a radar facility that has a complimentary occupying force garrisoned within. So in light of that, bring enough C4 to topple a support strut to bring the superstructure down, and bring enough leftover to destroy the hardware. We should be in and out before their calvary has the chance to arrive with interceptors, so don't bring more equipment than we'll need, just enough to get the job done and get us out.

"Bring those frags and flashbangs and a breaching charge, and be liberal with them if you need to. If we're zipping in, I want X-Rays to get dropped quickly. We're a bit screwed in the AT department, but the garrison we're dealing with should be light enough."

"Lead Sergeant, ma'am," Eli piped up, tapping at the Scorpion Evo in front of him. "I'm going to have a hard time anywhere outside of two-fifty meters with this, so I'll need to be towards the front. I could bring a smoke with my flashbang to round out the kit, give us something to throw out if we need it."

"Are we even sure flashbangs are effective against ET? Personally, I'm bringing two smokes. Willy Pete is a very versatile substance, you know." She quipped to her fellow corporal.

[Tiltjuice]

The basement levels of ATHENA HQ were large, cavernous chambers. The largest, naturally, held the twin Skyranger hangars and the supply storage for the whole base, up to three months' supply.

But the armory fell not far behind; the entirety of Basement 1 had been dug out as a single gigantic room, and then split off like one of those geometry puzzles. One large square, separated by soundproof walls into a square and two wide rectangles. The range, the armory, and the gym. Racks and racks of weapons, explosives, and other equipment stretched out into the darkness - and darkness it was, as Holmes hadn't flicked on the lights on the left and right. Only the center stayed lit up, where he'd pulled together 12 sets of everything and piled it on a cart. Packs, armor, helmets, ammunition, knives, two sets of explosives and a pair of drones.

"Are we even sure flashbangs are effective against ET? Personally, I'm bringing two smokes. Willy Pete is a very versatile substance, you know." She quipped to her fellow corporal.

"Carson and Pelletier stopped trying to outdo each other's times on the shoot house long enough to scrounge up a handful of thermites. Marked 'em with the black and red tape there on the other side of the cart, too, so you don't get mixed up with the other ones. Flashbangs they spray-painted white. Willy Petes got the white paint and WP written on them in Sharpie besides. Signal smokes got a strip of duct tape and pink Sharpie cross-hatching. HE/frags are plain. Buy 'em a drink at the Alibi, up on the 5th floor, for all that, would ya? Making 'em go to the pub would be a damn sight better than having to listen to them jaw about who can shoot off faster again."

The big sniper glanced down at the rest of them, pausing for a moment on Skylar - and the South African flag under the 'ATHENA' scroll on the arm of her uniform - somewhat curiously. "It'd be a decent way to unwind after you all get back, too."

It was obvious he wished he was going, but nothing more was said about that. Instead, there was only the sounds of Iridescent, loading up their own packs with magazines and grenades, and gearing up in general. Like Aiguillette, they'd mostly gone for closer-range weapons, trick 'nades, and a mix of pistols. The one exception was Yang, who'd instead taken up the battle rifle, the .50 hand cannon and a pair of frags. They stayed mostly silent, too. The only one to break the silence was the British woman, who held out a helmet much like the one she wore to Carter.

"Here," she said in a voice that practically screamed Northeastern Irish!!!. Then, much slower and a little metallically, as if she'd been called out on speaking in a rush and dropping half her syllables: "Have you used one of these before? If not, I can help you during the flight."

The elevator doors at the front of the hallway dinged as they opened. Both sets of pilots had come down to pick up their own self-defense weapons, wilderness survival gear and WMD protection. One thing about Athena - they might not know exactly what to expect, but they valued everyone.

"The Old Man said you all are heading to the Falklands this morning. Have you decided which one of us is active and which one is playing backup and/or distraction?" A tall, black-haired man with 'HAYES' on his flight suit. "And your choice of insertion point? Falchion has the auto-inflating raft on standby in the hangar - just need to know if they need to load it, in case you guys are bailing out over water and taking the quiet route. Not that we mind going in hot."

One of the other two men raised both eyebrows, but said nothing. This one shorter but considerably stronger-looking, with a French flag on the unfastened helmet he wore; which made him Major Villeneuve, commander of Skyranger 1.

[Highfort]

Alon assembled his own equipment quietly in the corner of the armory. The Soviet engineer wasn't one for witty banter, and anyways the fire teams getting suited up weren't his peers. They existed in a different realm that he was merely tagging along in to get a better look at the aliens.

He strapped the standard-issue helmet to his head, sweat already beginning to form around his ears. A small smile graced his face as he noted that his own armor vest came with a Soviet Union patch. The involved countries had spared no expense in outfitting the unit, even going so far as to ensure proper gear for the eggheads who weren't supposed to be going out into the field.

He liked that.

The P320 went in its holster; Alon forwent arming himself with some of the larger weapons. He wasn't much good with anything beyond a pistol, anyways.

The rappelling and survival gear made him a little nervous. Ama had taken him camping when he was little, but after getting promoted to head of urban planning his father hadn't spent much time out of the city - and neither had he. But then again, SIG-Sauer guns were reliable; he could just put a bullet in his head if he was stranded and the aliens were closing in on him.

Hopefully it didn't come to that.

After gearing himself up, he headed to the carts in the center to do a quick check on the drones. All the systems looked good, and the gyroscopes were properly set and lubed. Alon wasn't much of a praying man, but he struggled to remember a few odd verses from when his mother took him to church, muttering them beneath his breath. Eastern Orthodox priests were so boring; their beards, though, those were fun to tug at when they didn't yell at you.

The questions from Hayes piqued his attention, and he looked up from the carts, "I would recommend quiet route. We need time to scout out the radar site; don't want to attract attention before the drones drop in."