NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is just me and two Republic members. One is Marionetonia, and the other is yet to be decided. Essentially, it's a raid staged by the Kingdom of the Sovereign (formerly the Starfederation), on an outlying Republic colony. The ships and whatnot aren't marked, nor are the troops. They're there to take prisoners and information, as much as they can get. In response, there's two Republic Legions there (each of which are six thousand men, with some light artillery, armour, and air support), one of which is Marionetonian, and the other.. well, yeah, it's yet to be decided.

Mar, if you could name your Legion (from 1st to 420th, whatever number and nickname you want), and get ready to RP, I'd be much obliged.

IC: In the depths of space, two ships waited. One was a cruiser - the other a troop transport. They had been waiting for weeks, now. Twenty-two thousand men, and equipment, and enough orbital support to give them the victory they so desired. It was a simple enough goal. Move in, activate the inhibition field they had online on the cruiser, to stop them sending a message off.

The Order desired prisoners. The Republic was a potential enemy, and a powerful one, at that. To understand how they worked - how their equipment worked, would be a powerful advantage to their soldiery in battle.

The Fireblade and the Bloodsong sat in the nebula they had remained in, waiting. Soon enough, the frigate there would leave. It had delivered something to the planet's surface.. they weren't sure what. But, when it did, they would strike. They had a few weeks, by their estimation. This was only a colony would. It would suffice...

"We are set to enter the system, domine," the commtech reported after a brief exchange with the colony's regional authority; a brief formality, since the 421st Legion was scheduled to arrive for on-world training.

"Bene." Titus Domitius, Legatus of the 421st, nodded at the Navarch of the 421st's conveyance, the Semiramis fast frigate/transport. Longer than a gunship but armed with only a single hefty railcannon turret and four point-defense autocannons (think Phalanx CIWS), the Semiramis skimmed towards the planet on her powerful ramjet impulse drive.

The 6000 recruits of the 421st were fresh out of boot camp on Graviter, one of several heavy-gravity worlds throughout Neo-Roman territory used by the Praetorium to bulk up their soldiers' strength and endurance. They were en route to a backwater colony in the new Republic their government had just joined, to rendezvous with an existing Republic legion for field exercises, war games, and wilderness survival training.

Before long, the Semiramis had maneuvered into geosynchronous orbit. The 421st had since packed up their gear and loaded into their dropships by century. 30 transport skimmers were also loaded into their own dropship. Capable of carrying a squad of 12 Marines each, the skimmers were there if needed, but for the purposes of the exercise the legion would be slogging most of its way overland, in full combat gear.

1200 local time saw the first dropships touching down in the local spaceport.

The Republic's Fightin' 45th was mostly a Marionetonian legion, and it showed in the group's strict discipline and intollerance of even the slightest failure. Outsiders considered them pompous and nitpicky--until they had to go into battle against these guys. Then, the Marionetonian credo of Victory or Death made any opposition realize what all the perfectionism was about. The whole crew was trained to think on their feet, and the junior officers were given great lattitude and information about battle objectives and tactics. The result was a melding of battle plan and battlefield. The Marionetonians could fade into the crevaces, slip into blind spots in an enemy's defenses, only to emerge a short time later and cause enormous damage in their rapier. They could also stand up and and go toe-to-toe with much more heavily armed opposition.

Their latest assignment was to take some 6000 or so raw recruits, fresh in from Graviter, teach them how to move again now that they were back to normal weight and show them how to fight. Their arrival gift was a pop inspection. From the beginning, it drove the message home that, no matter what forsaken hole in the universe they had been dropped into, there would be no tolerance of lack of discipline, no room for even the most minute of failures. They were going to be trained for war by living as if they were at war. That way, there would be no need to change gears should a conflict pop up.

OOC: For the sake of simplicity, let's assume the planet has two major population centres, no orbital defenses, but plenty of supplies for your troops. You guys can RP the population - it's probably fairer that way. Thus, you decide losses for everything on the planet. If you want some old forts, or perhaps stockpiles of old weaponry - feel free to RP having them, provided that you detail them early-on.

"Commander, the frigate on the planet has left."

"Excellent. I think it may be time to move in."

The two ships set off, screaming out of the nebula they had been hidden in, moving quickly to rip the tiniest hole in space-time, reappearing near the planet.

"Fire!"

Lasers and masers were the stock of the two ships there - two powerful weapons, enough to devastate the few communication satellites there. The twin ships sped towards the planet, preparing to land. It was to be an easy battle. Land near a city, force the inhabitants to surrender, and take them away on the two ships they possessed. Such prisoners would be a valuable bargaining card if the Republic decided to open hostilities with the warring Empire.

There was to be no resistance, obviously. After all - the planet was the tiniest, most outlying part of the Republic. Why would the Republic bother with stationing troops there?

Lieutenant-General Uinlar smiled. His men would have an easy time of it. After all, they were well-trained, had excellent equipment, air support, and five hundred of the bloodthirsty and enigmatic beasts known as Servants of the Sovereign...

OOC:

I'm game. In fact, I'm in SUCH a good mood that I'll even allow the last post even though there was never an "IC" to cancel out the "OOC."

:) :P :)

IC:

"Sir, all our commsats just went dead."

"What?!?! Burns, get some telemetry. If this is a malfunction of somekind--."

Normally, Fort Euryenne, on the North Pole of the planet, was the place where old soldiers got stationed until their careers could wind down, and the night watch was where the oldest of them could sit around and tell stories without the young whippersnappers having to hear any of it. Of course, they did no such thing, and the night shift on "Four Urine" was the closest thing there was to a peaceful spot on the whole planet. This had suited Harry Pierce, third in command of Fort Euryenne, on the North Pole of the planet, just fine. It didn't mean that he was going to be lazy, though.

It was an unusual characteristic of the planet Photoule that her magnetic field was all but nonexistent--thus, it was an easy manner to set up bases at the poles to improve communications around "Planet Pothole."

"No, sir," Burns replied. "You'd better have a look at this. Two ships incoming, with something going hot just before--."

"DAMMIT!" Pierce said. "OK, boys, look sharp! We've got incoming! Get this out at once! We are under attack! All planetary and local defenses to battle stations! Scramble interceptors! This is not a drill!"

"Uh, sir?"

"What, Burns?"

"We don't have any interceptors. They pulled the air force last week for reconditioning."

"OH SH

OOC: And, the planet we're on should probably have a name for easier reference. "The planet" or "the colony" get kinda stale after a while. Whoever posts next can give it some name if they want, cuz my brain's not being too creative right now XD.

Titus Domitius was thoroughly impressed by these veteran Republic troops. He himself was a very experienced soldier, halfway through his third enlistment and a former consular general, an exemplary stern Roman commander. He was raring to bring these six thousand unblooded young men up to speed, and at the same time familiarize himself with the soldiers of this new Republic.

He surveyed them now, rank after rank of white-armored legionaries at attention in the dusty field surrounding the ferrocrete landing field. For noise and sight considerations, the landing field was located ten miles from the city of Janus; not much at all by the standards of Domitius, who was born and bred in the megatropolis of Nova Roma, but still one of the planet's two substantial population centers. He summoned his senior officers and approached the Marionetonians.

Halting a reasonable distance away, he removed his helmet and stood perfectly straight and professional, armored hands clasped behind his back, an imposing figure in his white carb-poly breastplate on top of his dark green greatcoat, the laurel wreath insignia and golden letters SPQR of the Neo-Roman Galactic Republic emblazoned on his shoulder pads. "Fellow Republicans!" he said in a loud clear voice that carried to every man present. "I am Titus Domitius Canus, Legate of the 421st Legion. I desire to speak to your senior officers, and begin our operations immediately."

His finger tapped the map. "Here, commander. Here, and here."

"Yes, Liutenant-General."

Red swirls appeared where his fingers had pierced the hologram, one near a major population centre - 'Janus', and the second two some distance away.

"Commander, I'm relying on you here. I can't lead from the front, because I'm required to direct the attack from my orbital position. We can't provide you with any major orbital support - I can give you minor kinetic strikes, but nothing severe enough to annihilate any significant enemy forces, only enough to cause minor damage. Any laser support would be dispersed by the atmosphere - anything great enough to burn through the atmosphere would cause unnecessary collateral damage."

"Yessir. I understand. A question, though."

"Hm?"

"What am I do to with the.. the Servants?"

"The Servants, commander, are beasts, as I understand, born of some unholy power of the Sovereign. I'm not sure precisely how they work, however, they're susceptible to normal weaponry, and they only engage at close range. However, they seem to be able to bypass walls and whatnot, and are skilled, quiet hunters - I think you'll find them most useful in raiding enemy encampments, should this turn into a siege situation."

"Sir.. isn't the planet supposed to be undefended?"

"Yes, commander. It is. However, I understand that many of the Republic's citizens are quite patriotic about their nation, and, considering their isolation, may have some sort of citizen's militia in operation. I am merely planning for the worst - we must have contigencies in place."

"Ah. What about air support?"

"We've got a few fighters, and a few bombers - enough to give you support should you need it. You'll be shorted on artillery, I'm afraid, although you've got a decent selection of armor. We have a hundred transports - each capable of transporting a hundred men here, which means our initial strikeforce can be composed of no more than ten thousand men. Logistical considerations will be limited by that, and, of course, we're going to need to use our transports to take any prisoners we have back to the ship."

"Very well, sir. So, I shall take an initial contingent of ten thousand?"

"Indeed. Two thousand to be deployed near the city, and two sets of four thousand to be deployed some distance from it, to sweep the area, and ensure its security. Take whatever action you see fit.."

Commander Harin smiled. A set of terms he could understand. "Yessir."

Transports disengaged from the ship, flaming through the sky, radio-jamming blasts of sheer energy dispersed around where they were landing - their courses had been set already; making sure no enterprising citizen with an AA emplacement decided to shoot them down was also important.

Of course, they were going to be dreadfully surprised...

OOC:

@ Leggo:

Before one does the internet equivalent of opening one's mouth, it is sometimes good for one to do the internet equivalent of opening one's eyes. Mind you, I, too, am guilty of the crime in question, but...if you check the post DIRECTLY ABOVE the one with your OOC statement in it, you'll find that a certain great but unknown author ;) took the bull by the horns and named the planet "Photoule." The fact that its inhabitants deridingly refer to it as "planet pothole" is merely a bonus. :) :) :)

IC:

The courier stood before Canus and saluted crisply. His armor, though not particularly flashy, was in a state of finest maintainance, spit-and-polish, and the man had a certain tension about him that marked him as Marionetonian. "Legate Canus, I am Roald Klink, Tribune of the Third Photoule Cohort, communications division. I bear tidings for your urgent consideration."

As Canus returned his salute, he handed the man a small piece of paper with the seal of the Legion.

"What's this about, Klink?" Canus asked.

"We're under attack, sir," Klink replied. "We need to prepare for battle as fast as we can."

All around the planet, the word was rapidly getting out. Sirens blared. Men and women ran, not walked, to the weapons dispersal. Centurions put out the call, Optios sent the message, and Decourions took it up: THIS IS NOT A DRILL! As mechanized units fired their engines, a well-oiled machine turned its electronic eyes to the skies. There weren't many of them, but anti-aircraft batteries went to full alert, and surface-to-air missiles were brought to fully-armed status.

OOC: Yeah, see, I got distracted while I was writing that post and didn't finish it for another couple hours, so yours got in before mine and I didn't notice when I finally posted it. So no need to be condescending.

IC:

Domitius' bushy eyebrows rose as he read the dispatch. "How fortuitous. We shall baptize these young men in the very fires of combat.

"We must link up with your commanding officers and other troops immediately. Janus will be one of their prime targets. We have enough skimmers to begin transport 360 men at a time to positions in or around the city immediately, if necessary."

On cue, the 30 wedge-shaped skimmers rose from their disembarked positions on the landing field and whisked over to where the legionaries were assembled. Each machine sported an autocannon turret, railgun, or rocket pod on its rear, for the purpose of laying down covering fire for disembarking Marines, and could move frighteningly fast on its EM repulsordrives.

"This is the extent of our armor, I'm afraid," Domitius explained to Klink, "but they are damn useful for cross-country and urban combat."

OOC:

I apologisze if I came off as condescending. I didn't intend to. As I pointed out, I, too, am guilty of the crime of not getting all the details from all the posts in many of the threads that I have participated in. No big deal.

IC:

"Give the word," Klink replied, head bowed in respect to his superior officer, "and we will call in our Citizens Reserve and begin improvising, building, anything that we lack."

Domitius was already giving orders over the 421st's tactical tightbeam. The legion's first three centuries loaded up into the transport skimmers and zoomed toward Janus.

"We will occupy the city and fortify it with the help of your Citizens Reserve," he said to Klink. "Impossible to say whether or not the invaders will be willing to completely destroy such a major civilian target to get rid of us, but it's generally unlikely. And they'll have no compunctions about nuking us to death if we're out in the wilderness."

The rest of the legion began a forced double time march toward the city, Domitius and Klink with them. "Do we have any intelligence about how many ships they have in orbit," the Legate continued, "what kind of orbital firepower they have, or air support? How many ground troops, where they are landing? And where is the rest of your 45th? We need to coordinate all these details immediately."

OOC: This is more to make sure everyone's organized, and we're all ready for combat to being OOCly - I'd rather not initiate the attack until people are really ready for it.

Pods hit the ground, leaving massive crater-marks, those who were first out had little time for nicieties such as 'slowing down'. As they slammed into the earth, tanks emerged entire, troops already inside. Five hundred had arrived - within ten kilometres of the city; practically firing range as it was.

They had to act quickly. A slower transport descended from the sky, and settled on the ground around the many craters, an incandescent light spewing forth from it, settling around the troops in the shape of a sphere - a shield. The light dimmed, and it became transparent, the tiniest amount of energy holding each part in place, for the moment. Establishing a beachhead was important, and, as the other two, larger groups came down in similiar matter, that is what they did.

At first, they'd wait. Get established. They had superior space support; they could afford to spend half a day simply digging in, and preparing base camps. Once they were well-established.. well, then they'd attack. Superior numbers, likely superior training, if all that was there were a few civilian militia, and, in all probability, superior weaponry, only meant something if it was all there...

Klink was impressed. That Domitius would even ask a man of his rank about tactical considerations showed that he had studied the Marionetonian structure. He knew that the Marionetonians were a thinking army. This was good. Perhaps there would be time to instill the spirit in the new recruits.

"The first thing they did was knock out our satellites. Before the commsats went down, they picked up two ships. Not much data, except that they weren't as big as you'd expect for someone moving in on a guarded colony. This means that either they've got reinforcements coming, or they don't know about our military presence.

"We took our ground-based sensors passive the moment they came in. That way, they couldn't tell we were scanning them. So far, we've picked up about fifty transports of various sizes, but they're still coming through. Our last intelligence was that the first of them were headed for Janus--which is their first mistake, because that's where our Legion Headquarters is. Mind you, we've got installations all over the planet, but our forces are primarily quartered in the cities."

"Sir!" said a soldier coming up on Klink's six. Where Klink was a thin, slightly built man, this one was stockier, though, as all Marionetonians, he was in top physical condition. He was also older and had darker hair than the strawberry blond locks that Klink sported.

"Schultz!" said Klink. "Good to see you, old friend. What's the word?"

"The first enemy transports have landed, ten to fifteen kilometers south southeast of Janus, SIR!"

"Our response?" asked Klink.

"SIR!" Schultz replied. "The first armored division is primed and ready even as I speak! The Legate of the 45th, who is waiting for us in Janus, asks what time you will need to secure your troops. When you're ready, we launch, SIR!"

"Good. I take it that the Civies have been activated?"

"Sir! Yes, SIR!"

"Good. We'll teach these barbarians to mess with the Republic yet."

-------------------------------

OOC:

If they're only ten kilometers from Janus, my first instinct was to engage them immediately with all of Janus' armor while the defenders have a de facto numerical advantage. Of course, this would run right into the teeth of the HT's air superiority--but it wouldn't be long before Janus' air defenses were engaged, too. I'm not doing that because I'd like to coordinate the first part of the battle.

Anybody want to TG me, or should we start up an OOC thread (maybe even use the thread on the Republic's BBS)? Anything?

OOC: If we need an OOC thread, we might start one. But there's only the three of us - and using the Republic's forums could work just as well. If you feel the need for one, start it, and we'll use it. I'm not convinced that we need one, so...

If you want to attack, though, go ahead. It really is open season at this point, so it's more important just to clearly state what you're doing so no-one gets confused, and

IC: "Lieutenant, I want a report, stat! Is the 415th Artillery Brigade in place?"

"Yessir! We've got initial bubble-shields up, and we're preparing to get the artillery prepared to fire. Enemy fire may take down the bubble-shields, but the 415th is well-prepared to take down whatever may come our way."

"Good. I want a team of aerial recon scouts sent out - get us a count of any enemy defenses that there may be."

With that, Lieutenant Goltar saluted, and Major-General Olint smiled. In command of the Third Combined Division, he, along with Major-General Tenato, who commanded the Eighth Armoured Division, would direct this campaign. Of course, it was his ten thousand who had landed.

Tenato would be landing once his division was reinforced, along with the 611th Armoured Division.

He tapped a nearby touchpad, and a list of the troops he had sprung up.

Group Alpha:
33rd Infantry Brigade
34th Infantry Brigade

Alpha was the closest to Janus, and would take the brunt of the enemy fire, if there was any. Alpha was composed of his finest fightingmen, those who had been in combat many times before. Of course, both brigades were reasonably mechanized, as were all infantry units of such type.

Group Beta:
415th Artillery Brigade
55th Infantry Brigade
56th Infantry Brigade
8th Armored Brigade

Group Delta:
43rd Engineering Brigade
3rd 'Skylions' Fighter Wing
4th 'Blood and Terror' Bomber Wing
417th Artillery Brigade
57th Infantry Brigade

Beta and Delta were both a reasonable distance from Janus - Beta was settling in their artillery, which would be used to bombard any enemy attempts to attack them, and had a single armored unit that would be held in reserve, in order to be able to respond to any position's distress quickly. The Two infantry brigades were the greener men - they had not seen combat before, so they would be used to reinforce Alpha periodically, in order to make every man a veteran without throwing thousands of green men into what could be a meatgrinder.

And Delta was support. A fighter and bomber wing, an engineering brigade to help them dig in, and an infantry unit to protect Delta's position. It wasn't ideal, of course, but he didn't know the enemy strength, nor their intent. No, they had two or three weeks, they'd estimated. A few spies had given them that much, at least, and a month at most. Wasting a day to determine the strength of the enemy was hardly a crime.

The bubble shield withstood its first "test" as a Marionetonian "across the bow" shot blew up on the side of it that was farthest from Janus, after sailing just precisely over it.

A message came through the air from a nearby tank.

"ATTENTION UNIDENTIFIED FORCES. YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON REPUBLIC TERRATORY. DROP YOUR WEAPONS, CEASE YOUR LANDING ACTIVITIES AND PREPARE FOR INSPECTION. ANY ATTEMPT TO RESIST WILL LEAD TO IMMEDIATE, SEVERE REPERCUSSIONS."

As the message continued to play, two armored units took up flanking positions on the first landing, going over the heavy brush in the area. Going through the brush was light infantry, slinking in to offer stealth support. The invaders didn't know it, but Janus had a volley of SAMs ready to go in case the landing craft continued.

Upon their arrival in Janus, the entire manpower of the 421st was thrown behind the fortification effort. Building materials, and a few buildings themselves, were piled up in all of the roads leading into Janus but a few, to force any invading enemy into choke points. Side streets were systematically blocked off to create a complicated maze that enemy troops would have to work their way through if they penetrated the perimeter, while constantly under attack from hidden ambush locations and strong points that were mapped out and stocked with whatever heavy weapons and ammunition were designated. Heavier railguns and machine guns than what the Roman Marines carried were dragged out of the 45th's armory and placed in camouflaged locations where the maze funneled enemy infantry into designated killing fields. The Marines' handheld models had the advantage of being easily portable, but couldn't match the firepower of the stationary guns, although they came respectably close.

Domitius kept his forces on rotating shifts. Whatever units were not working at the moment were run through rigorous close-combat drills. Janus Central Square rang with rhythmic shouts as the Marines swept endlessly through their sword katas, punctuated with the clash of polysteel on polysteel from sparring partners.

"Close combat is where we are best equipped to overwhelm the enemy, if they penetrate the city," Domitius explained to the senior officers of the 45th outside the Legion Headquarters. "Body armor designed to stop bullets or beams is not proof against these." He drew his own blade, a meter-long bastard sword; as an officer, he was entitled to a personal weapon different from the standard-issue gladii wielded by ordinary Marines. The Legate pressed a small button on the grip below the hilt, and the blade emitted a tiny high-pitched whine and began to vibrate too finely to be seen. "These will slice through solid concrete like paper. Human flesh will provide no resistance. The narrow streets will give us ample opportunities to cut down their infantry columns from ambush. For the moment, we keep alert and see what happens with your armored battalions."

"Sir, a message has been sent through. Should I relay it?"

"Is it a desire to surrender?"

"..nossir."

"Don't relay it. And don't reply. They know we're here. Any of our communication protocols could be crossreferenced with other data they have on the Starfederation to lead the attack back to us. I know we've been fired on - I want landing stopped momentarily."

"Why?"

"They're bluffing, no doubt. But if we appear to be going along with it, we may be able to lure the enemy out into open ground - open ground where we can use our full air support, orbital support, and every last damn piece of artillery we have. I want this affair finished up quickly."

"Yessir."

"Oh, and get every man armed, and the 8th Armored prepared to move between all three positions. If we come under fire, I want both aerial wings in the air and firing. If they've got artillery, we're not going to be caught unprepared."

"Yessir!"

Olint smiled. It had been too long. Far, far too long. Ten thousand men, and a war to fight. The Starfederation had, admittedly, had its upsides. But they'd never gone to war, not really. And never like this.

"Prep tac-nukes, Lieutenant. I want to make our.. determination clear."

"..they may cause collateral damage in the city nearby, sir."

"No, no. These are shaped tac-nukes. Provided that the bubble-shields hold out, sir.. we'll be able to clear away all cover nearby with utter ease. A spherical kilometre or so of irradiated, burning ground makes for an excellent killing-ground..."

Through mere field glasses, Legate Robert Hogan surveyed the battlefield. His men had dug him a bunker with typical Marionetonian efficiency, and he now had a good, close seat from which to watch the event.

"They've halted their landing, but they're not responding to our message," said Tribune Peter Newkirk, who spoke with a slight accent.

"I noticed that, too. Almost as if they don't want us to know who they are, isn't it?"

"What do you make of it, sir?"

"I don't like it. In history, as recounted in The Prince, Macciavelli's exemplar, Lorenzo De Medici, faced a rebellion amongst his ranks. He used silence to confuse them. We will not be so confused.

"Alright, Tribune. Since they won't talk to us over a long distance, let's send out a little party to get to know 'em up close and personal. Prepare a detachment of three tanks. Send them just to the edge of the landing area, weapons ready. Give our guests another bow shot, but order them not to fire directly upon the enemy unless first fired upon."

"But, Legate, if those units come under fire..."

"Then they'll die warriors' deaths, and their names will be revered in our Great Hall so long as Marionetonia stands."

"Aye, Legate."

"...and we shall avenge them. Big time."

Within ten minutes, three crews had been chosen from the volunteers, and were brought to the edge of the clearing, turrets armed and ready. Another bow shot was fired.

---------------------------------

OOC:

Yes. Marionetonian Legates read Macciavelli. You got a problem with that?

:) :) :)

Domitius and his senior officers were watching events outside the city unfold from their sensor monitors within the Legion Headquarters. The sense of waiting gnawed at the Legate; he wanted the situation to progress to its next step, be it combat or the withdrawal of the foreign troops. Of course, being a military man, his preference leaned towards the former. The impulse to sheath his blade in the unresisting flesh of an enemy soldier's body was like an itch in the back of his mind.

"Domine." Domitius turned his eyes from the sensor monitors to the young Tribune Aurelianus standing before him. "The fortification of the city is complete. 1st through 9th Cohorts have taken up their positions as assigned. 10th Cohort is supervising the evacuation of civilians to the shelters beneath the city, although several thousand have chosen to take up arms themselves and fight beside our Marines."

Domitius nodded. He'd seen evidence of the fierce patriotism of the Photoulian citizens in the fervor of the Citizens Reserve. "Organize them into auxilia regiments and hold them in reserve. Get the rest of the non-fighting civilians to shelter and get the 10th to its positions." He looked at the tactical map on the monitor, displaying friendly troops in blue and the invaders' entrenchments as a line of purple dots and symbols. The three blue triangles approaching the purple mass looked very small indeed. "These invaders will not be scared off so easily." Aurelianus saluted smartly and hurried off to carry out his commander's orders.

Domitius opened a channel to Hogan. "The city defenses are prepared, Legate, and are ready to fall back to when necessary."

Newkirk handed Hogan two messages. Hogan smiled and nodded at the first, then smiled a more sardonic smile and nodded at the second.

"What news, Legate?" Newkirk asked.

"It would seem that my brother-in-arms has Janus fully ready now. I wonder how he's going to react to this." Hogan held up the second missive. "It's from our friend Mr. Kinchloe in communications and intelligence."

"I know Kinch can imitate almost anything," Newkirk said, "but it would take a real miracle worker to get their comm scramble from all those signals that these honchos have not been sending."

"Oh, you give our friend too little credit. This is a report of the radiation output of our new friends' vehicles."

"And?"

"There's just too much gamma radiation for the generators they've got out there."

"They're sure?"

"No doubt about it."

"Well, that can only mean--."

"Nuclear weapons."

"So what are we going to do?"

"Well, we can't afford to dance with them any longer. Send this off to Domitius. Let him know that, in a couple of minutes, we're going in with guns blazing, and we're going to try to take out as much of their nuclear capability as we can."

"But, sir, that's suicide."

"Not that you have the right to question me, Newkirk, but we'll end up a LOT better off taking out those nukes than we will just letting them blow up in our faces--any of them.

Tell Janus to launch an artillery bombardment on those bubble shields. At the very least, we can use the distraction. Also have them get their air defenses cranked up. I have a funny feeling that, when we make our move, one of the first things they're going to do is bring in air support."

"Actually," Newkirk replied, "I think you're right on all counts, sir. I'll see to it."

"Good. We'll go as soon as the first shells hit. And it's time to move to a more secure bunker."

Domitius' eyebrows rose as he read the reply from Hogan. Nuclear weapons this close to the city could destroy it through collateral damage even if Janus was not their target; he nodded in agreement with his fellow Legate's decision, and sent a quick message of acknowledgment through one of his commtechs before issuing a flurry of orders over the city-wide channel.

SAM batteries came fully alert and ready to fire at the expected air support when it appeared. Artillery that had long since been carefully aimed at the bubble shields fired a first volley of high-explosive and EMP pulse shells, quickly recalibrated, and fired again.

"Soften 'em up!" Domitius barked at full battlefield volume, forgetting himself for an instant. "Lay a good couple volleys all around them, make 'em quake in their boots!"

The ground outside the bubble shields erupted, sending plumes of dirt and debris high into the air. Domitius sincerely hoped that the bubble shields were not soundproof: the hellish racket of shells exploding all around could do some good psychological damage, even if the shields remained unpenetrated.

The first shells hit as Hogan's transport started off to the underground bunker. The mere necessity of movement would not hamper a man like Hogan, who could keep even the most minute battle statistics in his head.

"NOW!" he yelled through his Republic armor. Though he hated the stuff, it would keep him safe if the nukes didn't hit too close by. All the infantry had already been put on warning, and the armor was now all fully powered up, and the real light troops had been pulled back and were getting re-equipped.

These guys were loaded for bear.

They were going to get hellspawn.

As the first shells impacted against the bubble shields, they were joined by a Marionetonian response. As they pulled back, the volunteer units began a process that the Marionetonian engineers had briefed the unit commanders on.

The bubble shields came down to the ground. That was how they worked. Yet, it was possible to prevent the shields from working by excavating holes at their very edges. For this reason, every Marionetonian unit within range had targeted the ground just at the edge of the bubble shields--and they were basically all aiming at the same spot. They anticipated heavy casualties. This did not deter a single one of them. 30 tanks opened fire, and another 30 began flanking maneuvers on each side of the enemy formation. That left 10 to protect Hogan and his staff, along with Janus' artillery.

The first round of Marionetonian ordinance hit home just as the smoke from Janus' hit began to clear.

OOC: Keep in mind that bubble-shields are 360-degree shields. Spherical, in fact. Otherwise the heat from enemy attacks would just.. well, melt the ground on which we stood.

"Shield failing, sir. We've rerouted reactor power to it, but I'm not sure how long it can hold."

"Understood. I suggest we use the shaped-nukes. Drop them over the other side of the enemy; we don't want to collapse our own shields."

A pair of missiles sailed out, flying beyond the enemy troops. Protected by minor shields of their own, they would serve to incinerate the ground on which the enemy stood, at the first formation of enemy tanks.

"We need more tanks. Get the 8th up here. They can advance quickly, out of formation, in order to allow them to flank the enemy positions. I'm reluctant to give out our air power as of yet - the bubble-shields protect us from enemy fire, and I'd rather not phase them in and out in order to be able to fire. If we don't respond, we may yet surprise them. We outnumber them in terms of armour.. if we destroy them here, we'll have an advantage when we come to encircle the city."

"Understood, sir."

The 8th began positively flying up to the battlefront - 120 tanks in total, a large number for a single battalion. But yet they were powerful, good Starfederation tanks. Tough and hardly, although not designed to deal area damage, they were excellent at disposing of enemy air power.

Within a minute or two, they'd arrive. Until then.. well, hope that the nukes would disperse the enemy... and sit tight.

"Domine! The enemy has fired two nuclear missiles aimed at the ground between us and the Marionetonians!"

Domitius swore. "Any chance of us intercepting them from here?"

"The SAM batteries should have a lock any second now. We might be able to fly a group of skimmers out and shoot them down with their autocannons if we get them out immediately."

"Do it. If it draws their air support after us, they'll just be flying into the teeth of another SAM barrage. They fly out, shoot, and fly back, and that's it. No strafing of the enemy positions, that's just asking for it."

Ten skimmers armed with autocannons scrambled and blasted out of Janus at top speed, sensors sweeping the air to get a lock on the missiles while the Roman gunners gave control of the autocannon turrets over to their targeting AIs. The missiles were already descending towards the ground as the AIs locked and opened up on their targets, autocannons shrilling as they pumped out several hundred thousand armor-piercing projectiles per second.

((OOC: I have to cut this off because my lunch period is over))

"Skimmers away, sir," Newkirk anounced.

Hogan sat placidly in his seat, his helmet at his side. If not for the wild look in his eyes as he glanced occasionally at the tactical display in front of him, one would hardly know that there were a nuclear warhead heading straight for his men. The troop carrier bucked slightly as it went over an occasional bump in the dirt road--Hogan had insisted on a land-based carrier rather than the more standard hoverjet variety for its stealthiness. He was bold but not stupid. It was this boldness, coupled with his activism, that made him very popular among his men.

"Well, we knew they had 'em," Hogan said. "Let's hope that Domitius' boys are as good as I think they are. Can we get telemetry on that match-up, Newkirk?"

"Aye, sir," Newkirk said, placing a comlink in his ear. His fingers briefly thumped the console in front of him. "Coming in now, sir...looks like they're having an affect. One of the warheads has been deflected...now it looks...like IT'S COMING STRAIGHT AT US!"

"Helmets on," Hogan said, the calm of a steamhammer never leaving his features. "Brace for collision."

As the men put their gear on, there was a soft boom. The data consoles sparked and died, along with anything else that was electrical. A moment later, a powerful gust of wind kicked the transport over onto the side of the road, overturning it.

"How bad is it, Newkirk?" Hogan blasted.

"I don't know, sir. The EMP from the blast knocked out all our equipment."

"Everybody aboard sound off. HOGAN!"

"NEWKIRK!"

"O'REILEY!"

"PILATE!"

"CONSTANSIUS!"

"NORQUIST!"

"Alright, Newkirk, why aren't we all dead?"

"It must've been a shaped charge, sir. When it was deflected, its orientation was skewed. We only caught the edge of it."

"OK. Everyone check your armor radiation monitors. Anybody with a lethal dose on the outside, sound off. HOGAN!"

"NEWKIRK!"

"O'REILEY!"

"PILATE!"

"CONSTANSIUS!"

"NORQUIST!"

"Well, let's hope our shielding was good enough to keep us from being walking deadmen. Alright, boys, let's get out and right this truck."

"What about the troops, sir?"

"They're trained to function autonomously. They'll know what to do."

--------------------------------

The moment the bomb went off, all caution was thrown to the wind. Every unit in range opened up on the enemy position, regardless of where it was or what kind of cover it was in. Some tanks continued on their tracks; others altered course to head straight toward the enemy position. A few continued around to close the circle.

If they were under fire before, they were taking a battering now.

Domitius swore again; the autocannons had failed to punch through the missile's shielding before it hit the ground and detonated. "Casualties?"

"None as yet, domine, although radiation levels in the city are beginning to rise."

"Every soldier is to have his helmet on and battlesuit sealed, if any man does not after one minute I'll discipline him myself."

"Artillery bombardment is continuing, domine. Bubble shields show signs of weakening....and the 45th's armor has fully engaged enemy positions."

"Step up the bombardment if you can," Domitius muttered, studying the tactical display on the holopanel in front of him. "Di magni, what I wouldn't give for just a pair of Furies, or a wing of attack skimmers even...."

OOC: Will it be too much of an advantage? The Republic troops already outnumber their foes almost 2 to 1. Two legions (@ 6000 troops to a legion) and a 6000-troop academy contingent was 18,000 troops on my last count--and the other side only has about 10,000 to throw into the fray. THAT is why I dumped the air force. Then again, not all the Republic "troops" are going to be actual combat forces.

I'm a little concerned because I've never done the math for a legion and their supply/combat ratios before. Here's my breakdown for the Fightin' 45th. Someone please tell me GENTLY if my math has any problems:

100 tanks, each with a crew of 3 (commander, nav and ordinance) ties up something like 1000 people when we take into account the supply, mechanical and command/control staff.

1000 heavy infantry ties up another 2500 or so.

The air force (not used here because it's out for reconditioning) of about 50 planes would tie up 2000 people.

1000 people comprise the top-level command/control and the intel staffs.

500 grunts round off the 6000-man legion.

-----------------------------------------

IC:

Realizing that their cover was useless against tactical nukes, 500 heavy infantry left the bush and engaged the enemy. They expected the casualties to be high, but they also expected to raise some hell. The bubble shields stopped them, but anything that stuck out--a sensor array, the muzzle of a gun, anything--was leveled as the mass of desparate soldiers pressed forward.

Elsewhere, Hogan and his crew were unaware of this development.

"Well, Newkirk, what are the chances we'll have communications up again by the time this old clunker is restarted?" Hogan asked as his hands moved inside the truck's propulsion system. In the Marionetonian Army, everyone was cross-trained. Many of the mechanics could pilot the armor or vehicle that they worked on, and many of the higher-ups could do things like engine repair. Hogan happened to be certified in fuel cells.

"Actually, pretty good, sir. The computers were blown, but most of the vital systems were hardened against EMP." Newkirk happened to know the system points of virtually every vehicle that the Republic used in wartime.

"OK," Hogan said, closing a lid, "that should do it. See if she'll--."

There was a low growl as the truck's propulsion came back to life.

"Good," Hogan said. "Now, let's get on Janus on the line and see if we've got any of those dry ice missiles left."

"Dry ice, sir?"

"Yep. In case you didn't notice we messed up that nuke's guidance system so bad that it didn't even make it all the way to the ground before it blew up. That's why the blast radius is so small."

"Yes, sir, but what's that got to do with--?"

"The wind is blowing their way, Newkirk. If we seed the clouds and get our troops out of the way, we can mark some of that nuke 'return to sender.'"

"Why, of course. We could rain that radiation right down on them, couldn't we?"

----------------------------------------

OOC:

BTW, the airplanes may be out for servicing, but the troops that support them are still available for use--and nobody's really said too much about where the mechanic's shop for these things is and how fast they can be brought out of it.

OOC: Wow, now I thought it was the other way around, with the Republic troops being outnumbered. And don't we only have two legions? Yours, and mine with the new recruits? That's 12,000, half of which hasn't entered the fighting yet. Oh, and like maybe two thousand civilian volunteers. Plus HT has 12,000 more of his own that he can drop pretty much wherever he wants. Not immediately of course, but he has reinforcements he can bring in after grinding ours down as much as he can with his first strike force.

So right now for this fight it seems like it's ten thousand against...four thousand-ish? Plus artillery support from the city.

And Domitius was just wishing he had some Roman air support of his own to really rain fire on those bubble shields. Furies are the Neo-Roman standard space fighter/atmospheric fighter/combat transport, but they're pretty large and very fast and carry a hell of a lot of weapons.

Anyway. I could be totally talking out of my ass here, but this is how it all looked to me.

And (gently :P) your numbers add up to 7000.

OOC: Actually, my assumption was that using air power is suicide. With ships that can target you from space when you're in the air, fighters aren't going to last long against orbital support.

"...damn. This is annoying. If we lose the position here.. we could lose the entire attack."

"Sir, I have some advice."

"What is it, soldier?"

"Retreat."

"Retreat, soldier? We're surrounded!"

"Yes, sir, I know. We have a sufficient stock of nuclear weapons here, though, to wipe out the enemy attacking forces.. fire them in the air, and the charge will just hit them solely. It probably won't annihilate them, but it'll give us oppurtunity to escape."

"And why do we wish to escape?"

"Simple, sir. Very simple. We have two capital ships in orbit. We can't fire in close proximity to their cities, because we'll risk destroying those prisoners we need. If we draw them out far enough.."

"We can land behind them, take the city, and annihilate them, all in one bold stroke!"

"Yessir. I was going to suggest, however, that we could use our superior mechanization to retreat slowly at first, drawing them a sufficient distance from the city, and then retreat at high speed, which would allow our capital ships to score an effective 'kill' on the enemy troops. At this point, we could easily occupy the city."

"...make it so."

"But.. we're going to have trouble extracting ourselves from this position. Two thousand men and a failing bubble-shield are not good odds, sir."

"Then get in the gravskimmers. We'll pull out as much as we can - if we can get the Bloodsong to give us some sort of radar-hazing support from orbit, we can fly most of our troops out fairly quickly."

"Yessir!"

Gravskimmers moved up, preparing to be boarded, and fly off. However, almost a hundred tanks swept down on the heavy infantry assaulting the bubble-shields, massive cannon tearing through earth and flesh alike, crackles of bright blue energy cutting swathes through the enemy formation. Under the cover of an armored division, the bubble-shield flickered, and then failed. A moment later it was up again, but the implications were clear. They had to retreat, now.

Eight thousand men remained in support, and could prepare to guard their retreat. It would be bloody, perhaps. But if the enemy retreated, they would suffer little. If the enemy advanced.. [i]they would suffer greatly. Another set of tac-nukes were launched, this time, detonating as soon as they could, to cause the greatest area-of-effect that they could.

It wouldn't be enough to wipe the enemy out, but, perhaps, it would safeguard their retreat...

"Using nuclear weapons on a pristine ecology," Hogan muttered. "Those bastards!"

"Comms are restored, sir," Newkirk said as they both sat down in their transport once again. None of them would be foolish enough to take off his helmet until after a thorough decontamination.

"Good. Get me some telemetry. What did those nukes we heard actually hit? What kind of casualties have we taken?"

"It looks as though they cleared out an area around their transport, sir. We've lost about a third of our tanks and half our heavy infantry."

"They're doing our work for us. Get Domitius on the line. Let's talk about the nuclear rain option. It might help against those bubble shields, too. Some of the cheaper ones short out when you wet them down.

"Oh, yes. Get some covering fire for that infantry, and get them out of there."

-----------------------

OOC:

Please remember, when you start a post with an OOC segment, to mark the in-character portion(s) of the post with "IC."

Revised figures:

Only 2000 for the heavy infantry and no grunts.

Still, I thought we had 18,000 on the planet: 6,000 from the 45th Legion, 6,000 from the 421st and 6,000 from the training squad.

"Sounds like as good a plan as any," Domitius replied after Hogan and Newkirk contacted him. "Yes, we've just searched the missile armory and found an ample supply of these dry ice warheads." Domitius was impressed by the plan's uniqueness; these Marionetonians certainly knew how to think creatively. "They're being transferred to our SAM batteries as we speak.

"Socii," he continued, after a small pause, "I am noticing that our enemies seem mighty reluctant to harm the city or its inhabitants. It would be easy to slag a major city from orbit to shock the rest of the planet into surrender, yet they have not done this...I am wondering whether it might be prudent to withdraw at least the bulk of your forces into the city, and draw them here. If they truly place such importance on this place or its people, it gives us a substantial advantage. The further away from the city you get, the less danger there is of collateral damage, and the less inhibited they will be in their means of destroying you."

------------------------------

Outside, a score of dry ice missiles rose on bright flame trails into the sky, and split off from each other in a wide fan. Their detonations were obscured by the clouds that they entered a split second before going off.


OOC: Training squad? The 421st were the ones there to be trained. I think I'm missing something.

OOC: Must've been me who missed something. Thought the 421st was the trainers, and there was another 6000 to be trained. That's why I pointed it out BEFORE I used it in the RP: wanted to make sure I was right. Obviously, I was wrong. Good thing I corrected my mistake before it caused any trouble.

IC:

The truck rolled down the dirt road. Ahead, finally, was a concrete bunker that marked the end of its journey. As it drove, a fairly large door in the bunker opened, and the truck pulled in.

"No," Hogan said, "we don't want 'em to come to us, especially if they've got air superiority. They'll just organize and hit us with a concerted effort. We want to hit 'em on the ground before they can organize and use every weapon at our disposal to disrupt their activities--speaking of which, did we get our troops out of the splash zone in time?"

"Yes," Newkirk replied, "we pulled our infantry back out of range and our tanks continued bombarding them from a distance. We've engaged their tanks and confined them to the splash zone."

"Good. By now, they should already be starting to feel the affects. An hour from now,their equipment will be so hot that they won't be able to work on it without power armor.

"Next question: why did those tanks make it out onto the battlefield unmolested?"

"I don't know, sir."

"That's not good enough, Newkirk. FIND OUT."

"Their air power will remain superior if we can't lure it out into the range of our SAMs somehow," Domitius replied. "But perhaps you are correct. If you like, I can transport several centuries with railguns to reinforce your men against those tanks. Otherwise, we are sitting here on our clunes. My men want a piece of these invaders as much as I do."

Off channel, he barked, "Half artillery, shift targets and start dropping EMP shells on the enemy tanks." On the tactical map on the holoscreen, a red haze was slowly growing brighter around the enemy's vicinity as radiation levels rose.

"You're right, too," Hogan said. "We've got to keep harassing them to prevent them from coming at us with an organized front, but we've got to do as much as we can to neutralize their air superiority. Two things come to mind.

"First, is there anything we have that we can mount those missiles on? Skimmers? Trucks? I don't know--hoverboards? Anything?

"Second, five of our tanks are Scorpios--you know, the big ones. I've just gone into a bunker on the edge of town and don't need those tanks for an honor guard any more. There's room aboard them for side gunners and hop-offs if you want to give some of your boys a taste of the action. Stress that this is hazardous duty. Whoever goes with us on this has to have ice in their veins or they'll have no chance of coming back. A Scorpio an negotiate those ten kilometers in under thirty minutes. We're estimating that it'll take another forty-five minutes before those shields start coming down. Considering that the tanks' guns will be in range about fifteen minutes before they enter the battle zone, that gives you about fifteen minutes to get your men out here and another fifteen to load 'em.

"Your call. If you want 'em in the theater, we'll get 'em there for you."

--------------------

OOC:

You can find a VERY basic descrption of the Scorpio-class tank on the Republic's home site, under "Legions--Technology of the Republic" (or some such--it IS under "Legions," though).

There was an explosion near the bunker. It felt like a gentle

BUMP.

"They're pulling up stakes, sir," Newkirk said. "Looks as though they're in full retreat now."

"Intensify fire," Hogan replied. Since those tanks are going away, send back our infantry."

"Sir, won't that put them in the middle of a nuclear hot zone?"

"So they'll need new armor when this is over. If they can keep the transports from getting airborne, it will be worth the cost."

By
Unequaled
Military
Power

OOC: Bah, using the 'IC' tag is for chumps! And also people who write before 11 at night. :P

IC: "Harpoon readied, sir. Estimated damage.. approximately two hundred casualties among our own men. Anywhere between six and eight times that in their own, if they're caught unaware."

From the sky, fire was flung down. A white-hot lance of burning metal, dense and deadly, screaming down to where the forces they had fought the Republican forces, into the midst of the combat. Perhaps they'd die, yes. But the enemy would too - and, at the very least.. the kinetic harpoon would secure their escape.

"Sir.. we're losing tanks. Quickly. I've given the order for our armor to retreat, alongside whatever other forces we can spare. The marginal force left in the area will have to die so that the remainder of our forces can regroup. I want us to move over the horizon - get us an area where we can land troops without fear of anti-aircraft fire. We have time to conduct a siege."

"We're leaving the bubble-shield?"

"Yessir. It'll give our troops a little more time, and.."

"They'll capture it. And they can use it."

"Sir, with all due respect, they can't. I've ordered a demolitions man to rig the generator to explode as soon as someone comes within a certain distance. A perimetre has been drawn up, with smaller force-walls, so our own troops can't approach it. It'll cause them more casualties, and more casualties only."

"Good. Retreat!"

The majority of their force had pulled out - but they were suffering casualties. Perhaps 2-1, in favor of the enemy. And that, alone, constituted a victory. It was a foolish, arrogant move, landing so close to the city. They had not expected an enemy force of such size to be there. But a single loss did not mean a total loss - they had aerial superiority, orbital superiority.. As soon as they disengaged, they would have numbers.

No, this initial setback meant nothing, he reassured himself. There were only two choices for the enemy. Retreat, and fall under siege. Or advance - advance, and advance under fire from their fighters, from their ships. They had only to retreat far enough so that the enemy anti-aircraft capabilities were diminished, and the day would be theirs...

OOC: LOL! Glad to have you back! :) :) :)

Looks like Leggo missed a post. Going to have to see if he's still interested in this thread.

IC:

"Sir! They've launched somekind of airborne ordinance at us. Telemetry coming in--IT'S A MASSIVE KINETIC LANCE!"

"PULL BACK! EVERYBODY PULL BACK! HIT IT WITH EVERYTHING WE'VE GOT!"

Domitius had to raise an armored hand to shield his eyes from the blinding white shaft of light as the harpoon descended. Again, the old Legate found himself wishing for some proper Roman support: a battlecruiser to knock the enemy craft out of the sky, or planetary point defense to knock the harpoon out of the sky...

But the fact of the situation was, he had neither. "SAM batteries, target that projectile and fire immediately!" he ordered, but had a feeling it was belated; the strike had come too fast and without warning. "Hogan!" he barked over the comm, "Is there any way to link the SAM batteries to your telemetry to track these strikes if more come in? We can pull targeting AIs out of our inactive skimmers and patch them into the missile control systems; orbital kinetic strikes move too fast for human reflexes. In fact, they can track aircraft a hell of a lot better than we can as well. It'll make our AA capabilities much more efficient, I'm almost embarassed I didn't think of this sooner."

Hogan felt a tremor in the ground. For the second time in the same day, he watched his telemetry equipment short out. This was starting to get annoying. He pounded the nearest wall--his armor-accentuated hand leaving a robust dent in the bunker's cinder block--and swore softly. "I know it's not going to be easy, but get me a casualty count as soon as you can."


"Hogan!" Domitius barked over the comm, "Is there any way to link the SAM batteries to your telemetry to track these strikes if more come in? We can pull targeting AIs out of our inactive skimmers and patch them into the missile control systems; orbital kinetic strikes move too fast for human reflexes. In fact, they can track aircraft a hell of a lot better than we can as well. It'll make our AA capabilities much more efficient, I'm almost embarrassed I didn't think of this sooner."


"We tried that, Domitius," Hogan said. "The SAMs' launch computers are too slow to keep up with the telemetry. We'd have to upgrade...skimmers, you say? Hmmmmmmm...tell you what, I'm going to give you over to the head of our engineering corps, a man named Kinchlow. If you can cluster those skimmers' guidance systems in with the SAMS' launch controls, we just might have something that can stand the info dump. In the meantime, did the Scorpios survive, Newkirk?"

"Of course, sir. They hadn't even entered the theater of battle."

"How fast can you your boys have ready for a recon run?"

Let's have a

Built-
Up
Munitions
Party

!

"First Century will be there in less than three minutes," Domitius told Hogan, switching over to the 421st's channel to give the orders. "Flavianus, you work with this Kinchlow fellow about patching our AI's into the SAM guidance systems." The Tribune saluted and went about his business.

The sixty Marines of the First Century arrived at the Scorpios location in exactly two minutes, loaded down with two dozen heavy railguns and EMP slugs for use against enemy tanks. Centurion Marcellus saluted the tank commander. "First Century reporting for recon duty!" The men armed and primed their heavy weapons as they climbed onto the tanks, using the railguns' built in magnetic clamps to mount the weapons securely on the tank hulls for transport.


OOC: I'm really sorry this took so long guys, I've been weighed down and distracted by a lot of shit lately.

"Very well, ladies," Centurion Murphy said. "First, let me point out the supreme honor that you are being granted. Trainees," he said that with a certain disdain, "are normally not allowed onto the battlefield. Our Mr. Hogan has his own ideas about battle conditions, however, and we WILL be using your services.

"Second, let me point out the danger of the situation into which you are being inserted. We've just been hit with a force lance from orbit. We have no way to cover ourselves. We have only our wits and our armor. So let us USE those wits no matter how difficult that may be for some of us.

"Our mission is to reconoiter the damage--it is NOT to repair broken equipment, no matter how trivial the damage, and it is NOT to engage the enemy. We've lost over 400 light infantry already. Let's not add to that total because somebody got STUPID! Now, let's go!"

"Over 1,000 at original estimate, commander. We're pulling back, and they're not engaging us. It was somewhat painful to do what we've done, but at least our original mistake has been rectified. We'll be shielded by the curvature of this planet within a few minutes. And then we can bring down the remainder of our forces."

"Very good, then. Very good.."

They had made it out. He had not expected the enemy to act so decisively. The Republic's armies must have better commanders than he had originally expected. Then again, he had not expected the Republic's armies to be there, either.

It had been a blunder of the highest order. He had hoped to overwhelm the enemy quickly, and to be off this godforsaken rock in a day. Instead, it seemed, he'd be here for weeks.

"I want to bring down another volley of smaller lances. Not as large as the previous ones - just buy us a few more minutes. I have a feeling we'll need them."

A voice crackled through the 'com in his helmet. "This ship does have limited resources, commander. We cannot maintain a heavy bombardment that, say, a Dreadnought, or a battle-fleet could. Fabbing new missiles, and constructing new lances takes time. We'll comply, but keep in mind we can't bombard your enemies into submission, even if that was our aim."

"Understood. Now give me that bombardment."

A volley of kinetic lances were flung down, more quickly, this time, but far smaller - harder to target. If the enemy were expecting them, they'd probably get at least half. If they weren't ready for them.. well, they'd get none, he supposed. They were aimed at the front-end of the enemy army, between where tiny figures were spreading out to search the area, and where the main body of the enemy was held. Either way, they'd get some of the enemy, he supposed."

"OK, Domitius," Hogan said, "let's see how that improvised battery works. You knew that second volley was coming. Let's fix it so that they never send a third. There may be only one of those point defense batteries, but we can sure use it, and, if we're lucky, we can use it to tie the Scorpios' weaponry into the targeting grid.

"Fire at will."

OOC:

Doggone it, I'm running out of acrostics!

Hmmmmmm...here's one...

Burp
up
mulched
pancakes