UCON's Story

; The four Claymore IFVs fought alongside the heavier Caprican armor, while the four GV-12 Saber transports drove off-road and through the frontage roads of the highway. As the assault pushed forward, the two interceptors performed one final pass over the battle zone, chasing the last airfrigate for a stretch of nearly 3 kilometers before pulling away and allowing the contacts to retreat further into the mountains.
"This is Atro Platoon on assault screening for the armor spearhead -- we've got about 2 more kilos of open road; they could be packin' all sorts a nasty shit." The marine Lieutenant of Atro platoon remarked, as the M22TB carrying his command squad pulled out alongside a pair of Aschen tanks and IFVs.

"This is Red Sword One ... these Tauron won't stand up if we're puttin' everything to the line. How many hours you think before we run into a whole damn armored brigade?" A marine yelled over comms, pushing his Leopard over an irrigation dam as it supported a trio of Aschen tanks rolling along the highway.

; Sheriff Daylon followed the Minister quietly, sifting through his mind for the information; Fort Veritas had been mentioned in several briefings on the route to Terra, and had became a heavy defended center for the TNG. Depending on how many of the vehicles were equipped with electronic identifiers, the possibilities could be narrowed to the information contained in onboard computers. The practice was a standard in the Coalition, and the TNG was able to support the electronic infrastructure required for such investments.

"Unfortunately sir, I don't have any equipment that I am familiar with -- but, I do know that the TNG has specialized units and equipment for these investigations. The TNG has more resources than the Coalition does in this sector ... " The Sheriff returned, placing the computer tablet onto the table and sliding his palms forward.
"I have a few more specialists that have already examined the information, and I'll try to help in any way possible."

; The Sheriff bowed his chin lightly, leaving the computer tablet on the table before reaching a hand up to the case. Slowly closing the case; he took a moment of thought, attempting to recall the layout of the city. It was different, by quite a leap, from the regions of Coalition space he had served in. The last assignment had been in the administrative department in the Colonial Sphere, the same time itself the Coalition was aggressively expanding in the wake of the Soviet Republics.
"Affirmative, sir. All of my men can be reached by mobile call, I'll leave the information here with you; I've gathered as much as I could find." He remarked kindly, one hand tucking against his jacket before he nodded to Director Drulovic.
"Oh, yes! I'd like some tea."

; Raymond slid a hand through his closely trimmed hair, a line forming his mouth; Arabic tea was, without any doubt, something he had never tasted before. He turned to the door behind Drulovic before making a slight whistle to the four other men reclining in chairs at the front of the office; the men all seemed fixated on the windows, taken from the sight of a foreign city. As Raymond made for the door, the Scatterrans seemed to be discussing amongst themselves before making an effort to return to the lobby.

"No ma'am, I do not ever believe I've had the opportunity. The tea they serve to the Bureau is quite ... stagnant. Hey -- over here," He replied, ending his address with a quick wave of his hand before a smile creased his face. As sugary and polluted the Bureau tea was, he wouldn't pass up a chance to try the authentic brew.
"I was unaware of how easily the TNG would respond to our information -- the Major General was on the verge of reclaiming the information, but military law doesn't dictate the FBP."

; Raymond followed Drulovic through the door and licked his lips in a brief lapse of anticipation; staying at a Coalition FOB under the administration of a military commander, qualities were kept to a very specific standard, below the Sheriff's own. The coffee had been burned and tasteless, any meats that weren't organic had been frozen to near liquid, and even water carried a pungent taste down the pipe.

"You don't know how much I agree with you, Director. My father said the greatest friends are the ones who will feed you ... " He replied with a firm smile, taking a long look to the walls and decor of the Terran building. It was a far cry from often spartan buildings a common architecture throughout the Coalition.
"'A glass with compatriots is as valuable as their word', in the sense of an old author I read of in school."

; The Sheriff calmly followed the woman into the conference room, and hardly seemed phased by the simple furniture of the room. He was still graciously admiring the Terran construction, seeming to treat his trip as an extensive observation of the TNG government building, which rivaled numerous Coalition centers in quality and complexity.
"I've yet to have dinner in the city -- all of my subordinates have tried the restaurants and say the food is delicious. I've had quite a tight schedule inside the base." He replied, genuinely concerned with the fact he hadn't taken the chance to eat in the famous Wing City.

"I think having dinner would be great ... I'm sure it will beat the military rations, normally I'm very well fed ... but here, the Major General has made a few modifications to the diet."

; Raymond graciously accepted the tea with two hands, his chin dipping lightly as he enjoyed the aroma; at his greatest hauls, the tea from a synthetic growth plant in a different portion of the city didn't smell this good. Lowering the cup, he moved one hand on to the trim of his jacket, his eyes looking toward the window that provided the bright influence from outside.

"I've heard so much about the city ... and about all of Terra, a lot of the marines I see here have cameras. People were taking pictures of the planet on the ship from orbit." He said, taking a quick drink from the mug, the taste causing a warm smile to follow it.
"I have never tried Serbian food either ... "

; The Sheriff nodded along to Drulovic's words before he heard the door knock several times, and Raymond lowered the mug from his mouth. Looking out the window, the Coalition officer straightened his jacket with a slow hand and tilting his head over toward the door.
"Oh ... The building is busy enough to support a government."

; Raymond followed the movement of the Terrans with his mind, he kept his hands close to himself and steady to keep the tea coming. He thoroughly enjoyed the richness, a content look on his face as Arianne spoke. He turned and extended a hand toward the new arrival, his grip open for a stern hand.
"Raymond Daylon ... and that is more than acceptable, Director. I'm sure all of us can be very busy at something right now, I'll be in close coordination with Director Moulavi as much as possible. Nice meeting, Mr. Marshall."

UCON didn't achieve its goal of reaching Aschen territory, but it struck at the Taiyou hyperspace gate, fought both navies to a standstill at Sol and claimed a portion of Terra before a treaty was called.

; The Sheriff bowed his chest slightly before making his way toward the door, leaving the Director and Mr. Marshall to themselves as he withdrew a digital cellular device and departed through the door. Closing the door tightly behind him, he made an effort to close it tightly and firmly, his own ears cutting out information that they may have began discussing.

; Less than 4 kilometers away, the engines of the two Cricket VTOLs screamed as the Major General pointed the first team of ITDM medics onto their airjet. As the black-armored soldiers hussled their way into the troop compartment, a marine squad readied their equipment a few meters from the launch platform. In the distance, smoke could be seen rising into the bright mid-day sky over Wing City; the Major General cursed under his breath as he watched the first loaded Cricket pull away into the air. The large red cross painted onto the sides and bottom of the VTOL should have been enough to denote the humanitarian mission.

"This is Major General Had-Medeen of FOB Darkhammer to Terran Authority Dispatch -- I have to Cricket medi-vac birds on the way to provide first-reaction treatment. I have numerous airborne contacts on the scope ... You sure this isn't a military exercise?" Had-Medeen inquired as he watched the final Cricket rise into the air, the massive engines of the VTOL howling in agony for more altitude.

Striker One One was the lead Cricket ambulance, while One Two was carrying half a platoon of marines armed to provide security for the immediate medical responders.
"This is Striker One One inbound for medical evacuations -- seeing plenty of gunk on the finders down there, is that Hagan Avenue?"
"This is One Two, confirming a surprise attack -- that looks like Tech Con HQ over there."

Strike One One was zipping above the city at an altitude of 2km before a bright flash of light announced the Cricket's electronic-countermeasure array; inside the cockpit, however, the droning howl of a missile incoming continued to scream in the pilot's ears.
"One One! We've got missiles inbound, high-velocity close proxis -- countermeasures didn't shake 'em, evasive manuvers! This is Striker One One, cut the path, cut the path!" The frantic radio calls followed as the Cricket bucked down through a field of clouds, hoping to confuse as many of them as possible. The first SAM ripped through the cloud coverage, narrowly missing the Cricket by 60 meters and racing farther into the sky. Two more missiles followed the Cricket out of the bank of cloud coverage.
"Alpha this is One One, we are inbound! God dammit, these things won't give up!"

The second Cricket brought itself low to the ground, practically skimming the rooftops as the two lateral bay doors of the VTOL were yanked open to reveal the marines inside.
"This is Master Sergeant Kopp -- no medi-evac opens up with fuckin' surface to air missiles! We need to put down -- incoming!" The Master Sergeant yelled before a SAM ripped away the left engine of the VTOL; as the craft spiralled out of control, the pilot yanked the belly of the Cricket upward as the vehicle crash landed and rolled over onto itself before coming to rest in the middle of a, thankfully empty, intersection.


"This is Had-Medeen, I have one Cricket down and unknown casualties -- Striker One One, you get those wounded evac, I'll put out a QRF for my marines. FOB Darkhammer is operating Red Hot, General."

; Master Sergeant Kopp pulled himself out from underneath the torn bench seat of the Cricket, peering forward into the mulched insides of it. In the crash, he had been thrown from the Cricket with six other men, and had received the worst injuries. Kopp felt his leg burn from a shattered femur, gritting his teeth at the touch of his fractured bone jutting against the encapsulating leg armor; rolling sideways, he felt a shattered rib press against his lungs, causing the man to groan out from the wreckage.
"Oooow -- Sonuvabitch. This is Kopp at the One Two crash site. Fenix platoon, call off!" He said, waiting on his back and growling in pain as he heard the forty-man contingent of the Cricket announce themselves; thirty-one of the men were lightly wounded, cuts scrapes and bleeding, while the rest, including Kopp, were suffering from broken bones.


"This is Striker One One we are on site at the conflict zone -- multiple enemy contacts, can't triangulate the fire from here. Let's get these guys down and pick us up some medical bills." The pilot remarked, adjusting the altitude of the Cricket as it began to descend towards a stretch of unoccupied and undamaged street on Hagan Avanue. As soon as the Cricket broke within 2 meters of the ground, the two bay doors of the airjet were pulled back along the fuselage. The first Internal Trooper jumped out from the airjet, falling nearly 5 feet before landing perfectly and hefting his AR-91 into his shoulder.
"Trapper platoon, let's make a fucking zone here -- secure the area and bring all casualties right here. Major General, this is the Lieutenant. We're feet-down at the attack site, place got turned over but it looks stable. We're ready for casevac."

; The ITDM Lieutenant stumbled along the street as another explosion rocked the city, and the soldier collapsed onto his knees before rolling over and shoring himself up alongside an overturned truck. As the squad of armed guards set up a loose halo around the Cricket, the Lieutenant painted a series of gaping holes in buildings and the streets caused by the attack with his electronic equipment on the foreguard of the AR-91.
"This is Fenix Actual, no sign on enemy contacts -- medivac underway; Acre Actual, Kopp, you there?!" He shouted in his headset, closing his eyes tightly from the stinging smoke billowing through the street as the Scatterran medics stabilized any wounded with first-responce treatment, and then quickly hauled them into the Cricket for immediate evacuation to the Wing City hospital.
"This is Kopp -- we're shot down barely half a klick south of your position, Acre is weapons capable, but we've got wounded. I'm all fucked up." The Master Sergeant returned over the comms, which caused the Lieutenant to curse under his breath.

"Alright, Alpa, you're with me. We're hoofing it to that crash shit; Bravo, Charlie, stay here and keep the casevac moving. Let's get going Alpha." The Lieutenant ordered before pointing down a street leading away from the conflict zone, a thin trail of black smoke rising from beneath the rooftops.

; Lieutenant Reboss slid open the hatch of the TGMV-98, a ruggedized AFV forming the troop carriers of Romeo Section's four vehicle contingent that carried one the Section's heavy weapons squad. Looking down the road, which stretched through a grassland and forested area surrounding the Zone of Operation, the Lieutenant stuck a hand out beside his hand and waved the thermal designator in the air.
"This is Sticker Two, the link to Cent-Aut is hardened ..." He said, his voice dying away over the communications frequencies before the voice of Major General Had-Medeen could be heard relaying information from FOB Darkhammer located in Wing City.

"This is the Major General -- Darkhammer is holding back on the organic air, fly-overs are en route, you should have a pair of UCAVs overhead in thirty minutes. Until then, reconnoiter the area and prepare for your assault. Combat support will be offline for a half hour, but is as follows -- Disruptive Artillery, Precision Munitions and Close Support, request code is Calliban, over. Don't leave your asses too open, I don't want my new AFVs coming back with bullet holes in them."

; The Lieutenant and Striker Two were the first Coalition armored reconnaissance team to leave the jump-off point, the lights of the heavy AFVs dying away as Reboss felt the fighting vehicle tear off the road, knocking through a copse of trees with a roar of the engines.
"Sticker Two to Actual, we've got a whole bunch of thermals all over the place -- I can't tell if these are targets or just fluff. We get an AT missile in the ass I'm going to be fucking pissed." The driver of the AFV remarked, keeping his eyes fixed tightly to the digital readout display, which provided a complete 360 degree line of sight.

"God daaaamn, alright. Sticker Actual, we're continuing on along the road. Nothing too hot yet -- One, you got anything?" Lieutenant Reboss kept his hand on the commpiece, fixed to the side of his head while the other hand rested on the spin-rail of the hatch above him. With a dull whir, the dual 68mm stanchion cannons traversed along an arc, narrowly avoiding branches and fallen growth as Sticker Two and Sticker One speared through the shrublands on the flank of the road, while the rest of the armored recon chugged along the winding path.
"This shit is worse than Kimek, god damn -- who the fuck mows the lawn here?!"

; Lieutenant Reboss felt the AFV lurch as the tire exploded over a unusually sharpened rock, and a ITDM trooper lunged out of his seat from the force, his chin connecting with the hull of the vessel containing him. The man barked and screamed while he held a piece of cloth to his lip, stemming a ribbon of blood that began to trickle from his bottom lip.
"Oh my god -- are you ArCav assholes that fucking stupid?!" He shouted, his voice muffled underneath the article before the Lieutenant silenced him with a wave.

"Shut the fuck up, Anders -- driver -- the fuck did you just run us in to?" Reboss inquired, ducking under the bulkhead that fed into the crew compartment, only to find the Armored Cavalry driver angrily beating the sonar interface.
"What the fuck -- that thing came out of nowhere! We rolled over a fucking tank trap, Lieutenant." He returned, causing Reboss to curse under his breath as he heard various chatter across the Section's comms.
"Sonuvabitch, looks like we're hoofing it. Sticker Three and Sticker Four, follow up those Terrans, stick to them like glue -- anyone so much as spits in their wrong direction, I want you to step off your vehicle and start blasting, undestand? Echo squad, load up and get ready to walk it in. This is Echo squad, Romeo Section, we rolled over a tank trap -- vehicle is disabled, we'll be hoofing it into the Zone of Operation, we're about 400 meters from Observation Point Uniform, from there we should be able to see the base." Reboss said, disembarking the AFV from the top hatch and hopping into the darkness. The ITDM fighters quickly filed out of the vehicle, activating the integrated low-light optics and readying their weaponry before the crew of the fighting vehicle began to operate on the busted tire.

; Lieutenant Reboss hefted the AR-91 into his shoulder and scanned the field laying ahead of him; to the left flank, a fireteam of ITDM soldiers assembled the 14.7mm crew-served assault weapon, while the team on his right began to slowly pick their way across the plains leading up to a gentle slope of the landscape. The soldiers were meandering their way through a tall field of grass before Reboss watched blinding lights and violent noise erupt overhead; the Lieutenant threw himself back into cover, hiding beneath a dead tree.
"Holy shit -- that's a god damn fucking Reverence -- " Reboss kept his eyes shut tightly as the Coalition frequencies began erupting just as suddenly as the appearance of the Aschen starship.

"This is Sticker Actual, there's a god damn starship in my ZO -- are we going to get nuked?!"
"Hold your fire and continue on the advance -- Lieutenant Stasser, move your men forward -- Lieutenant Reboss, maintain your course and continue on mission; no use sneaking around now ... fuckin' Sovraks."

"Sonuvabitch, cover's blown everyone, you heard the chatter. Continue on mission, R of E remains, blast any stupid fucker dumb enough to look at you wrong. Now get moving!" Reboss shouted, hoisting himself over the tree before taking off across the field at a brisk sprint; unlike the Marine Infantry, the ITDM was not as centralized, Reboss and the ITDM soldiers in the field heard few of the Aschen transmissions, instead the information was received and disseminated from a GVEC-93 Command Vehicle perched 3 kilometers out of the battlezone.

"Friend or Foe my ass, I don't want to go anywhere near that damn thing!" Master Sergeant Dunn called out as Alpha team reached the hill overlooking the base, eclipsed by the looming mass of the starship before he raised the assault rifle to his shoulder.
"Just set up and do your god damn job, Master Sergeant -- I don't plan to turn this hill over to anyone but that Zhaki fuck hims

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