UCON's Story

; Captain Alameda cursed under his breath as the Terran agent inside the house responded; the wide-band communication was distributed to the other troops of the ITDM security unit, and in the next few minutes the one hundred odd soldiers over the distance of 4 city blocks began converging on the small home nestled in Wing City.
"God dammit -- Alright, this is the Captain, maintain your position. We're inbound for direct support. Shit, there's a fucking starship above the damn house!" The Captain jumped up on to the sidewalk as a specialized anti-aircraft vehicle rolled down the street; the wheels of the Ishkar AA tank spinning in reverse, with a Leopard 400KT transport driving towards the intersection rapidly behind it.
"Hold position at the far end of the street, I don't want to spark anything off -- but if they open up, we need to be ready to get the Director and our people out of that damn house!"

"Captain! I would suggest establishing a link to the General at Darkhammer, I will handle our agent in the house!" The Executive Commissar shouted, vaulting over a set of rails and booking it through a small alleyway two streets over from the house while the Captain remained with a command-squad of ITDM soldiers.
"This is the Commissar, keep the video rolling Firecloud, how many NPA are in the building with you?!" The Officer shouted into his headset, ordering a fireteam to move through to the intersection.
"Damn, damn, damn." The Commissar grumbled as he loaded a magazine into the shotgun, before he heard the breaking static of the General flood over the line.
"Stand by and hold your fire."

; The Captain grabbed a hold of a pair of binoculars, hefting the large device up to his eyes before he focused them on the flickering starship looming over the house. Behind him, a Cavalry technician frantically yelled into his headset; the spiteful voice of the General could be heard on the other line, garbled by slight interference and coding.
"Captain, this is the General Counselor ... " The General was patched directly to the Captain's headset as he drew the binoculars back and forth along the starship, having difficulties telling which end was where the ship began and the air ended.
"Great to hear your voice, General, this ship just came out of nowhere -- I don't even know where this thing came from." The Captain replied, running across the street to a small fortified bunker, watching the video feed from the agent inside in a small HUD display in the corner of his eye.
"I've got just one agent inside, but I don't know how much it's worth, I'm getting live footage."
"Good work -- that agent inside is capable, Captain. Remain in support position."

"Hold position, squad. Standby." The Commissar ordered, shoring himself in a crouched position against a sedan, nestling the shotgun into his shoulder as a Lance Corporal joined him with an MR-18H LAW. The soldier was quick to deploy the weapon's foreguard-mounted bipod and nestled the weapon into his shoulder.
"Ready, CommEx, who the fuck you think is pullin' this?" The soldier asked, before the Commissar watched the video footage from the Coalition agent scroll through his optical HUD.
" ... The fucking Sovraks."

; The Commissar closed one eye and steadied his breathing, the thought crossing his mind of assault the house; with superior numbers, they could quickly overwhelm the ground-targets, but the chances were too unstable to warrant a full attempt to secure the Director. He cursed under his breath, focusing on only the house for a few seconds as the soldier beside him looked to the Officer for an answer.
" ... Commissar ... The Terrans?" He finally said, taking the man from his thoughts before he waved a hand to the soldier and then drew it to his earpiece.
"Negative, we don't know what that ship is capable of yet, if they were being jammed our communications would be cutting short too. I'll send a request back to the Captain for air support, perhaps we can get a response team from the Fort or Darkhammer." He said, placing his back to the car and sliding down to the ground.
"Captain, this is the Commissar; we have a very volatile predicament, I don't suggest we leave that Aschen ship the only one up there. Authenticate the Response Protocol, Captain."

Several streets away, the Captain quickly grabbed a ruggedized laptop before sending a dual-band communications to the TNG command and control linked in with the Coalition units, as well as FOB Darkhammer.
"This is the Captain outside of Drulovic's house. We have a confirmed Aschen presence in the area, and are requesting immedaite support and intelligence -- repeat, Captain Alameda outside Director Drulovic's residence, we have a compromised security in the area and are in need of immediate support, advise."

; The Commissar dropped back down behind the car, holding a tranceiver in his hand while taking the large piece of equipment away from his ears. A squad of heavily-armed ITDM soldiers now formed a perimeter at the ends of the block; with their vehicle support forming roadblacks across the street with their weaponry deployed. In his HUD, a faint icon designated another squad moving down the street alongside them. The soldier were equipped with SM-10 heavy missile launchers.
"This is the Commissar, we have the area contained ... Move your asses into cover!"

Captain Alameda ran to the Claymore, several technicians working at the electronic modules under a tarp beside the vehicle. He saw a Cavalry specialist standing out in a small platform where the turret would normally be, using an advanced optical sight to identify the main target.
"What have you got, Specialist?" He commanded, waiting beside the hull of the vehicle.
"Lighting points for the drones -- this thing is right over the house but it's bending the local area."

; Captain Alameda cradled the microphone into his shoulder; just ahead of him, the Cavalry specialist aimed a high-frequency laser from his optical set. The specialist examined the particule variations across the night sky, occasionally ducking down into the Claymore to adjust the controls of a large electronics set.
"This is the Captain; we're prioritizing targets now -- returning them to Mission Control." He said, looking at a screen in front of him while sifting through a support menu on his computer.
"Darkhammer Actual this is the Captain, what have we got for support?"

The Artillery Major crossed his arms within the safety of FOB Darkhammer, watching a holographic display with several images float in front of him. He turned his shoulders to a technician seated in front of a control module.
"Send an authoriation request to TNG Mission Control for an indirect-fire mission -- sling up the Eight-Eight Kinetic Strick Missile, call to the General for mission statement." He said, turning back to the screen as the technician quickly set about directing the artillery personnel of FOB to their positions.

; The Artillery Major watched a diagram of the Strategic Missile launcher; a large-frame truck with a heavier missile pad hitched at the transmission, the Orca was the forefront piece of Coalition artillery superiority. As he surveyed an ordinance interface attached to Darkhammer's primary ammunition store, he leaned forward to authenticate an order.
"Mission Control, I have two heavy missiles for an immediate fire mission -- Cerberus Kinetic Strike Package online." He said, watching a video feed from the head-set of a Cavalry officer at the artillery platforms by the launcher.
"Forty-five second flight time from launch to impact, two more can be fired in another minute. These slugs are extreme-velocity high-precision, all we will need is a solid position fixture on that warhead. If they know what's good for them, they'll shut their asses up and get the hell out of here."

The Captain turned away from his interface, shouting up to the Cavalry officer standing in the cupola with the optical device attached to his eyes.
"We've got a Cerberus ringed to fire, but we'll need a strong enough bead on that warhead -- what have you got on that thing?" Alameda ordered, turning back to his interface.
"We have an Electronic Interdiction Vehicle on-station, suggesting area dampening to enhance strike effectiveness."

; At FOB Darkhammer, a Coalition Warrant Specialist perched himself atop the turret of an SHV-A artillery tank, holding a pair of binoculars in front of his eyes and tracing the mass of the Aschen Reverence as it loomed across the city. Beneath him, the massive turret of the vehicle slowly rotated to aim at the vessel; the heavy magnetic rails of the Arbiter's dual cannons humming with an audible tune before the first 210 centimeter projectile was loaded into the breech of the weapons.
"Looks like they're bugging out -- you sure this wasn't a drill?" The Cavalrymen responded before using a small designating laser to gauge the distance to the target.
"Three klicks, Hoks ... look about nine-hundred meters. Who lets these guys take the wheel? They sure like to get low to the ground." He remarked before disembarking the Arbiter and jumping down to the asphalt.

"This is Captain Kosser at Battery Twelve, we have confirmation of Aschen ship providing security for our target. Advise?" He repeated one final time into the headset, cramped in the confines of the Tactical Command car parked in a fortified structure within the FOB. Parsing through telemetry and firing data, the Captain watched the six anti-ship cannons of the FOB's artillery platform adjust themselves with minute computerized actions. The constant hiss and whirr of machinery could be heard out the open hatch of the vehicle.
"If we're gonna' fire ... Battery Twelve to Mission Control, interrogative, that Aschen Reverence is still guarding the priority target?"

; Warrant Officer James Callum ran his hand along the frame of the Mobile Cannon that was nestled in Darkhammer's East Branch, an armored and dug-in fortification the housed the 20 vehicles of the FOB's strategic artillery unit. In just under five minutes, the heavier cannons formed the backbone of the deployable anti-ship and anti-orbital capbilities. As he rounded a corner and went below ground into an open trench system, WO Callum met with two other Cavalrymen as they disseminated information from the Battery's command center.
"What's the word? All the MACs are running hot, just put in the infor and they'll fire." He said, pulling off his patrol cap and scratching at his scalp with two fingers.
"Probably just a drill, all I saw up there was an Aschen ship. Hell, big enough target, but I thought the General would want to give us something ... well, harder to hit."

"What the hell is going on up there?!" The Commissar shouted out as he pulled himself up from the ground as the Reverence loomed overhead; shaking his head once, he leveled the shotgun against his shoulder and pointed down the street to Drulovic's house.
"I don't care if that ship is here for a funeral, let the FOB handle it, secure the area. Now!" He ordered the men forward, a trio of ITDM soldiers following him at a brief sprint as they rushed down the street and charged to the door of Drulovic's house.
"This is the ITDM! Sound off if you're not dead!" He shouted out as he approached, keeping his weapon aimed down while the others behind him swept the street with their weapons.

; The Commissar let out a heavy sigh as he heard the NPA Agents report over the comms; he slumped himself against the wall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply before stepping away from the door and taking a position on the sidewalk to the street while the security prepared to move the Director from the house. He waved to the other ITDM soldiers around him, who were either busy observing the Aschen starship or established a defensive perimeter in front of the house.
"Alright, we have the street secured for extraction. Bring the Director out and get her mobile as fast as possible -- I don't want to stick around for any surprises that ship might have." He said, looking up and down the street as another soldier beside him scanned the road with his eyes.
"They said it was the Aschen? Huh, thought they had some more ... tact." He remarked, cradling his weapon into his shoulder as a pair of Coalition vehicles rolled down the street; the main contingent of the armored convoy guarding the NPA security.

"This is Captain Alameda, we've got a clean scope under that Aschen ship. I don't think they're hostile ... too much," Alameda remarked as he heard the engine of the Leopard APC roar to life. Coming in at a low prowl, the four drones that had been flying in a loose circle over Drulovic's house appeared overhead the Captain's vehicle.
"Saddle up and lock it down, we're oscar-mike with the Director. Stand-by for objective intel."

; The Commissar waited at the curb of the street, his shotgun nestled into his shoulder as he heard the door open behind him. Stepping out into the street, he waved his hand to one of the ITDM soldiers riding in the back of a Leopard troop carrier. The soldier quickly signalled to the rest of the security forces, using a brief communications message to assemble the convoy.
"This is the Commissar -- Captain, we're headed to Fort Veritas before any of this gets worse." He said, jumping onto the side of the troop carrier by gripping at a handle.
"Affirmative, CommEx. We'll be right behind you, I want you forward the convoy -- make sure we don't get stuck in traffic or something." The Captain ordered, and the Commissar remained hanging on the APC as it rolled down the street, pulling ahead of the convoy before burning onward through the path toward the Fort.

"Looks like we've got a clear route to the Fort, don't think we'll be having any more surprises."

; As the main gates of the FOB's southern entrance opened, headlights pierced the night as the large doors rolled open; a convoy of four Warrior FSVs were rumbling behind the egress before trundling along the road out into the city. The Lieutenant waved Ari onto the sidewalk, several of the other marines quickly jumping off the road to give the massive multi-ped tanks a wide berth as well. Riding on the jump-seats of the armored vehicles, Cavalry mechanics wielding engineering gear were chattering amongst themselves.
"Don't lose your wits out there Cavvie -- fucking Armor!" A marine shouted from behind his fortifications while he tossed a waterbottle, nailing the turret of the last Warrior as it rolled along the single-lane road. The Lieutenant looked back over at Ari as she took an interest in the mutt.
"Mako was from our newest contract from the Apparatus' K-10 Initiative, there haven't been any dogs in the 89th since the Occupation, he's softer than he looks." The Lieutenant replied, adjusting the strap of the rifle across his shoulder before looking back down to the panting dog.

The Sergeant that exited the gate from within Darkhammer quickly rounded the marines at the checkpoint, ordering them to clean up the card table and the trashcans that had been used for target practice the previous morning. Behind him, a pair of ITDM soldiers were seen at attention while scanning the approach to the gate.
"Get your sorry asses in gear, we've got Director Drulovic inbound with her security -- I don't want these poor Terrans thinking their best friends are a bunch of god damn PDF." He said, waving a hand as he shoved a marine away from the card table.
"You're paid to get shot at, not lose at cards."

; An FBP officer stood outside of the guard house immediately behind FOB Darkhammer's main gate, a hand drawing a lighter up to his mouth to light a cigarette before the canine sitting at his feet let out an alerting growl as the convoy passed through the gate. The police enforced clenched his fist and tugged it through the air, and the dog silenced itself before returning to chewing on a piece of bone from the Mess Center. The base appeared loud and full of life, many of the people within working hours on end in a completely sheltered workplace. The FBP officer went back to puffing on his smoke while watching a televisions screen mounted on a wall, watching the video-feed from the other side of the wall as the Director's security convoy was ushered in through the gate.
"Looks that way, the General likes to make preparations for TNG visits. Not too long ago we started getting Terran specialists from the TAF, help with things like traffic control and command." He remarked, waving a hand to the FBP guard and his sentry dog before hopping up onto the curb of the street and looking back over his shoulder. Mako, who had shored himself against both Ari and the Lieutenant before entering the FOB, remained obediently between the two of them; only occasionally snapping his jowls and nudging against someone for a pet.
"Place tends to get pretty busy when the Terrans show up. Have to actually pretend like we're doing something."

"Counselor's at the Gym finishing up PT, Director. He'll be waiting for you right at the Command Hub." The Sergeant remarked as he gave the driver back the entrance identification, before he stepped back and had the slightest look of confusion at a certain smell. It wasn't often the FOB as associated with a good aroma. The Sergeant dismissed the convoy through the gate with a salute, before grabbing a wireless phone from a desktop computer at the checkpoint.
"They're inbound to the Command Hub, General."

; In the Command Hub, the Coalition personnel were hard at work shuffling from one area to the next. At the sight of Director Drulovic, they would jump with a brisk stride to a wall and salute as the Terrans passed by, returning to their duties afterwards with a step and nod. The marine guard waiting outside of a conference room nodded to the Director as she rounded the hallway, and the doors automatically opened to reveal a large forum that would've appeared familiar, having been the same room Darkhammer had hosted Drulovic's mission brief with the Taiyou. The marine stood by the door and tensed his shoulders, offering one of the Terrans a datapad.
"General Had-Medeen asked for the Briefing Chamber to be cleared for your arrival." He said, looking over his shoulder into the room; on the large table centered in the room sat a few platters of simple foods and fruits, the leftovers of a previous mission debrief where the persons using the room hadn't even bothered feeding themselves.

Outside of the Command Hub, the ITDM Captain looked down the street to see a woman in gray tatters and scraps of clothing walking along the sidewalk with a Ruhrno mutt trotting along at her side. The beast let its tongue droop out the side of its mouth while travelling alongside the woman, occasionally leaning his abdomen against her before noticeably straightening its attitude as the Captain shouted out.
"You're the girl they let in at the gate, right? The General should be coming through any minute ... Is that some form of ... uniform you got there?"

; Had-Medeen slid his arms out from the coat as he entered, the sight of cookies and a few pastires placed on the table was enough to instantly put a smile on his face. Particularly famished from his work at the gym, the soldier followed his stomach like all great men before him and grabbed a plate. Only nodding to the Director in response, the General took a few steps to the flanks of the table before shoving a cookie in his mouth and chomping with a silent, almost sheepish look. The Scatterran quickly swallowed, having eaten one practically hole, before rubbing the crumbs away from his fingertips and speaking through his teeth.
"At least she is dressed indeed, I'd rather not have my marines distracted to the point of causing physical damage. At least wear pants next time, Agent." He said with a bit of feigned superiority, his smile obvious without the facemask and other gear obscuring his features.
"Holidays end at fifteen hundred -- er, twelve o'clock on the Coalition clock. Counter-Balance has had some weird disguises before, points for authenticity, you'd catch a marine on the street." He said, a faint nod and a thumbs up coming from him.

"Now, Director, the cookies will become a requirement of Darkhammer's Mess Center. Marines get a certain way when they have sweets." He joked as he accessed a brief holographic interface and brought a command module up.
"As a starting report, Darkhammer has doubled its efforts to protocol preparations -- artillery detachment active, anti-orbital weaponry is online, air vehicle wing is active. I'd be lying if I said the help the TNG has provided hasn't made Darkhammer stronger."

; Had-Medeen narrowed his eyes at the mention of pressing matters; he had been studying a plethora of information coordinated from possible locations of hostility across the planet. Crossing his arms over his chest, he nodded to the Director as she spoke while bringing a satellite image of the FOB, and he watched a digital program highlight portions of the base with a faint blue outline. Lines of text were seen scrawling by underneath it.
"Darkhammer is ready for mission objectives, Director. I spoke with my Artillery Commander earlier about that previous situation above your house," He said, watching an electroscopic image of the Aschen stealth ship looming above the city.
"He expressed serious interest in -- 'Busting some fancy Aschen assets' -- he's from the Republics, bit of a bull in a china shop." He said, looking at the image of a large artillery installation rising above the horizon of the FOB.

"On the subject of that night, I was unable to verify the actual nature of the encounter until an Aschen carrier joined with the ship above Wing City." He said, his arms sagging a bit as a blueprint image of the Aschen Reverence floated over the table. He flicked two fingers toward the image, identifying the loading bay of the Aschen carrier.
"Unfortunately, I still find the trustworthiness of these Sovraks quite ... poor. In my professional opinion."

UCON present!

UCON standing in the conference room, Had-Medeen and the Colonel stood by the door while allowing the Terran and Taiyou parties to take their seats before he was approached by a Scatterran soldier with the emblems of the Coalition Special Operations Group, or COLSOG.
“In recent weeks, the TNG has been elaborating on a broad-horizon attack by the terrorist network known as Hataf.” He said, the lights dimming as the main table nestled in the center of the room projected a large hologram of the planet.

“Their operations have become notorious for efficiency, speed and lethality; with information given from the TIB, there has been an increased effort to locate and stop an attack before their next move.”

UCON looked at the Director, before he saw an image of the FOB’s command overlay appear at the table. Several emblems floated by on the screen while it loaded, before showing a holographic Terra spiraling.
“I’ve had operations to monitor and intercept Hataf movements ongoing, but at the moment we’ve been unable to locate possible weapon storages, or weapon gathering points … “

; As Harold was pulled on to his feet, the two soldiers hoisted his arms up in their own while dragging him through the whipping smoke, he felt his chest wretch a moment before the ground shuddered from impacts falling all around them. One of the soldiers pointed into the sky, following the hole created in the smokescreen to see the shimmering sky above with a faint line tracing against it.
“The hell is going on here?! We need air-evac dammit, the whole city looks like it’s going to hell! Fuck!”

“This is Sergeant Malikoe, FOB Darkhammer is responding! We’ve got Cyclone’s inbound, button up tight and get as many civilians into the building as you can! There’s a marine QRC rolling out from the base!” The Oriyak Sergeant yelled over comms, standing erect against the violence and explosions and barking his orders to the soldiers around him.
“Stand and defend this location, troopers! We are the ITDM and we will not let these people die!”

; Admiral Riley stood at the helm CNS Zietgar, a supercruiser and line-ship attached to the Scatterran Navy Task Force dispatched to Sol. Looking at a team display, Riley sent out a mission package to the four other ships following the Zietgar's keel. In an instant, the two Concordia class Assault Carriers peeled away from the Zietgar at a distance of 5,000 kilometers.
"This is Admiral Riley of the Coalition Military Council, at this time the Terran authority is enforcing it's ability to prevent movement in and out of the Sol system. The Military Council and Task Force Obsidian are online to provide support."

At that time, the two Defense Cruisers formed the rough spear of the formation of ships on their journey through the inner system. Less than 10 AUs from Terra, the Coalition ships were able to modify targeting priorities on the vessel in question. When the first rumblings of weaponry came across the Coalition technicians onboard the Zietgar, the starship began spinning up it's low-intensity electronic countermeasures.