The Liberation of Terra

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The Liberation of Terra

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby AzricanRepublic on Mon Oct 08, 2012 12:56 pm

8th Apparatus Group
306th Drop Division
63rd Crossdraw Battalion

Amiril 3rd, 2609

Amidst a heavy blanket, the tiny bunk at the far wall of the debriefing room could have resembled a bed. A rough shaking made Private Iban wake up as his body at last accepted the excuse that it was, and the ODI tossed the blanket from over him to see another Jumper standing over the small bunk. Iban was a raw recruit, in Dropping Camp known as ‘the Bolshok’ when arriving with no other luggage besides a toothbrush, that had been used to replace losses in Charlie squadron of the 306th Drop Division. The Private was one of nearly thousands of others, and as Iban rolled himself sideways in the bunk he recognized Major Archer looming above him; when he saw the other Jumpers standing about the briefing room he suddenly recalled the unending trek through the Local Region aboard the Assault Carrier intended to begin the assault on Aschen positions in Terra. While his eyes adjusted his ears picked up a voice from an overhead speaker and Private Iban was sliding off of the bunk and put his feet on the deck of the Scatterran Navy carrier.

“Keep your eyes open more, boy. Pay attention.” Robert Archer was the infamous commander of Crossdraw Battalion, or the 63rd Heavy Infantry Battalion of the 306th Drop Division. As Private Iban stood up and made a broad salute to the Major, Archer scratched at the graying stubble on his chin as a familiar number rang out from the speakerphone above them. “Big Six Three is dropping out, boy-oh. You’re driving the golf court today junior, let’s go.”

While Iban followed Archer they moved through a throng of other commanders and NCOs, using wireless and hard-lined computers and displays to access tactical information, unit deployments and dossiers for the upcoming drop on Terra. Composed of a two-level Marine and ODI orbital assault, the 8th Apparatus Group would be aiming to bring powerfully heavy hand into the first operation in the Local Region to directly liberate Terra. The Private took his helmet from underneath the blanket as they left, and as he carried it in rest position beneath his shoulder Archer indicated to a holographic display by the door.

“Before too long we’ll be on the dropship, we get to be on one of the first vehicles down on the planet.” Archer said as Iban looked over the tactical chart of the entire planet, off to one side the satellite imagery with superimposed over a holographic globe; while a complete list of strategic and tactical objectives were highlighted by a scrolling text. Iban saw the 63rd’s insignia on several unit AO identifiers in a cluster of a map of the planet’s surface. Wing City was a glowing beacon on the green and yellow landscape while the rest of the planet was shrouded with a dark red shadow, enemy-held territory.

“Sounds like the job description sir, time to put down some stray dogs.” As the doors opened for the Major two other Jumpers were standing opposite them. As Private Iban saw the spear and star insignia of a Colonel and his Lieutenant the Major saluted to the superior officer and staff of the 99th Planetary Combat Regiment.

“Major, countdown’s started now. I’ll see you planetside then, it’s time for payback, Robert.” As the Colonel addressed Major, the dark-skinned Damibian saw a young Private behind Archer that he had recognized from before. Private Iban had saluted with Archer, and as he lowered his arm the Lieutenant Colonel passed on into the briefing center, leaving the Colonel with the two other Jumpers. “You make sure you’re keeping this group tight Archer, I want to hit the ground running, and hit the Aschen harder, on this one.”

“Yessir, we are oscar-mike to embarkation now. Private, time to report for drop duty.” Archer replied, saluting again to the Scatterran. Colonel Rutend Mosi had been an icon of the Scatterran theater when fighting inside the TandanirState in the Eastern Republics saw the involvement of widespread Union forces. Now, with the assault finally drawing on Terra, the Coalition had increased the running date for its operation to liberate Terra. Iban had only recently joined twelve months, just as the Coalition was mobilizing to covertly prepare the material and personnel requirements to assault Terra. Twelve months ago, the Coalition had been a fairly distraught place, for the tiny hamlet in the Outer Empire where Iban had grown up in.

“It’s the Offensive now, sir. Things will be different after this war, we’ll be strong again.” Private Iban replied, the Jumper’s words the identical rhetoric issued throughout the People’s Bureau in the wake of the Aschen retreat from Scatterran space, and the subsequent discovery of ghastly atrocities not seen in decades.

“Sure, Private. Sure.” The Major didn’t look over his shoulder to give the Private that notorious grin Major Archer was known for as the commander of the battalion. As a combat-line Major, that is one of two officer classifications oriented for ground combat and forward command, Robert Archer would be dropping into the combat zone itself with the majority of the 63rd Battalion; from the ground, Archer would use command networks to direct the exclusive fire of ship and cavalry-based fire platforms soon to be engaged planetside and in orbit above Terra.

Vertical envelopment was a tactic of the Orbital Drop Infantry from the days of Jumpers before the Terran Conflict. As Archer was a veteran of the Conflict, the Major had watched the course of events unfold from the vantage point of the ODI’s elite BLACKWING special forces on Terra for the past three decades since the first hostilities. Now, the Coalition was returning to Terra after nearly half a decade of war and occupation by foreign oppression, that of the Aschen Empire. Just as Iban was ready to mutter a curse at them, the Major and two other jumpers passing in the gangway opposite them stopped and turned their head up as they heard the audio speakers crackle to life again.

“Attention sailors, marines, soldiers and all armed servicemen and women of the Union Expeditionary Forces … “

Archer’s gaze looked down to the floor of the starship, as the voice of the commander came broadcasting to not only the entire ship but the fleet of vessels encroaching on Terra from a 360 degree front of assault.

“That’s god damn High Admiral Harbor boys. You’re all making history today.” The Major replied, first his dark green eyes looking at Iban before he promptly shook hands with the other two Jumpers; both of them wearing insignia of young Privates like Iban.

“Today will mark the reversal of a nightmare that will only intensify until it is irreversibly dismantled across every last free territory it has managed to conquer. Today the liberation of one planet will serve as a sign to everything that would oppose us that our way of life will not die.”

As Iban looked up at the speaker module above his head Archer’s chin was held by one hand as the voice of the High Admiral echoed across the long causeway. Just a few meters from the four Jumpers Major Archer spotted two Terran military personnel, one a Scatterran himself and the other ethnic Terran, while the High Admiral’s voice reached a pitch against the noisy grind of the ship’s internal components.

“And today, we will show a regime that seeks to elevate only one above the majority that it is all those who have been oppressed who will be the damnation of that same regime. We arrive here today as a force with no flag but freedom as our standard above us, while we march upon the fortress of infectious tyrants who practice a method of subjugation and discrimination against their fellow man.”

“As citizens of our separate nations we embark upon the journey to liberate the buffer of a fascist state from the tyrannies practices beside closed borders and in destitute camps. May only God judge our foes for these qualities of liberty we would die and suffer for to enjoy again. For we will give no concessions to an enemy who would so quickly murder all of us than give us those same rights. God bless us all as we meet our enemies in the darkness of combat.”

General Had-Medeen was in the lower decks of the Assault Carrier, the CNS Stolen Pride, in a Marine Control Module as he heard the High Admiral commemorating the assault. Had-Medeen stifled an emotion of spite that surfaced as he looked on the faces of other, younger marines around him.

“Enough of the radio, ladies. We have a job.” Had-Medeen said, taking a step back from a holographic display as the darkness of the MCM was replaced by a dim red glow. All around the marines were holographic arrays, graphs and tablesheets imposed on blank walls and looming in the air near them.

“They’ll be playing this speech planetside, greens. Don’t worry about missing a line.”

As Had-Medeen went back to a holographic display, he reached a hand out to a technician and took a tablet device from the young Terran national when attention in the room shifted to the marine Brigadier General, a lumbering Oriyak, who stood from his desk in the control room.

“With all due respects General this fight will be won from the ground up, and our only way of winning it is commander’s and soldiers fighting this Empire together.” Brigadier Ostman Parasotov sported a thin, wire-like mark from a distant run-in with the Red Halo forces of the Outer Empire, and as a commander of one of the 89th Marine Division’s six brigades, had served with distinction before even Had-Medeen had come to control the outfit.

“Consideration duly noted Brigadier, but we have our protocol for this operation. Nothing on Terra is falling until the Aschen force on it are enveloped from within. We don’t play by their rules, Parasotov.”

“General Had-Medeen, I’ve lost family in – “ The General looked over to Brigadier Parasatov and gave the man his deepest look of scorn as imagery from the holograms threw light in between the two.

“Brigadier this expeditionary force is here, now, for the primary reason of ending that suffering, this is not an operation to draw a sword and sally forth into death like the ones we've left behind. We are on the path forward, marine. We must properly use the time and power so many have sacrificed for us.” General Had-Medeen took steps until he was at the Brigadier’s desk and stared him down over the blank holotank screen built into the module. “We are here to avenge those things taken from us by removing a deliberate danger to more peoples beyond our own borders Brigadier – I will need you ready to command forces on a planet that has been occupied for nearly half a decade, General, not dead because you wanted to avenge the murder of your wife from a stray bomb.”

Two technicians let out some gasps as Had-Medeen pointed at the Brigadier with a gloved finger, despite the glove adorning it the mechanical construct that was used to replace his flesh and bone was still visible as it led into his wrist. “I will not lead officers and enlisted men into peril with someone who will grossly sacrifice a life just as valuable as that which the Aschen have taken; we will end this fight and these Aschen will lose, Ostman, they will pay for what they have done to us.”

“General, sir.” Ostman said, first holding a salute and then laying his palm to the ceiling in front of the General for a hand shake, a common gesture of subordination in the Marine Infantry. Had-Medeen reached across the desk and held the Oriyak’s hand firmly.

“We will need commanders on the ground, Brigadier. We will need someone making the right decisions at the right time to win this war, Ostman, not heroes who are dead and can't see those choices to make. You, the Terrans, all of us have not suffered so much just to have more lives wasted on this planet.” Had-Medeen said as the red ambiance turned into darkness, and soon a pitching wail was heard from the sirens of the vessel’s network.

“This is it, everyone. We’ve prepared for this time again and again and we have our orders. We begin this ordeal as soldiers fighting for a Union of nations bigger and smaller than our own, but history will see us as one great force together in unity to press back tyranny. Let us again go to war, gentlemen.”

SOLCOM Fleet of Profound Solitude
Flagship: Reverence II 'Far Sight Lost'

Aprilis, 5th, 4A12

Admiral Inviere watched the reports pour in, she silently contemplated while the ship's AI and her executive officer listed off the casualty reports from the Scatterran theater. By now much of the Aschen fleet had retreated from Terra, leaving behind a small band of volunteers for one singular purpose. Hold Terra with everything they could and delay the Union advance so the Aschen had time to prepare for the inevitable war that was poised to come to their doorsteps.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Fleet of Profound Solitude.. This is the Admiral" Inviere said as she held the intercom close to her mouth, broadcasting on a wide band frequency to all Aschen ships in orbit, and ground forces on the ground digging in for the inevitable offensive. "The war against our Scatterran oppressors has turned for the worst, we've lashed out against the beast but they have united to smite us once and for all. Though we all have taken this assignment with the knowledge that we will die at the end of a Scatterran barrel, that we will die upon our feet in defiance over our oppressors. The Scatterrans exist for one sole purpose, that purpose is to govern and oppress humanity through sheer force of arms." Inviere took a deep breath, and straigtened her uniform.

"The time has come to stand here, at Terra against the teeming hoardes of Scatterran oppression, we may not survive, we surely won't win, but one thing is going to be for certain. We will die free, and we will die so that others may live. Your sacrifice will buy much needed time for our people back home to prepare. Ladies and Gentlemen of the fleet, you give your lives to save our people, and our way of life, and each and every one of you will be remembered as heroes, people who volunteered their lives so that we all may continue as a people. You have your orders, and let it be known that I will stand with you in defiance against the Scatterran hegemony. As you fight in the trenches, I will stand with you, as you fight in the void of space, I will be with you. Do not fear, do not surrender, do not believe scatterran lies, for they would turn us against eachother. No, so long as each of you draw breath, you are to kill our oppressors. For all those who are uncertain, this is a suicide mission, and you can still retreat and no ill will be thought of you." She slowly moved to set the intercom down, a young Lieutenant inclining his head. "Excellent speech, Admiral." The Lieutenant said.

Inviere finally considered the meat of the issue, and had drawn up detailed plans of the Sol system. "Admiral Harkin, what do we have to work with?" Harkin quickly brought up the map, and the numbers. "Twenty-five hundred vessels, most of them Battlestars. We don't have much to work with but if we position our units right, we'll be able to maximize our effect while minimizing our losses." Inviere slowly nodded to Harkin's reply. "Avoid conflict with the enemy, we need to engage them on our terms, deny them the liberty of picking when and where they can engage. I want similar tactics to be utilized on the surface. Everyone's already been adequately supplied with everything we have, so logistics won't be an issue. Everyone's had survival training, they'll have to make due with whatever they can find. We need to make this hard and bloody for the enemy, maximize small unit, mixed unit and guerilla tactics. I don't want uniforms in cities, and I want people to make use of natural camouflage and thermal dampeners. Keep our men hidden in civilian populations, without the civs knowing they're Aschen. I want us to be able to strike when we make the decision to strike, and avoid enemy pushes. We're going to deny them the fronts they can use to decimate our forces. Hit and run tactics, to prolong their advance. With the Taiyou out of this war, we'll be facing Scatterran assets."

"The day has come, may the gods have mercy on our souls." Inviere prayed, before she gave the order, which followed in the available Aschen fleet dispersing through the Solar system, preparing for the final offensive. It was similar planetside, and Union forces would land to a terra where it seemed not a single Aschen was in sight.

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Re: The Liberation of Terra

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby AzricanRepublic on Sat Oct 13, 2012 12:15 pm

Post provided by TNG writers

Nero's Fiddle
91st Armored Recon Brigade
Prep Hangar

It was hard to tell just what the soldiers of the 91st Armored Recon Brigade were thinking as they mulled aimlessly about the massive prep hangar. Perhaps, had they been a younger generation of soldiers, they might have appeared nervous, and on the surface, that's exactly how they came off. Troopers tapped unsteady rhythms against the titanium plating in their armor. Guns were checked, re-checked and double-checked every passing minute. Everyone moved. No one spoke. The tension couldn't have been cut with a plasma saw.

On closer inspection, however, one might be inclined to change their minds. The inconsistent rhythm the soldiers beat against their metal was not drummed out of a growing anxiety, but a patient annoyance. The fighters roamed the hangar not to take their minds off of the impending battle, but to burn the hours they still had until it came.

The men and women of the 91st Armored Recon Brigade were not afraid. They were waiting.

This was, after all, what they'd been waiting for. The Union had gathered it's recourses, and, for perhaps the first time in Multiversial history, Belkans, Taiyou, Coalies and Terrans were all gathered under one banner, united for the first time against a common enemy. Their combined strength was staggering, of course. Millions of ships had come to together to join in the first 'official' skirmish of the Union agenda: the re-taking of Terra. Most of the Achaian Armada was intermingled with the various other ships, distinguishable in their unique Terran architecture and Resistance insignias blasted over their hulls: the rising phoenix. Nimble Terran Triremes glided peacefully between their massive Belkan and Scatteran counterparts; like rowboats between naval frigates.

The door to the prep hangar opened loudly. Every soldier snapped to attention, picking themselves up out of their wandering and quickly forming back into rank. Of the three thousand venators that were a part of the 91st, roughly five hundred were present here. From the massive hangar doors came a team of ten men. Unlike the heavily-armored venators, they wore no protection. They came before the 91st in ragged off-duty military atire, standing before the marines with all the confidence of ranking command.

"Terrans," one of the ten came forward, "my name is John Howards. Callsign 'Caesar'." A few eyes widened among the soldiers. Joh grinned. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd recognize me without my armor. Most of you know me as the leader of 'Vengeance Company.' We're Tetris. Terra's special forces." John's hands were behind his back as he addressed the formation. Although he spoke with clear authority, his tone was far from inspiring. On the conrary, Howards almost seemed to be fighting back a resonance of overwhelming sadness.

"The feats that my company performed on Terra are well-known among the Resistance," Howards continued, "every other Tetris company left with the Resistance except ours. Two hundred and ninety troopers walked off of our planet. Ten stayed. Ten stayed to fight." Howards took a breath. "The same ten that stand before you today. I don't need to tell you how fierce the fighting was. You're Venators. You're marines. You know about fighting. You know about death and pain and suffering. We've all given everything to be a part of the Resistance; to free our planet against a tyrant's dominion."

"But as a man who's been on Terra from the very beginning of the occupation, I just feel like I have something to say," Howards cleared his throat, "it's the same thing I told the 44th and the 45th. Four hundred and sixty-three thousand of you being orbital-dropped into Wing City today in about..." He checked his wristwatch.

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