"Glad to hear you took care of it, Calamity," a new radio feed squawked into Scatterans' comm system, "we'd hate to scratch the new paint job."
The growl of 6.5 diesel engines roared above the already deafening sounds of gunfire and soaring aircraft as a battalion of Terran marines advanced towards Cauldron Actual; a squad of about thirty men all loaded up in six separate
SC Cruisers, the latest addition to the TAF's light armor inventory. The vehicles revved nimbly between the towering trees and overgrown vegetation that made up the dense jungle of Llohap, easily scaling over the chunks of debris and upturned earth left in the wake of the UCON firefight.
"Calamity Actual, Black Three, this is Camo Five moving up towards Objective Romeo with rolling armor," the lead Terran captain, strapped inside the head cruiser, radioed into the UCON strike team, "we'll cut a nice clean line through this foliage and whatever unfortunate bogies just happen to get in our way. Just keep those eyes in the sky wide open for us. Our scouter's only range so far in these beasts."
---
In the not-so distant jungle, a lone figure moved nimbly across the landscape, garbed head-to-toe in dark, tactical armor that looked far too expensive to be sported by some random pirate lackey. He'd been at work for the last fifteen minutes, moving from tree to tree and planting small devices at their bases. His head turned sharply as he heard an enormous
boom, followed by the sound of approaching convoys. The barracks had been overrun.
He was sprinting a moment later, bounding across the foliage with remarkable speed. He quickly scaled the trunk of a nearby tree, resting himself on one of the branches and pressing his body into the wood, lying perfectly still. A moment later, his armor adapted to his surrounding, the black metal plates literally changing their color and texture to match that if the tree and the surrounding jungle. His heat and sound signature would become non-existent. He was, for all intensive purpose, invisible.