They came out at the jump point without incident. Jan was grateful. He’d never enjoyed jump space, the sensation never went right with him. Sometimes ships just didn’t make it.
The satellites deactivated their defensive batteries once they flashed their approval codes. It was an encouraging sign that the transport was able to use official routes and not a pirate point.
It took a week of in system travel for them to reach the target world. They travelled in convoy. The Corinthians for the most part seemed happy to just fight planetside but there was still the risk of suicide runs by modified mining haulers.
Mostly the mercenaries took advantage of the time to train, check over equipment, and rest. Jan distributed briefing material to his section but only three made use of them and two of those skipped straight to the section on nightlife.
The daily drills in the cargo holds were more productive. Even those from the same service had been in different corps or units. Everyone had their own way of doing things. This way they could standardise. Skill fade had been a massive issue. A couple of years working in an office really took the edge off infantry skills.
There were sixty of them on the advance party. The freighter captain let them use an ancillary cargo hold for their briefing. Foldout seats and benches surrounded a hastily set up holo projector. The room was busy with men and women chattering while the officers clustered at the front.
Jan was one of the last in, taking a free seat near the front. Alicja was talking to Piotr Demski. Ostensibly the attack commander, he’d made no effort to get to know his subordinates during their transit to Corinth. He’d spoken to Jan twice, one of which was to ask where the latrines were.
Heads, he corrected himself with a smile, the sailors aboard didn’t like ground terminology. Pawel caught his eye and raised his eyebrows in query. Jan half raised his hand in dismissal, it’s nothing.
A grim looking redhead was recalibrating the holo. The display flickered before flashing up a 3d model of Corinth. She rose with a satisfied smirk.
Piotr turned and held up his hands. “Ladies, gentlemen, please”. The half hearted attempt only momentarily quelled the conversations. Some of the harder cases were now looking at the officer wondering who’s this cunt? Alicja glared before clearing her throat “Shut it!”.
“Thank you” Piotr said as if she hadn’t had to restore order. “I’m glad you could all be here”. Pure politician answer, as if they were going to miss it after nearly two weeks stuck on the ship. He was acting like he was addressing a battalion rather than a reinforced platoon.
“Firstly, some introductions. I am Piotr Demski, for the purposes of this, I will be Attack Commander, responsible for tactical control”. Pawel leaned in to whisper in Jan’s ear. “No ranks for this?”. Piotr himself didn’t look happy about it, he seemed more comfortable with the idea of someone addressing him as sir.
“Alicja Nowak” indicating the blonde to his right “Shall be platoon commander”. At least someone competent was going to be running the show at the sharp end.
“Ms. Aithche Wierz, responsible for overall command and control as well as logistics and medical support”. The redhead nodded curtly. She had intelligence written all over her, definitely not a grunt type.
“Of course our employers for this, Mr Caelan Fletcher who will liaise with the Dacian authorities and Mr John Jianlin”. The suits seemed ill fitting on the pair of middle aged men. They wore insincere smiles and their eyes took in everything.
“I also present Aisling Kelly, OC of air assets”. A middle aged brunette, she was definitely military. She stood slightly apart from the rest of the group like she didn’t want to be associated with them.
“Now as to preliminaries, this is Corinth,” he indicated the planet. Aithche zoomed in the display as he spoke “And here is our target, the deuterium refinery in the Varna region on the southern continent”. The display showed an aerial plan and a visual display of the refinery area side by side.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“If you’ll consult your tablets for the OPORD”. Jan glanced down to the condensed summary.
- SITUATION
Enemy forces (Corinthian Militia – believed to be territorials) currently occupy and operate refinery complex SE-3. Morale assessed as moderate, discipline poor, equipment antiquated. Enemy likely to reinforce via coastal artillery positions. Dacian allied forces conducting seaborne assault to the west. - MISSION
Red platoon is to conduct aerial insertion inland of SE-3 and neutralise resistance in depth. Objective is to disrupt defensive cohesion and secure refinery access routes. Capture of key nodes prioritised over total clearance. - EXECUTION
Phase 1: Aerial insertion via low-altitude dropship. Suppression fire on LZ during exit.
Phase 2: Advance southward, link up with allied forces, clear beach approaches.
Phase 3: Establish foothold near refinery perimeter for follow-on mechanised assets.
ROE: Fire at will on armed personnel. Avoid damage to fuel storage infrastructure.
- SERVICE & SUPPORT
Supply: 72-hour field kit standard.
Armour: 4x Dacian MBTs (condition unknown).
Air Support: 1x gunship on-call, limited engagement window.
Medical: Field triage initially. - COMMAND & SIGNAL
CO: Lt. A. Liszkiewicz (Red Zero)
Net Protocols: Red short-band, platoon intra-squad.
Fallback rally: Grid DZ-4 (“The Needle”). No extraction until confirmation of Phase 2 success.
Challenge: Morning/Thunder
Jan looked up and raised his hand. He wasn’t the only one. Piotr didn’t look happy but forced a gracious expression on his face, “Yes?”. “Jan Blaszek, section two commander. I don’t see much of a medplan here”.
A few head nods in acknowledgement. Piotr shook his head “Stabilise on site. Once phase 2 is completed then we can look at it”. Aisling cut in before he could waffle any more. “I’ll need a clear LZ” she said in a musical accent but her eyes were serious as she locked eyes with Jan, “Get me cover and I’ll be there”. He nodded but didn’t answer.
“Anything else?” Piotr said. Another mercenary spoke up. “Why the limited engagement window for the gunship if their base is less than 50km away?” The mercenary pilot covered a smile with her mouth. Piotr’s voice was strained as he answered “Technical issues though our Dacian employers assure us this will be rectified”. His face went red at the derisive sounds from the mercenaries.
It went on like that for a few minutes more until a halt was called. Jan shook his head and walked alongside Pawel out of the cargo hold. “What do you reckon?” his 2IC asked, pointing back at the room.
“That intelligence officer has a lot riding on this. The pilot seems to know what she’s doing too. Demski’s going to be the real worry”. “Yeah him, and half the platoon,” Pawel said.
They were a mixed bag. Mostly from Visegrád or nearby worlds, they were meant to be ex-servicemen. There were definitely a few creative alterations on those CVs. Two of Jan’s turned out to be ex-policemen. No doubt fine for policing a riot or room clearing but they seemed ill prepared for a multi day operation.
The first indication was when a young mercenary asked how to insert the plates for his body armour. Another had to make two trips from the armoury, laden down with gear. Alicja stared blankly at some of these wannabe heroes. A budding sniper was struggling to figure out how to sling his assault rifle alongside his scoped rifle while also trying to stick on a quick draw holster for his revolver.
“They’ll learn fast” was all Jan said to her. Most of the ex-infantry had given up trying to correct reformed paramilitaries or spec ops rejects. They quietly packed their patrol packs for 72 hours. It was amazing how quick you filled up even with the bare minimum.
He kept it simple. His sleeping system and one change of clothes. If he got wet then he could sleep in the dry ones and work in the wet. Rations and water. Ammo, ammo, ammo, though he’d seen their platoon sergeant loading supply bags with spares to haul in with them.
The mercenary pilot surprised them all by turning up to help with loading the dropships. She supervised stowing the kit and got stuck in herself to muscle some of the more awkward gear aboard. Alicja invited her with the NCOs for a drink back in her own quarters. It was pure rotgut from one of the ship stills but it did the job.
The conversation was polite enough, mostly restricted to professional curiosity and mutual acquaintances. Alicja got to the crux of the matter when they were three quarters of the way down the bottle.
“We’re going to need air support and medevacs when we call, we can’t rely on the locals”. Aisling nodded and studied the bottle, rotating it slowly in her hands. She didn’t hesitate, outlaws sometimes need each other. “I’ve been on the ground before,” she said, meeting Ala’s gaze. “I’ll be there”.