Shattergrounds

Personal Log: Caporal-chef Marcel Gauthier, Loup-Garous
Outskirts of the Fishing Village of Hammerfest, Olkonir, Concilium Prima
10 October, 80 NC

It had been two days since we had thrashed O-12, but something still felt off. That mission had been too easy. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being played, part of some massive psy op. We had been interrogating the captured ensign, trying to get intel on what was going on at Edda, how much she knew about collusion with the Combined Army and what the hell they had been doing to the MREs. She was not forthcoming, but the lack of reaction to the leeches found in recent MRE crates dispatched and…other things…says much on its own. Seems they do know something is up and have no intention of opposing it. Something truly is rotten in the state of Denmark.

The night was fast approaching when we heard the O-12 drop ships come in. The downdraft as they flew over soaking us as they blew the collected water off the jungle’s plants. Seems they had come to recover their ensign before we could get too much out of her. This would be a hard fight.

The O-12 troopers fast roped down and quickly fanned out and took up positions to close on us. We set ourselves up, ready for the assault, which turned out to be led by Hector, who would ultimately be our undoing. They advanced cautiously down the center at first, trying to sniff out our infiltrated troops and undermine our comms network. Hector led the advance, clearing out our mine that was meant to ambush any unwary passers by and clearing the way for his lackey to undermine our network.

On the left, they moved more aggressively, with a Varangian trying to locate another of our infiltrated Chasseurs but failing. The raptor team then moved forward to attempt the same mission, but they too failed. An O-12 infiltrator moved forward, attempting to discover our two Chassuers. Unfortunately for him, this was a mistake and Caporel Paquet roasted him, scorching the metal building the enemy was hiding on. Running short of options, the Varangian sprayed lead indiscriminately from her chain rifle. The chasseur attempted to counter but was too slow and fell.

With only one casualty, things were going well, too well it would turn out. Mirage 5, landed and charged in on the enemies left flank. Duroc did little at the time, besides look incredibly menacing, which he is very good at. Margot though, inflicted heavy damage, methodically dismantling the enemy fireteam. Her rifle bursts echoing of the dilapidated metal buildings. Caporel Paquet then moved up our left flank, trying to eliminate a blue coat but getting glued to the wall instead.

This is when things started to go wrong, our luck began to fail and our poor positioning only compounded it. On our left, the Raptor team moved up, taking out one of my squad mates and quickly following up with the elimination of our specialist doctor, who had just finished training with Haqqislam. His loss was sorely missed.

Hector engaged Margot and won the shootout after a few rounds. Plasma is a nasty weapon to face, as it sears all it touches. The Varangian then proceeded to charge the glued Paquet, rendering him unconscious by knocking his head into the wall, paint chips fluttering down off the rusted metal from the impact.

Duroc advanced to secure the enemy beacon, engaging Hector in a duel, being hit multiple times by the plasma rifle, which was casually shrugged off before managing to obscure himself in smoke. He secured the beacon, but we failed to give him orders to advance with it, so instead sat with it.

Meanwhile, our Apache moved to grenade the raptor, he succeeded, but they are powerful foes and would require more effort to kill. Sergent Foucault would rise to the task. He moved back from the leaking barrels he had taken cover behind and drew a line on the raptor, promptly eliminating him. He followed up against the Varangian that had taken cover between the derelict structures, but was foiled by the wall of smoke deployed by the petit lâche. His attack foiled, he moved on to the second Varangian who had wounded Paquet, avenging his comrade under a hail of bullets.

Hector resumed his duel with Duroc, unfortunately this time he fell to the machine man’s plasma. The remaining Varangian then advanced, forcing Foucault back and clearing the mine blocking her path. She continued her charge, determined to eliminate Foucault. She made a berserk charge against him, the flat of her sword crashing down on his head, rendering him unconscious, but not before he was able to toss explosives at her feet, that detonated as he collapsed, turning the Varangian into a cloud of red mist and bloody bits that splattered the walls beside them. Hector, free from dealing with Duroc charged down the now cleared lane to recover the ensign we had captured. We knew he was coming, but out position left us unable to intercept. Only our “trusty” Jacques could have seen him, and he was facing the wrong way, having been consumed by his bloodlust. I suppose the silver lining is that his foolishness will no longer hamper us. The infinitely damned man machine snatched up the ensign and retreated to his lines.

We were now the one in desperate straits, with little time remaining, we were forced to make decisions, that in hindsight were poor. Our remaining Apache charged forward, wounding the man machine with his heavy pistols before attempting to engage in melee. His strikes were deflected, and he was rent in two. My squad leader Lemaire then hopped to the ground and engaged Hector, his shots impacting harmlessly against the rusting buildings he was sheltering in. His return shot was true, and Lemaire’s luck ran out and he was killed. At this point, we were forced to withdraw, our valuable prisoner stolen from beneath our noses. If only I had gone with my instinct and been the one to engage, we would likely have eliminated the damned Hector and recovered our prisoner. I have learned a hard lesson for next time, for this cannot be allowed to happen again!

Vive la Merovingia!

OOC: Store was closing so I didn't get pictures for the last turn. Rushing is not fun.