Prologue: Turn 0Preparations are Essential, Right Now!MC tensely chewed his cigar as he surveyed the Beastman camp through his night vision goggles. "MC" was not his given name, of course, nor was "Mission Control"; both were nicknames bestowed by his men. He shook his head in disgust at the state of the enemy defenses- no barbed wire, no turrets, a sleepy night watch composed of a few wandering Beastmen loosely carrying an odd assortment of weapons. Four collapsible watch towers surrounded the camp, spotlights probing the night. The Beastmen were arrogant, even with their Ganmen- it would be child's play to kill a couple dozen and fade away into the night.
MC had bigger plans in mind, however.
Beyond the pickets the Beastman camp was lost in shadow, a great cluster of tents, parked vehicles of strange design, and large stockpiles of unknown content. At the heart of it all was the hanger, a huge metal structure built to house the Ganmen, their pilots, and their commanders. MC did not know what made the Beastmen decide to place the hanger here, but every day they sallied forth to destroy villages, hunt refugees and smash resistance groups, and every night they returned here to rest before doing it all again the next day.
They weren't going to get a "next day" this time.
MC flicked his comm on. "All squads, report in."
Slinger checked to make sure everyone had made it to the rendezvous point safely before examining the path before him. Spotlights from the North and West towers lazily played over the plains, but were unable to penetrate the underbrush that grew right up to the guards. Unfortunately, he could pick out half a dozen guards waiting just beyond.
He tapped his earpiece. "Team Alpha, positioned to the Northwest."
'Slinger' Marco Kelarn, Dual Pistols
'Deadman' Scott Dudman, Shotgun
Remy 'Nitro' Maelle, Drill
Charles Sauk, Crowbar
Toaster spat, looking at the flat, empty plain between himself and the Beastman camp. Bare dirt and rocks, no cover to speak of. That was probably the reason the guard was lightest here, but he'd bet anything that the guards in the North and East towers had sniper rifles just looking for a target.
"Beta here, ready to roll from the Northeast."
'Toaster' Tim Duncan, Rocklet Rifle
Grave Longdam, Halberd
Marcus 'Chewtoy' Phillips, Fire and Explosives
Gale peered toward the Beastman base. There wasn't much cover here, but the ground was uneven, providing small ridges to hide behind if a roving spotlight came too near. A few guards stood laughing loudly near some kind of truck.
"Team Charlie is in position. Ready to attack from the Southeast."
'Gale' Nikolai Fuitera, Spiked Vulcan
'Blade' James Bellman, Sword
Artu Furar, Gunblade
Trisha scowled. She didn't like what she saw one bit. Sparse undergrowth ran right up to the camp, the rock ground providing some little cover from the searchlights shining from the nearby guard towers. Apart from that, however, this side of the camp appeared completely devoid of guards. Defenseless.
Even Beastmen couldn't be
that stupid.
Unhappily, she activated her comm unit. "Delta Team, Southwest. Awaiting the signal."
Trisha MacNeill, SCAR-H
'B.A' Darwin A. Sanchez, Sr, Brass Knuckles
Ryan 'Marxist' Wills, Sniper Rifle
Zachary 'Zenni' Johnson, Dual Knives
MC sighed, taking in the sprawling Beastman camp. They could kill three Beastmen for every man lost here and still be eradicated, hardly a bump in the Beastman conquest. It was a suicide raid, plain and simple. But it was better than retreating to some hole in the ground, better than hiding his whole life. Better than his children hiding, and their children.
He turned away from the camp, walking back to the few men and women he had in reserve, none of them trained warriors. He tapped his comm, giving the signal to attack.
"Row, Row, Fight the Power!"
Objective: Secure Ganmen Hanger