[[You]] are roused from your [[Daydream]] by DENMOTHER, the AI of your [[Tick]].
"Please be advised: Target Vessel is: 4000 Meters out. Impact in: 15 Seconds. Prepare for [[Glory]], Soldiers.
You reach for your [[Weapon]], its weight reasurring, comforting. A known quantity to anchor you in the coming minutes of ceaseless unknowns.
You look over at your Squad, 9 brave men and women, who will follow you into the coming maelstrom.
You are proud of them.
You don't look forward to the funerals and phonecalls.
The Tick slams into the enemy vessel. The high pitched whirring of drills and saws, followed by the hollow, loud, clang of the bulkhead falling, is the only invitation you need.
[[Into the Breach]]Your name is irrelevant, in this context. Names in this day and age mean little about your personal identity; rather, they exist as context, as a means for not just being identified by others, but showing your station within a clear and simple hierarchy. To your Betters, you are 1st Sergeant of "The Bugbears", one of countless squads within the 109th Void Infantry Division. To the people under your command, you are lovingly and generically known as Sarge.
Names don't matter in the Hegemony. Rank and Glory has always been more important. Always. It's not important. Don't worry about it. The contents of this particular flight of fancy were...irrelevant. Truly.
You're gonna have to trust me, here.The common term for the Scarab-Class Boarding Craft of the Void Infantry. The thing about grunts in space is you need something to get them from point A to point B, the space between the two often being many hundreds of kilometers. The Tick is so named for its vaguely insectoid apperance, and its propencity to attach itself parasitically to larger vessels, looking from a distance like ticks swarming a large animal. Glory. It used to be such a nebulous, strange concept. It didn't mean anything of real consequence, once upon a time. Eventually though, through the Hegemony, it came to mean something. Something...concrete. Immutable. True.
The Hegemony of Sol has turned Glory into a currency, in a very literal sense. Every member of the Hegemony has a Hegemonious Glory Count, known colloquially as "Glory".
Glory can't be inherited, and cannot be traded between citizens. Glory is gained at the behest of the government, spent buying goods and services from the government, and lost as punitive action.
AIs known as Valkyries calculate Glory gained and lost, through actions considered moral and honorable, for every citizen.
An assault on a Satrap Battleship will earn you much this day. If you live, of course.The HBR-06 "Damascus" was the Main Battle Rifle of the Void Infantry. It was, in your opinion, a good, solid rifle. it was a medium gauss rifle, able to fire 3-shot bursts, highly modular, light as a feather but more than capable that cracking a Satrap skull with a swift upward motion.
That having been said, the Hegemony has a "bounty" of sorts for engineers, promising simply embarassing amounts of Glory to the person who can develop a better battle rifle than the HBR-06.You left the safety of the craft first, a brave and selfless action that easily netted you at least 10 Glory. You peer down both sides of the corridor your Tick has burrowed into. the [[Satrap]] vessel, like most of its ilk, had semi-organic engineering, with the corridors feeling damp, almost like an artery or lung, with certain more conventional elements crudely married to it; wet, pulsating walls suddenly becoming clanging, metal walkways.
"Alright Sarge, which way we going?" You turn to see a helmeted, scowling "face", identical to yours and the rest of your squad. You've served with this unit long enough to know by his stature that this is Tacitus, a thing you could've figured out without the input from your Heads Up Display.
You ponder the Private's question.
[[South]]
[[North]]"Satrap" is a term that most of your squad didn't...truly get. You knew for a fact that Tacitus and Demius were absolutely sure that "Satrap" was the name for the species of Elephantine void-suit wearing monsters you were fighting. Had they stayed awake during the many Briefing Holos you were given, they would know this simply wasn't the case.
The Stellar Satrapy was the name given to the government and military of the Elephantines. How much of this is direct translation, and how much is extrapolation was never...clear. The path to the South saw a great deal of struggle. You and your squad ambushed a Satrap Engineering and Marines detachment, gunning down about 7 of the stocky yet massive Elephantines. The Satrap Marines opened up with their Rad-Guns, utterly melting Decius, cooking him inside his armor.
The smell. The smell still fucks with you. Its not the screaming, or the popping sound as the eyeballs boil, or the liquidy, sloshing sound of organs becoming liquid. Its the fact that, for a fraction of a second, Decius, like many squad-mates before him, smelled just like a Sunday cook-out before he died.
After dispatching the enemy squad, you receive a silent update from DENMOTHER.
"Schematics found. Follow these directions, and detonate the core."
The Instructions lead you inward, closer to the ship's center.
[[Onward to the Core]]You and your squad make it down the corridor in a northern direction. It wasn't long before you found a closed bulkheead, revealing nothing but empty void beyond it.
Fuck.
"Turn around, this isn't where we need to be."
[[South]] Without Decius, your Squad makes its way to the center of the ship. Thin, arterial corridors give way to vast, open spaces and wide rooms, presumably lunch halls and storage bays. Satrap soldiers and their stout, dog-like combat drones fought against Hegemony soldiers in open spaces, hiding behind what little cover could be found. the smell of burnt flesh and the sound of screams and gunfire were thick enough to cut with a knife.
Privates Hippolyta and Alina took up the front, likely netting the pair of them a fair bit of Glory. Glory which Alina would never get to spend, as a Satrap Rad-Beam tore her asunder, flash-cooking her.
You and your squad rush past the combat, and make your way to the reactor. a pulsing, quietly humming purple cylinder, criss-crossing with thick, meaty cables, covered in displays of text you could not hope to read; the Satrap Learning Annex was 10,000 Glory, and a sergeant's gotta eat.
Private Pullo slaps a splicer onto the cylinder, and taps away at the monitor before making a highly disconcerting "uhhh....."
Pullo turns to face you, his helmet wet with green blood. "Boss, I don't...I don't know what to do! I know...I know its a cliche but like...Red Wire or Green Wire?"
[[Red Wire]]
[[Green Wire]]
There is click, and the quiet humming slowly comes to a close. You have just enough time to exhale a sigh of relief before you are bath in cleansing flame, as the reactor goes critical, vaporizing the entireity of the vessel.
You cut the green wire, and the reactor stops. You continue where Pullo left off, and continue to set the explosive.
"We've completed our objective, head back to the Tick."
Your unit turns, and forms a defensive position around you, as you make your way back to the Tick. The other Hegemony forces around you do the same, each squad fighting a tactical retreat, the exception being 2 squads, who have decided to stay behind and guard the bomb till the very last minute.
You engage in another tense fire fight. You are pinned down, unable to advance, until Pullo comes up with an idea.
"I will run ahead, Sarge! I still have my grenades, I can just bumrush them!"
Before you can chastise Pullo, tell him his idea is wasteful and unecessary, he runs forward, rapidly being cooked by Rad-Beams before detonating in a glorious explosion.
The explosion destroys the enemy squad, but rips a hole in the hull. everyone is rapidly sucked towards it, the void hungrily calling them home.
"Deploy Magboots!"
your soldiers obey, activating the magnetic features of the suit, securing them to the bulkhead. Save for Hippolyta, who was...too slow. You watch in horror as she is sucked out into an uncaring void. You know that Hippolyta, being in vacuum-sealed Bulwark armor, will survive for a while. You also know space is vast, and finding Hippolyta in the flotsam and jetsam of a space battle would be like finding a needle on...not a haystack, but a farm. Hippolyta would likely suffocate eventually, or maybe even starve first.
Hippolyta knows this too, it seems; as she flies away from you, you see the faintest trace of her in the distance, unholstering her sidearm, and putting a bullet in her head.
Fuck.
[[Arrive Back at the Tick]]You and yours make their way back to The Tick. You all pile in, one-by-one. As Squad Leader, you have the priveledge of leaving last, thus gaining the "Last to Retreat" Bonus of 10 Glory.
"DENMOTHER, please disengage from the Vessel. Take us home."
your Tick detaches, flying away into the cold void, towards home.
Home, in this context, was the Xanadu-Class Frigate "Pallbearer". As you streak towards the blocky, ugly, brutalist vessel, the view port lights up, as the un-named Satrapy vessel you boarded explodes in beautiful fuschia light, what little material that remains being scattered across the infinite black.
As you approach the "Pallbearer", the stalwart vessel stands under fire. You watch as massive beams of light crash against it's powerful shields. You watch in horror as the beams eventually pierce the shields, and continue through the other side. Your home buckles, crumbles, and explodes, drifting dead in space. In the frantic attempts to avoid debris, the Tick is struck, destroying its engines. A few attempts to move the vessel prove futile, and you are stuck, floating.
Your squad sits in awkward, scared silence. Private Denia breaks it.
"Wh...What now, Sarge?"
You wordlessly activate the distress beacon, and sit back down in your seat.
"Now we wait, and hope when the smoke clears, there is a vessel left to save us."
[[A Quiet hour passes]] The next hour or so is tense. Gaius tries to take off his helmet, but you talk him down, insisting he wear out the Bulwark armor's supply of oxygen.
There are pinpricks of light in the distance, explosions in the battle they so recently fought in. The distance is too great to determine which ships were being destroyed, and which were reigning victorious.
eventually, there is no more lights, no more explosions. The waiting continues, but its difference, tenser, heavier.
A comm notice blips quietly on the comm panel. The sound was made to be quiet and unassuming, but in the current climate, the sound made everyone jump. you quickly walk over and turn on the panel.
"This is Seargeant Commodus of Bugbear Squad, who is this?"
Silence.
"Bugbear Squad, this is the Xanadu-Class vessel "Architect of Woe". We have detected your distress signal, and would like to pick you up."
There is a collective sigh of relief. Gaius and Aquila let out shouts of glee.
"We'd love that, "Architect". Commodus Out."
You sit down, and the exhaustion of the last hour washes over you. 4 of your squad had died. 40 percent casualties. 4 people who won't be coming home, who won't be earning Glory. You can't worry about that right now. You have to take in the little victories. You lived, your squad has more living members than casualties. The battle, presumably, ended in Hegemony victory.
you slump, and whisper the Void Infantry motto into your muted mic.
"For the dead, Honor. For the living, Glory.
END OF CHAPTER ONE.