"Sustained Combat Unit in route. ETA 20 Minutes."
Taking a deep breath before looking around at his men, Virex lifted his hand and signaled rally. "Gentlemen, the SCU is already en-route. The shield-maiden is high above ready to process any call for fire we may have. We need to clear out those turbo-lasers if possible to allow our troops and armor to hit the ground in one piece. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir." The men stated in unison.
"Good, let's get moving then."
The bowl, as Virex was beginning to call it described the site's location. The facility, mostly mining equipment and littered with destroyed equipment from previous assaults by organizations looking to make a quick buck, was surrounded on all sides by steep terrain increases. His men could likely his both sites, opposite of each other over the ridges of the bowl, but they
would need to move fast. Dividing the team in 2, Virex took one and gave authority for the other to the Team lead. Planning took less than a minute. Both teams would split, the team lead would, together with 6 other men, climb the south side of the bowl, attack the battery and defenders, and take it offline. Virex's team would mirror.
In a burst of energy, the teams formed into columns and began moving fast to their designated areas.
Aside from the odd militiamen, Virex's team made it to the north side of the bowl mostly unresisted. It appears most militiamen were either at the top of the bowl, or hunkering down near the center complex; and the armor was still 30 minutes out at least, so that final assault was out of the question.
Virex looked up at the ridge. The pale-grey dirt shot upwards maybe 50-60 meters, browning slightly near the top. This was gonna be tough, but he dug deep and motioned the team to advance. Tracing a horseshoe of more-leveled soil, the troops were able to climb up to near the top of the ridge somewhat quickly.
Just as Virex neared the top. he let out a deep breath, wiped sweat from his brow and stepped. The instant his helmet cleared the ridge, the sound of a blaster bolt hissed through the air. It felt as if he had been punched square in the head as the bolt struck the top of his helmet and Virex was knocked to the ground. He lay there for a second as two men ran up on him. "You okay sir?"
Helping him to his feet, he brushed his trousers off and cursed under his breath,
"Welp, they know we are here. Gentlemen, mount up, we go over the ridge as one." The men all aligned with the uneven rock wall, stacking up with weapons close. "MOVE!" The squad leaped over the wall, sprinting quickly as blaster-fire near the turbo-laser erupted. maybe 20-30 militiamen had re-enforced the base of the tire, using scrap metal and sandbags along the walkway.
Virex thrust himself behind a jagged outcrop as blaster fire raked the ridge. Dirt kicked up. Sparks flashed. He slid low, heart pumping hard, eyes scanning.
"Targets—sandbags, walkway, scrap barricade!" he called out. "20, maybe more!"
The team didn't flinch. No hesitation. In seconds, they spread across cover, weapons mounted, angles secured.
"Suppressing!" barked one.
A wall of automatic fire erupted. Red bolts tore into the militia's defenses. Metal sparked, sandbags burst. Militiamen ducked—some didn't get back up.
Virex swapped cells. Slammed it home. Popped up—three-round burst, center mass. One down. Another tried to run. Virex dragged the reticle, fired again. Gone.
"Flank left!" he ordered. Two operators peeled off, using debris for cover.
The militia returned fire in volleys—sloppy, panicked. Still, sheer volume lit up the ridge. One bolt sizzled past Virex's visor. Too close.
"Gunner right side—elevated position!" someone shouted.
"On it!" Someone else reasponded.
A VSOG operative dropped prone, braced his rifle, and lit the upper platform. The gunner vanished in a spray of sparks and blood.
"Push now!" Virex ordered.
The squad rose as one. Controlled bursts. Precision. Footsteps fast, deliberate—like a machine moving forward under fire.
A militia group surged from behind a crate wall, screaming, weapons raised.
"Weapons on auto—DROP THEM!"
The VSOG line lit up. The ambushers didn't make ten meters. Smoke lingered where they fell.
Within moments, the team reached the base of the tower. Hearts pounding. Blasters hot.
"Stack up!"
Boots crunched gravel. The entry hatch hissed open—
"DIE SCUM"
The defender got two words out before Virex dropped him with two in the chest.
"Clear!"
Charges set. Countdown started. The team withdrew to cover. Boom.
The tower folded in on itself, fire and steel raining down as the turret crashed. Smoke billowed.
But no time to breathe—comms lit up.
"Heavy resistance—other side. Light armor. Infantry. We're pinned."
Virex raised his binocs. Saw the flash—an OPEX trooper fired a rocket, APC gone in a fireball.
Still not enough.
"Alpha team, air's inbound. We need that second gun down now."
The turbolaser swiveled skyward. Red bolts arced toward the clouds. A shuttle veered—too slow.
BOOM. A wing caught. The ship spiraled, smoke trailing.
Then—another explosion. The second tower. Down.
Virex didn't wait.
"Shield-Maiden, give me that crash site."
Marker pinged. 520 meters.
"Team, regroup with VSOG."
"Where are you going, sir?"
He slung his rifle. Started moving.
"Call it a wellness check."