The mountain basin had transformed from a blinding nightmare into an eerily quiet killing field as an unnatural fog rolled over the rock face like a heavy canvas, completely swallowing their sight lines and scattering the
Seeker-4 telemetry.
Amidst the swirling ash-gray mist, the fighting had abated, but the battlefield remained fluid and dirty. Sporadic slugthrower rounds pinged off the basalt shelves, and the distant, echoing snarls of scattered Anooba cells tracking their movement through the crags kept the platoon's tactical HUDs continuously flashing amber.
Orrin knelt behind a shattered trimantium pillar, firing a controlled, three-round burst from his G-12 Assault Blaster Carbine to flatten a crazed Mon Calamari skirmisher lunging from a high crevice.
Having subdued the Mon Cal, he tapped his short-range comms, locking the frequency to his senior ground NCO.
"Rampart 2, we've got to keep moving. We're going to have to split the squads," Orrin commanded, his tone calm, steady, and entirely in control.
"The valley is getting crowded, and we can't advance with the wounded. You are staying behind at LZ Beta. Pull an element from Specter and Siren Squads and hold a hard perimeter over the CCP until the last transports arrive."
"Copy that, Sir," Sergeant Major Hamish Horvath rumbled back through his vocoder, his massive gray-and-green frame shifting to a protective posture as he prepared to deliver the new orders to the stay-behind element.
"I'll hold down the drop zone. But what about the fleet, LT? We still have to post the beacons."
"Take the rest of your team and fan them out to the outer perimeters of the main LZ," Orrin directed, snapping a fresh power pack into his carbine.
"Sweep out the remaining crags and eliminate hostile targets as they appear. Once we have the full grid locked down, get the techies to spike-in the nav-beacons and give Stryker Command the all-clear. The fog is blinding. Our heavy birds are going to need that telemetry to land anything in this chop." Leaning closer to the grizzled SNCO, Orrin gestured over his shoulder at the heavy transport boxes tethered to the rear frame of his command team's gear. Speaking just loud enough for his trusted Sgt Major to hear, Orrin added,
"And Hamish, make sure to keep our new "friends" on ice for Lady Asara when she gets on station." Inside the reinforced cages, safely sedated by Siren Squad tactical injectors, were a pair of sleeping Anoobas Orrin had ordered be captured during the aftermath of the previous ambush. It was a startingly deadly breed of local fauna, and Orrin was holding them back as a deliberate surprise for the Mother of Monsters when he finally got to meet her face-to-face. He would settle for letting Horvath have the honor for now.
"Nothin' to it, Boss," Horvath replied, delivering a crisp, disciplined salute before sliding back down the basalt incline to rally the defensive screen.
Turning back to the front line, Orrin raised a gauntleted fist, signaling the core of his direct-action squads.
"The rest of you, form up on me! Resume bounding overwatch. We need to reach those caves, ASAP. Double time it Valkyries!"
With the main force reorganized, Rampart Platoon pressed aggressively north toward the jagged teeth of the mountain cracks, executing silent, fluid bounding movements through the thick mist. They moved as fast as safely possible across the difficult, volcanic terrain, keeping their weapons low as they successfully evaded the fractured remnants of the feral colony.
Battle-worn and tired, but wholly unbroken, the platoon finally crested the northern ridge line, where the massive, dark profiles of Captain Tane's IFVs sat in tactical blocking positions, idling in the smothering fog. Ronhar's main mechanized convoy was already deployed, and one of those that remained above ground, Orrin could see its armor panels scorched where screaming colonists had tried to claw through the durasteel hull.
Bringing his platoon to a disciplined halt just behind the rear security perimeter of an idling armored personnel carrier, Darge crossed the short distance through the fog toward the vehicle's rear command hatch, seeking out the ranking field officer. He pounded his gauntlet twice against the hull, calling out for the section chief.
The heavy rear blast hatch hissed open, revealing a battle-weary Mahporeem NCO. The veteran leader, upon seeing the iconic battleship-gray and tactical field-green markings of MSOC Valkyrie, snapped a quick respectful field salute.
"Ah, Valkyrie Lead. Nice of you to join us, LT. Good to see friendly special forces on my CP," he jokingly grunted, shouting over the deep rumble of the rover's engine blocks.
"This fog is a mess. Scanners are blind, and those crazies kept leaking out of the lower seams like vermin. We are finally seeming to get the lines clear."
Orrin explained, his voice entirely grounded and calm through his vocoder. "
My boys and I are good to go and standing by. I need you to Raise Captain Tane on your net. Let him know the Valkyries have reached his perimeter. If we're gonna push into this fight, we're going to need one of your vicks to catch up."
The trooper nodded sharply, reaching into his console to toggle a high-priority, secure command frequency leading deep into the center of the mechanized push.
"Captain Tane, this is Perimeter Control," the veteran officer transmitted, passing the tactical receiver toward Orrin.
"Rampart 1 has reached the cave complex. He is requesting a SITREP and standing by for your orders. Patching him through to you now."
