Namyr must have stood outside Snipes' office door for a good five minutes. She could already smell the stale cigarettes he smoked leaking out the door's cracks. Being ASL she didn't realize that it meant that she was the personal lackey of Snipes, how many times this week alone had she gotten a phone call from him saying that he had an emergency only to arrive at his apartment to find out he was all out of rum. Now her own boyfriend was using her as a personnel delivery service. Nothing like him showing up at the apartment after a week of no calls or messages, sweeping her off her feet, then the morning after handing her a disk to give to Snipes, getting dressed and hightailing it to wherever he went for weeks at a time. She knew she couldn't complain some couples didn't see one another for months at a time. Well she didn't really have anyone to complain to now, Darr was gone, Leon gone, and now Rogueboy. Who else was there, Dante? She hardly knew the kid, not to mention he was still calling her, 'ma'am.'

Namyr opened the door to Snipes' office wrinkling her nose, nothing like smelling smoke and booze on an empty stomach. Her upper lip quivered in disgust as she peered through the haze to find Snipes sitting at his desk, and he looked like shit. In fact she was pretty sure she had never seen him come to work clean shaven, always a week worth of stubble and a wrinkled uniform. No wonder the squad was getting into the habit of coming to her for information, questions, and general problems plaguing them. Namyr and Snipes stared one another down, and here it was the daily banter between the two of them to let each other know how much they cared for one another.

"Asshead."

"Bitch."

"Drunk."

"Cunt," Namyr had to admit she was better at name calling, Snipes usually just used whatever curse word that came to mind. Still, she was pretty sure that he was still sore about her, accidentally,' kneeing him the groin at training practice the day before. Just as he had, accidentally,' groped her while they were explaining defensive actions while in a fight, she accidentally,' dropped him with a padded knee to his man bits.

"Rogue asked me to give this to you," Formalities were out of the way now and the SL and the ASL were down to business. Snipes slid a glass to Namyr who picked it up but didn't pour a drink instead she turned her complete attention to watching Snipes trying to figure out the password to the disk. She smirked slightly, but the smile quickly disappeared as a mini version of Rogueboy popped up on the holograph. She let herself go a little dreamy eyed, she did miss seeing him prance around everyday like a loon. Raider's just wasn't the same, her heart ached a little, she hated change, with a passion.

"Well this is certainly a switch." Rogueboy started off, "This is the way it works, an independent imperial planet right beyond the edges of our territory is experiencing a revolt. The uprising it seems happened very suddenly and the government was overthrown rapidly. Some of the military has retreated to a canyon and is holding up in the cave system. They contacted us once they realized they had little or no hope of winning against the revolutionary army. They've agreed to integrate into our ranks if we save their asses. Now, Snipes, if you're not already slobbering drunk you're all pissed about RAIDERS having to do this." He was right, Snipes didn't see why the multi-environment squad had to do it. "Well, during their retreat the command of the guys we're going to save deployed a shit-ton of radiated material to slow the advance of the revolutionaries. It's working damn well really, however we can't get a transport large enough for all of them in that system for at least four days, we predict that the revolutionaries will have reached their camp in less than three days. A day of travel time tops and you'll be there, that means you have to disrupt the revolutionaries attempt to clear the radiation until we can get transports in there to EVAC the regulars. Hurry your ass up and get there," Namyr seeing that Snipes wasn't writing down any of the shuttle information quickly inputed it into her datapad and sent a message out to the Raider's Squad.

Raiders,

Report to the Mission Briefing Room within one hour. Anyone late will get triple Extra Military Instruction.

SGT Namyr


"Well, Nams," Snipes said, Namyr looked up with suspicion since when did Snipes use her squad nickname, usually he just said something vulgar to get her attention, "You heard the man, assemble the troops, I'll brief in-flight. The radiation will wreck havoc on blasters so tell them only projectiles and blades, Rad-trooper armor is on the transport so no problem there. We've got a couple hours before we have to ship off, but I'd rather be out-a here early."

Namyr's lips became a thin line, she was not doing something that Snipes should be doing himself. She was not gathering the sheep, she had enough work to do, checking off equipment, fighting with the supply clerk for equipment that work, setting up plans so the squad wouldn't die as soon as they showed up on site. Was it so much to ask Snipes to sober up enough to greet his squad himself. Namyr's eye twitched a little, maybe it was a combination of stress, her personal life, and maybe a little PMS. But no rash thoughts came to her mind as she reached across Snipes' desk and grabbed him by the collar.

'The Squad doesn't trust you yet, you're just some officer, and not a good one at that how you've been presenting yourself to them, come on time for you to get sober," Namyr shouted removing her grip on Snipes' collar and grabbing the back of his neck and dragging him to the half bath. Her iron grip held onto the squirming Snipes, filling the sink with cold water she proceeded to dunking Snipes' head underwater many times.

'You're such an asshole, treating me like some lowly assistant, drinking while in uniform and on duty. Killing yourself with those things you call cigarettes," she how many times had she been called to those emergencies only to come back with whatever booze Snipes had wanted to find him passed out on the floor. How many times had she cleaned him up and dragged his sorry ass to bed so he could sleep off the alcohol. Or better yet how many times did she rush him to the bathroom to puke only to have him puke on her instead? "Now you're giving me all the work of this squad and you expect all those younger soldiers to listen to you when shots are firing around their heads? Fuckin' sad excuse for a man that's what you are,' she stated throwing the soaking wet Snipes to the floor of the bathroom and sneering at him, "Clean yourself up, shave, and damnit get a clean uniform, at least look the part for mission briefings," she then walked out of the bathroom wincing as Snipes called after her.

"You only do this because you love me!" she once again would kill him later as she put together a pot of coffee and left it to percolate.

"Asshole," Namyr growled swiping the water off of her uniform and leaving the room to go shower the smell of cigarettes off of her and to change into her Stormtrooper Armor.

Snipes pulled his head out of the water with a grin. He enjoyed aggravating his ASL. Someday he knew she'd learn just to tell him to piss off. He stretched out in the bathroom. The water had ruined his cigarette, so he tossed it into the toilet and wandered out to his desk. He threw himself unceremoniously into the chair and pulled another cigarette from his desk, lit it and got to work. Requisition forms had to be filled out, battle plans drawn up, supplies gathered. Snipes sighed, missing the days when he and Wraith could just hop on one of his ships with their full armories and bypass all the bureaucracy. No rest for the wicked.

The requisition forms had been a royal pain. Snipes hated them. What he hated even more still was how long it took the requisitions staff to process them. Snipes hadn't been making small requests either. 10x Automatic Slugthrowers, 10x Slugthrower pistols (silenced), 10x Vibro-swords, 2x Flamethrowers, 1x E-Web. The list went on, so he knew better than to stop by the office any sooner than half an hour after sending the request. He sighed and leaned back, exhaling smoke again. He was going to have to do something productive. He turned his head and smelled his armpit. Shower. He grunted at the thought, knew it was a good idea to do it now though, no telling how long it would be before he could do it again. And hell, it's not like I'd have given her the job if she didn't know anything. Snipes got up and made his way the refresher, snubbing a cigarette out on his way.

* * *

The office clerk was as useless as ever. It had taken a large amount of swearing and threatening to get all the equipment he had wanted. There was an especially heated argument about certain flamethrowers they couldn't justify giving him. But he got them. And now he was watching equipment get loaded onto their transport. It was one of those that was usually used to transport an entire platoon short distances, but the extra room on this one was being used for supplies to aide the imperial faction. Lots of medical supplies as well as some radiation clearing equipment, several crates of blaster packs and a crate of E-11's. Useless in the radiation, but they'd be handy enough for the regulars to defend their caves with.

Along with the RAIDERS three doctors, four nurses and two engineers were riding along. Snipes hadn't expected the Vast Empires commitment to the cause would be so great. But then he didn't know the state of the Regular Army. Maybe they needed guys bad, maybe they needed information. Stars knew the RAIDERS weren't getting very much, even the planet they were going to was classified, only people on the transport that got to know where it was were the pilots. Snipes hated stuff like that.

He spun to leave but found his ASL standing directly behind him, glaring. Snipes wanted to sigh and offer her a drink, she needed one, but for once he wasn't trying to piss her off. "The ass hats are taking a god damn year loading the frellen P.O.S.. Departure has been delayed twenty minutes. That gives us a glorious forty minutes to play with, Send the troops another reminder, chances are they're just having a hell of a time at the requisitions office, I know I did, I'm going to drop by there and then check in on a couple last minute details."

"If you're going to the bar. . ."

"I'd tell you. It'd be irresponsible of me not to be easily found." She snorted but kept her mouth shut. Which Snipes was glad for, he didn't really care to get in an argument in public. Praise in public, punish in private. Rizzit had taught him that, it was a good motto.

As Snipes walked away he knew he couldn't blame her. He wasn't your average uptight Squad Leader and he probably did come off as worthless. Despite his valiant attempts she refused to get drunk with him. He wasn't sure he could blame her there either. But Snipes believed the only way to ever know some one was to either get drunk with them or go into battle with them. At last he'd get a chance to get to know the squad.

* * *

Snipes had been right about half the squad getting stuck at the requisitions office. Snipes had been forced to make a couple calls to friends in order to grease the process. One of the perks of having been in the army far longer than most. Still FireMane and Rakysh had been missing. When he had finally found them in a slums hotel room he had regretted it. Fiercely. It was a sight he was never going to get out of his head. He'd left them, they hadn't seen him, being rather distracted with. . .other activities. He just opened the door, regretted it, turned around and left. There might not of been anything morally wrong with it, but the physics of it bothered even Snipes a bit.

On his way back to the docks he stopped by the VESA offices to see a friend of his. He managed to score three free cartons of cigarettes. Nams was going to be pissed. Snipes knew it. But these weren't for him, he was taking them to hand out to the regulars when they reached planet side. Snipes wasn't sure if Namyr knew exactly what a simple pleasure like a cigarette could bring to men like that, chances were they were running low on everything, a luxury like that would help their moral. Besides,  professional soldiers rarely worried about the health risks of something like a lung full of smoke when there were health risks like blaster bolts flying all around.

Loot shoved idly into the deep pockets of his old swooper jacket, he made his way back towards the loading bay, ship was probably pretty near finished being loaded by now. A group of junkies scampered to the other side of the street, Snipes had seen them coming, pulled the long jacket out the the way and rested a hand on his shotgun. Nams probably wouldn't like that either, but Snipes had been wearing it since the days when RAIDERS were General Infantry. Snipes yawned and stretched again. Hopefully he'd be able to catch a nap in flight, depending on how long the briefing went on and how long it took him and Namyr to work out battle plans, not that they had much information to go on anyway, chances were it would have to be revised after talking to the allies commander.

"Listen lady your SL already came by and ordered what you needed on this mission I'm not filling out your supply order," the large sweaty man from behind the counter stated biting into a greasy sandwich and staring at Namyr's chest the entire time she tried to speak to him.

"Well my SL managed the weapons we'd need but we need other supplies, like medical supplies, shield equipment, rations, we don't know how long we'll be down there," Namyr argued back her hands turning into fists.

"Sorry nothing I can do, hey you can't..." the fat man choked on his sandwich as Namyr easily lept over the counter, grabbed a droid and proceeded to fill out the supply list herself.

"Like hell I can't, you're in violation of Order 4598.3-a, when a squad is going out to the front line all basic equipment must be given at the SL and ASL's digression," Namyr spoke her eyes narrowing as the droid carried the load to the hangar, "Furthermore, I would suggest next time you cover your tracks before messing with someone I can already count twenty offenses listed in the Vast Empire Army regulations on your person alone. Not to mention your personal grooming standards leave something for a woman to desire. Good day to you Corporal," Namyr tipped her cover before leaving to head to the hangar. "Scumbag," she added shaking her head.

Walking into the hangar she made her way to the shuttle the Raiders were suppose to take off planet. To her surprise the first one there was Snipes and what surprised her even more was he was somewhat clean looking. She looked around warily, she half expected a camera to pop out for some game show and prove this was all a prank. Well at least she wouldn't have to breath out of her mouth the entire mission so she didn't get sick on the cigarette/booze smell that always hovered around Snipes in an almost gray haze.

"The ass hats are taking a god damn year loading the frellen P.O.S.. Departure has been delayed twenty minutes. That gives us a glorious forty minutes to play with, Send the troops another reminder, chances are they're just having a hell of a time at the requisitions office, I know I did, I'm going to drop by there and then check in on a couple last minute details," Snipes said to Namyr as he spun around and she frowned even more.

"If you're going to the bar. . ." Namyr began the wrinkle on her forehead deepening, last thing she needed was to drag around a drunk Snipes the entire mission.

"I'd tell you. It'd be irresponsible of me not to be easily found," Namyr snorted sarcastically, that was the truth she could easily narrow down the places he was passed out just due to character. She watched Snipes leave and shook her head again. Then she looked at the men and droids who were slowly loading the shuttle with all the equipment. Well, the supplies weren't loading any faster with her just standing there. Stripping off her uniform jacket so that she was only wearing the tank top under shirt, pants, and boots Namyr set to work hauling boxes onto the shuttle.

"Well come on Raiders, get to work, the faster this stuff is loaded, the faster we can leave," she half ordered the Raiders Squad after a little bit of grumbling they also got to work.


There was nothing better then work that only involved muscles, with no lasers shooting at you, or trying to find an opening in another person's blade technique. Namyr found moving supplies almost relaxing. Sweat soaked her tank top and coated her skin, some of the droids had decided to break down during the loading process and the heavier boxes had to be lifted by teams. Namyr's arm muscles ached and were flexed more then usual revealing the muscle from their usual shapely skin.

"Sgt, what in the hell are you doing to my squad?" Snipes' voice echoed around the hangar as Namyr, Dante, and a few of the dock workers set and rather large box in the ship's storage area.

"Putting them to work," Namyr grinned walking down the ramp, "Take a break we're almost done anyway," she called over her shoulder. Crossing her arms she looked at Snipes with amused eyes, "You miss all the fun, we actually did something quite strange for you, its called work," she joked wiping her brow on her shirt.

"Ha, ha, Nams, I can't leave for more then five minutes to find you taking over the squad and giving them orders," Snipes shook his head his gaze looking over the sweaty faces of his squad.

"Well someone has to keep them in line," Namyr shrugged, she was in too good of a mood to be snarky to Snipes, "Hey which reminds me, I have a guy that owes me one," she said reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a simple silver cigar case, "And he just happens to be one of the galaxy's number one experts in tobacco and other plants that can be smoked. So I called him up, and being nice, I got you a crate of some of the best cigars he's ever made," Namyr shrugged handing the case to Snipes, "The rest of them are in your office. I figured if you're not going to quit smoking you might as well smoke something that actually smells better and has a lower percentage of tar and other harmful substances and higher percentage of nicotine. Just a thought, and of course one cigar is like ten cigarettes, if I've made my point," Namyr grinned casually.

Snipes blinked a few times and then looked around expecting a camera crew to pop out, none came, "Nams, you sure you don't want to go and get a drink?"

Namyr chuckled, "No not with you Snipes, see when I drink I like to dance and frankly you don't look like the dancing type, no not flinging you arms around and yelling, 'wooooo, wooooo.' Actual dancing with actual steps that go with the music."

"No offense," Snipes spoke lighting up one of the cigars, "You don't seem like the dancing type either, the stick up your ass would make it impossible."

"Hardy, harr harr, shows how much you know about Twi'leks," Namyr rolled her eyes, "Tell you what, do some research about Twi'leks, learn more then us being sex symbols, then ask me for that drink, I might say yes," Movement from the corner of Namyr's eyes caused her to look towards it to see one of the dock workers trying to carry a box obviously too long and to heavy for him to handle.

"Hey, what the hell are you trying to do, break your back?' Namyr yelled running over and shouldering the box with the guy, 'don't break your back for the Empire, its not worth it," she added helping the guy unload the box on the ship.

"Hey Snipes, make sure to look over the paperwork that we have everything and that all the plans are there," Namyr added and grabbed another box to load.

Snipes snorted at the new guy. Not directly at him. Not even in his presence. Not because he gave a shit what the guy thought, but because his brain didn't get to a point that was snort worthy until he'd already trudged into the ship. Snipes had been forced to tell him not to go the requisitions office, they didn't have time. The last box had been loaded and Snipes followed it into the hold. The door shut behind him, shutting off all natural light. He was forced to navigate the crates with just the poor hold lighting. Not that this was really a hold. It was part of the troop transport that had the seats removed for cargo. Snipes finished making his way through the crates and made it into the area with the rest of the RAIDERS. It was actually a long area of seats lining one bulkhead, then another row across from it against a half bulkhead. The other side was set up the same.

Snipes found himself a seat across from most of the RAIDERS, Dante was on his left though, the rest lined the half bulkhead. It was natural for stormtroopers to group together, it was something bred into them during training. Another thing was to always find the best cover. The half bulkhead would be the best, most protected from any torpedoes or blasters that would hit the ships hull. Snipes nodded to them, they didn't say anything really, there wasn't anything to be said. Namyr walked around checking harnesses. Army pilots were notorious for their poor take offs and landings. Once she was done he strapped herself in next to him and gave him a nod. Snipes keyed his comlink and gave the pilot the go ahead.

Snipes had fallen asleep at some point while they were breaking orbit. He awoke to find most of the RAIDERS playing a dice game on the floor. Snipes unlatched himself and got up. Stretching, he pulled another one of Nams cigars from his breast pocket and stuck it in his mouth. He lit it with his old lighter and savored the flavor. It really was a good cigar.

* * *

Namyr finally found Snipes, he was sat in one of the three heads on the craft. He sat on the toilet, with the seat down, cigar firmly in his mouth, with battle plans and Intel spread across the sink and small counter across from him. He looked up as she entered the room, the door had been open.

"Ah, you're here, was just about to go looking for you."

"Why are you in here."

"Best lighting, only chair. Anyway, come here," He gestured to a spot in front of the counter. "Alright, so the allies are here," He pointed to a spot at the end of a canyon on one of the maps, the map showed a network of caves and tunnels continuing after the end of the canyon," Now apparently there's a waterfall falling down through the rocks right before where the canyon starts, this is how the regulars have been getting water, anyway, they're held up in this caves system. As they retreated they laid down timed explosives that when they went off left almost the entire canyon floor seeped in radioactive material. Because the canyon walls are too narrow to land a shuttle close enough to their caves to avoid the radiation and because there's no other way to effectively enter the cave system, and probably due in a great deal to the lack of experience the rebels have, they've been trying to clear this radiation to make a path to the cave system. They have a temporary base set up here," He scrolled the map over to the other end of the canyon and pointed at a little blip on one of the canyon walls. "Our mission of course is to disrupt these attempts to clear the radiation until the Vast Empire can come save these guys, so I say. . ."

"How are we getting in in the first place?"

"I think we're going to have to enter the caves through the hole the waterfall eroded, it seems to be roughly 2x2 meters large. We have enough cables to lower the equipment down through there as well. We can land over here and we'll have to deploy that beautiful PLX system in case they send aircraft."

"Could deploy a couple E-Webs as well, if they're that untrained a couple warning shots from something that scary looking might chase them off."

"Good plan, Anyway, back to the battle plan. Chances are they're using space suits to handle the radiation, which works, but our armor is made to be light, I tried some of it on, it's almost as good as the commando armor, they won't have much chance, we need to use this canyon wall for cover, since it seems to have an overhang, and move toward where they're clearing the radiation. First thing we do is discourage that. Preferably by destroying everything that looks like it could ever be used for such nonsense.
"They may try moving in with tanks, if that happens we'll have to breach a hatch and play hot potato, any equipment we bring, save maybe my big rifle, that will breach a tank hull won't function right in the radiation.

"Why not take your 'big rifle' along," Namyr made air quotes, What the hell? Big rifle? Is that a sex joke?.

"Because I'm the only one that can shoot it and I'm not playing sniper, a man who leads from the rear takes it in the rear."

"Anyway, what about the base." Moving along.

"We deal with that after the radiation clearing, if we have to at all. The best way I think is lots and lots of things that go boom."

* * *

"Alright, go catch some sleep, we've got about half an hour before we hit atmosphere." Snipes finished the briefing. He had already donned his Rad-trooper armor. It was still bulkier than the Commando armor he was used to, but it wasn't bad, the difference wasn't enough to cause Snipes any worry, just irritation. The helmet hung from his belt. Nobody liked being briefed by a man without a face.

"Leon!"

The Senior Sergeant grunted, not even turning to acknowledge Dante's presence. Taking the hint, Dante decided not to raise the question of his presence.

They pulled him out of Raiders so fast, he had already started packing for the Yuka mission. Last I heard, he was with the Dragoons on some hush-hush mission to the heart of the New Republic, so what in blazes is he doing here?

Shrugging, Dante picked up his equipment packs and walked up the ramp's transport. Sniping 101 was already inside, as was the rest of the squad. Leaving one bag in the hold, Dante carried the other to his seat and took a seat. There was little or none of the normal before-mission chatter and, as the clunk of the bag echoed through the hold, Dante had a feeling everyone was watching him.

What's so interesting?

Then, as he looked down, he saw that there was a huge hole in his bag, with a curved blade sticking out.

Sithspawn.

Quickly, he removed the spike rifle he had requisitioned from the armoury and carried the rest of the equipment to the other pack in the back. He had noticed the exotic slugthrower because of those same blades, which had quite literally had stuck out when Dante had scanned the rows of rifles. The clerk, who had still been upset about Dante's barging past him, had sneeringly called it a "glorified nail gun". Needless to say, he had changed his tune after a test firing. The superheated spikes had shrieked through the air, melting the reinforced plastoid of the now-smoldering  dummy and leaving acrid fumes in the chamber's air.

According to the records, the exotic weapon had been picked up from an Outer Rim planet called Doisac by an Imperial sentientologist team before the Galactic Civil War. It had somehow ended up with the Tadeth garrison, along with dozens of ammunition cases. It was surprisingly heavy for a weapon of its size, but it more than made up for this with its efficiency. Tests had shown that it was more than capable of rendering flesh and armour, and could even take down some weak energy shields after a clip or two. Now the ammunition was scattered across the ship's floor, getting under people's feet and generally becoming a problem.

"Sithspawn."

Dropping to his knees, Dante began to pick up his equipment.

What in the nine Corellian Hells does she think she's doing?

Namyr, Sniping 101, and Leon were entangled together, with the current Squad Leader being held in a headlock and twisting this way and that in an attempt to break free. Leon, meanwhile, looked like he was valiantly trying not to laugh.

Despite a gut feeling that this was something he really should'nt get too curious about, he pressed on.

"What's going on?"

Startled, Namyr turned away from her attempts to incapacitate Sniping 101, and the Squad Leader lazily got up, swaying slightly and almost dropping the half-emptied bottle he was carrying.

"Threesome kid you wanna join, we need another female."

"Uh, I have to go, um,"

With that, Dante rushed off, shaking his head as he did so.
The more I get to know them, the weirder they get...

He placed the Spiker ammunition in his spare bag and walked back to the main hold, this time carefully giving the trio a wide berth.

Looking around him, Dante was struck by how many unfamiliar faces there were. It had started with Yush, who had died a horrible death on Yuka. Then there had been Marka, who had started shivering despite the armour's heating systems and broken down a few minutes after their shuttle had taken off. Now, with both Darr and Rogueboy gone, the squad was almost unrecognizable. Only Namyr and Leon were left from the squad Dante had joined almost a month ago. A whole month? It seemed like weeks. We trusted each other, watched each other's backs, and fought as one. Now, it's been totally replaced by a group of inexperienced troopers.

He watched as some of them chatted together.

I just hope they don't freeze up in real combat. The last thing  the squad needs is another Yush. Where we're going even a minor wound could result in death.

Sighing, Dante went back into the hold, ignoring the group playing some sort of dice game, and opened one of the crates. Removing some of the packaging he saw the gleam of plastoid and grinned. Paydirt. Removing the surprisingly light radtrooper armour from the crate, Dante carried it back to his seat and began to suit up. Soon, the gestures were automatic.

This piece goes here, that one there, check for leakage or tears in the suit, always make sure your helmet seals are on...I've done this a thousand times before.

The leggings went on without a fuss, as did the chest plating. There was a loud clunk, followed by a loud humming, as Dante hooked up
the armour's back-mounted survival pack and the filtering systems activated. He had some trouble with the right arm plating, which was slightly too small for his mechanical limb, but eventually managed to squeeze it in. Normally, he would have simply gone without the protection, but electronics had a nasty habit of melting down in Grade 4 or higher zones. After an unpleasant incident on Illum several months ago, Dante had learned the hard way that mechanical limbs often break at the worst possible times and when you need them the most. Even a minor injury could result in a huge dose of radiation, assuming the enemy didn't kill you first.

Last, he lifted the helmet and placed it on his head. The helmet seals hissed and lights flickered on the inside of the helmet as the HUD started diagnostics. Under the helmet, his face invisible, Dante grinned.

This mission might not be so bad after all...

(OOC: see http://halo.wikia.com/wiki/Spiker for proof the Spiker is a slugthrower)

*Before Sniping 101's post*

Dante felt his stomach leap into his mouth as the shuttle suddenly decelerated. Looking out a nearby view-port, he saw the blue-white blur that was hyperspace flicker and vanish, then be replaced by a tapestry of stars. Clumps of asteroids and the system's small, crimson star were clearly visible, but the object that filled the panorama was the world that was their destination, Esteril II.

From a distance, the planet would appear to be similar to countless others: covered in endless fields of rolling savanna with a few patches of deep green where water was more plentiful and the sun averted its scorching gaze. However, from a closer viewpoint, such as that enjoyed by the occupants of the transport hovering a few kilometers away from the dull brown globe, details became apparent. On the planet's continent there was a patchwork quilt of colors where there should have been the brown of dry grass, and blackened clouds swirled this way and that. The main view-screen turned on with a click and Dante watched as the pilot zoomed in on cities and natural formations, finally  showing the area where the radiation had been released. When he switched to radiation levels, the area was a clump of red and orange dots in a sea of blue.

They must have been really desperate to commit environmental terrorism on such a massive scale. The effects of their actions will probably affect the planet for years to come. For some reason, I don't think we'll be making any friends here, even if we do extract the Imperials.

Their CR20 troop carrier turned slightly and entered the planet's atmosphere at a steep angle. The vessel's shields flared as it entered the atmosphere, and the atmosphere formed a dull red halo around the craft.

"We're coming in a little hot...."

The craft shuddered, then fell like a stone. Cursing in a half-dozen different languages, the pilot desperately tried to regain control of the vessel. In the back, there were a series of loud bangs and crunches as the crates came loose and flew around the cargo hold.

Dante winced with each crash. There goes our equipment...

In desperation, the pilot flipped aside a panel and depressed a button. There was a brief flare and emergency thrusters roared to sudden life. With their help, the Army pilot brought the RAIDERS ship down, through layers of dust and the storm. Through the storm, Dante could make out an every growing desert. The CR20, landed, its clawed feet searching for and finding a landing point and the main ramp hissing down.

Their hull had been scorched, their transport had been damaged, and their equipment had been wrecked, but Dante still couldn't hold back a smile, as they had survived. It was a moment he couldn't stay around to enjoy.

One by one, the squad members filed out, except for Namyr and Fenris who had remained within the vessel to take inventory. The ship's crew, clad in reinforced armour, went outside to check for damage, and the air was soon filled with the sound of tools.

Snipes stepped out the cave entrance, into the narrow canyon. The wind blew down the length of it, stirring the dust. In was no wonder the regulars had collapsed the entrance, if the wind changed direction they may end up with radioactive dust in their caves. Snipes looked behind him as the rest of the RAIDERS crawled through the opening that had been made. It would be closed behind them. Snipes could understand that. He turned his head to the canyon again. The dust destroyed viability, which was good for them. Snipes could see burned out tank shells and bodies littering the canyon floor ahead of them. There was maybe a hundred feet of clear space, but Snipes radiation detector was already starting to click a little. Not a lot, but more than background radiation. He looked around again, the squad was standing, alert, rifles at the ready.

"Move out, two teams, leap frog from cover." Before leaving they'd agreed on the teams. Snipes would take Fenris, MugLug and Leon, Nams got Dante and Zorgn.

Snipes and his team first along the right canyon wall, moving south. Snipes team found cover behind a still burning tank. The other team moved up and past them, focused, Snipes team made sure there was no one around to attack them. There wasn't, the desolation was insane. His radiation meter began to pick up, it was getting to the point where it would be very unhealthy to remove a single piece of armor. It was a little nerve wracking. Snipes liked that sensation. It wasn't very often anymore that he felt like he might actually be in danger. This was invigorating.

"Go ahead"

Snipes team quickly moved around the tank, rifles at the ready, they moved quickly in a half crouch. up to a rock slide, where they could take refuge behind the rocks. The radiation rose even more. Snipes signaled for the other team to stop. He took a few seconds to look around, this was where the canyon turned, from here it should be a straight shot to the radiation clearing group.

"Leon, can you climb at all?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good, theres a small ledge up there, you should be able to get a pretty good view of the progress."

"The dust."

"Scope."

"Alright, sergeant."

Snipes watched carefully as he cambered up the steep face. It wasn't hard going, there were lots of hand holds, but with Black Betty on his back it wouldn't be either easy. He made it though, somehow, and faster than Snipes had thought. He was impressed, wasn't the sort to say so.

"How's it look."

"I can make out figures, not very well, they seem to be in large suits. Space suits?"

"Aye, what else."

"Lots of heavy equipment moving around, it's getting hard to make out."

"Thanks Leon.
"Alright, we're going to move forward everyone, see if there are tanks or walkers, if there are we'll have to lure them a closer so Leon can get a pot shot at them. Alright people, lets keep moving, two teams, leap frog. You know the drill."

The air was filled with energy pulses, slugthrower rounds, and blaster bolts as the second group of RAIDERS opened fire with sniper rifles. Half a dozen of the armoured enemies fell, their hands clutching the un-armoured neck or torso fabric where the projectiles had entered. Those whose wounds were less fatal began to scream as the invisible radiation entered their systems and began to burn the exposed areas.    Namyr took advantage of the sudden confusion to open fire with a slugthrower rifle. Slugs whizzed through the air, bounced off armour plating and penetrated flesh, and the bark of projectile weapons shattered the brief silence that had fallen after the first volley of shots.

The rebel survivors, acting on the orders of a black-armoured officer, retreated behind an AAT tank that then began to purr forward, pushing  aside or crushing the debris in its path. Dante swallowed and let his hand drop to his belt. He was clean out of grenades, although he doubted the frags would have done much damage in the first place. The Clone Wars-era vehicle was tough, and capable of taking out groups of infantry in minutes. Looking at the tank, he noticed that the Esteril rebels had added several layers of plating to its front and sides, probably to reduce the vehicle's vulnerability to infantry-launched rockets, as well as updating the weaponry.

Dante was distracted from his observations by a crackle over the COM. Namyr's voice echoed slightly, and the static played hell with the reception, but her tone of urgency was clear.

"Move it or that damn thing is going to run us over!"

The heavy vehicle was only a few meters away as the three RAIDERS broke cover, weaving left and right to avoid the hasty snapshots of the hostile troopers. A few seconds later, the tank rolled over the small depression where they had been hiding. Quickly, Namyr ducked behind the smoldering wreckage of a troop transport, followed by Zorgn and Dante. There was a roar and Dante felt a wave of heat as a plasma encased shell soared over them in a graceful arc and impacted on the remains of an AT-TE several meters away. Dante clicked on his COM and tried raising their squad leader but heard only static. Not for the last time he cursed the idiotic Imperials who had gotten them into this mess and wrecked their own planet. Dante peeked around the wreckage and saw the tank leisurely turning to get a better shot. And why should it hurry? There were only three troopers for it to cut down, and it had more than enough firepower to do so. Dante imaged the sneer on the vehicle driver's face and he tightened his grip on his Spiker.

There was a cough, followed by a series of explosions. The tank seemed to wilt as fire erupted from its back. The crippled AAT sank down as its repulsorlifts failed, and flames crackled merrily from its engines. There were a series of pops as the ordnance began to detonate, and the vehicles began to collapse in on itself, with the roof caving in. Leon still had their backs covered.

That's one down, two to go.