“Current distance from the objective is exactly two and a half miles from your current position. Weather patterns show that the heavy winds will continue for another two hours, prolonging the sandstorm and continue to provide cover to your approach.” The soothing sound of a female adjutant’s voice came through the headsets of Raynors Elite Raiders, a few short moments after they had touched down upon the hard dirt surface of Hellslake.

For a short moment, there was no movement or talk as Solares's HUD quickly calculated the optimal route to the Dominion Command center. This was necessary due to the fact that the violent sandstorm around them made it damn near impossible to navigate through the maze of razor rock and other natural obstacles that littered Hellslake. "Optimal route established, projecting waypoints to squads hud." the sound of the same female adjutant could be heard once more as all those with a helmet or some sort of optical enhancement gear would soon receive a finely detailed map and waypoint arrow that showed them exactly where to go and the surrounding area for three square miles.

The sandstorm that had formed around Hellslake had grown in strength, the highly detailed and very well designed HUD inside of Solares's helmet showed this important information while not cluttering the inside of her helmet or obstructing her view. The rest of the squads HUDS would be the same, allowing them to see important information while leaving plenty of room to see everything around them.

Solares had chosen a light blue color for her HUD, while most others picked red, orange or green, due to the way that some of the other colors seemed to blur in certain situations and the correct lighting. The Blue waypoint arrow and map that were in the upper right hand corner of Solares's HUD blinked slightly to get her attention and to inform her that time was not on their side.

"Alright, let's move out, stay behind me and be sure to follow your HUDS directions exactly as they are painted out. Nice and smooth, watch your corners, keep your eyes out for any security systems our HUD may have missed and do not draw any attention to yourself unless it is absolutely necessary. We have more than Terran Dominion Marines to worry about here, watch the sky for any drones that may be searching for any movement in this storm. Our first stop is the eastern gate of the Helios Command Center, this is the least guarded entrance for Helios and moving through the security gates should be relatively smooth if we can manage to take out the security system near said gate. If this mission goes to hell, we will have very little time to grab what we need and get out before the command center turns into a hornet's nest. They have heavily armed units such as tanks and mechs that will be used against us if we are discovered. When I motion for one of you, do your job and carry it out swiftly and to the letter, good luck to all of you and remember that Raynor and all of the rebels are counting on us to get this done smoothly and in a timely manner, which we are known for." said Solares as the squad walked through the violent sandstorm of fine dust and dirt that drowned out the blue sky and warm sun above.

As Solares and her squad walked through the hazardous maze of rocks and other natural objects, the sheer size of the Command Center finely could be seen in the distance. The main part of the Command Center was a massive dome that covered a large portion of land, on the ground around it were large square buildings that were connected to it. From each of these square buildings was a huge metallic tower that was covered in wires, metal plates and electronics as well an energy shield that protected them from the damage of the storm, but not energy projectiles.

The squad knew quite a bit of the Command Centers layout due to the fact that a group of civilians that had worked at Helios had been released from their jobs, and had then transferred all of their knowledge to Raynor and the rebellion. This information was priceless for the rebellion, and had been closely studied, checked over, inspected and documented so that every last piece of information was very well know by all those who were taking part on the mission to takeover then destroy Helios.

Four guards stood at the gate they were planning on entering, two above and two below. There was also an advanced security system scanning around the entrance while large automatic turrets aimed forward, waiting for the input to open fire and tear a target to shreds in seconds. "Mark each guard that you are going to take out, when I give the word, open fire and we shall eliminate the targets at the same time. Once they are down I will eliminate the security system on the closest tower, we will have a few short moments to enter the Helios Command Center to carry out our mission before the system reboots. Everyone take their places and prepare to fire on my mark..."

Ansgar hated CMC armor. Sure, it was considered the necessity of the day and age of combat for most personnel these days, doubly so since he wasn't just out picking up criminals, hunting down vagabonds, that sort of nonsense anymore. So, hardly surprising why one might question why the Marshall was sitting in the dropship, not wearing a full set of CMC armor like the majority of those within the ship itself. Doubly so, when he saw that wearing armor was important enough to be wearing light infantry's armor, a reinforced plate over his torso to protect the vitals as well as combat boots under the greaves that came with the light infantry set. Mainly? Mobility and dexterity. He'd seen a man in CMC armor, when dealing with an isolated feral zerg group, get swamped and torn to ribbons. The rest of them had been fast enough on their feet to survive, but not the Dominion fellow sent to supervise from the local Marine posting. As such, the Marshall preferred the lighter armor that would still stop a few rounds to the torso over the full armor of the Marines.

Though as he looked over the old C-10 Canister Rifle in his hands, noting the weapon that most considered bulky or awkward to use would not suit a Marine too well, at all. Ansgar preferred the 25mm explosive rounds the model used, and it made a very distinct, satisfying sound every time he fired it. Which, before hooking up with the Raiders, was very rarely. Some of his boys and himself, while out on patrol, had found themselves an old Confederate stash of gear. Wisely they had kept the stuff to themselves, considering how little trust they could put in the Dominion since, well, they had mostly just painted over the old Confederate stuff with the new Dominion colors, and flew a new flag to change. Sure, most of it, compared to modern Dominion tech, was rubbish, but the C-10's they had found were not. And considering how the Raiders and Ansgar had met, well, that was a story for another day. But, needless to say, the C-10 he still carried had saved his life.

Once they arrived on scene, Ansgar was, entertainingly, the first out of the shuttle and his boots hit the ground, knees bending to absorb the impact as he swept the area, looking for any sort of trouble. Nothing, small miracle there, and he cracked his neck while the rest of the squad got boots on the ground. The Marshall made sure his hat was in place before they started moving, nothing to say to the group as he ignored the sand that was blowing all over the place. Reminded him of home, really, but he kept idle thoughts down as they marched. He had to use a visor to match the HUD that the armored folks had, but that wasn't a big deal. Kept the sand out of his eyes anyways, which was the main concern in this sort of situation. When they reached their positions, and orders were given to mark targets, Ansgar tagged one of the guards that were above the other two, closer of the two mind up above mind you. He trusted his C-10 over any of the Marine C-14's for that kind of work. Sure, he didn't have any fancy optics, but he was a better shot than folks tended to give him credit for. Besides, those 25mm explosive rounds tended to make short work of a most folks he had to take a shot at. And he knew for a fact it could put down Marines in one well placed shot to the visor. Considering the guards were not overly mobile?

He was locked on target real quick like, aim steady and waiting for the order to fire, and gave Solares a confirmation of such. And included his nickname for the woman, it was a habit, everyone had nicknames, those that dealt with Ansgar for long enough at any rate. "Ready to rock, Sunshine, give the go ahead."

Nick silently lamented the sandstorms effect on his gear. With the wind so forceful, his burners were all but useless in the coming scuffle. The sand itself was arguably the worst part, since the suit had a lot of open parts for all the little particles to get into. Not to mention he had just oiled the damn thing! If you didn't maintain your gear then it would always fail you. Someone had taught him that once upon a time and failing to adhere had nearly been a high price.
Clogged up with mud and garbage, he had lost the use of his flamethrowers on some backwater planet. If it hadn't been for a dead friends knife, a cigar, and some quick damn thinking, Nick might not have survived. The price of near failure had sunk in to his bones. Stuff like that made you a stronger person in times of war. Experience was the difference between a parade and a funeral march sometimes.

His hud lit up with his commanding officers voice as she gave instructions for the upcoming shuffle. This was a job for the heavyhitters in this crew for now. A firebat was only good up close or on rare occasions when the universe aligned for a distance shot of some kind, but amidst this damned storm there was little he could do. The tight corridors in that command center were a different story and everyone likely knew it.

"Can't get a clear aim, Captain. Unless you've got a sidearm you're willing to lend me, ain't much cookin' ta be done on my end." To accentuate his point a bit more clearly, he tried igniting the pilot light inside of his right torch. As expected, it flared up and died out in a flash. "Opportunity knocks though, might be I could take the plasma to the armor around here."

Richard followed the group, more or less silently. He stood out from the rest of the raiders refusing to paint his armour blue at every step of the way and keeping it the pure white of Earth's true humans, and kept the grand red shield of the directorate. He didn't bother with the near tribal markings that the raiders like on his visor or other shoulderpad too, preferring to relish the memory of earth with it. He looked left and right at the backwards Terran yokels around him. Bastards probably didn't even know that there was more than one language of humanity.

He activated his Heads-up-display and one more looked at the enemies they were to take out. The man marked down two ready to take them on with his C-141AC rifle. "Whenever you're ready." he said, motionless. At least he would have just a little more revenge on the people who killed the heroes Stukov and DuGalle, who ended the lives of the comrades he fought heroically with. Besides, creating strife amongst the Terrans was exactly what he should be doing for when the Directorate hopefully came back to finally take the Sector.

The air was too dry and the wind, if he wasn't safely behind a suit of power armour would have been more than a little annoying with it's harsh bite and the rough particulate it whipped around. His HUD filled with relevant mission data but he ignored a lot of it in favour of another image displayed from the other side of his helmet. Blue text scrolled unread down his right cheek as his left displayed the picture of a certain little lady he had grown close to in the last year. It was a special picture that she took for his eyes only a couple months back. And it's contents always gave him plenty of incentive to make it back to the Hyperion in one piece during a deployment. Let Solares worry about mission specs and map layouts.

“Haha! Let's do this!” The 'artistic' portait was blinked away and Sebastian was once more focused and present in the real world, Raring to go and practically bounding with each step towards the dominion base. Power assisted strength let Sebastian heft his C-14 as easily as a child might wave around a popgun. Taking aim and tapping the trigger in preparation. Not quite pulling it, just bouncing his finger off the metal. This was why he joined the rebellion. Why he was a marine. Taking the fight to the dominion directly. So much more visceral and satisfying than being a mechanic or a scientist or whatever other trades Swann was always complaining he needed more hands and bodies for. To slow paced, and required a deeper well of patience than Sebastian currently possessed.

“I got the one on the left.” Thank whatever god there was in the universe for the protective dome/visor of his armour. Otherwise this wind sand would be annoying as shit to aim through. His bright blue paint was already caked in a thin layer of dust. After a full hour on this planet he would probably look like a great big sand golem.

@Andromedai

Janek soon followed after them - out of the rest of the grunts here, she was the least 'bare' dressed. Namely in the point, that she didn't wear heavy clunky CMC armor. No, what she was wearing could be qualified as a simple 'vest' - marred by her bright red hair and the cyber-covering on her left arm. One might say, she looked the least dangerous amongst the group - yet like the saying in the Koprulu Sector went - 'the worst packages came with the biggest surprises'. Namely that saying was attributed to Ghosts and zergs - but she could fall under that category.

Namely Janek was a spook, not the heavy-duty reign of a Ghost - namely she was a Wrangler. The less-known aspect behind every Ghost Program. Unlike other Ghosts, she couldn't crush bottles with her mind, or go invisible in some bare-covering skinsuit - rather she could detect if they had any spook watching them. Which in essence, was her current role here.

Mar Sara was an unknown, and Mengsk liked to stick his Ghosts in the least likely places. A single Ghost could easily wipe out their crew, no matter how badass they were. In addition, she was outfitted to deal with any heavy vehicles they might encounter at this outpost - since Command Centers, were usually heavily defended, since they were filled with all sorts of secrets, goodies and usually an Adjutant.

She pulled a scarf to cover her nose and mouth from the debris - before following after the group. Taking her own place, and aiming at the largest target - namely Marauder-suit wearing figure at the center of the place. "Center one...and also no spooks," she said - in an accent, that an Earther would say was Polish.

Alexis shook her head at the sandstorm they were facing. Sandstorms and jetpacks didn't go well together but as always Alexis came prepared, she put some plastic over the main "holes" of the jetpack to keep the sand from entering that would burn very fast when she fired up.

Most people considered Reapers to be crazy for going in light/medium armor to fight at close range against zergs, protoss or whatever they had to fight with but Alexis enjoyed the battle. She relished in the fight and all goose bumps appeared on her skin as she thought about the battle that was about to come. Her trusted shotgun, an unusual weapon for a Reaper, was resting on hips and she looked at the orange paint she applied on it and smiled. Orange worked good for this environment and it would look stunning in a fight.

Soon, the time to drop was on and she jumped out of the dropship with a wicked smile on her face. She loved the jump before a battle. Quickly her visor closed and no sand could enter her eyes and soon after the HUD showed her where they had to go. She knew that silence was essential for this part of the mission, so she didn't talk but when they arrived, Alexis approached the squad leader and said with a wicked smile on her face :

" I'll take the two from above. Want me to bring them down to you ? Their screams as they fall to the death would be a welcome change in the scenery. "

@Andromedai

"This is an infiltration mission, we do not want anyone making to much noise or the whole base will be on alert. I rather return to the Hyperion in one piece and alive." said Andromedai as she watched the gates guards walk back and forth on their patrol route through her digital range finders.

"Pyro..." Andromedai handed the man a long ranged silenced pistol that he could use for the moment. "Use this for now, once we are inside and if things go to hell, then you can use your normal weapons." Motioning with her left hand at the gate, Andromedai took aim and counted down from three to one before the squad opened fire on their targets. Each soldier fell at the same time, making no sound and giving them an opening to move forward.

"Hold position, I'm going to take out the security system on this side of the base. With one well placed shot with her rifle, the main power box on one of the towers shutdown. A few lights blinked red alongside it before returning to their normal white, that was all Andromedai needed to see before ordering her squad to move forward towards the gate. There entrance was through a large metallic sliding door that was built into the twenty food tall walls that surrounded the base. Andromedai strained to open the door by herself, even with her power armor. Once it was open enough for them to enter, Andromedai ordered her squad to enter and take their positions inside.

"Do all of you remember what we are looking for here? The main command center, it will be the largest building in the middle of the compound." Andromedai motioned at the large dome shaped building not far from where they stood. "Use the other buildings as cover, stay close behind me and for the love of god, don't make any noise or do anything stupid." Andromedai knew she didn't have to say that, but wanted to make sure everyone knew what to do and what not to do.

"Gotcha bastards." he said as with the squeeze of the trigger the enemies fell. He made a mental note to ask the Terran with the accent about it later. He had trouble believing that some people actually still had reverence for the wonders of Earth and kept up their language but who knew? If anything, at least there would be a story behind it. He sidled along past the gate turning off his suit's flashlight and slung his clunky C-141AC on his back. He pulled out his Ronin pistol from it's holster and his shank soon found it's way into his other hand. "Right, boss." Richard said. "Not a sound." he added, giggling as he would soon have the opportunity for a little revanchist sadism.

He turned his attention to the professional aspect of what was to be done, and again went along looking left and right for some sign of some bastard to end. Everyone has their own mission.

The familiar kick of his C-10 made Ansgar smirk, watching the round drop his target nice and neat like. Not to say the Marine in question wasn't in a right sort of mess, being dead and all, but thankfully the rest put down their targets real quick and quiet. Including the firebat, imagine that, between him and the Reaper, he was fully expecting this to turn into a loud mission at some point. But he would keep moving forward until then, moving after the rest of the group, Sunshine and Glory Boy, that earth born ex UED fellow that lamented the fact that he was stuck so far from his precious Earth. Now, Ansgar did not like his attitude, not one bit, but long as he kept doing his job, well, they could agree to disagree. Besides, Koprulu wasn't that bad, she treated you like you treated her, at the end of the day. Watching Sunshine get the gate open, he was through rather more easily than the armored folks were, another advantage of not stomping about in CMC armor all the damn time. He did a quick, steady sweep of the area as they grouped up.

"I hear ya Sunshine, sooner in, sooner out." The less time they spent idling about or moving about outside, the less time there was for someone to stumble across them, have to be dropped, or worse, have an alarm get sounded. Then ALL bets were off, since it would be a mad dash for the Command Center, smash and grab, and get the hell out of dodge while under all sorts of Dominion firepower. In other words, a rather unpleasant way to kick off the work week. But focus was required, so he scanned and kept his mind on the job, watching for anything that could complicate the mission.

Nick took the firearm hesitantly, knowing full well that his accuracy with conventional weapons was less than satisfactory in comparison to the usage of his primarily established means of combat. Namely, burning shit to cinders and molten scrap. When it came to setting things aflame there were few as qualified to do the job as Nick Nack. The order went out and the Firebat took a shot. Lady luck was on his side and the bullet hit the last target available as his allies quickly made short work of the others.
Niiiice and quiet. With a cannon.. The hell were these guys thinking, using explosive rounds on a stealthy infiltration mission..

Not that bringing a Firebat was likely to be any quieter.

"Keep sayin' sunshine, I'm gonna stick that gun yer so fond of up where your sun don't shine." He chuckled, giving a friendly shove to Ansgar as the group proceeded forward at behest of their fearless captain. While she had stated that if things went to hell, he was clear to use his primary weapons.. That just made the Firebat hope things went to hell but his professional side won out in the end. From where he had always stood, Nick was unfit to be a captain. When someone said fire, he asked how much.

It took enormous restraint for Sebastian not to WHOOP with joy as his picked target jerked and slumped and finally fell off his perch to the dusty earth below. His armour made a racket during it all though. Clanking and thumping during its losing fight with gravity. It felt good, it wasn't a proper fight like he would have liked ti to be. But it felt good. Something like that made him feel as if he was actually taking the fight to the dominion in a grander sense. One less man to hunt them down later. And he didn't feel too bad about the killing part. Alot of dominion marines were conscripted cons anyway. Half of them have done terrible things they deserved to be executed for. They weren't deserving of this dominion 'reform' program.

Andromedai was then talking about other stuff. Something about everyone knowing what to look for. He signalled his acknowledgement but in reality had no bloody clue what precisely they were doing here. He meant to pay more attention at the briefing and read the data packet, he really did, he just got sidetracked by.... other things. Things that may or may not have involved the special lady who gave him the fine piece of 'artwork' he was looking at on the way here.

"Sure thing boss lady." It was a little hard to look for anything quietly in his suit. Even tip-toeing made him thud thud thud through the compound. He was also huge, just over seven feet tall and several feet wide. Why the hell he was being asked to be stealthy was beyond him. He would rather blitz through this base in and out before the dominion had time to react. To hell with subtly. That was for ghosts and people who couldn't fight fairly. He was a Raider and a marine. Not a damned church mouse.