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Mordant Prime
13th Mordant Regiment, 2nd Battalion, 3rd platoon (Mechanized)
Pvt. Cato Euchar




The sound of aircraft roaring overhead violent shook Cato from his slumber. The initial feeling of terror he felt upon being woken up by the loud roaring was replace by wonder and curiosity, as he rapidly climbed to the edge of the trench. Roaring, seemingly right above their heads, the strike craft of VFA-30 sped to their targets. The munitions were visible to the troops as they fell from the craft, before the deafening sound of dozens of bombs exploding filled the air around the trench.

“ Third Platoon!” the Lieutenant yelled, pushing his way past the masses of troops watching the bombing run.

“ We have orders, grab your gear and form up by the motor pool!” he yelled, before more officers shouting orders towards their subordinates

The trench was alive now, troops were gathering gear and weapons before running to their designated troop areas. Veteran troops looked sullen and emotionless as they worked, they knew all to well what was going to occur next. While newest among their number, ran around with newly found energy, either from excitement or from fear of the unknown. The final assault of Luiza was about to begin.

The third platoon was stuffed back into ST-110 light tanks and began making its way across no man’s land toward the city. Cato found the interior of the tank claustrophobic, every fiber of his being wishing to stick his out of the top hatch. The rather relaxed atmosphere of the ride into the operational area was replaced with a thick anticipation. Troops, fidgeted with energy as the tank moved forward, waiting for the first shot to be fired. Cato was no different, he wanted to scream in frustration, the fear of the unknown nearing getting the best of him.

Suddenly, it began, the first shot heard was the whiz of a high velocity shell coming from the city outskirts. Cato wondered what he just heard, being the first time, he had ever taken fire, and looked around at his platoon mates. Another close pass whizzed by and exploded close by, violently shaking the tank as it moved forward. The urge to get out of the tank was almost unbearable now, he did not want to imagine what would happen if they got hit by one of those shells.

Looking towards the front of the tank, he could see the crew manning their stations. Over the sounds of the engine and close passing shells, Cato could barely make out the orders that the tank commander was shouting. The bottom half of the tank commander’s body was visible from inside the tank as his head disappeared up through the hatch behind the gunner’s seat. As each shell passed overhead, the tank commander would duck back down into the tank yelling something quickly before darting back up through the hatch.
Turning his head to the back of the tank, Cato could make out the lieutenant, with the tank intercom handset pressed firmly to his ear. His face looked blank and unworried, no hint of fear or apprehension was present. He almost looked bored, looking towards the front of the tank as they inched close to their objective. It did little to calm Cato’s nerves, as the sound of shells exploding close by buffeted the vehicle that seemed to be moving far too slow. If he had eaten something this morning it would definitely be on the floor, but his stomach has empty resulting in a painful knotting feeling in his gut.

Suddenly, the tank commander dropped back down into the tank and closed the hatch before flipping a switch out of sight. Just like before, the light inside the tank dimmed before returning to a bright red hue. The platoon commander, after hung the handset over the back of the troop chair, leaned into the soldier next to him and yelled something into his ear. The soldier instinctively relayed the message to those next to him before the message got down to where Cato was sitting

“ 30 seconds!” the trooper next to him yelled, before the tank came to a grinding halt.

The sound of shells passing overhead was quickly replaced with the sound of the main gun, firing almost continuously into the area ahead of them. The soldiers in the back readied themselves, some kneeling in the aisle between the seats in the troop bay while others grabbed their weapons and turned sideways in their seats, awaiting the door.

A shrill whistle replaced the sound of gunfire for a moment as the rear ramp dropped open, allowing the troops to run out into no-man’s land. Almost immediately, the shrill whistle was replaced by the crack of rapid small arms fire, coming from machine gun emplacements and other defenders in the outskirts of the city. The rounds, pinged off the hull of the tank as the men of third platoon, ran out of the tank.

Almost immediately, the scope of the battle revealed itself to Cato, across the expanse of barren wastes, was an army of armored vehicles and disembarking troops. A few, burning wrecks could be seen behind them, hit by shells on the advance up to the city outskirts. The sounds of the main cannon of the ST-112 was deafening as Cato stepped outside of the tank, huddling close to the remainder of his platoon. The ramp of the tank quickly closed behind him and the rumbling sound of the treads could be heard as the tanks started to move again.

“ Fall in behind the tank!” the platoon leader yelled “ Keep moving!”

Machine gun rounds, cracked overhead and ricocheted off the tank as they ran forward, while the cannon shells whistled just overhead before exploding behind them. The interior of the tank didn’t seem so bad all of a sudden, and the urge to get back inside the vehicle was unbearable. Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a shell impacted the tank to Cato’s right, blowing the turret far up into the air and shooting the loading ramp out towards the troops behind it. Shrill cries of pain suddenly filled the air, as the men behind that vehicle were torn apart by the explosion or the debris shot from it. Nearly half the platoon laid broken and in pieces, strewn across the battlefield as the vehicle burned.

The look of horror was displayed across Cato’s face, his eyes glued to the scene of carnage to his right. A quick shove from one of the members of his platoon, quickly broke his concentration, followed by a harsh quip from the platoon leader.

“ Pay fucking attention boot!” the Lieutenant yelled, turning his head to shoot Cato a hateful glance before turning back towards the tank.

“ Fix bayonets!” the platoon leader yelled again, before peering over the side of the tank as it came to an abrupt stop. “ Get ready!” he yelled again, grabbing a knife from a sheath towards his hip.

Cato’ shakily obliged, fastening the large knife on the front of his rifle. ‘Can I really stab someone with this’, he thought to himself, looking at the weapon for a moment before another shell explosion broke his concentration followed by the hollow thuds of smoke launchers.

“ Lets go” the platoon leader yelled, breaking cover and running off into the mist.

A collective yell could be heard as the mass of infantry charged out in front of the tanks. For a moment, this was comforting, the strength felt in numbers momentarily erased the fear of what they were about to do. This was short lived however, as the rate of incoming fire increased as the infantry ran into the haze of smoke.

Cato continued to run forward, too scared to yell as rounds impacted around him. The screams of those hit replaced the sounds of the collective yell and upon emerging from the smoke, three quaters of the force remained. The Machine gun emplacement were visible now, focusing on the troops advancing behind them. While, rebel soldiers rushed to hastily made defense in front of them. ‘ Will be make it’, Cato thought, before a blast of auto cannon fire cleared the way ahead of them. Jumping the makeshift barrier, the platoon was now in the enemy position quickly followed by the remainder of the invasion force. The sound of firing, started to become more sporadic as other platoon moved to clear the rebel fighting positions, as autocannon fire began shooting at the fleeing rebels as the ran across the expanse deeper into the city.

It wouldn’t hit Cato yet, but he had survived his first day of combat. Three members of his platoon were dead in the field behind him along with countless other from other platoons. Cato was unharmed, shaken but unharmed, as he looked around at the soldiers next to him.

“ You ok?” a voice said off in the distance, prompting Cato to quickly look to his left.

“ Yes sir…” he said eyeing the lieutenant as he walked toward the group of Cato.

“ Good, drink something. We will be moving out in a few hours, once we consolidate” the platoon leader finished in a business like tone before walking off to meet with the officers of neighboring platoons.
Task Force 141
Supernovae class (Aurora)
VFA-30 ( The Raven wings)
Lieutenant Jasper Cane




The fleet carrier Aurora had six runways and could launch the entire strike wing in a relatively short amount of time. Up to two aircraft could be spotted and launched at one time, on any given runway. Being in the middle of the hangar bay, Japser and the crew of the lucky watched the bay slowly empty before it was there turn, the boredom being broken by a radio transmission from the landing safety officer.

“ Runway four…” the officer quipped prompting a short reply from jasper before he was towed to the aircraft elevator.

Runway four was the upper runway, which meant the craft were taking off in the vacuum rather than starting in one of the internal bays with a catapult. Two craft with their towing equipment could fit on the elevator at once, after which they would be under their own power for placing themselves for take off. The Hangar bay itself was a closed system, sealed by airlocks formed by the rising elevators, this increased the maneuverability of the technicians below, allowing them to work in normal clothes and not bulky environment suits.

Each crew member wore a thin basic environment suit, not designed for space walks or excursions on dead planets but enough to keep you safe for a few hours if you needed to bail out. Boot and wrist cuffs kept the suits integrity around the joints and, while reflective strips down the legs and arms allowed for easy identification if lost in space. The helmet was the expensive part, communication, targeting, information sharing and oxygen supply all flowed through the helmet, making it easy for pilots to fly and complete various tasks. Each member of the crew had one, although it was mostly wasted on the guys in the back.
The Cordalis, another bomber from VFA-30 was waiting for them as they moved towards the elevator. The white wings on the top edges of the wings designating the craft as a member of the Raven Wings.

“ Here we are again Jasper” he heard over his personal radio over the short range band.

“ Do you believe that we wont meet any resistance?” the voice quipped again

“ That’s what the captain says….” Jasper responded with a visual shrug as he looked at the pilot of the Cordalis.

The two craft slowly rose above the hangar bay before forming a seal with the elevators walls with a quiet popping sound. Almost as quickly as the seal was formed, the sound of air rushing past the cockpit could be heard, followed by complete silence. Looking up, Jasper could see the eerie darkness of space, spotted by the silhouettes of other ships in task force.
The elevator came to an abrupt stop, and both craft were left facing the glowing lights of the runway. Jasper pulled down the visor on his helmet, revealing the myriad of information and flight data in the HUD. Looking to his right, he saw the Cordalis speed off down the runway and into the growing mass of craft circling above.

“ VFA-30 cleared for launch” Jasper heard over the radio, before a green light blinked on Infront of the craft. Pushing the throttle forward, a slight shudder could be felt before the craft sped down the runway, quickly leaving the carrier as it rose into the formation above.

Here the scale of the task force could be seen. A normal task force included one fleet carrier, two escort carriers, a battleship, two cruisers and a perimeter of destroyers for increased security. The number of ships in a strike force varied, but they were always made up of at least two carriers and two larger combat ships. Two task forces could be seen in low orbit over the planet, to ensure around the lock air superiority, a relic of the early Mordant campaign. Starships seemed to stretch as far as the natural eye could see, lights and reflective glass surfaces reflecting off the local star’s glow.

Lucky and the remainder of the strike force circled for a while before, finally being able to push towards the target. Bombing runs were always painfully boring, followed by a quick moments of sheet excitement and terror. Almost as soon as it started however, the boredom returned for the often-long trip back to the carrier. Crew members read, slept or talked amongst themselves during the trip to the target area and today was no different. The loud snoring of the radar operator lulled the crew of the Lucky into a sense of safety and familiarity, only cut short by the decent into the planet’s atmosphere.

The craft bucked and shook as the formation dropped into the atmosphere, before the familiar sound of air rushing over the craft could be heard. Suddenly, the formation came alive, breaking the silence of the past few hours.

“ VFA-30, turn to heading 283, wedge formation” the flight leader said as the different strike groups split up, turning off into the distance to hit their assigned targets. The mega-city of Luiza could be seen in the distance, the huge spires of the various towers rose above the horizon as they sped closer. The large columns of smoke could be seen billowing over the city as well, obscuring even more of the metropolis behind the thick columns.

“ Remove Safeties, 10 minutes out” the flight lead quipped again, prompting a number of clicks behind Jasper as the weapons officer began prepping systems.

“ Whoa….radar contact, bearing 089” the radio officer almost yelled in a surprised “ Air contact…..wait…just lost it” he finished.

The crew remained silent, as they pushed into the target area but the worry amongst the crew could be felt. Why were they getting other radar signatures in the air Jasper thought, the words of his fellow pilot echoing in his head.
Suddenly, his thoughts were cut short as the first AAA shell rushed past the cockpit, exploding high above the craft.

“ Locking AAA emplacements!” the weapons officer yelled as the craft bucked and shook from the explosions around it ,the sound of shrapnel hitting the armor plating echoing through the cockpit

“ Two minutes to target” the weapons officer yelled again, his face almost glued to the screen at the weapons station.

Jasper swallowed heavily, tracking their progress on the navigation display before another large explosion rocked the ship, cracking the cockpit glass.

“ Shit…” Jasper said under his breath as he tested the pressure of the cockpit, sighing briefly as the seal integrity remained.

“ Weapons away!” the weapons officer yelled as the craft shifted away from the weight of the falling bombs “ Get us the fuck out of here!” the officer finished as the craft began to rapid rise above the city and pull away.

Letting out another audible sigh, Jasper allowed himself to be lulled into a familiar sense of accomplishment, his bombing run was complete. Sinking back into his chair he relaxed his body, seemingly taking his first breath since they began taking fire.

Suddenly, a shrill alarm began sounding, a sound that almost seemed alien to the crew before terror flashed across Jaspers face.

“ Missile warning!....bearing one t………” he weapons officer was cut short as an explosion rocked the craft, flipping it inverted as system displays flashed and malfunctioned.

“ VFA-30 Lucky is hit….Lucky is hit” Jasper yelled over the radio as he struggled to remain in control of the craft.

The displays inside the cockpit flickered as warnings flashed inside his helmet display, the engine sputtering before finally failing altogether. The craft, was silent for a moment, before inverting again, the damaged airframe pushing the craft into a flat spin. Smoke filled the cockpit as the reserve fuel stocks began to burn.

Jasper watched in horror, pinned against the canopy of the cockpit as a sky scraper quickly grew larger and closer to his vision.

“ BRACE!” he yelled largely to himself, as the intercom system had failed at the moment of impact. Closing his eyes, he did his best to brace himself for the oncoming impact before the craft smashed into a skyscraper.


Solis Class (DD-211- Holy Light)
Commander Jun Leiar




Scouting or as the navy called it, perimeter combat patrol, was another one of the main tasks for Solis class destroyers. Fast ships and small crews made them adept for these long range patrols into fringe space. It also allowed these craft to be the first to intercept transmissions from other nations. These long range scouting destroyers weren’t staffed by normal staff officers and naval crew, they carried advanced communication and electronic warfare equipment, they were crewed by intelligence officials, specially trained naval officers, an elite recon team and solar priests.

The solar priests of the ecclesia are not normal priests in the traditional sense of the word. They are tasked with preaching the holy sermon of the stars and missionary work like a traditional priest, but their true purpose is much darker. They are classified as intelligence agents and are chiefly responsible for political action, disruption and warfare. When they set up churches, they are established for the purpose of preaching, missionary work and other humanitarian goals. However, these are also the headquarters for political action, sabotage and other political disruption efforts. Ultimately, these priests are the tip of the spear for the ecclesia’s assimilation efforts.

Being currently deployed to the fringes of ecclesia space, the destroyer Holy Light first intercepted the dominion address to its people, quickly logging it as just another dominion message to be relayed along at normal pace. However, shortly after receiving the dominion message, another more cryptic message was intercepted.

W..WA..RNN...IN..G.... M...AI....NNNN... SY...TE...S....OFFL...NE....

DIA...NO...S..T...CS.......FA...LED!....

SEEEE....DIN...G........DI..ST.....RES....S...G...NAL.....

DISTRESS SIGNAL:

"This me..sage is auto.....ated......."

"Required immediate repairs... Sy.....te...ms... dama...ged.... Warning.... assi...tan...ce... ne.....ded.... Warn---"

After lengthy parsing by the ships onboard computer and code breaking software, the final message could be read with a good degree of accuracy

Warning, System offline,
Sending Distress signal
Required immediate repairs,
Assistance needed

Being outside of the norm for the type of message usually intercepted. The Holy Light decided to drop radio silence, revealing its position to anyone watching and/or listening and send a direct message to naval headquarters.

-DD-211(Holy Light)-
- Location: 45 AU, 34.32N,-43.00S,AZ-12 degrees-

-MESSAGE FOLLOWS-

At 23:31 ZULU DD-211 intercepted distress signal originating from SECTOR-102. Recommend further investigation. DD-211 requests to travel to LOCATION: 53 AU, 45.22N, -12.00S, AZ-6 degrees.

-MESSAGE ENDS-
Task Force 141
Supernovae class (Aurora)
VFA-30 ( The Raven wings)
Lieutenant Jasper Cane




A thick smoke hung in the operations room of the carrier as pilots and crew talked amongst themselves. All 60 seats were full and more people stood at the rear of the room, adding the symphony of voices.

“Skipper on deck!” Someone yelled as the sound of over 100 people snapped to quick attention.

“Sit!” the man yelled as he walked in, flipping two switches on the wall as he passed.

The room was suddenly went dark as the holographic board towards the front of the room lit up, detailing todays mission.

“ Alright, this is a full squadron action….” He paused surveying the room quickly “ We’ll fly two sorties today un-escorted” he finished tapping the control podium over to the side of the board.

“Us, VFA-11 and 34 will launch a regroup at a predesignated point in low atmosphere, designated point alpha.” He finished before the display changed into a series of aircraft symbols and elongated arrows superimposed over a picture of Mordant prime.

“We will then push, as a group, toward our bombing objectives to support the ground assault. We will be bombing the city’s edge.” He quipped again, the display changing to a crisp real time feed of the bombing area. The officer grabbed a stylus from the podium and walked in front of the board before beginning to circle points of interest.

“ Your objective is to hit Machine gun, cannon and other anti-aircraft position to clear the way for VFA-34 behind you, who will be bombing the interior of the city. The areas I have circled are identified as known targets. However, if you see any other targets on your run in, you have free discretion to smack it.” He paused again, looking around the room “ The entire city is free fire zone”.

The captain then pressed another button on the board before drawing a blue line along a visible trench in the live feed.

“ This is a friendly trench, at approximately 30.99 North and -12.1 East. Please for the love of the sun, keep your fire clear of this grid. We don’t need another friendly fire incident.” He said in a condescending tone, walking back to the podium and turning the lights back on.

“ Any Questions?” he yelled surveying the room once again.
A pilot quickly raised his hand “ Why are we un-escorted” she quipped, prompting grumbling for the remainder of the room.

“ Rebel air is nearly nonexistent for a few months, we have no reason to believe it will show up here” the captain answered, prompting continued grumbling from the room

“ Are you sure!” another pilot yelled “ Cause we’ve seen this movie and we lost a few guys” he continued prompting laughter from the rest of the pilots.

“Yes!” the captain yelled, before tapping another button the podium prompting another display change

“ Order of battle is as follows! First in line in the scouting 5, providing target scans for the first bombing once carrying anti-radiation bombs and conventional high explosive”. He paused again

“Following them will be bombing two, carrying plasma incendiary munitions, burning the target clean for the land assault”. He quipped before changing the display one last time, displaying the bombing group assignments

“ Dismissed!” he yelled before the sound of people leaving the room filled the room.

Jasper sighed, as he walked toward the hangar bay, the picture of his bomber assignment seared into his head.

‘ Lucky, bombing 1, Loadout: six anti radiation bombs’

This was nothing new to Jasper, he was a four year veteran of VFA-30 and has seen combat all across Mordant prime. Serving since the beginning of the Mordant Pime campaign, this “easy” bombing run was a welcome change from the attrition of the early campaign.

“ Hey boss” he heard behind him, turning to see his weapons officer walking behind him

“ what a meeting huh?” he quipped with a laugh, trailing a thin string of smoke as he talked

“ Yeah” Jasper said with a laugh “ Skipper know what he’s doing though” he quipped reassuringly as they both walked into the hangar bay.

The pair walked along the rows of aircraft before coming to a halt in front of an S-12 naval bomber with “Lucky” crudely painted along the side under the cockpit.

“ there she is…” the weapons officer quipped before walking off to speak with the aircraft technicians, leaving Jasper to stare up at the open cockpit.

“ Here we go again” he said with a sigh, before climbing the deployable ladder up into the cockpit.

The crew layout of the S-12 was designed to maximize cooperation while minimizing distractions, the pilot sat facing the front towards the windows, while the weapons officer and navigator sat side by side, facing the rear of the craft. This had the intended goal of minimizing distractions but also left the other crew members completely clueless to the wellbeing of the pilot. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but if the pilot was injured or simply blown to bits it would take a little while for the other crew members to notice and save the craft before a crash. Something Japser had seen on many occasions.
Jasper climbed into the chair and sat down, switching the battery of the craft on to begin his pre-flight check. He checked the fluid levels, his fuel reserves and did a quick control test of the flight surfaces before he was once again distracted by the entrance of his weapons officer and navigator, closing the cockpit canopy as they walked to the rear of the cockpit area. Letting out another sigh, and hearing the sound of other engines starting, Japser held down the engine start button as the craft shuddered below him before being replaced by a continuous dull hum.

‘Here we go again’ he thought once, letting out a long sigh before pulling his helmet over his head.
Mordant Prime
13th Mordant Regiment, 2nd Battalion, 3rd platoon (Mechanized)
Pvt. Cato Euchar


The overwhelming smell of burning rubber mixed with the smell of death and flesh continuously wafted in through the open commander’s hatch. The eye watering stench made the private visibly gag multiple times before he composed himself enough to look around the troop bay of the ST-110. Through the dim red light he could just barely out the faces of his platoon, some sitting stone faced staring at walls in front of them while others looked over personal mementos longingly. ‘They seemed so fearless’ Private Euchar thought to himself with envy, he wanted the confidence they had.
Private Cato Euchar had lived for nearly 20 revolutions around the holy star known as “Vida”. The second his parents and the church allowed him to join the military he jumped at the chance, this was the life he wanted after all. His father and his father before him, tended the land for their entire existence. Cato grew up learning the same farming trade, interlaced with lessons of how the solar warmth of Vida would give life and in turn nourish their bodies with the food that it brought. His family was not overly religious, members of the church yes, but they wouldn’t consider themselves “true believers” as they are known colloquially. They were not fanatics of the cult of the sun, but believed it to be a divine entity capable of giving life.
Cato wanted something different and idolized the military life from a young age. He wanted to be a soldier, he wanted to explore and discover new worlds while defending his home from those that would wish to destroy their way of life. Basic training was easy for Cato, he would even call it easy at times. Although being short, Cato thought the skills he learned would turn him into a hardened warrior, capable of handling anything without fear. After finishing training and being deployed to the neighboring world of Mordant Prime, Cato quickly discovered that his training only prepared him for the basics of what he would face.
The heretics rebellion. as it was known, was in its end stages and Cato wanted to join the fighting before it was all over. He was Emboldened by the string of terror attacks employed by the so called “heretics”. The local human population of Mordant, deeply resented the cult of the sun and refused to assimilate into the church. The Ecclesia, was eager to expand their territory to yet another human planet. The proud people of Mordant prime would not allow these cultist to take their home without a fight and an organized rebellion ensued. After years of grinding attrition on both sides, the Solites gained the upper hand and pushed the Mordant rebels back to one final mega city. This final battle of the rebellion would be Cato’s first combat action

City 252 (Formerly known as Luiza City)



Cato gagged again, attempting to hide it within the sleeve of his uniform before being distracted by the sudden change in light. First, the dim red light that illuminated the troop bay of the ST-110 went out, quickly being replaced by a bright blue light completely illuminating the interior of the troop bay. Almost as quickly as the light changed, men were already readying weapons and gear for the upcoming assault. Cato’ stomach violently and audibly turned before he suddenly lurched forward, vomiting his breakfast rations all over his boots and the floor. For a moment, the feeling of embarrassment overtook the feeling of fear as he looked up, expecting to see the displeasure on the faces of his platoon mates. To his surprise, no one seemed to care or notice, increasing the uneasy feeling growing in Cato.
Once again, Cato was ripped from his own thoughts as the commander of the tank, quickly dropped down into the craft and hastily closed the hatch.

“ Cannon, second floor, 4 o-clock high”

the commander yelled before the electric whirring of the traversing turret could be heard, followed by the dull thuds of the weapon firing a quick burst.

“ Give em another burst”

The commander continued, before letting out a dark chuckle

“ You got em” he quipped, “ Prep the IR-Smoke”

He said before turning around to face the troop in the back

“ 30 seconds!” he yelled before flipping a switch, turning the lights back to a dull red.

The electrical engine of the ST-110 growled as the driver downshifted, slowly bringing the tank to a halt. Suddenly, a shrill siren sounded throughout the troop bay as the back of the craft opened up, exposing the battered hellscape of the outskirts of City 252.

“Lets Go!”

the platoon leader yelled as Cato was pretty much pushed out of the craft, before running to a trench line just in front of the tank. The city looked like a giant furnace, large infernos could be seen burning in some of its tallest buildings and smoke billowed high into the sky. An almost endless whine of aircraft could be heard as naval strike craft descended from the upper atmosphere to bomb the city, before returning to their carriers in orbit. The smell was unbearable, an acrid acidic smell mixed with decomposition wafted from the city as the wind picked up. The smell alone would turn your stomach but the soldiers milling around the trench did not seem to notice, as they sat at their posts smoking and talking amongst themselves. No one seemed too bothered that a new platoon had just jumped into their muddy home.

“ Third Platoon?!” a woman yelled as she slowly walked up to the group, the four pointed sun insignia on her chest plate easily identifying her as a captain.

“ Yes Maam” he platoon leader responded, walking past the group to speak quietly with the captain

Cato continued to look around the trench before walking to the edge, stepping up on a makeshift step to peer over. Haggard looking men, seemingly dressed in rags carried bodies from a truck bed to a giant pit, hastily dug in the ground. They were guarded by a number of soldiers, looking equally as somber at the procession of the dead. The bodies were dressed in a variety of civilian clothes and makeshift armor, ‘They are rebels’ Cato thought to himself. He continued to watch as the rebels carried the last of their dead to the pit before watching the body disappear behind the crest of the hole. With an audible sigh, two soldiers nodded at each other and walked up to the rebel group, ordering them to stand in front of the mass grave.

“Are they….” Cato said quietly to himself before his quip was cut short by the sound of automatic weapons fire.

“Shit….” Cato said in a surprised tone as he saw the rebels drop into the pit, almost falling back into the trench at the sight, his eyes wide with fear and surprise. He quickly stumbled back onto the makeshift step, looking as a third soldier threw an incendiary grenade into the pit before walking away.

“ We all return to ash” Cato heard behind him as quickly turned his head to see his platoon leader behind him, the yellow circle on his unclasped helmet clearly denoting him as a lieutenant.

“ Its scripture…… Through the cleansing flame of the stars we all return to ash in the end” the lieutenant said nodding towards the rest of the platoon walking away down the trench.

“ We have orders, keep up with your platoon private….and stay close” he finished before raising an eyebrow, waiting for Cato to start moving.

“ Y-Yes sir…” he sputtered, quickly jumping down from the step and taking off at a jog towards the rear of his platoon. This was certainly not the war he imagined, and he hadn’t even seen true combat yet.
Great! Can I move the sheet to the Character tab and start posting IC?
Might be the wrong wording, what I meant by that is all of their needs that require power are met from fusion generators. Seemingly limitless because its fusion, but still constrained by the general pitfalls in power generation, (Ie. space, storing it, by products and actual generation method). In a nutshell, all of their needs are met through fusion energy generation and they dont need to use anything else.
Hey Arawak, my sheet is ready for scrutiny
(moved)

So can I just? Jump in?
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