The merchant jumpship entered the Perkasie Zenith jump point on schedule, its 4 dropships detatched and burned twords the planet on their correct vectors and speed, and all challeneges from the planet's space traffic control were answered correctly. Thus nobody paid much attention to the dropships, even though they entered the atmosphere a few degrees off from their nominal flight path. It meant that instead of coming down straight onto the planet's largest spaceport, they were about 40 klicks off target. Mistakes happen of course, and nothing was thought of it.
Luckily for the cargo, the ionization of the hulls, and the mass and close formation of the dropships shielded their cargo from discovery. The Death Commandos that delpoyed from the dropships had all done this multiple tmes before, and while not routine, was not outside their normal operational playbook. After dropping all 3 groups, the Death Commandos regrouped. The 1st and 2nd Striker Lance from the 1st Battalion, aswell as the 'Black Guards' Command Lance from the 2nd Battalion had all regrouped, and proceeded under cover of darkness, their reactors running at minimal output for ther speeds. Thanks to their Stealth Armored machines, and the abundance of ECM activity, there was almost zero chance the company of mechs would be discovered before they hit their target.
I'm switching sides on this mission :)
FS Raid Defense Roll
[blockquote]Rolled 2d6 : 4, 6, total 10[/blockquote]
(OOC: General guidance for the WHXS side of the fight sent to DK)
[blockquote]Rolled 2d6 : 2, 2, total 4[/blockquote]
So CS didn't post it, but he had 4.5 FP
3FP of Elite Death Commandos(3 SF teams)
5.5 FP of WHXS defenders respond, aswell as 1FP of Perkasie Militia
Total defenders: 6.5
combat roll
[blockquote]Rolled 2d6 : 5, 5, total 10[/blockquote]
critical check
[blockquote]Rolled 2d6 : 1, 2, total 3[/blockquote]
no critical
Combat Resolution:
CE forces:
4.5 * 20% = 1FP
WHXS forces:
6.5 * 60% = 4 FP
CE loses 2 SF teams, and the last one drops to .25FP of its nominal 1 FP
Planetary Militia ASF Initiative
[blockquote]Rolled 2d6 : 2, 1, total 3[/blockquote]
initiative (death commando)
[blockquote]Rolled 2d6 : 4, 6, total 10[/blockquote]
Federated Suns
[blockquote]Rolled 2d6 : 4, 6, total 10[/blockquote]
[Omniscient view]
The raid info was a trap-the Xin Sheng were here, and they were waiting for the recon team. Sang-wei Helena Ostrokopoulis managed to drag three of her team back using the remaining right-hand actuator of her Vindicator, returing fire at the enemy as they retreated. Most of the Battalion were gone-the locals had pre-plotted right on-top of the approaching Death Commando force, dropping thick artillery barrages before closing.
But she'd confirmed it- 'Warrior House Xin Sheng' was using Perkasie as both a staging base, and training facility. More disturbingly, they apparently had known the recon was coming.
There is a mole. it had to be a mole. Someone told them exactly when and where the raid would be happening.
"All ships, Lift, NOW." she ordered as the ramps closed on the Leopard-the others wouldn't be coming, but their transports could, maybe, serve as cover to get the information out to the jump point.
The dropships lifted and burned hard for orbit-they had to-the locals were sending fighters, and it wsa NOT as an escort...
Warrior Jacobson tilted his mech's torso and watched as the Capellan Leopard lifted off, barely a lance of the Capellan Death Commandos having survived their pre-emptive assault. He keyed in a quick, pre-loaded burst to the WHXS comms hut, which then relayed to the Perkasie CMM Fairchild Airbase, the only CMM airbase currently in use, as the main CMM forces were off planet at the moment. This had allowed the WHXS to remain so unseen, as the Govorner was handsomly paid to keep his eyes averted...
Fairchild CMM Airfield, Perkasie
Leftenant Alice Cromartie fed power to her thrusters, and felt the acceleration slam her back into her seat. The Squadron contained a number of lighter aerospace fighters, Sabres, Sparrowhawks and the like. However, for this situation, Captain Hammel had decided that firepower was more important- they were hunting a dropship after all. As such, of the 6 aerospace fighters that were lifting, 4 were medium Corsairs, supporting the 2 heavy-hitters, Thunderbird TRB-D56 'Big Game Hunters'. The Thunderbirds were designed with firepower output foremost in mind, and excelled at this type of mission. The Leopard that contained the fleeing Commandos had been identified from the ground, and it was their primary target.
Alice pulled the stick, lifting the pointed nose of her Corsair into a ballistic trajectory. They would catch their prey in the black.
"Cromartie to Flight Alpha-Tango-24, formation Diamond 2, push the throttles. We'll make a pass, and let the T-birds land the uppercut. Nominal weapons range, 4 minutes."
Captain Jerrod Klaus looked at his scanners with some concern. It appeared that the planetary milita, or rather the recent call-ups to replace the actual Perkasie PDF, which were on dropships behind him, had launched aerospace fighters to intercept what looked to be a Capellan-flagged Leopard. Confusing, because according to the flightplan for Perkasie, there were no Capellan jumpships due here for another 3 days.
It had confused the captain of the VRS Verde, and as the warship escort for this troop re-deployment, it was squarely in his hands to decide how best to handle a potentially rouge dropship. As a percaution, he had ordered a full spread, 2 flights of 6 fighters each, 6 from the Verde's complement, 6 from the 2nd Chilsom Raiders. In charge was the Verde's CAG, Captain Klaus, with express orders from the Commodore to investiagte and not just shoot first.
Klaus checked his instruments, and saw that their flight path would allow them to intercept the Capellan Dropship about 2 minutes behind the Perkasie fighters. He could have ordered full burn and arrived first, but assumed it was nothing so critical and decided to save fuel instead.
Bridge of the Leopard class "Sun Bear
"That, is one hell of a lot of metal ahead." the pilot noted. Helena looked at the imagers and plots. "Those are FedSuns regulars out there, we have no fighter cover, a pursuing squadron, and they're between us, and our ride out."
"What are your orders, ma'am?" the pilot asked, steeling himself for the inevitable 'charge through and die'.
"Tightbeam to the biggest military vessel on our scopes, 'We will surrender if we are allowed to', have the gunners cover our six-I get the feeling we're a hell of a lot more likely to live to finish this mission if we're in their hands, than that local governor's." she said quietly, "at least, the Feddie regular troops follow rules."
"Career suicide, ma'am?" he asked.
"No, Mission First-Regular troops are a hell of a lot more likely to ask intelligent questions and review gun-camera and sensor data, than...the locals are." she said, "besides, I don't think we can over-thrust those Corsairs, do you?"
"Broadwave our recon-data, maybe the jumpers will pick it up and boogie out." she added, "The feddies know we are here, they'll pick it up too-with any luck, we'll get exchanged back in a few months-but in the meantime, we have to survive to get exchanged, and what we came here for is too critical to let it just sit."
"Yes Ma'am. Glory to the Empress." the pilot aknowledged, and the comms officer started sending.
"The Miliz are still on us..." the gunner announced, and the leopard shook. in seconds, the command deck was a flood of red emergency lights and amber sirens.
"Losing fuel pressure on number two, number one thruster is out-" The Leo shook again.
"Keep sending." Helena barked, "That data HAS to make it out of here."
Jerrod's eyes widened as he saw the first pass of the Militia's fighters, opening fire without so much as a simple 'heave too'.
"Max burn, we've got to end this before it gets ugly!" The FS forces punched in their thrusters to max, but it would still be a long 55 seconds before they would be in a position to affect the scene playing out before them...
**************************
The Militia fighters streaked over the fleeing Capellan dropship, the four Corsairs opened fire. The beams of the combined large lasers punched into the armor surrounding the thruster nacelles, slagging armor and shorting circuitry. It was obvious these were upgraded models, as two of the fighters opened up with missile packs, and of the dozen missiles loosed into the black, 7 impacted on the top surface of the dropship, scorring armor and causing warning klaxxons to start blaring in the mid-sections of the ship. The swath of medium lasers added more damage to the armor plating, but by the time they were triggered, the Corsairs had overflown their target, and most of the lasers' energy was wasted into space.
Not entirely without teeth, the Leopard's gunners letting fly with dozens of missiles, chewing into the armor of the attacking Corsairs, while the Large Lasers attempted to find their marks. The PPCs had better luck, 2 of them merging into the single wing on the rear Corsair, sending it spinning out of control. As it's allies attempted to change their vectors, the Leopard pounded the stricken fighter, medium and large lasers punching through the thickly armored skin of the Corsair, and eventually a Large Laser punched into the engine bay and the fighter's power died instantly.
It was now, however, that the Dropship's real problems began, as the heavy autocannon rounds from the Thunderbirds began impacting into the hull of the leopard. The Ultra-class autocannons pumped out a stream of high-explosive rounds, blasting chunks of armor from the drop's rear quarters, as the starboard main engine flared and died as the power feeds got damaged. The Thunderbirds approached to very close ranges, before opening up with their Heavy PPCs, burning into the Leopard's internal structure, melting internal walls and partitions, and venting several compartments to space, before going by and unleashing a parting barrage of LRMs, which failed to do much more that dent the frontal armor of the dropship.
Many more passes like that, and the dropship would be in dire straights.
"come on you sluggish piece of shit roll...roll..." The Leopard shook again...and again. "Next time, we bring the fighters..." the sensation of thrust abated.
A blue splash at the weapons console-electricty arcing into the gunner for the starboard weapons, the smell of charred meat, and incoherent screaming.
"put that fire out, it is distracting me." the Pilot muttered, and the armoured windscreen starred with a crackling sound. "Roll you sluggish stupid bitch..."
Helena pulled the injured, writhing, incoherent gunner from his couch, and looked at the targeting systems-they were melted, smoking, and utterly useless.
"We're blind portside." she said.
"I know." the pilot replied, "Where is the medic?"
"Trapped in section three-I had two casualties from the ground action down there." she answered.
"There are three more coffins to fill, then." he replied, "Section three just loss press...did the signal get out?" he asked.
"You can't stop the signal." the comms tech said, "Whether OUR people heard it or not, I don't know, but it's out there."
The Pilot slid his seat back, and spun it around, "Nav Console's out." he said, "We have Aux air and lighting for now, but we're effectively dead in space...anyone up for a game of cards while we wait to die?"
The Corsairs of the Perkasie Milita were about to make their second run, knowing that this would likly land them their prey, when a volley of lasers surged across their bow. Quickly checking sensors, they soon realized that they were being hailed on a standard FedSuns frequency by atleast a dozen aerospace fighters, with a number of hulking dropships only minutes behind.
After swift communication between the two flight leaders, the Perkasie fighters turned and made their way back to the planet's surface, while a number of small craft detatched from the lead Conquistador dropship, and made their way to the stricken leopard. All but a pair of the aerospace fighters from the fleet followed the Perkasie-bound milita flight, looking strikingly like an escort.
***********************
On board Capellan Dropship 'Sun Bear'
The sound of heavy thumping could be heard in the bridge, the reverberations of armored footfalls hitting the decking. It took only minutes for the forms of a squad of Davion IS Standard battle armored infantrymen to enter the bridge, weapons not quite held to the floor. Without a word, the squad of men stood and waited in silence , while the sound of armored footfalls continued. Two more armored infantrymen led a man wearing a PAL suit, and it was he who addressed the crew of the Sun Bear.
"It looks like you lot had an interesting ride. I'm Donovan, Jake Donovan, and I'm here to make sure you lot survive re-entry. The Duke is en route as we speak, and I've a feelin he'll be quite interested to see what a Capellan strike team was doing in his realm. I'd also send a message to your friends at that jumpship to put their droppers on the deck and not make any attempts to jump away. The Verde, that Fox-class out there? She has twitchy gunners, I've seen em. Drink to much, thats their problem."
"Well...I'm sure the Duke will, Mister Donovan, but given that you've caught a bus-load of spies who know something your local governor really doesn't want out, I might suggest you bring someone from DMI to the interrogation-and maybe have a diplomat sit in, too." Helena said, "Everything is in the file." she palmed out a datastik, "Assuming the current Detente is something your superiors would like to see continue you might want to have some good tech-heads go over the recorders in the 'mechs in the currently un-pressurized bay-assuming their recorders survived whatever blew the pressure out down there-in the meantime, First I thank you for rescuing us, and second, I assert my rights under the Articles of War as a Prisoner-that is, to be held in Regular Military Custody, where I can't have a convenient Accident or be shot trying to escape."
She watched his expression for a moment, "Means we're surrendering, just in case you're unclear on that-think of it as a Guiness Book moment-you just captured a Death Commando, and she didn't even try to bite the suicide pill first. Even a graduate of NAIS could figure out what that means-it means whatever we found down there, we think you folks need to know it as much as our folks, and I'm willing to suicide my career to make sure you get it...as long as they do, too."
Donovan just shrugged.
"Don't git yourself all worked up lady, I'm just the techie that's puttin your boat back together. You want to worry about getting shot, you're gonna have to deal with the Marshal, or the Duke himself. I'd be letting that jumper of yours know to let their charge dissapate though. Like i said, twitchy gunners." Donovan considered for a moment.
"As to your little accusations of 'accidents' and 'escapes'...don't think much of either is likly. Job like this, your people arn't expecting to hear from you again unless you got in, and got out. Prolly already wrote you off as gone. So I'd be pretty sure that any time we felt like gettin rid of you lot, wouldn't even bat an eye over in Cappie land. Just keep that in mind before you say something that sounds like another assertation, or demand, especially to the Duke." Donovan nodded and kicked himself out of the bridge and back down to the ruined decks to begin welding fresh sheets to the hull.
**5 hours later**
The 'Sun Bear' landed amongst the numerous AFFS dropships, and a host of troops: a full RCT had landed, alongside the REAL Perkasie PDF. The fakers, or atleast the aerospace fighters, were sitting under the wings of their fighters, looking very much like children who'd been scolded and told to sit in the corner.
Donovan led the Capellans out of the Leopard, to be met by 2 squads of armoured infantrymen, and a man wearing a captain's insignia. The Captain salutted and grinned.
"Getting your hands dirty again Major?"
Donovan cast a glance over his shoulder to see the Cappie leader's mouth hang slightly open at his rank.
"Right-o Cap. Lets get these few over to the mess, Duke Hasek should be arriving in about 14 hours."