Chapter 28 - Episode: Planning and Preparations

Warrant Officer Eric Wyre stood in a small briefing room as it slowly filled with command personnel, both commissioned and senior NCO's. Almost everyone gave him an appraising look. He was new on the base, and even if they hadn't gotten an early hint of the mission, likely suspected he was part of the reason they were being called together. He'd kept his eyes to himself, mostly, and hadn't looked too closely at any of the others. Everyone was quiet and at attention. The General had given a general permission at ease after they'd all entered.

Something nagged at him though, when one of the women came into the room. Her dark hair, her powerful stride, and her deep chocolate toned skin were pleasing to the eyes, and the way she carried herself, powerfully, with the air of command. The Gunnery Sergeant, by her rank devices, had been avoiding Eric's eyes for the entire time. She wasn't standing where he could see her surname stripe.

Ten people, besides himself and General Kurthall, were in the room. The General had him standing close at hand. The planning screen behind the General and Eric had a projection of the district in question. No details were featured on it, yet. Standing near the General was a colonel with her red hair pulled back into a regulation bun. She had been the first person in the room to enter, after the General and Eric, and he introduced her as his second in command for operations.  

“We're still waiting on the last member of the command team, as well as the Civilian Police Detective and CCS Agent acting as oversight.” General Kurthall said, when the quiet in the room seemed to grow heavy. “They might be running late,” He started, but then there was a knock at the door. “Enter.” The General spoke up. The door opened and a soldier stepped in and came to a salute. The General nodded for him to speak.

“Sir.” The soldier spoke clearly. “Captain Rachel, Agent Tarquin, and Officer Woolrick are here, as requested.” He said. The General nodded and the soldier stepped back to allow the ladies in. Tarquin was first in, her suit crisp and freshly laundered, but the same suit she'd been wearing yesterday all the same. Her hair was in a different style and she had different shoes, so it gave the illusion of a new outfit. Probably not the first time she wore a suit twice over. That idle voice in his head pondered.

The Army personnel seated cracked some smirks at the appearance of a 'suit'. She ignored the grins, if she even noticed them, greeted General Kurthall respectfully, and took the seat he indicated for her.

Cornelia was next, and Eric restrained the surprise when he saw she was already in SWAT fatigues and combat webbing. She looked more like an armed security escort than someone at a tactical meeting. Her holsters were empty, but she had tags attached, and Eric was sure she'd checked her firearms and equipment at the door.

Cornelia's battledress wasn't lost on the Soldiers, and their jovial attitude died in their throats. She greeted the General, took a seat, but not before sneaking a short glance to Eric, and her eyes pinched in the same way they did when she smiled. Even if her lips were still set to 'stern professional glower'.  

If Cornelia had stifled the joking mood of the soldiers, Rachel downright killed it. When she stepped in, everyone was silent. Eric couldn't keep his jaw from dropping, just a little. She stood a half meter taller, her arms and legs now reinforced with combat bracing. Her core chassis had a reinforced shell over it that was reminiscent of dark age plate armor. While all of this was replaceable or modular equipment, it was enough to turn an armored unit into a pile of scrap.  

If this is what she was allowed to wear inside, his inner voice wondered, and let the thought hang as someone from the table spoke up.

“What the fuck is a ArchAngel doing here?” A woman in the line of officers spoke up, Eric looked and saw the Gunnery Sergeant had spoken up. “Sir?” She looked at the General, and Eric paled as he got a glance at her name stripe. The General had a smile on his face, but his eyes sternly met the Sergeant's.

“Stand down, Stewart; I'll get to expounding in just a moment. Everyone, take a seat.” He bid his officers. “Forgive me, Captain;” He said to Rachel. “I'd offer a seat,” He smirked and let the implication hang. She'd certainly flatten any of the chairs in the room at present.

“It's fine, General, some ladies get sensitive about their tonnage. I'm not one of them.” She smirked a little and took up a parade rest posture. Everyone else had seated, but Eric was standing still. He was the witness for the mission, after all.

“Good to hear,” The General nodded. “Warrant Officer, take a seat, before the light poles think you're taking their jobs.” He chuckled and tried to lighten the mood a little. It didn't do much. The General took a stand beside a podium with a console. “Tough crowd, tonight.” He harrumphed. Eric sat down in the only vacant seat, nearest, and risked a glance to Gunnery Sergeant Stewart.  

Holy shit, how didn't you see it before? He thought to himself. Sure the room was dim, and he had other things on his mind, and her hair was shorter, and he'd never seen Belle in anything more formal than a dress suit. I wonder if she has the same beauty mark on her left- 

“Let's begin.” The General started. “To be blunt, Ladies and Gentlemen, there is a Regulator within our jurisdiction that is in all likelihood proceeding quickly toward an unsanctioned and unchecked metamorphosis and certain rampancy.” He put the big card on the table first and the reactions on their faces were visible. “Our orders are to isolate its most likely area of operations, locate it, and keep the area clear while Captain Rachel engages and either eliminates the Regulator or brings it to heel.” He indicated the Sythnetic Super Soldier standing at attention. “We'll get to the meat and gears in a moment, for now. Questions?, anyone?”  

A first lieutenant, the distinctions for both Ranger and Special Operations on his uniform raised his hand up first. The General nodded at him.

“Sir,” He began. “How long has CCS been sitting on this one?” He asked, shooting a glare toward Tarquin. The General looked to Agent Tarquin, seeing the challenge posed by the Lieutenant.

“Agent Tarquin,” He offered, “You have the floor.” Tarquin stood and nodded.

“Thank you, General.” She looked at first to the Lieutenant, then the rest of the officers as she spoke. “The first reported incident was just two days ago, by Warrent Officer Eric Wyre, and his apartment's owner.” Tarquin replied, coolly. “My superiors determined it was likely a false report, and put it on a backlog.” She held up a hand before the lieutenant could speak again. “Warrant Officer Wyre contacted me through the Police after there was a concurrent encounter yesterday, and this morning he found evidence of a third near encounter.”

“The evidence points to the Regulator seeing the Warrant Officer as its 'Designated Technician.'"The General spoke up again. "I don't think I need to explain the implications?” He looked around and saw no raised hands. “Good, glad to see everyone's caught up on their homework.” There were some smiles and a chuckle in the room. “Finally,” He sighed, “Yes, Major?” He said when a cyborg officer raised his hand.

“Warrant Officer Wyre was present at all three encounters, Sir?” A Major with cyber-prosthetic optics turned his head toward Eric. The General nodded. “Why wasn't there a report to his commanding officer, Sir?”

“Warrant Officer Wyre,” The General explained, “was on the inactive reserve list, until this morning. He will be attached to my command unit, for the duration of this incident.” He looked to Eric and motioned for him to stand. “But let's hear him explain exactly why,” He nodded to Eric. Eric stood and faced the rest of the officers.  

“Yes, Major, I was present at all three incidents. As for my means of reporting, I was on the inactive list at the time, so I reported it through civilian channels.” He looked pointed at Agent Tarquin, “Even if I had been on active duty, the law states that any and all Regulator activity is reported to CCS and local authorities before the military.” He looked back at the Major and saw the frown growing on the superior officer's face. “My landlady and I processed the reports appropriately and when CCS seemed to be 'delayed',” He spoke in more gentle tone then he might have, had he not met previously Abigail in person, “I went to the police. I had seen and spoken with it-”

“Wait, you spoke with it?” The Major's optics spun, outwardly, and Eric was sure the Major had engaged some sort of active scanning. Rachel's optics narrowed, and her lips pulled tight. Eric looked to the General, who nodded for him to continue.

“Yes, sir. The second time, through my apartment window, when it threatened my pet slime.” He indicated Drip, where she was resting in her container on the table. “The first time when I was inspecting my apartment's life support filtration during Early Morning Haze. There were unusual readings on my apartment unit's climate display, and I am  of one my apartment's registered Technicians. I investigated, and the Regulator was up there, waiting.”

A Captain raised his hand and the General nodded for him to proceed.

“Waiting for what, Warrant Officer?” Another Captain asked, lacing his fingers together.

“A Technician qualified to operate on it and repair a fault in its systems.” Eric answered, directly.

“Well, what did you do, then?” The Captain asked.

“I repaired its fault, at least the one it knew about. There was an error in-” The Major's hand went up. Eric paused, “Yes, Major?”

“A question, my apologies for interrupting,” The cyborg Major spoke up again. Eric couldn't read his name stripe from this angle, “You worked on a Regulator?” He asked. Eric nodded. “Successfully?” Eric nodded again, and the Major's gaze shot to Eric's uniform. “Your uniform shows only Tier Five qualifiers.” The Major looked to the General who had an inscrutable smile as he watched the interplay between his officers and Wyre.

Eric smiled. “That is my official tested rating, Sir, yes.”

“But it's not your 'practical' skill rating, is it?” The Major asked. Eric didn't notice the smile growing on the General face as the Major seemed to push further. Eric smiled. “What is your practical skill rating, Warrant Officer?” He asked, directly. AH, I really can't answer that, can I?

“I'm afraid I can't say, sir.” Eric shrugged. Rather I 'may' not tell him. Orders are orders.

“I beg your pardon, Warrant Officer?” He didn't like that...

“I'm sorry, sir?” Eric smiled. “What part didn't you hear?” The General's gonna have me audit basic, I'm treading the line with this Major...

“I'm asking you what your rating is.” The Major asked, and Eric gave him a confused look.

“Is it not on my uniform, Sir?” He looked down. “Nope, right there: Rating five.” He nodded. “It should be up to date,” He commented. “I was given a fresh uniform once I shipped back from OZ.” That was probably more than he should have given away, but he was wearing the green and gold brick OZ tour stripes on his uniform.

“That'll be enough, then.” The General stepped back in. I might have pushed it. He thought, inwardly. “Warrant Officer Wyre has... proven his ability in the field, but not in a scenario that can fits current criteria for promotions and accreditation.”

“Sir?” The Major had one last jab for information. Okay, I think I can give him something without breaking the Secrets Act.

“It was an asymmetrical encounter.” Eric offered. He heard a soft cough from the side, from the General's side. Damn. Still, he saw the corners of the General's lips turn up. Ha!

“I think I understand,” The Major leaned back, his optics returning to normal. “My apologies, Warrant Officer.” He offered, diplomatically. Spoken like a gentleman.

“It's quite alright, Major.” Eric said, and when he saw the General nod, Eric sat back down. There was a long quiet as no more questions were asked, the General nodded toward a woman who had been standing beside him.

“Well if that's settled,” The Colonel with fire red hair and a chilly accent to her voice leaned forward. “How will be responding to this threat, General?”

“Our response, Colonel,” He gestured up at the map, “Is to quarantine the area that is most likely the entrance to this Regulator's lair.” As he spoke he tapped the console and the fundamental outlines of a plan began to draw themselves over the map. “Then, we insert forces, and determine if the Regulator is undergoing metamorphose. If it is: Captain Rachel will terminate.” He said, firmly. “If not: she ensures the Regulator recognizes how close to the line they've tread, and the need for them to receive Realignment therapy.” He offered the alternative as a diplomatic possibility.  

Rachel's face was unreadable, and Eric understood why. It was a binary situation, with very low odds on the General's bright side. “At the moment,” he gestured at the rough outline. “We've got a book standard deployment of containment, but given that the district in question is under reconstruction, this meeting will be a hard and fast look at the AO to make sure we don't leave even a pipe unaccounted for. I've already got lock down approval for the district so main utility points won't be an issue. I'm worried about the ruins and the smaller secondary connections.” The General said, and a holographic projection rose from the table and an open examination of the mission began.

Eric had every reason to believe they were going to be going into a hard fight, against a mid-metamorphose Regulator. The planning stages lasted two hours, and covered everything from the layout of the sewer system to the likely risks they were going to encounter. Eric found himself speaking up when it came to a number of the environmental hazards, and potential 'local' threats.

“If the Regulator has set up more than two levels down, we're going to be seeing a high rate of insect and black slime encounters. There's also increasing chances of Mimics in these areas.” He pointed out several regions of specialized equipment that once converted raw material into resources for Survival Bunkers.  

Once, the City had been an empty and desolate desert in the shadow of the continent's tallest mountains 'the Rockies'. The undesirable location had made it a tactically sound place to build survival bunkers, far from anything of tactical value. During the Fall, its population had been shipped in, made up of groups believed to be clean of the Virus that precipitated all the chaos that followed.

Now those bunkers, long abandoned, were the nests to the pests and inbred descendants of the 'house keepers' that had automatically kept everything running. Once marvels of science, now abominations of mankind's hubris. Eric shook off the gloomy metaphors and listened into the summary of the plan.

The main task force would make up an inner perimeter, with a haze-suited police force operating on the outside of the same line. The police would lock down the whole district and manually seal the Regulator in, or out if it was somewhere else. The Army would have four ground teams that would search in a grid like pattern while Captain Rachel would be her own 'flying cavalry' unit to deploy when the Regulator was spotted.  

Eric would be attached to one of the four infiltration unit's: Gunnery Sergeant Stewart's. Fantastic. He thought to himself, but kept his poker face solid.

“Everyone suit up.” The General stood up, and everyone stood up with him. “We launch two hours before curfew, that should give us time to set up. Dismissed.”He said, and the officers started filing out. Eric looked at the clock. That gave him less than an hour to find the quarter master, gear up, and-

“Warrant Officer.” He turned and Gunnery Stewart had come around the table to stand almost toe to toe with him. Her tits might have gotten in the way. Even in uniform, Eric could tell, she was definitely a relative of Belle.

“Gunnery Sergeant.” He nodded. He felt Rachel and Cornelia staring at the back of his head. Heard the General cough. “Ah, Captain Rachel, Our base has some specialized equipment I think you'd might like to use, but we'll need Agent Tarquin to sign off on it.” He said, and Eric realized he was politely asking them to leave. “Officer Woolrick, I do have some questions about what you've got in your vehicle's trunk.” He added.  

All the while, the Gunnery Sergeant had been staring Eric right in the eyes, and Eric refused to blink until he heard the click of the door, and was sure that Drip was the only other living thing in the room besides himself, and the Sergeant; the potted plants were the idle plastic sort.

“So.” She began.

“Yes?” Eric replied.

“She isn't named, but your report does say that the Regulator damaged your apartment's railings after a 'romantic evening' with someone.”

“That's a personal detail, Sergeant, and not one relevant to the mission.”

“If the Regulator recognizes her as a target, it might be. If you've withheld information from the General-”

“The General knows.” Eric shot back, “He has a squad on protection detail.” It wasn't a lie. Eric had spoken to the General, after Belle and the others had left, to ask him if he could assign some protection to Belle. The General was one step ahead of Eric. The General was discretely deploying what he called Orange Squad. He'd also added that Eric might need that detail to avoid any misunderstandings in the near future. “Orange Squad, he said.” He added, hoping this was when that detail would come of use.

“Good.” She said, softly. The Gunnery Sergeant's posture changed. She wasn't not angry anymore, but her anger wasn't directed at Eric, at least entirely. She cracked a smile. “Glad to see Belle finally found a man that has a spine, and some God damned common sense.” She sighed. “Wish she'd told me she'd found someone though.”

“It only reached that point last night,” Eric admitted, “And the torn up railing spoiled the mood, and probably distracted her.” He defended Belle's lapse in communicating with her relative. “I wish she'd told me she had a sister on the base when we were here earlier...” He sighed, and Gunnery  Steward laughed.

“Try again, short stuff.” She smiled. Eric frowned. Yes, she was taller than Belle, and in uniform shoes, too, but 'short stuff'? Really.

“Cousin?” Eric ventured, and Gunnery Stewart shook her head. Oh no. “Mother?” He asked, and the grin told him he'd got it on that third guess. Oh lord, preserve me.

 “Zoe-Collete Stewart.” She offered a hand. “Good to meet you, Warrant Officer,” She said when he took her hand. Holy callouses, Batman. He thought as he felt the worn hands on the woman.“Welcome to the Borough Beasts.” She grinned and Eric realized she was warming up to him.

“I won't slow you down.” He promised. She laughed and lead him out of the meeting room. She was directly in charge of forty soldiers, specifically trained in the use of Mobile Close Air Objects. It was a classification for various hovercraft from personal flight units, all the way up to armored heavy artillery.  

 A Regulator, though, wasn't something you could really train for, they were individualistic, and usually the right idea was to wait for 'HTY', Heavier Than You, support. That's where Stewart's 'Beasts' came in, they were an armored unit that specialized in urban combat. Rather than a 'squad' of fully armored tanks, a single heavily armored vehicle, armed for person and near-person sized targets, was the centerpiece to a flock of combat vehicles. It was an impressive battlewagon, Eric thought, but it wasn't Stewart's ride. Instead it was her second in commands duty to command the floating armor, while Stewart operating on one of the lighter craft, and kept a clear view of the surroundings.  

Stewart's vehicle must have started its existence as a four person scouting transport, designed to move a fire team to where they needed to go, no matter the terrain. However, its engines had been improved, communication and sensor hardware took up some of rear space, and the rest of the back seat was dedicated to a mounted heavy cannon, that was operated from the passenger seat.  

“I lead from the front.” Stewart explained to Eric as he read through the checklist of preparing her vehicle. She'd decided to keep him close at hand, and 'out of everyone's hair.' She had told him, jokingly, as he finished his checklist for the customized craft.

“The General lets you modify your equipment this much?” He asked after he was familiar with the craft. Whomever had done the upgrades had been a professional, and had done the improvements without compromising the vehicles armor or heat signature. She nodded to his question.

“We have to go through a shit ton of paperwork for each modification, but he'll sign off on what we need to make it a better vehicle. Not much to do to improve a tank,” She chuckled, “But a hover-car? That can always use some tinkering.” She stretched her arms in front of her.

Eric had to agree on the paperwork part, the attached paperwork for clearing the modified vehicle was twice what he'd normally see when signing out a craft for a mission. He did see something he wasn't too surprised about.

“We carry extra emergency medical supplies?” He asked, and Stewart nodded again.  

“We can't run out of those, and if need be, I can ditch the firepower to carry a wounded soldier and at least one corpsman.”

“I bet leaving that behind would piss someone off.” He pointed at the heavy mounted gun. Stewart smiled wider.

“Since it deploys as an automated, or remotely controlled, defense turret,” She looked at Eric, “I would say that yes, someone would have a very bad day.” She continued to point out more of the features of her ride.

Stewart's unit's usual sort of action took them down into the Under-City on a monthly basis. Their job was to clear out any minor threats that were in their patrol path, and if did they find signs of larger threats, gather evidence, determine the nature of the threat, then call down specialized extermination units, outfitted for the particular threat. They'd provide over watch and supporting fire, but let the appropriate tool dismantle the threat.

Today wasn't much different. Gunnery Stewart made it clear that their objective was to locate the Regulator, or evidence of its metamorphose cocoon, then call in Captain Rachel. Engaging was not on the list, and she wanted to see all of them back at the barracks when it came time to debrief and hoist a glass. Eric hoped things would go that smoothly.

There was a page that went out over the PA, similar that ones that had come before it, since the planning meeting had ended, calling Gunnery Sergeant Stewart and her forces, and by extension Warrant Officer Wyre, to the Girding Station.

Girding was the process of equiping a full set of military grade power armor. Unlike the armored suit he'd worn to clean out under the apartment, this was top of the line, front line, armor; Dragonscale.

“Ready to get kinky, Warrant Officer?” One of the corporals in the locker room asked as they entered. The first layer of power armor was a skindex suit that hugged every curve of the body. It had the additional effect of waxing a person smooth. Jokes about 'baby smooth' or S&M were part and parcel.

“Holy Fuck.” Someone said as Eric stripped down out of his dress uniform. Oh right, scars. “Who came after you, Sir?” He turned and saw a concerned couple of faces.

“The asshats my ex-wife invited into my home.” He said, flatly. He bagged up his outfit and slid it into a locker with his name, rank, and service number displayed on the lock panel. He walked naked toward a line of other soldiers waiting to get the undermost layer. His ID tags were in his hand.

His turn came and he stepped onto a circular platform. The surface had a black, sticky but dry layer on it, as he stood on two stenciled 'footprints'. He held up his arms to the side, and let an operator hold his tags, while a ring rose around the outside of the platform, spreading the layer up his legs, his groin, his torso, and over his arms. His fingers were open wide as it covered over his fingers and up to his neck. There was a snap, and the layer pulled against the ring, leaving him standing covered neck to toe in a black layer against his skin. He took his tags back and walked over to where the Girding could continue.

Dragonscale wasn't just called that for kicks, it was genuinely considered the height in infantry survival technology. Capable of warding off gamma radiation, Haze nanites, and everything up to electromagnetic rounds, it made a soldier indestructible to hazards ranging from firearms to high speed vehicle collisions.

“Hold up, Warrant Officer,” A Senior Warrant Officer with the Technical branch devices on her uniform held up a hand before he was too close to the machines that would apply the armor to the underlayer. “You've been green-lit for internal reactivation, over here, please.” She gestured toward a side room.

Eric didn't complain or disagree out loud, but once the door was closed, and he saw a doctor with a Major's rank devices and a somewhat familiar device standing in the room, he did. He saluted the Major, and she returned the salute, before he spoke.

“Major,” He read her namestripe, “Bainsworth. I have a question, if I may?” He asked, as he approached the machine, slowly.

“I can guess what it might be, Warrant Officer,” She nodded, “Go ahead.”

“Why am I being fully reactivated? I didn't expect this threat to last long enough to merit this.” He gestured at the machine, even as he sat down on the dentist like chair. He felt it grip to his under layer and hold him tight against it.

“I know it's the General orders, and those orders have been approved by the Office of the General Surgeon of the Armed Forces, Warrant Officer. Worried?” She said as she began to operate a device that prodded into Eric's lower back, electricity stimulated his internal organs in very specific ways.

“After this, I have to deal with my ex-wife and her cucking boyfriend and his 'business partners'.” He frowned.  

“They the ones who scratched you up in the first place?” She asked, and Eric felt his heart rate slowing as his muscles began to tense. “There's an affirmative, I see.” She said. “So, worried about breaking Enhancement Law?” She said, as Eric tested his grip, and felt his muscles working with much less effort to carry out the same tasks.

“Pretty much, if they hadn't been fucking my ex when I came home, I'm sure the judge would have hit me with battery charges anyway.” He lifted his arm up from the chair, fighting over a hundred kilos in force exerted by the chair's 'tension testers'.  

“Serves them right, from what you said so far.” She said, “Okay, readings are good, the Level One restraints that were still engaged have been deactivated, and as well as the blockers on your Level Two support passives,” she declared for the record. “Levels three and four will remain in place, unless a War Order is declared.” She stated and Eric nodded as he pushed himself out of the seat.

He bounced once on his heels. Only having a single restraint level had been weird when he'd first shipped home. It had been old hat for him to lift incredibly dense objects with ease, run for klicks without breaking a sweat, and his calorie intact had been worrisome, with his budget.

Then he was 'normal' again, mostly normal. He had passed the exam for certain Level One boosts to stay 'on' when he came back home. The same boosts that had let him shrug off a knife wound, and a chair broken over his back, were not operating at full.

He inhaled, and exhaled, and went back to find a place in the line up for his armor.

Dragonscale fit to the user closely, and the polished grey-white metal was made up of interlocking segments that allowed for total freedom of movement while still keeping everything protected. There were no exterior indications of rank, and standard operations declared that saluting was forbidden while deployed in armor, when operating against an intelligent enemy.

No point pointing out officers to an enemy sniper, after all.

The whole thing fit him like an armored gauntlet over a glove, but with his enhancements reactivated, he could feel through the printed layer circuits and sensors. It was like being naked, but being almost invincible at the same time.

Almost.

In addition to the normal Dragonscale, his armor had a Technician and Engineer modules attached. These controlled macrobot devices would let him repair virtually anything from the reserve of raw matter they contained, or tear apart literally everything not explicitly on the 'do not deconstruct' list. It was a good weight to have on his shoulders.

He smiled as he approached Gunnery Stewart. Eric's helmet displayed her name, rank, and upon getting close, was interrogated by the command modules on her armor. It confirmed his ID, and linked his armor into a Close Area Network with Stewart's armor, her vehicle's communication suite, and the unit's tank's computer all linking to share the load of communicating between everyone under Stewart's command, and receiving commands.

To that effect, a hologram of both the General and the Colonel were hovering just in front of Gunnery Sergeant Stewart. Eric approached and nodded respectfully as saluting in armor was a faux pas. At the General and Colonel's nods, he waited quietly until he was spoken to.

“Everything is in place, as far as red tape goes, Stewart.” The General concluded, “We are still waiting to get the green light to deploy Rebecca if things escalate to her level.” He said, “If it comes down to it, I can get 'verbal' permission if the paperwork doesn't come through in time.” He smiled.

“General, it's good to know she'll be there if things get to that scale,” Gunnery Stewart said, “But we'll do our part to make sure that's not needed, Sir.” She smiled.

“I know you will, Zoe.” He said with a smile. “Warrant Officer,” He turned to look at Eric who stepped forward, “How's the armor fit?”

“General,” He nodded, “Better than it used to, Sir. Tastes better too.” He tapped his chin. The Colonel smiled.

“They got rid of the 'flavored' filtration units.” She said, “There's a sundry list of other bug fixes they've come up with, you can familiarize yourself on your way in.” She said and Eric nodded.

“Will do, Ma'am.” He confirmed.  

“Eric,” The General spoke in a more paternal tone. “I'm sure you've got questions about why you've had your 'fetters' lessened.” He said, and paused to give Eric a chance to speak.

“I do, Sir,” He nodded, “But, respectfully, I think the mission comes first, Sir.” The General chuckled.

“It does, son,” He nodded back, “I promise I'll give you a proper explanation after this mission is over, so you better come back to hear it. That's an order.” General gave an old wolfish grin.

“Sir! Yes, sir.” Eric stood straight and nodded. The General nodded, and dismissed both Stewart and Wyre to mount up and signal they were ready to deploy.

Eric sat in the passenger seat, a list of the changes to the armor's hardware and software ticking in the corner of his eye as he familiarized himself with the vehicles gunner controls. Stewart's group all checked in green to go and she confirmed to the Major over her in command that she was ready.  

The Colonel's voice came out over the comms.

“This is Colonel Tabitha McDonnell, to all units of Task Force Rho.” Her voice was stern, and Eric could imagine the silence descending across the deployed force. “Our objective today is to ensure the continued safety of this City's citizens. Should the Target break out of the operations area, and threaten the citizenry; any and all means you have at your disposal are approved to defend the people of this city. Property damage is a nonissue, so long as no civilians are harmed. Stand by your brothers and sisters in arms, stand by your oaths, and honor this Army with your service.” Eric smiled at the speech; it was a good one. He could see nods and fist bumps from the armored soldiers around him, and the not inconsiderable amount of firepower preparing to deploy.

“Task Force Rho,” Colonel McDonnell's voice rang in his ears and across the loudspeakers around him. “ROLL OUT!”


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Much thanks to Skiratas and Aeronator for Editing and USSTemplar for military checking. 
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