Mercenary Command

Full Version: Satalice: Police Brutality
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“What idiot puts an above ground fuel tank farm in the middle of a city, and then builds his fortress inside the blast radius?”

“I don’t know Colonel,” the intel flunkie responded, “but it is my job to call you attention to it because its in your intended attack path and a hazard.”

Royce waved his hand at the youngster. “Fine, fine. Its your job. Anything else?”

“Yes sir. Sir, the police station the Wolves have holed up is rated to withstand an orbital strike. We think it might be re-purposed SLDF. But you’re guns won’t be able to scratch it meaningful in a short skirmish. And the clanners are mounting hardened turrets on the parapets. That’s all sir.”

“Fine fine. Get out of here.”

Royce watched the intel officer scurry off, then stared at the whiskey tumbler on his desk like the amber liquid in it would give him all the answers if he willed it hard enough.

Eventually he picked up the datapad tucked under it and pulled up the latest maps and force estimates.

While he starred down at the green lines of text his hand reached out of its own accord and seized the tumbler, bringing it where it was needed. “There has to be a way”, the grizzled Colonel muttered to himself.
Royce thought he had finally found a way to tackle the old FRR police station where the Wolves were holed up. He had to approach through the tank farm, the western approach was the only break in clan lines free of mines. But that didn't mean he had to leave it intact. The BAP on the Koshi he had borrowed from the Diamondbacks would make sure he could even wait to do it till the clansmen were standing next to it. He laughed a nasty little laugh to himself, alone his his cockpit. The mutinous Major Manne would have had kittens about what he was doing, bringing heavy artillery into a space still occupied by civilians and planning to hit a target bound to explode so violently. Damn him anyways, the bastard never did have the stomach to do the dirty work that needed doing.

This Star Colonel Jussi thought him cut from the same weak cloth. All guts and bluster, no iron in his belly. The clanner wishfully imagined a few casualties would slow him down or force him to call off his heavy guns. But collateral damage didn’t bother someone who had watched half his peers die from heavy metal poisoning before they even reached adulthood. Born in the 3rd Succession War, Royce wasn’t about to order a massacre of a target with no military value like this clansmen had, but he wasn't going to let him use civvies like a shield either. There would be losses today, but the clansmen had forced him into it, so on his head be it.

He opened up his comms and spoke to his forces, “Alright boys and girls, remember the plan. Stick to cover, let the artillery do its work, and we’ll blow these tanks when the time is right. We know they’ve got heavy lrm batteries in there, and spotters up high we won’t be able to take out. You peek your nose out, and you’re asking to get plastered. We’ll do our own plastering enough, and they’ll come to us to get out from the guns, then we focus them down. Royce out.”

Then he waited for the heat to start pouring in. After more than 20 years, the Marauder’s cockpit was almost his second home, but in a few minutes it was going to feel like a house on fire.
Sgt. Wick stood in front of Colonel Royce with his battle armor visor raised, and a cigarette held up to his mouth. Royce waited for the veteran infantryman to finish his drag and continue his report.

“You were right sir, the explosion that collapsed that street over yonder was Star Colonel Jussi. But it wasn’t a booby trap. After than bastard got loose from Sgt Davenport, he popped down into the tunnels beneath the police station sure enough. We got down in there after him, and found his mech blown to hell and back. It collapsed most of the tunnel. It looks like he set off the self destruct and brought down the entire roof. We think the tunnel should have kept going, but there’s no way past now. If he isn’t dead, he’s lone gone sir. We’ll never find him in the warrens down there, not with a several days head start.”

Royce grimaced and dismissed the sgt. He’d feared something like that when the Star Colonel left his men to fend for themselves, and raced back to the old station. The quake that had shaken everyone in the block had only worsened his fears. Maybe the star colonel was dead, but Royce didn’t think so. Vicious men like that had a habit of surviving and coming back to haunt you. There weren’t really gone till you had their cooling body at your feet. He had all the other clansmen from the fortress at his mercy, but couldn’t help thinking the joker in this deck had gotten away, and wouldn’t stay gone for long.
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