Into The Rift

Lethal Force Projection (48)

I exchange glances between my two companions, intending to receive their inputs, if they have any to provide.

"We survived that god awful ambush in Ethiopia, we can handle whatever they've got," Robert answers, voice lacking a definitive edge. "Or at least, I hope so. They're dumb enough to leave their air assets defenseless."

I roll my eyes, finding that jab at the Euralians and reference to the mishap in Bahir Dar out of place. The latter only serves to bring back bad memories. Not the kind of input I would classify as particularly encouraging.

Going back to the general idea, I sink my eyes back onto the dim outline of a lone prefab building located at the northern tip of Tartarus. It was the closest defensible position, and the most optimal point to start pressuring the opposing force from a safe distance.

The large stretch of open terrain between it and the rest of the compound will work in our favor. In the few seconds I had to analyze other possible courses of action, they all led back to this. This is the best option available. Even if it isn't exactly ideal, it is what we have to work with.

"Armory, it's only a short hike down to it. It will give us a good field of view as they approach. Odds are, we'll be looking at a frontal engagement. Doesn't look like they're routing additional forces to our sides for a pincer," I explain, urging the two on their feet.

"I'm taking point," Douglas says, sounding less of an comment and more of a declaration. He strides to the front, several metres ahead of me.

"Taking point, got it," I echo his words in agreement, seeing him take the position.

Robert comes in over local communications. "Drone feeds are good, all sectors clear. No banshees over our heads for now," he confirms, assuming the rear position behind me.

I look in his direction, answering in kind, "Hit us up on comms if that changes."

He nods, "Will do, wait a few." The Signals' Specialist rifles through his pouches, deft hands selecting an interface and inputting a series of taps in quick succession.

"Done. I've prepped the drones to signal me if anything unidentified flies over Tartarus airspace. We're good to go," Robert sounds off through his helmet, giving Douglas the green light to proceed.

I turn around, coiling my legs in anticipation to move off. The hot waves rolls across my skin, flushing out to the extremities and keeping my nerves consolidated. Echoing with increased vigor, the muted flush of blood runs through my ears as I wait for the silence to be broken.

"Alright, on me." Douglas breaks the stalemate and leads off, setting a hard pace down the forested hills.

I decide my best role will be to provide left side coverage along with the occasional sweep of the rear every twenty seconds or so. Blades of fine grass rolled across the mountainous landscape in soft waves, producing the visual infractions that kept my eyes on a constant swivel.

Nature's domineering presence made sure there were plenty of places for enemies to hide in. There might be an enemy observer in the midst, and the visor's thermal overlays would be none the wiser.

Each new step represented danger, a gleaming opportunity to spring an ambush. While the Euralians were different on a genetic and physiological level, some things were bound to be universal no matter the circumstances.

"Watch for blips in movement, could be someone out there," I call out over comms, registering a heightened sense of alert.

The fireteam assembles into a partial wedge maintaining our tactical spacing as we enter familiar territory, crossing onto the single road leading up to our destination. No ambush along the entire route, I considered that a blessing.