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11/16/2015 10:12:43 PM
26
[b][u]The Green Zone Part I: I Walk The Line.[/u][/b]
[b]Grid 968-Bravo, Old North District, The Golden City, Terra.[/b]
Greenspear had registered the Venom contacts the minute they entered the city. Unlike most PMCs, Greenspear's priority on defensive technology, armored transport systems, and infantry-based forces allowed it to monitor everything in a given area, as well as deploying the necessary forces to pacify and fortify the Old North District, which until their arrival had been full of cultist hideouts and raider gangs. The few hard-eyed, besieged free communities that had remained intact after the city's destruction accepted the Greenspear forces' protection with trepidation, but soon re-acclimated to civilian life.
The area outside this gated area was surrounded by a wall of concrete road barriers, watch towers, concertina stacks, and razor wire, which were themselves connected to sparse Forward Operating Bases laid in a staggered pattern just outside the wall. The infantry units assigned to this system of grids were told to call it the "de-militarized zone", but, like its predecessors in Korea, Vietnam, and Berlin, the dusty, dried-out, shell shocked lands gained the ugly moniker of "DMZ."
It was the job of the men and women's stationed there to do two things: watch, and report. All else mattered little. Until the Venom troops or the Imperium arrived, they would do little more than stare at endless fields of rubble and deal with the occasional cultist infiltration force.
But that could change anytime, and when (not if) it happened, Greenspear would be ready.
[spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]
English
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[i]Timothy Sinnick approached the base cautiously, but with a firm front. It was time to put his skills and education to the test.[/i]
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Spotlights are focused on the man. [i]HALT! State your intent or be fired upon![/i] The words are loud, but devoid of emotion. There is the tell-tale [i]rchk-chack[/i] of heavy machine guns being loaded.
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[i]Sinnick obeys, stopping under the blinding lights. He winces, but continues to look inward to the fortress. It was his only hope to look forward to.[/i] "I'm here for an application. You don't know me, but my record speaks for itself." [i]He shouts, hands raised to show he means no harm. [/i]
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The heavy iron gate rolls aside. The lights shut off as Sinnick enters. Inside the wall is a massive encampment, free of rubble and well lit. The majority of the area is a series of inner defensive perimeters, which grow stronger as they move inward. The living quarters of the base seems to be made solely of long, low, bomb-proof barracks, but there are remarkably few. A squad of soldiers in exoskeletal armored suits approach. [i]You here for the applications? The HR office is over there.[/i] The squad leader points to a mobile command trailer, about 30 feet away.
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"Thanks. Timothy Sinnick." [i]He shakes hands with the captain of the company before heading to the HR office. [/i]
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Inside the office is a Greenspear Intelligence Officer. [i]Hello, sir. The name is Everton. I'm a Greenspear Human Resources Officer here in the De-Militarized Zone.[/i] He extends a hand in greeting, but like the other soldiers, he wears full combat gear, with a pistol stowed in a tactical holster on his vest. [i]I apologize for my appearance. We don't have a clear picture of what's going on outside the walls right now, and Operations wants us in full kit until otherwise.[/i]
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[i]Sinnick meets him halfway with a firm shake.[/i] "Well you could always look out the window if you want to see the lay of the land. Timothy Sinnick, pleasure to meet you."
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Everton laughs, momentarily erasing his haggard expression. [i]Alright. I'm sure you're eager to get started. Do you have any prior military experience?[/i]
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"More than you know." [i]The man reaches into the knapsack he slung along his shoulder and pulled out a rather thick and colorful file labeled "Imperium Records" and tossed it gently into the desk. Everton opens the file to a neatly organized record of Sinnick's basic and advanced training in the Astra Militarum, Adeptus Assassinorum, and co-op field work with the Baltic Manticores. His performance tests show he is an expert marksman and covert operator, trained to the highest degree in CQC and various combat styles. He was the highest of his class, and he only spent four months in camp. [/i]
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Everton looks over the file. [i]Alright. Looks good. Any particular mission or duty you want to be assigned to?[/i]
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"Freelance. Assign me where needed. I'm up for anything, but as a default, I'll take any covert ops."
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Everton stamps the form he'd been writing on. [i]It'll take a while. For now, we need men at FOB Dahlquist. The truck heads out in 5 minutes. The motorpool's a block down. Good luck![/i] He shakes Sinnick's hand. [i]Welcome to Greenspear.[/i]
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*A man walks on what appears to be thin air, then waves away the holodeck set into the floor. His golden armor clinks slightly as he strides across the floor to the table, where a small council sits* "And as you can see, even more arrive by the second. We must-" "Must we? Must we simply spend the lives of the men needlessly?" *The armored man focuses his sight on the man at the 11 o'clock seat of the table, sputtering at the oddly dressed man sitting there* "Y-you should not be here." *The rest of the council had turned as well to face the newcomer, all with varying degrees of shock* "Ah, that I should not pay attention when a council of war is called, on my own Flagship? Hardly subtle, I must admit, calling all the council members but me." "Hmph. Fine. We were-" "Yes yes, I know. Trying to figure out what to do to the newcomers. How about we just let the locals handle it? They obviously don't seem too pleased with the intrusion as much as you are. Alright, solution decided." *He gets up, but pauses before a golden gateway that opens before him* "Oh, and I'm docking a year's pay from all of your salary. Have a nice day." *As the golden portal closes behind the scientist, the man in armor sighs* "I told you He would show up. Enjoy your year without pay. I know I won't." *And with that he strides out of the war room, back into the heart of the ship, leaving behind a room of 10 very upset men*
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[i]Nearly a mile away, Blackjack stood atop a roof to the south of this DMZ. His armor's cloaking and dampening systems had been engaged, and as far as any technology they would have could tell, he was totally undetectable. In his hands was his rifle, a heavily modified Barrett M107A1, and he was looking downrange. Sighted in, he observed this fortress with dissatisfaction. Then he made a call, with his helmet's built-in comms unit. Totally encrypted, he established a connection to Agent Crow, who was much closer to the facility, roughly 400 meters out, his dampening systems engaged as well.[/i] Crow, you reading this? Bastards have a fortress here. [i]From the other end, came a reply.[/i] Aye, I noticed. Looks like they're entrenching. That's not entrenching. That's fortifying a staging ground. Make a call to Grizzly, let him know what we got. I'm gonna make a call to the Imperium, let them know we've got trouble. Aye, General. [i]With that, the transmission disconnected, and Blackjack continued to watch the base from afar. Crow remained in closer, and made his call.[/i] Grizzly, we've got a problem. [i]The response this time came from a burly Russian.[/i] Dah? What is it? Bloody Greenspear's got an FOB staging ground out here to the north, fully fortified. Blackjack and I are outside, scouting perimeter. Hold the column back for now. Blackjack said he'd be making a call to the Imperials. [i]A sigh of annoyance came from the other end.[/i] Understood. We'll converge to a position about a mile outside of their camp. I was given orders to keep them from moving any further into the city. Aye, mate. We'll keep you informed. Thank you, comrade. [i]With that, the transmission ended.[/i]
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The Greenspear Intelligence officers across the way recorded the telltale buzz of encrypted radio traffic and, like every past Venom exchange, sent them forward via satellite relay to Sherwood for logging. They didn't need to decrypt the messages. Venom Incorporated moved like a rhinoceros defending its territory, purposefully and with a touch of the theatric. The company's unofficial slogan came to mind: [i]The hand on the spear is also the hand on the spade.[/i]
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[i]Remaining in position, Crow and Blackjack both monitored the activities of this base. Both men were recording their HUD footage to be sent back to their base as well as to the Imperium. Blackjack and Crow had both figured that the Imperials wouldn't be happy that this group was staging on their land without any prior agreements. Roughly an hour later, the armored columns that had been sweeping the city for hostiles were now only a mile outside of the fortification, all in a hunkered-down offensive position. None of them moved, however, and soon, many of Venom's soldiers began to fortify the armored emplacements, using rubble to not only conceal, but entrench themselves. Within the span of about five hours, the entire group of divisions was hunkered down, and waiting for resupply and long-range artillery.[/i]
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The Greenspear patrols seem not to have changed, save for distant, regular flashes of light emitting from a few FOBs. A pair of furled flags are run up a post along the center of the wall. The wind picks up, and the top flag is revealed to be the Stars And Stripes of the United States. Hung just below it is a black banner with an un-ornamented green spearpoint in its center. Spotlights snap on, illuminating the flags in the dusk, and the Hendrix version of [i]The Star-Spangled Banner[/i] begins to play. The sound is brash and defiant, and echoes against the rubble. The song is heard for miles around, its unfamiliar strains startling animals and the occasional cultist. It ends, and the lights shut off.
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[spoiler]Actually, Crow is right. It's just a fortress. Greenspear's not planning on going anywhere; after all, everywhere past the DMZ is Imperial land.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]The entire city is Imperial land and my land by agreement. If you're in the city, you're technically occupying their land. After the war with the Harbinger, most of the city had been recaptured by myself and the Imperials.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Right, but Old North was uncaptured. So Greenspear moved in. Think of them as Atlas with a focus on defense and altruism, but without the war crimes and the insane Kevin Spacey.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]I'm pretty sure the Imperials themselves took the North. I've also been staging airstrikes throughout the city. Regardless of it being taken back, in technicality, it's their city, and mine to defend under treaty. You're occupying sovereign territory which is a logical pretext for war.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Sure. I'm aware. I just don't plan on fighting.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Whether you plan on it or not, you're going to get it eventually. You're on their land. You're in my territory. Either back out of the city or you will be attacked. It's that simple.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]I don't feel like backing out. I'm here to help, and therefore here to stay.[/spoiler]
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[spoiler]Don't say you weren't warned when all hell comes knocking at your door. [/spoiler]
