En cours de chargement...
Nancy Mercenaries have been inserted on the planet Coal to train an army of irregular light infantry to conquer a continent. Or so the briefing had said. As usual, a few details were missing. Some were critical, like the Sothron army getting along fairly well with the Nothron army; both sides treated the war like a sort of friendly sporting event. Nasty local wildlife had not been mentioned. Another significant, not to say blindingly stupid, omission were the guns with which a Local could rarely hit the proverbial barn door-not that any of the Mercs had ever seen a barn door.
Fraking cavalry mounts, genetically altered to be the size of a dray horse with the hide of a rhinoceros, had also gone unmentioned. Unable to stand in the face of a charge by the humungous beasts, the Locals regularly exercised the better part of valor and ran like rabbits. Accustomed to being fed a diet of drek, the Squad took all of it in stride. Snipe was delighted to discover a local version of football.
Holler sniffed out a supply of whisky and other consumables. Scout never said anything and promptly found himself a lover. Coms took up with the Local Liaison Officer, claiming it was part of her duties to communicate. Spotter began fiddling with his unauthorized tech, trying to find a way to hit something-anything- with the local guns. Everybody grumbled, the clothes were scratchy, the food was bland. Ani, Leader of the ten Merc Squad, paid the usual complaints no mind, except for Point's; she feared the truth of his gloomy predictions about getting an army of light infantry out of its nice, safe, defensive positions so they could invade a continent they did not want- Ani wondered who had dreamt up this mission.