OPERATION FLAMESTRIKE

Control of Flamia Island

The Foiled Plans of MagnaObra

300 POINTS
Ariadna
SonOfPreacherMan
VS PanOceania
Fatal Flaw

“Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I’m fine! The new arm works well and I’ll be damned if i stay in a hospital bed whilst my groupe de combat fights off MagnaObra goons!”
Jaques Leclerc rotated his right arm to ease out the stiffness before shouldering his rocket launcher again, the new right arm having been vat grown and attached the day before by the Tohaa technicians of Naroomba. Sergeant Fiona Dubois’s face was still creased with worry for the rocketeer as she received confirmation from the chasseurs and Moblot of reaching their position, the Moblot in particular having advanced far into the enemy’s lines and was relaying useful information on their strengths and unit composition.
“Roger that, Buvier out” Fiona spoke into her earpiece before turning to Lieutenant Pierre Gusteau, the greying old veteran looking through a battered pair of binoculars to spot any potential ambush spots the foe might use. “Grandpa! Force confirmed for having five fusiliers with a hacker and missile launcher, a magister knight, father knight, and an Orc trooper. No sighting of any TAGs though, seems to be all infantry.”
“Merci, that should make our task a lot easier.” Pierre thanked his second in command before turning to the squad. “Lady and gentlemen, our objective here is to retrieve the medical data from that facility, transmit it back to Naroomba command and to stop these MagnaObra operatives from stealing it for themselves! The enemy consists of mainly Knights with an Orc and Fusilier backup, but most likely that Orc is a MagnaObra operative trying to hide behind a thick layer of steel and tech. Team, move up and take positions on the bridge to cover our advance! Jaques, you’re on point. Fiona? Hang back and take out the Magister knight advancing up the side of the building.”
The briscards nodded and moved out, Fiona taking her position and proceeding to fire high caliber rounds downrange, the Magister knight collapsing with a pair of rounds through his neck and shoulder as the rest of the team cautiously moved up.
Scanning the rooftops, Jaques slowly lead the team across the bridge when he saw a flicker of hazed movement out of the corner of his eye. At once the rocketeer acted out of instinct, letting fly a trio of rockets at the rooftop of a far tower, his initiative rewarded when a sniper round sang past his ear and the distant scream of the Hexas reached his ears, causing Jaques to wince in sympathy.
“Right.” Pierre said to himself, pressing his ear to his commbead. “Briscards in position. Dubois? Lead your team into the building and secure the entrances. Durand? Move up and put pressure on that Orc.”
Pierre recieved a string of acknowledgements as he and the rest of the briscards took pot shots at anyone who tried to stick their heads out of cover, Sergeant Monique Dubois swiftly leading her trio of Chasseurs and accompanying Zouave into the tech center, whirring computer bays and blinking lights greeting them as they set their mines at the doorways for anyone foolish enough to try and enter.
Meanwhile, Moblot Jeanne Durand gripped her rifle tightly and steeled herself before rounding the stack of crates she was hiding behind, the startled fusilier watching the alleyway barely having time to raise the bulky missile launcher before being sent sprawling to the ground by a pair of point blank shotgun blasts. With a curt nod and a bayonet to end his misery, Jeanne took cover against the wall and waited for the next phase of the mission.
“Well done Durand,” Pierre spoke through his commlink as a trio of urangan rocket trails arced over the far side of the complex to land on an unlucky Machinist. “Move around and target the Orc. Douglass? go get the data and head to Transmission node beta. We have a Father knight to take care of-”
“INCOMING!”
The briscards ducked instinctively as The father knight moved up, spraying his spitfire at the veterans whilst a trio of fusiliers followed suit. As one the squad returned fire, the attacking pan-oceanians falling to the combined weight of fire, but not without taking their toll on the defenders. A yelp and a cry of pain saw Jaques and the paramedic fall to the Father knight’s firepower, their unconcious forms removing them from the fight.
Pierre cursed at their foul luck, keeping his eyes peeled when a flicker of movement betrayed the form of a new combatant on the field, the blast of a combi rifle confirming his suspicions. “Buvier, Moreau! Target that Croc man!”
As one the briscards opened fire on the infiltrator, his thermo-optical camoflague saving him as he ducked back behind a wall of the data warehouse he was hiding behind.
“Err…sir?” A voice crackled through on the commbead.
“Oui, Monique?”
“That croc man armed a mine at the entrance of the data warehouse we’re in. We’re unable to move until it’s removed, sir.”
“Douglas here, i can see the bugger!”
The cockney voice of Douglas Douglass, the assigned 112 volunteer crackled through, the emergency servicemen leveling his shotgun at the hastily disguised device before squeezing both triggers, destroying the device in a haze of buckshot and shrapnel. With a satisfactory nod at a job well done, Douglass ducked into the data warehouse, plugging in a data stick into a nearby console before taking it out and continuing on his way.
“Err…merci, Douglas.” Pierre thanked the volunteer, not expecting this of him. “Jeanne? go after that Orc.”
The moblot racked the slide of her underslung shotgun and rounded the corner, targeting the suspected MagnaObra Agent snd sending him stumbling back from the impact of the buckshot before forcing him further into cover with staccato bursts of her rifle.

Sergeant Monique Dubois waited in the corner of the Data warehouse, the shadows hiding her and her squadmates from sight when the unbelievable happened. Driven by a barked order from the Orc, the croc man threw caution to the wind and charged into the room, the mines awaiting at the doorways triggering from the movement and sending clouds of shrapnel and electromagnetic pulses at the daring soldier, the Maori’s armour and equipment managing to resist the entire fusillade before reaching one of the data stacks and beginning to type in various access codes.
“Sainte duponde de merde!” Monique swore under her breath. “Did…did he just..? No matter, Incinerate him!”
As one the chasseurs sprang out of cover and unleashed a torrent of flames at the typing croc man, the maori stopping his attempt to hack into the data network to fire at his sudden assailants, Monique taking a combi rifle round to the shoulder that sent her spinning to the ground.

“Sir!” the moblot’s voice crackled over Pierre’s commbead. “Target has taken cover and is returning fire, but I should be able to-ugh!”
Pierre cursed as Cpl Durand’s link went dead. “Merde! Ivanov, Get your Traktor Mul up the right flank!”
The dozer nodded as he commanded the remote to move up the rightmost flank. The trakor mul rounded the corner and into the street, targeting the Orc and launching a flurry of rockets at the back of the unsuspecting operative. Staggering from the blasts, the Orc turned around to face the advancing artillery remote and sent a spray of rounds downrange, a nearby fusilier doing the same as the Traktor Mul sent another trio of rockets at the Orc and a close by Hospitaller knight. This time the Pan-Oceanians were not so lucky, The heavy rockets shredding their advanced armour and the soldiers within with a series of direct hits before a slug to the optic cluster ended the lumbering behemoth’s rampage.
Pierre nodded with grim satisfaction at the destruction wrought and took in the battlefield, noting the remaining enemy forces and deciding to end it here.
“Bonsoir Pan-Oceanian soldiers!” he shouted over the railing, the 112 having finished transmitting the data and was busy patching up the wounded behind him. “Your commander has been neutralised and you are vastly outnumbered and surrounded. Lower your weapons now and you will be treated lawfully and fairly.” The fusilier sighed and dropped his combi rifle to the ground, raising his hands as the smoking croc man did the same in the data warehouse. “Magnifique. DeNice? Gather up their weapons and escort them back to the landing pad. Everyone else? Prep the wounded for evac. The Tohaa are going to have their hands full tonight.”

Mission played at Hall of Heroes Penrith, NSW.

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Ariadna
SonOfPreacherMan
Wins

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