Homecoming

Dropship “Audacity”

Currently in orbit above Ver Sayles

7/7/-1

Remy Duciel sat in the navigator’s seat of the Audacity, a rare trip to the bridge for the mercenary commander.  The whole company knew that he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see this through the helmsman’s eyes directly.

“There it is, Irregulars. Home.”

His voice rang clear over the comms system, reaching the entire crew.  The reverence in Duciel’s voice was a sharp contrast to his normal underlying sarcasm, and a collective eyebrow was raised by every one of the Allegheny Irregulars.  They all turned their attention to the various displays and viewing ports as their next target came into view.  The snow-capped poles spread into a frozen expanse that extended nearly halfway to the equator on either side.  This extension of whitened terrain, however, only served to emphasize the vibrant greens and blues of the more temperate regions.  Tendrils of boreal forest stretched into the tundra regions from the Alleghe Wilds, and the plains and prairies of the Flats and Midlands crashed into those same frigid zones, as if the planet itself was constantly fighting back against the frigid void of space that still gripped it at either end.  The mountains of the Talons and the scarred network of canyons and crannies of Duquesne's Fate punctuated the vibrant regions with their sharp features, presenting a picturesque scene on the mercenary company's approach.

“Commander, it seems pretty abandoned… are you sure people haven’t just left?”

First Sergeant Sammy “Squibbles” Veomutha nervously chimed in over the comms. He was confused at the apparent lack of civilization looming before them, but didn’t want to draw Remy’s ire suggesting his homeworld had been abandoned.  To his relief, the commander replied with a chuckle.

“Oh, they’re here.  They’re just hard to spot.  It’s a world of hills and hollows, Sergeant.  We built into the land, not over it, why ruin good wilderness?”

Lieutenant Colonel Kreiya Marsden surveyed the ship’s scanners, keeping vigil for any incoming hostiles.  To her surprise, things had been calm since their arrival in orbit.

“It’s almost like they don’t care to know if we’re here or not, Colonel Duciel.  Any theories?”

“Well, my darling Kreiya…”

“Can it, Remy. I asked for your opinion, not your bullshit.”

“Fair and noted, you ornery hag.  Anyway, as I was saying… these wolves are lazy, Kreiya.  We’re so far behind their lines we can’t possibly pose a threat.  They probably take us for smugglers.  They’re not wrong, but that part comes later.  For now, we just need a quiet place to set down.”

A brief but quite pensive silence was interrupted by the Irregulars’ newest officer. Second Lieutenant Duskaryen Sylvanwood was a former enemy soldier taken as a POW by Remy alongside the rest of her squad.  Having been left behind by their own unit, she and her four comrades agreed to fight with Remy and the Irregulars, and in the process, Dusk earned a commission and the five former adversaries became free members of the company.  Now an equal, she voiced her concerns to her commanding officer.

“If we land, we won’t be able to regain orbit without one hell of a fight.  Are you sure this is our best option, Remy?”

“I’ve considered this, Dusk. But for our long term plans to work out, we need to be planetside.  Otherwise, when we become enough of a nuisance, they’ll just blast us out of orbit.”

“Aye, Colonel Duciel.  It seems we have two unappealing options to choose from.  I trust that you have more experience than I do when it comes to choosing unappealing options.”

As the Audacity began its entry into the atmosphere of Ver Sayles, Remy directed his dropship pilot by memory.  “A little to the left here, a bit further right there,” and one shifty direction after the next, until a small clearing in the wooded hills opened up in the sea of leafy canopies.  As the pilot engaged the landing gear and gingerly set down the massive craft, Remy Duciel leapt from his chair and sprinted for the hangar, and a route outside. He ran directly into Major Serah Ancilar in his journey, and the force of the impact sent him sprawling backwards and drew an irritated grunt from the woman.

“Don’t make me tell your wife you’re taking passes at me, Remy,” she responded with a feigned sultry tone. “Clearly, you couldn’t handle me anyway.”  Ancilar offered Remy her hand, and he took it without even an attempt at a retort. “You must be really happy to be here, Remy.  You’re not even talking shit.” She patted him on the shoulder reassuringly as she sent him back on his journey to touch grass. “We’re here, man.  You’re home, we’re home, and we’re staying.  Don’t die trying to get outside.”

Continuing his journey, Remy finally reached the hangar.  He didn’t even stop to admire Azrael, his personal mech.  Newly refit and ready for action, it mounted a pair of missile launchers in its left shoulder, a pair of particle cannons split between the forearms, and a short-barreled artillery piece, "for the audacity." He had managed to tune the particle cannons to effectively paint their targets for artillery fire control, and creative usage of guided munitions gave the Irregulars an unexpected punch on the battlefield.  The rest of the company was well-equipped with artillery and target designation devices as well, making sure to provide Remy and Azrael with ample opportunity to support his Irregulars.  At the moment, however, Remy didn’t need forty tons of fusion-powered firepower to venture forth from the hangar.  As the blast doors on both sides of the Audacity’s hull retracted into their housings, Remy leapt from the gap opened in the wall near Azrael’s massive feet.  A screamed expletive could be heard, as the three meter drop left the commander with a sprained ankle.  Several moments later, he was greeted by Kreiya, clearly red in the face from laughter, peeking a grinning head out from the open hangar door.

“A fitting return home for Remy Duciel, isn’t it?”