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Jack came to with a start, struggling under a tangle of tubing and restraints. His body was numb, and through the oxygen mask strapped to his face, he could see only blurs of shapes. Someone walked over to him, laying a restraining hand on his shoulder. The words they spoke seemed distant and distorted. Jack couldn't make sense of them. Relaxing, he lay back down. With great difficulty through the veil of numbing painkillers, Jack tried to remember why he was here. With a jolt, his last memory came slamming back into his mind. Looking up from the ground as a massive Drathonian laughed heartily over his body. Despite the difficulty he had making a coherent thought, Jack felt his face grow warm with rage. He had been beaten by a lizard. The very thought of it made him sick. Presently, the nurse returned to his side, this time poking a small syringe into his shoulder. His thought drifted away from him, lost in the cloud of bliss that was being injected into him. He suddenly felt tired, and with a short yawn, he fell back into an uneasy sleep.

Garrett nodded and folded his arms over his chest. At the thought of speaking to their new Admiral again, Garrett's smile returned. That woman sure knew how to please a fighting man (taking into account that she's synthetic and only slightly physically attractive [to Garrett]). He was actually eager to head up to the bridge and see what she had in store for them all. Surely it was the next set of plans and maneuvers; Captain Hendlow could only hope there was some more "work" involving his particular set of skills.

Before long, Kai returned, decked out in his usual wear. "Well, I suppose we should make our way to the bridge, then. I'm sure it's something important." he signed himself out officially and walke ddown the hallway, towards the nearest elevator, so he could get to the proper floor.

Before long, the two marine captains were at the bridge, surrounded by the other captains aboard the ship, and the ships avatar and commander, Evelyn. Almost as soon as the two arrived, she began speaking, relaying orders from high command. They were to join in the second wave of the assault on the planet below. The lizards were dug in and their base was too valuable to simply glass, and so a stalemate had been drawn with the first wave. reports were also coming in that the original number of enemies had been miscounted, and that the ground forces were being assaulted on all sides, formed into pockets, and making further stalemates. Wave two's job was to go in, flank the drathonians, and re-form the min force to attempt another assault on the fortress. by that time, a third wave would be ready to mop up any leftovers outside the wall, but, due to the importance of the planet, conventional means were needed to win, not just a huge nuke, as they had dropped on their enemie's home planet.

***

Within one hour, several troop transports had docked with the Hymn, and were taking on marines, a small contingent left behind to guard the ship. Kai's and Garret's squads would, naturally, be spearheading the assault. Jack had been folded into Garret's squad, and steven would be leading a group of shamshir's in close air support.

Chapter 3: Up From the Ashes

Red alerts began blaring as the troop transports Disconnected from the Hymn, and in a few minutes, a rumbling could be felt and heard as the spacecraft re-entered the atmosphere, from the ground they appeared like two fireballs descending upon the planet in wrath. These fireballs were soon met with artillery fire, and began duking and dodging, attempting to not get hit, thrashing the soldiers inside around. After a seemimgly long 30 seconds, the ships descended to tree level, and found a clearing to land in. As soon as they were down, a hail of gunfire from the trees greeted them, and was answered with suppressing fire from the transports' defensive weapons, silencing most as the drathonians ran to regroup. Inside, officers were yelling at soldiers, gettting them grouped and ready to go, as the bay doors on all sides lowered, creating a ramp for soldiers, tanks and other fighting vehicles to descend to the surface on. In ten seconds, the transports were empty, the doors coming up, and the engines spooling, waiting for their previous cargo to get safely far enough away for them to launch. For the Hymn's marines, the ground war had begun.

Captain Hendlow stood in one of the transports looking solemn. The smoke slowly swirling from the tip of cigarette only added to the cinematic effect. And much like one would expect, his mind was elsewhere: namely, the upcoming battle. They were going planetside. That meant explosives would require entirely different applications. While he had once worked on a planet, he was not accustomed to it. His load-out was the best he could think of, but he still worried that there was some situation for which he had not accounted. He couldn't worry over it all day, however, so he had forced himself to toss the backpack full of dangerous gear beneath one of the restraining seats.

And there was more to it. Although he had been a Captain for quite some time, never before had he been requested to command a squad. Now they were pushing onto him the responsibility of the lives of others. Jack was on the roster along with eight others: a team of ten. Still, one familiar face was not consolation enough. The others were all green, having been recruited only in the last year. Only four of them had participated in a battle previously, and only one of those four had experienced another before that. Two of the four, including the "veteran," had experienced the loss of body parts. That was something of a relief. They knew what to expect. Still, four of his ten-man team knew nothing of battle.

He sighed as the cigarette burned out and tossed it in a small bin. He could hear the steady plodding of boots: his team was on its way.

Twenty minutes later, he was sitting in a restraint chair, the harness hugging him with a death snare. A few quiet murmurs and moans could be heard: Hendlow wondered why they ever thought it okay to recruit men prone to motion sickness. As the thought finished, he heard someone's stomach give way, and watched the noon lunch float by to his left. Slowly, he shook his head.

Five minutes later, they were on the ground, and the hatches were opening. He slung on his backpack, buckled it, and snatched up a bro on his way out the back. "Get cover, keep your head down, and wait for further commands!"

Game on.

Hendlow was crouching behind a portable, makeshift metal barrier with room for five; six if you were looking for a few good men to take with you when the grenade rolls by. Currently, though, he and Jack were the only ones. He glanced only briefly at the sound of laughter. Jack hadn't been quite himself since they landed, and he didn't think too much of it at the moment. He sighed and sat on his heels, back to the barrier.

The area was rather bland; they were in the midst of an open plain. To their back was a series of rocky hills, smothered with Terran snipers. Ahead of them were thick forests of lush greens and reds and other vibrant colors not typically found on Earthen flora. That's where the Drathonians were coming from, and they had managed to dig in some ditches in the plains, but they hadn't made much ground since. The Terrans were repelling attackers quite well, and the higher levels of command had their own series of ditches near the base of the hills, a low-profile ops center.

Garrett glanced at Jack again. The man was far gone. He sighed and tapped his extremely small earpiece. He spoke quietly. "Can anyone hear me?" He received seven replies. "Who are we missing?"

Bad news already. The private whom had seen two previous battles had lost his head to a Drathonian sniper rifle. So much for that "veteran" status. Hendlow sighed for a third time. "Status and location," he asked his men. Slowly, and according to alphabetical order, each responded, giving good reports on their personal health and their locations relative to Hendlow's.

"Good, good," he murmured to no one in particular. There was a pause for a few seconds as he began planning. "Griever, Kwon, you're left pincer. Harvard, Rutthinger, you're right pincer. The rest of us will be providing cover fire until you're in position. Then we'll move up the center, and blow the hell out of those Drathonians attempting to set up barricades."

The plan was for a two-man team on either side to pin the Drathonian "engineers," if they could be called that, in the foxhole they'd dug out. Then, with them unable to return fire, the remainder of Hendlow's team could come up the middle and lay waste to them.

"In posit-- AGH! Goddamnit!" It was Griever. Kwon spoke next.

"He took a shot to the thigh. Nothing too serious." Kwon was as calm as ever; that was his truly redeeming quality. Then there was a faintly audible click; Kwon had activated Griever's EMR (Emergency Medical Requisition), or "doctor!", signal on his vest.

"Guttemeier, I want you up left with Kwon. Griever will be covering from hereon." He received two positive responses. Everyone was in line, and Hendlow was pleased thus far with his team.

Still on board the Hymn, Steven and the other pilots stood around chewing the butts of spent cigarettes as they anxiously waited. Finally, a voice came on over the loud speaker giving the group the signal they had been expecting. "Alright! You all heard that, so get to your bombers!" Steven shouted to the pilots, whom were scrambling to there ship even before Steven spoke. Making sure everyone was in, Steven went to his own shamshir and got on board.
Green One was already in the gunner seat when Steven sat in the pilot seat. "So, do you think this thing will hold up when we get out there?" the man asked jokingly.
"We will just have to wait and see, now wont we?" Steven joked in reply. But he then quickly turned his attention to downloading the target coordinates on to the NAV computer, and once that was finished he transmitted the same coordinates to the other pilots.
"System check. This is squadron leader Steven Kerning. Blink if you read me," he said over the squad comm channel. Six pilot confirmation lights winked to life on his HUD. "Get ready for launch."
After a few moments of silence the seven shamshirs shot out of the hanger.