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As he thought of comrades, Samuel’s gaze fell upon the other people in the combat speeder. In addition to Squad Taggart there were three elite troopers who perched in the onboard launch tubes. They were members of the Folken, a mercenary force contracted by Grotto to lead the assault on RLC5611.

While the Reapers were capable soldiers, they were not explicitly armed or trained for front line combat duty against Alpha class opposing forces. Reapers were qualified to engage Charlie class enemies such as squatters and unclassified hostiles in addition to Beta class enemies such as space pirates.

Most corporate security forces were considered Alpha class enemies, along with elite troopers and armored divisions. The Helion battle force that had occupied the colony consisted of all three sorts of Alpha class threats.

Grotto had issued a rapid response contract to known merc units in the sector. Within forty-eight hours the Folken elites arrived along with their own small compliment of combat speeders and one especially intimidating battle tank. The three elites were wearing armored dropsuits, which in addition to being resistant to most small arms fire had built-in gravity dampeners that would allow them to break their fall from extreme heights.

The launch tubes in the combat speeder were designed to catapult the troopers into the air across enemy lines. With the gravity-dampeners, the elites could descend into the thick of the enemy position and be combat capable instantly.

Two of them were armed with what Samuel knew to be rail guns, very expensive and devastating weapons that fired high velocity projectiles capable of shredding most infantry armor.

The third warrior, a giant of a man who wore a much heavier dropsuit that was no doubt even more potently armored, carried a multi-barreled machine gun that made Ben Takeda’s heavy gun look comically inadequate.

The faceplates on the helmets the two rail gunners were molded into masks that looked like snarling beasts of some kind, giving them an otherworldly look. The heavy gunner’s face was obscured by a grinning maw of three dimensional teeth as well as having what looked to be horns grafted to the sides of his helmet.

One of the beast-masks turned his head to Samuel, as if he’d noticed the additional scrutiny, that or the sound of yet another approaching combat speeder. There were now three at the mouth of the ravine, each carrying three elites and a squad of Reapers from Tango Platoon.

The valley had several more such ravine entrances and other combat speeders were filling them as well, all careful to remain under cover and arriving one at a time to avoid warning the enemy of the impending assault. Once the attack had begun, a helo-craft would air drop the battle tank directly into the thick of the fighting, to further increase the shock factor and give the enemy something harder to shoot at while the lighter combat speeders delivered their soldiers into the fight.

The soldier returned Samuel’s gaze for a moment, then his voice crackled through the com-bead in the marine’s ear.

“You are, Reaper Hyst Samgir, of Platoon Tango, are you not?” asked the beast-mask, breaking the silence that had dominated the inside of the combat speeder ever since the two groups of soldiers joined each other inside.

“Roger, Samuel Hyst, REAPER, Platoon Tango,” responded Samuel, keeping his tone formally neutral, as he was unsure of how to properly address an independent contractor.

The beast-mask inclined his head and said, “Forgive my speaking, Reaper Hyst Samgir, there are elements of your Grotto speech that are difficult to properly form with this Errolite tongue. I mean no offense.”

Samuel involuntarily sucked in his breath at the realization that the mercenary was Errolite. The planet of Errol was nestled deep within Augur space, a corporation renowned for its technological advancements. Augur’s chief exports were the multitudes of technological components that helped many of the machines in the universe operate.

While they did not hold a universe wide monopoly as a tech firm, they did control a large portion of business in the tech industry. Their secondary export was military units from the planet Errol. The Errolites were a tribal people, who, while having access to much of the contemporary technology of the age somehow still maintained a tribal society.

Errol was part of the Augur Corporation, though, unlike corporations such as Grotto or Helion that had somewhat homogenous internal cultures, the Augur Corporation consisted of many cultures. Augur’s official stance was that multi-culturalism bred innovation. Though most other corporations disagreed with this sort of approach, the products created by Augur were of considerable quality and very advanced in nature, so their system seemed to work.

Augur’s primary security forces were recruited from all across Augur space. Thanks to the warrior Errolite culture, the Augur military was staffed with many Errolite soldiers. They were too few to upset the balance of the universe by making Augur’s military intrinsically stronger than other corporations, but the Errolite prowess in battle was common knowledge. Though most warriors of Errol fought under the Augur banner, there were some who still chose the life of an independent mercenary, contracting through the mercenary guild called the Merchants Militant. Such warriors fetched high prices, and from the stories told about them, it was apparent that they earned those wages.

Mag turned her head towards Samuel and kicked his boot, snapping Samuel out of his awe and reminding him of the present moment.

“No offense given,” he replied sheepishly.

“Wargir, you must forgive Hyst for his curiosity, the Reapers are carrion birds, and we are not accustomed to front line duty, much less being in the presence of independent elites,” said Mag in a voice heavy with formality. Samuel knew ‘wargir’ to be Errol slang for mercenary.

“Taggart Magir, if we are to fight and die together I would disperse the notion of your soldiers that we are anything but human beings underneath this armor, despite appearances to the contrary,” said the wargir with a palpable mirth in his voice. “Our employers have determined that we elites inflict far too much collateral damage and must be given guidance by Reapers, so as to reign us in. To my thinking that makes us equals in this endeavor.”

“Sounds good to me. I hate formalities anyway,” said Mag as she leaned back in her seat. “These marines are a good bunch, just keep an eye on them while you’re out there kicking ass, and you’ll get an idea of what not to blast. We both know that things happen in the thick of the fight, and it’s likely that the Reapers will fall behind your advance. So my advice is if it looks expensive, try to avoid destroying it.”

“You are a very forward speaker, Taggart Magir, it is appreciated. Our employability rests in our ability to execute in accordance with our contractual specifications, so you may trust that we have been briefed on the technical elements of the mission, though as you’ve said, things happen in the midst of battle, and we are prepared to submit to your judgment should the occasion arise,” spoke the wargir as he settled back into his launcher tube.

“Well, we’re gonna get along just fine,” said Mag as the warning klaxon rang and the lights in the speeder cabin went red to indicate that the assault was seconds from beginning, “Okay, marines, it’s time to earn our hazard pay.”

This is the job!” called out five Reaper voices through the com-bead as the combat speeder engaged its thrusters.

Over a dozen combat speeders ignited, filling the valley with the roaring sound of their engines. Samuel could see below that the Helion forces had erected several mobile hardpoints that looked to be made of stacked drop-containers with hasty fighting positions dug into the ground so that infantry units could cover multiple angles.