"All Foxtrot units," you say over the circuit with as much cool professionalism as you can muster, "our objective is target one-seven. It's the main building in a farm just over that outcrop ahead of us bearing two-two-zero. We'll advance to the outcrop in line abreast. Move out."
All around you, troopers rise to their feet and begin walking forward in the grass, rifles pointed forward, eyes scanning for threats. They're veterans, you can tell, and yet you're apparently in command of them. You hear a rush behind you as the final drop ship lifts off, and you steal a glance at the surrounding countryside, where the other four platoons of your troops are each moving toward their own objectives.
You step forward, getting used to the subtle difference in weight between the training armor you're used to and this combat-ready suit. It hugs your body, with overlapping plates snug against your torso and limbs. Colored an olive shade of green for today's drop, these plates are apparently capable of stopping direct fire—assuming the rebels don't have explosive rounds.
A small tactical display is mounted on the left forearm of your armor. You glance at it quickly, getting your bearings with the markers on the display and the real landmarks dotting the landscape around you. The drop ship is clearing to the south, and you watch its blue symbol track away on the screen.
One of the troopers approaches you, his heavy armor clicking with each step. At least, you think it's a "he"—it can be hard to tell with these helmets on.
"We have the heavy weapons dispersed between all five squads, sir. We can lay down covering fire from multiple angles if required."