The blaring of alarms echoed through the packed mess hall, sending soldiers scrambling in all directions.
"Urgh... just my luck," Sergeant Leonard Vallum groaned, spoon inches from his mouth. "This better not be a drill."
His plate was full of a thick brown substance, a substance that he had long forgotten what it was made from, some questions were better left unsaid. The soldiers in camp just called it sloop, which was as accurate a description as any.
Leonard sighed, quickly standing to his feet, food discarded to join the rush of soldiers and servicemen filling out of the hall. The scene outside was chaotic,the tall thick walls that circled the base lined with massive gun emplacements were firing non-stop, launching powerful shells into the distance. While rows upon rows of tanks slowly rumbled to life, thick clouds of smoke billowing from their rusted exhausts. All hands on deck it seemed.
Leonard quickly discarded his idle musings about the situation and kicked into high gear, sprinting across parade grounds towards a large hangar in the distance, its doors open wide. The comm unit on his wrist beeped, orders arriving from high command.
"Sergeant Vallum," his commanding officer's holographic image appeared before him, his military communications unit projecting it into the air. "A swarm lord has breached the naval blockade, the enemy forces on the ground are going berserk. Link up with 2nd and 3rd squad and defend sector B-24."
"Shit" Leonard cursed to himself. Sector B-24 always faced the brunt of any attack, a narrow valley complex between tall rugged cliffs that served as a natural chokepoint into the flat desert plains beyond. Its importance couldn't be understated, and both sides knew this, so it served as the bloodiest conflict zone in the war. "Will we be expecting reinforcements sir?"
The projection shook his head. "You will not. High Command in all its wisdom has decided its forces are best used elsewhere. You will be on your own."
Typical, High Command was a bunch of cowards in Leonard's, and many others from his squads, opinion, a group of fat cowardly bureaucrats who cared more about their own appearances than the war on their doorstep. They would rather pull forces away to protect themselves than assign them in places of actual use. Not that he would ever express that aloud of course.
"What ground forces are in position sir?"
"Just PDF im afraid, 3 infantry divisions alongside one artillery regiment". His commander shook his head, PDF forces were a semi professional Planetary Defence Force, conscripts trained to defend their homeland. While usually moderately trained, and numerous enough to deal substantial damage, years of conflict had whitled them down to nothing but fresh conscripts pulled from factories and farms with less than one week of training. They were bodies for the meat grinder, not much more.
Leonard on the other hand hailed from the military, or more specifically the Mech Corps, which pulled its forces from across the entire nation of Bastion, shaping them into a professional hardened force which deployed all across the nation's borders and various star systems. Raised in a heavily militarised house himself, The Vallum estate, a home to some of Bastion's most powerful and decorated mech pilots, Leonard was groomed for war the day he could walk.
This was to say, the difference between him and a member of the PDF was akin to a great chasm. He couldn't expect much help from the PDF forces, and so it seemed he was on his own.
The hologram flickered out and Leonard quickly reached the open hanger doors. Inside stood his weapons of war, 10 towering mechs. Sadly however, the days where they glimmered and shined in the sun were long gone. The war had done a number on these machines. Instead, they looked ready to fall apart in a strong gust of wind, held together with only hopes and dreams, alongside a healthy amount of makeshift repairs with whatever parts could be found.
Technicians buzzed about the hangar, preparing the mechs for combat. Large fuel hoses and belts of ammunition were being constantly pumped into each mech, while last minute repairs and alterations were being hastily completed.
"Sergeant Vallum" One of them saluted, the symbol for chief technician adorning his chest, "All 10 mechs will be ready in 3 minutes. However we are having issues with Corporal Becker's mech sir".
He was a short stocky man, his black hair stained with grease and his full beard fared no better. He was dressed much the same as all the other technicians in the hanger, a set of blue overalls overtop of a not so white shirt. Once upon a time it was white, however, much like the mechs, everything had been heavily worn down during their time her.
"What issues?" Leonard frowned, quickly stepping into a green lightly armoured power suit positioned to the side of his mech. The flexible metal skeleton sewn throughout needed to help any pilot withstand the immense pressure and g-forces exerted when operating a mech.
"Well we've been fixing the left leg damaged in the last engagement, and while it's fully functional now, we haven't been able to re-attach all of the armour plating".
Leonard glanced over at the mech in question. The tall humanoid mech had seen better days, its armour chipped and dented in various places. However the most glaring issue was its left leg, no armour was attached at all, its internal wiring and frame completely exposed to the outside world.
It didn't take an expert to figure out the problem.
"You fucking idiots!" Corporal Becker screamed at a technician. "Where the fuck is my babies armour!? You expect me to fight the swarm naked!?"
Corporal Sarah Becker had been with Leonard since their time in basic training, being deployed to the world of Adamin 2 alongside him. She had a tall and lithe figure in her slightly baggy uniform, however underneath she was as hardened and muscular as the men she fought alongside.
Her short black hair bobbed as she berated the helpless mechanic, finger pressed into his chest forcing him back against her Mechs frame.
Leonard shook his head, the good Corporal Becker was as fair as ever, though he could hardly blame her.
"Corporal Becker'' he called out, "Take it easy, we'll get that armour replaced as soon as possible, but right now it's all hands on deck. I'm afraid it'll just have to do."
Becker glanced at Leonard, her anger slowly subsiding. "Damn it Leonard, this is the third time this month they've messed with my mech. I'm sick of these half-assed repairs."
"I know it's frustrating," Leonard replied sympathetically, the war was taking its toll on everyone. "But right now, we don't have time to dwell on it. A swarm Lord has breached through our naval blockade and made planet fall, our lines will be overrun in minutes without support."
With a deep sigh, Becker nodded, her gaze shifting to her exposed mech. "Alright, fine. But you best get my baby fixed up as soon as we get back! And I want upgrades as well! Wasn't there a new shipment of CX-43 rifles? I want one."
"I'll see what I can do Corporal" Leonard sighed before turning his attention to his squadron quickly gathering before him. "Alright men, today we drew the short straw. We are to link together with the 2nd and 3rd squad at sector B-21 before joining the fight at sector B-24."
A series of groans and complaints followed as the men learned of their posting, but Leonard already expected this response and chose to ignore it. B-24 was a cursed posting, or at least that's what everyone thought.
"This is going to be a tough fight sir" Corporal Arming spoke up, a grizzled older veteran pilot with the scars to prove it. "Last time a Swarm Lord made landfall it easily broke through all our defences."
"Pah! What, are you scared old man?" Corporal Gaits quipped, a new service man coming in the same batch as Leonard and Corporal Becker. A young blonde pilot of noble blood, Gaits was a throne in his side, however his family name let him get away with a lot. "That only happened because there was only useless PDF here. My stallion here will pierce through this oversized bug before you even realise."
Arming grumbled under his breath, something about younglings and not knowing the truth. Leonard shook his head, disputes like this were commonplace, he would've thought two and a half years of war would open Gaits' eyes, but his head was probably so far up his own ass to realise.
"Alright enough grumbling, get in your mechs and prepare to roll out."
Leonard watched as his squad members climbed into their respective mechs, the dull thuds of metal against metal echoing through the hangar. Each mech had its own battle scars, evidence of countless engagements against overwhelming Swarm forces. They were battered and worn, but they still stood strong, the symbol of the Iron Knights Mechanised Division proudly adorning their chests.
Leonard climbed into his own mech, a small step attached to a wire pulling him up to its open cockpit. He slid into his seat, flicking a couple buttons and letting its iron frame close around him. The console before him sprung to life, a view from the outside projected from various cameras and sensors, his mechs diagnostics and status, energy readings and ammunition counts. As well as a list of all mechs under his command displayed neatly beside a combat map.
He gripped the controls hard. Two and a half years this war had dragged on, Adamin 2 faring much better than its predecessor Adamin 1, who fell to the Swarm horde in a matter of weeks. However for Leonards first deployment, it was a bloody and shocking baptism of war.
He had long since become disillusioned with his childish adoration for war, the elders back home always told him such a day would come, but he thought himself special. Now he was nothing more than a dot on a map, his fate being tied to wherever high command decided to place him.
"Alright, everyone ready?" he called out over the comm channel, shaking any useless thoughts from his mind.
One by one, his squad members responded, every mech in the hanger coming to life.
"Then lets move out"
The mechs thundered out of the hangar, their heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath them. They trudged through the base and out of a pair of large heavily reinforced gates, the walls on either side lined with soldiers and gun emplacements. The war would never make it this far back behind the frontlines, at least he hoped, so the forces here were going to waste. But the men upstairs made their decision, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
The lands beyond the walls were barren, a large expanse of dirt, baked hard and cracked under the constant and brutal assault of the sun overhead. They fell into line next to a railway towards their destination, following beside a large train filled with fresh soldiers being transported to the front. They stared out the windows at them in awe, Mech pilots were celebrities nowadays, everyone wanted to be one but not everyone had the tallent.
They quickly reached a crossroads and the train veered off one way, while they took the other. The sound of gunfire from the frontlines was audible now, the faint rumblings of long distance artillery impacting the ground, alongside the roar of gun emplacements closer to the front. The fighting had not yet started in earnest, however the ground shaking roars of artillery had already begun, trying their best to soften up any advancing threat as best they could.
As they neared their destination, communication from 2nd and 3rd squads crackled through Leonard's mech's comm unit. And much to his dismay, their squad's situation was no less dire than Leonards. Squad 2 fielded only 8 mechs while Squad 3 had a measly 5.
"Sergeant Dacre reporting, Squad 2 will fall under your command Sergeant Leonard"
"Sergeant Hacket reporting, Squad 3 will fall under your command Sergeant Leonard. Sorry there aren't that many of us left.."
Leonards heart sank, he knew the situation was dire but these reinforcements still fell under his expectations.
"Understood Sergeants Dacre and Hacket'' He replied, keeping his voice steady despite his disappointment, "I intend for my squad to take the front, take up positions to our rear and provide support as best you can. Corporal Becker you as well, with your leg you're in no position for frontline combat."
"But sir!"
"That's an order Becker" Leonard left no room for argument. "You are in no shape to fight in the front, my decision is final."
And with that the group set off once again, despite Becker's constant grumblings.