Golden Band Episode 3: Reinforcements and Alliances

[Shadowwalker]

Inside the medic tent and the newly constructed medical building, chaos reigned amidst the cacophony of pain and despair. The stench of burnt flesh hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sharp scent of disinfectant as medics worked tirelessly to tend to the wounded.

In the crowded tent area, soldiers writhed in agony, their cries piercing through the stifling atmosphere. Among them lay Kathren Whitehorse and Aaron Proudmoor, their bodies battered and broken by the brutality of battle the previous day, their features pale and drawn with the bandages regularly changed as their wait to be transferred to the new building. Throughout the long night, they had endured the agonizing wait for medical attention, the sounds of waves crashing against the sea wall outside serving as a grim backdrop to their suffering. But as the hot afternoon sun began to rise, a glimmer of hope emerged as the trickle of saveable patients made their way into the newly constructed medical building.

Within its walls, the wounded found respite from the cramped confines of the tent, though space remained scarce amidst the influx of casualties. Despite the overwhelming challenges, the medics worked tirelessly, their faces etched with determination as they tended to each patient with care and precision.

Near one of the tents, past backdrop of groans and cries of the wounded, a heated argument erupted, shattering the uneasy calm that hung over the camp. Ty Sibo, his eyes blazing with fury, stood toe-to-toe with a Golden Band commander, his voice ringing out with righteous indignation.

"You can't keep throwing away lives like they're nothing!" Sibo's voice echoed across the makeshift encampment, drawing the attention of nearby soldiers who paused in their tasks to listen. "We're not expendable! Every single one of us matters!"

The commander, his expression stoic but his eyes betraying a hint of unease, attempted to placate Sibo, but the infantryman was having none of it. With each word, his anger surged, fueled by the memory of fallen comrades and the weight of responsibility that bore down upon him.

Finally, with a defiant glare, Sibo delivered his ultimatum. "I've put in a call to the owner of the Golden Band," he declared, his voice resolute. "We need upgrades, better gear, advanced mech tech – anything to give us an edge in this war. I won't stand by and watch more lives get thrown away."

As the gravity of Sibo's words hung heavy in the air, a tense silence descended upon the camp. The commander's stern gaze bore down on Sibo, his voice low and measured. "You crossed a line, Sibo. Going over my head like that, it's unprofessional."

Sibo's expression hardened, his jaw clenched in defiance. "I did what needed to be done," he retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. "You were too blind to see it."

Before the commander could respond, a sudden flash of movement caught him off guard. In the blink of an eye, Sibo drew his sidearm and leveled it at the commander's face. There was a deafening crack as the gunshot echoed through the tent, followed by the sickening thud of the commander's lifeless body hitting the ground.

Silence descended upon the scene, broken only by the ragged breaths of shocked onlookers. Sibo's gaze lingered on the fallen commander for a moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, with a cold smirk, he uttered a phrase in German, his voice devoid of remorse. "Wenn alles, was du suchst, Beförderungen sind und nicht dein Mitmensch, werde ich da sein, um dich auszulöschen."

In the chaos of the medic tent, a voice pierced through the air, cutting through the groans of the wounded and the shuffle of medical personnel. The sound was unexpected, yet carried a note of urgency and concern.

"Aaron Proudmoor and Kathren Whitehorse," the voice called out, carrying a distinct lilt that hinted at a mixture of authority and compassion. "If the two of you are alive, please call out, and I'll help you to the medical building."

The source of the voice emerged from the throng of patients, revealing The genemod horse girl, her form adorned with the trappings of a medic. Despite the chaos surrounding her, she stood tall, her posture radiating confidence and determination.

But it was the sight of her own injuries that drew attention—a jagged scar that marred her torso, and a hind leg half-replaced with gleaming cybernetics, Clutching a small clipboard tightly in one hand, she scanned the faces of the wounded, her gaze unwavering as she waited for a response. In the dim light of the tent, her expression was a mix of worry and resolve, a silent vow to do whatever it took to ensure the safety and well-being of those under her care.

 

[DovanianDesign]

=== Meanwhile - On the Incoming Transport ===

The door to the heavy equipment bay opened, in the doorway is one of the Golden Bands' newest recruits. A six fingered human male called Faris. Equipped more dated armor and rifle, the man grinned to his amusement as he got to see his Sun Runner. Approaching his mech, he waved to everyone he passed with a friendly, "Hey!" Facing out to everyone how excited he was to be there.

Standing before his mech, Faris expanded his arms out in both directions as he could and bellowed, "Behold! Mihajlo has graced me!" Showing to his God the appreciation and excitement he had for this mission. "Oh How I have waited for this opportunity again! Hvala... Now, let's see what needs tuning..." His language tainted with a foreign accent that was thick and borderline imperceptible. Looking around himself, Faris had looked for his tablet. Unable to locate his equipment he shouted, "Oi! Crew! Has anyone seen my tablet? I need to run my final inspection before groundfall!"

 

[gravesdirt33]

Friendly squadron calling frantically over the radio transmissions for medics for corporal wounded weaponry gunshots into flesh burning blood and sweat salt in the air from the sea downpours of rain from the sky. Whitehorse wakes up only to discover that she is on a stretcher in a medical tent with thousands of wounded soldiers. At the same time, Whitehorse is medically stable enough to be waiting to undergo surgery for her injuries in the battle. Despite the pain and hurt wracking her body, Whitehorse’s right arm is dismembered during the fight against the enemy's mechanical robots, including the enemy infantry. She's grateful to be alive, even though she's suffering from the loss of a limb.

 

[ajax228]

Samantha had dismounted her mech and was relaxing with the sunrunner schematics pulled up on her assistant data terminal. She had also managed to pull combat data from one of the downed mechs. She was fairly impressed by the machine but it didn't suit her close in gunfighter style not with how slow and less maneuverable it was compared to her Proteus. It also didn't have a melee weapon or could fly, granted a metal giant kicking something did the trick most of the time. A commotion made Sam look up and she watched the scene where Ty shot the commander. She wasn't on the ground she was part of the drop force sent to attack behind enemy lines when the beach head was established, she had heard it was brutal fighting it must have been if she was the only member of the drop team left and part of her pod was vaporized.

Samantha didn't like what she saw and frowned. She approached Ty being bold and all 5 ft. shortness up and looked up at him. "You talk about wasting lives but didn't you just do the same thing?" She said and gestured to the dead man. "Not only that but did you have to shoot him in front of everyone? That's bad for morale and a good way to get regular soldiers, like me, questioning if they will get shot at some point by a higher ranking member."

 

[Shadowwalker]

=== On the Incoming Transport ===

With the happy-go-lucky Faris's questioning. he would see a large 7ft tall man with greyish-white hair and a handlebar mustache. Built like a hulking dump truck the man looked around like he was listening to something. "One floor up in locker 23, th'names Frank." Looking over to the mech in the bay he would ask, "So I take it you are a mech pilot as well huh? I here were replacing about 250 people in the Trojan company."

=== In the medical tents ===
Walking over to Whitehorse's cot the medic would hold out a pen. "Please sign here with your good hand acknowledging that you understand that you are paying a small amount of shares from completing your first engagement to pay for your medical treatment." Looking down at the bandaged stump. she would shake her head. "on the plus side since you're one of the 500 survivors of Trojan company, you were the first to be issued your sun runner mk2. considering everyone from Trojan company went to basic together I'm sorry to say that half of Trojan company was either killed outright or to the point that they're being sent to the republic having earned their citizenship and fresh start albeit it a crippled state."

=== between Ty and Sam ===
Ty turned his attention to Sam "Ah I thought I smelled new blood, In case you weren't aware about 60% of the Golden Band forces are Criminals and shock-collar criminals being drafted into hell with the promise of good pay and if we survive a fresh start in the republic. much like myself he was a shock collar so I wouldn't weep for the criminal same for you shouldn't weep for me if I die." tossing her an MRE. he would continue. "you should eat and rest up while you can something tells me the enemy aren't done with this section of land just yet." the old germanic cyborg stated before walking away.

 

[DovanianDesign]

=== On the Incoming Transport ===

Spinning around quickly, Faris' attention was stolen by the taller creature that answered his question. With him introducing himself as Frank, Faris approached his fellow mercenary with a soldier's expedient stride. Halting a half meter away from Frank to extend his large hand out, "Faris Hodzich." He introduced before continuing, "I do recall that in the briefing. Though only 250 casualties? That- That hardly sound like a heavy combat zone if you're asking me." Laughing at to him the percevibly smaller combat deployment that he was more used to. This mission reminding him of the counter insurgency campaign he was assigned to back home.

Settling down he moved on to another topic, "Anyhow- I do appreciate you Frank. If you ever need something, ask. I'll see what I can do to assist you." Assuring the gray man with a big toothy grin.

 

[Shadowwalker]

Frank looks down at the man and shakes his hand. "Well, 250 deaths from Trojan company 500 wounded and 250 are fully capable of fighting, In Serra company all 1000 were killed outright, and about 25 shuttles much like the one we are riding in were shot down and were still getting casualty reports coming in so it was a messy affair in the first 12 hours of first contact and forming a beachhead." walking back to the ready room Frank was busy loading up his 200 round box mags for his double barrel auto shotgun that's belt fed with slugs. "So long as you don't forget about the ground pounders like us I'm sure you'll do fine and besides if you don't we will be seeing each other a lot as I'm the new combat medic for Trojin company."

 

[gravesdirt33]

=== In the medical tents ===

Whitehorse took the clipboard from the medic that contained the documents for her to sign. By signing the agreement, she acknowledged the payment shares for her first engagement of treatment for her battle wounds and also confirmed that she was one of the 500 survivors of the Trojan company. With her good hand, she took the medic's pen and signed the paperwork. After reading then signing the document, Whitehorse expressed gratitude for surviving the ordeal, saying to the Medic "It can be a miracle for myself that to become the only one who survives from the battlefield on the beachfront for the Golden Band company.”Kathryn replied to the Medic.

 

[Steeljaw36]

“…..if I’d ‘Ave know what was up, I’d ‘Ave just stayed in prison!” James, another “volunteer” convict finished, his words eliciting grins and some gruff acknowledgments from the few penal batillion survivors gathered around, Aaron included among them.

“Can’t quite argue that, but I figure volunteer now, or be voluntold later, and the poor saps that are going to come after us are likely going to be even worse off than we were.” The genemod said, gesturing with the stump of his right arm, his hand and forearm having been amputated last night, as by the time the overworked surgeons got to him, the hand and forearm were deemed too far gone to save. At least the painkillers were working, unlike the medfoam in his mech.

They group started to get into betting on the odds of the new guys surviving, before Aaron heard his name being called. He answered, and soon saw who’d called out to him. Holly, he remembered her name now, the medic he’d briefly spoken with before they’d dropped onto the beachhead, as she strode into the midst of the group, eliciting a few cat calls from the others. Aaron flashed her a grin. “Holly. Nice to see you survived.” He did noticed her new cybernetic limb, obviously she’d not gotten out unscathed. “Guess you signed up for the more expensive insurance, huh?”

 

[Shadowwalker]

Holly Shook her head and pointed to the Skeleton borg who just publicly executed a officer. "No I didn't opt for it. what actually happened is that guy over there is paying out of pocket with funds I didn't even know he had to cover Alpha grade milspec cybernetics for all who need replacement limps and parts. as well as the new sunnrunners, body armor and infantry weapons. that are all being delivered along with the new guys and any merc contact he has made in 300+years he's been alive." taking Aaron by the hand she would lead him back to the medical tent. "this being said your getting a replacement arm at the shoulder down. sorr more amputation is needed."

 

[ajax228]

Samantha watched Ty walk away and made a hmph noise before peeling open the MRE to start eating its contents. She would walk over to a dead robot and look at it as as she ate her meal, she was tempted to pry open its head and use her terminal to poke around its head but she also didnt want some AI.

 

[Steeljaw36]

“300 years? Guess you could make quite a few contacts in that time. Especially if you’re running as a merc for that long” Aaron replied, sparing a glance at the man in charge.

That was a great expense he was incurring, and it appeared he didn’t care in the least. So that was something. “Still, I don’t think you can call in enough favors to overcome rampant stupidity and carelessness”

At the mention of further amputation to replace his arm, Aaron smirked. “Won’t hurt as much as an unplanned amputation will it? Maybe the medgel won’t be expired this time…”

 

[DovanianDesign]

=== On the transport ===

"Right, well I will try to not be on the receiving end of your professions then." Faris stated in response to Frank. Returning his attention back to his Sunrunner mech. His attention being completely focused on preforming routine maintenance on his equipment as the transport entered atmosphere and began to initiate land fall. The variant human male surprising himself as he took the turbulence well.

Upon land fall, the man mounted his mech and powered it on to assist in the offloading of man and material from the transport vessel. Playing his part as a cog in the ever churning war machine that he interpreted the Golden Band to be. Something he was far too familiar with from the front lines of his now distant and impossible to reach home world.

The man could be seen attaching cable and hooks to his mech and others before assisting in guiding them out to start resupplied the devastated remaining forces of Trojan Company. Waving gregariously to those he passed by with his uncanny smile. Somehow maintaining a state of positivity amongst the doom and gloom of those who survived the a hellscape he had yet to experience, yet.

 

[Shadowwalker]

**Medical building**
Ty would make his way to the medical room after the surgery was complete. "Aaron was it, I need a favor and I need you to be descreete with what I'm about to ask."
Passing a glance to the girl on the other medical bed who had her hand replaced from combat injurys the day before. "Ah greetings fraulein, you must be corpral whitehorse of the infantry battalion. Ill try to not disturb your rest." Ty Said before returning his attention to Aaron. "Not the famed smuggler I remember hearing about though at least your not half the man you used to be....just 10% less with all that metal he says with a chuckle.

as the light from the windows shine into the room Aaron would get a better view of Ty Sibo the individual who was part of the first wave that was nearly wiped out His physical form is a stark amalgamation of human fragility and cybernetic resilience. At over three centuries old, his frame bears the marks of time and conflict, the scars of battles long fought etched into his very being.

The remnants of his human visage are visible only in fleeting glimpses amidst the steel and circuitry that now dominate his form. Angular plates of metal, reminiscent of armor plating, encase vital areas of his body. The cybernetic reconstruction of his once-fragile frame is evident in the intricate network of fiber optic wiring that courses through his body, replacing what was once a nervous system. His bones, now 3D printed and reinforced, lend an almost skeletal appearance to his figure, a haunting reminder of his mortality and the lengths to which he has gone to defy it. His eyes, once windows to a soul now scarred by loss and conflict, are now concealed behind red lenses, glowing with an artificial intensity that betrays the humanity that lies buried beneath layers of steel and circuitry as well as kevlar muscular system. "As I was saying I have a favor to ask of you, I need supplies brought here and quickly for my forces. and yes I do lead the golden band however I wish to keep that a secret I don't want to be a bigger target on the field than I already am understand? do this and Ill make sure your fairly compinsated for your actions. tapping his cyberneting arm. "I could even be able to give you your arm back should the supplies get here in a timely manner what would you say?"

====Around Base====
As the various shuttles of new equipment and reinforcement show up and file out into their various assigned groups Frank makes his way to the medical tents Spotting Sam on his way. "Hey you the NDC pilot that was in the last engagement? My employer asked me to get you to sign off on something. parts spare parts and ammo allocation for your mech. seems like you got friends out here that wish to see you keep up the good work."

 

[Steeljaw36]

Aaron was studying his replacement arm, finally having the adjustments to it mostly tweaked, thanks to having searched out and downloaded the programming software to his pad earlier.

He was rather impressed, even being told what the replacement was supposed to be, but the genemod hadn’t quite believed the talk. This arm was everything and then some. Sure, organically grown replacements would be better, but given the situation, it was understandable getting cybernetics. Organics took time to regrow, something this place didn’t have to spare. The arm was a top of the line replacement though, military mods and all. The hidden forearm shotgun was a nice touch, while only holding two rounds of .410, one in each barrel, at point blank range, it was a nasty little suprise, for sure.

His ears swiveled toward the approaching footsteps, looking up as they stopped.

Aaron sighed internally. He’d not been suprised someone had done enough digging into his background to eventually figure out who he was, but he’d relied on the deep dive someone would have to do to either discourage them entirely or, failing that, take long enough for him to escape.

“A famed smuggler is either dead or jailed. A successful smuggler is one who stays below the radar.” He started, then smirked. “Or who can pull enough favors for or bribe those who would be looking for them…”

“I’m guessing you’ve found out who I am, so no sense trying to deny that. Why not turn me in?”

 

[Shadowwalker]

Ty lowered himself onto the Cot, his cybernetic jaw clicking softly as he settled into place. The air around them was filtered through advanced 3D-printed bone, courtesy of the cutting-edge resurritech technology that had brought him back from death over 300 years ago. His focus was intense as he spoke, disregarding any regulations or laws in the face of their current crisis.

"I need your skills, Aaron. I don't care about rules at the moment." He leaned back on the cot opposite Aaron, his gaze seeming to pierce right through him.

"You see, I fought against this same enemy on my homeworld for the NDC all those years ago. And when I died, a corporation seeking to salvage the war in heaven used me as a test subject for their new technology - created from the corpses of these metal monsters." He paused, reflecting on his past.

"I'm not some special forces hero like they make me out to be, Aaron. I was just a conscript thrown into a terrible situation and expected to survive." Ty's voice carried a hint of bitterness as he continued.

"But even after two wars and being hailed as a hero by the victors, history doesn't mention the atrocities committed in order to win." He let out a heavy sigh and looked down at the floor, filled with regret.

"And now I am dying. That's why everyone here is only on a 5-year contract. But it's also why I am pushing so hard to protect Everan from this threat - I don't want to see them resort to the same brutal tactics that were used on me and others like me." Ty's determination shone through his words as he made his plea.

"Join me and fight for Everan, Aaron. And I promise you will never have to worry about money again, Nor when you'll eat your next meal I'll even provide star charts of no longer used supply lines that you can smuggle threw so you dont get caught again." As he spoke, plans were already in motion to acquire the best war gear and cybernetics, secure support from powerful allies, and bring his family to the frontlines to aid in the battle.