They were at the rendezvous before the Terrencians. Somewhere in the distance, Nettlebrake from the direction, there was bombing. The support section huddled under their covers like begreyed field mice in their dens, hugging the inner slopes of the explosion crater.
The Terrencians arrived like ghosts in daylight, flowing almost shadowless over the crater’s lip. They were larger and solider than their allies, frontline assaulters bulked out by their body armour. One of them settled down to rest against a bump in the landscape that was a medic, to his comrades’ muffled mirth.
“Captain Bennett.” The Terrencian officer continued, “How is Great-Aunt Mabel?”
Captain Evelyn Bennett gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, “Gran’s good, Captain Count Schtulvayer. And Great-Aunt Samella?”
“Well”. He looked around at her squad. “You’re all women?”
“Your people asked for a support section. We’re a support section. Medics and etcetera.”
“So we did,” he sighed, “My men were hoping for more testosterone in your squad.” She grinned back at him.
Four hours later they’d reached their objective. The installation they surveyed from the wrack of a village was new in construction and design. Their job was simple: Seize, Investigate, Destroy.
Of course it was defended. Hard-faced hoplites in machine guns pits guarded the approaches. An armoured synoris prowled around its walls. The first machine gun pit went down easily then the enemy knew they were there.
The defence was fierce. The Terencians were overmatched by their opponents’ brute strength, their officer commanded from his synoris. Small red holes began blossoming on the defenders. Something thudded into the synoris’ engine block and it stopped.
Afterwards. “Captain Bennett, why didn’t you tell me you had snipers?”
“We’re a support section, Captain Count Schtulvayer. I thought it was obvious."