Post by Sgt. Francesca Vaille on Jan 11, 2012 13:44:07 GMT -5
[ this thread is for 'setting the scene' for the mission the Phoenix will be undertaking ]
november, 2522
how can you know that I'm the one
who lives the maddest vacation
another road another trial
where's the difference
tell me right
Haven. It was a small planet. One filled with folks that just wanted to be left alone. They were all independent minds with little care for outsiders that might try to disrupt their way of life. Anyone could respect that, and it was the reason no one really ever came out this way. Especially after everyone in one of the smaller mining communities was slaughtered by Alliance Forces. Sure, they'd harboured some people not friendly with the way the law worked, but the outright slaughter had been a little much. No one knew who's order it had been, though. Not even the Alliance. Safe to say - these people despised Purplebellies in all their forms. Unfortunate that they should be stuck with a small contingent of Alliance troops. Their small patrol ship had been damaged, and they had been forced to land. This was not the ideal place, but then again, the Cheyenne had had no choice.
The boat was currently located just outside the small community of Bluestone. It was situated at the side of a large mountain, a dozen or so buildings making up the small mining town, while the majority of the people lived underground in very dug-out caves and tunnels. It was easier with the few storms they had around this way; the houses easy to prop back up again, but not very safe to always live in. So every house had a way down under.
Whilst being stuck here, with their engineer doing all he could possible to get them up and out of Dodge, they had tried to reason with the locals. They'd tried to make peace. At this moment in time, Sergeant Vaille had all but given up trying to make nice just for the sake of their emergency landing. All they needed was to get fixed and get off this rotten little rock.
Her second, Corporal de Soto, however, was ever the peacemaker. He was a nice kid. Little bit naive sometimes, but knew how to follow an order and get tough should the situation require it. Vaille had faith in him.
"Look, sir. We just need a few supplies. We can pay, or trade--"
"Ain' tradin' wit' no gorram Alliance hun dan. I toldja!"
"Pa, they're jus' some grunts. They only wanna trade. I say give'em what they want, then they can get the good gorram outta here."
"Now stay outta this, Mai! Ain' no concern o' yorn."
The rest of the 'grunts' around de Soto muttered amongst themselves, one of them, Jensen, tried to save him from all this nonsense.
"Give it up, de Soto. The Sarge has already stopped trying. We've got enough to last before our pick-up arrives. Shouldn't be too long. Week or so tops, right?"
The rest of the small task force had already started to move away. Being stuck here was grating on everyone's nerves. The townsfolk, the miners, the soldiers themselves. Vaille seemed pretty calm most of the time. Though, she was starting to snap at people more. Sure, she had a forceful manner about her anyway... but this wasn't making things any better.
"Well, thanks for your time, anyway, Mr Raines. Maybe you'll change your mind?" The boy was hopeless, sometimes.
"Jus' git yer purplebelly back to yer ship, Alliance-boy."
Everyone had a breaking point. Corporal de Soto had a very high tolerance threshold, but this was all getting too much for him. What had they ever done to these people? This small group in particular, that is. Nothing. They were just soldiers. They weren't behind anything that had caused all the unrest in the 'Verse. Sure, the 'Alliance' had. But it hadn't been all of them!
"I've had enough of this. We've done nothing since we got here-- not a gorram thing! We didn't impose on the town-- we didn't occupy it! And we sure as gorram hell didn't cause any of the grief you're takin' out on us!
Behind him, the group exchanged some surprised glances. Jensen turned towards one as she leaned in to his ear, "Damn-- de Soto's got some balls after all."
The commotion, and any fight that might've ensued, was stalled by a slight in the skies. A ship. A ship! For a moment, the Alliance troops almost rejoiced. But... it wasn't their relief. It wasn't Alliance. Plus... it was coming in way too fast. Smoke was billowing out the back. For another split second, everyone joined in the thought that it was Reavers. But the ship wasn't 'decorated' that way. Just damaged.
"Sound the gorram alarm! Get everyone to their posts! Get the others to safety! Jared, on the cannon!"
"Sir. We should report to the Sergeant." Jensen tugged at de Soto's shoulder.
It was about then that the cannon open-fired. De Soto was shouting at them to hold fire, but no one was listening to a Purplebelly. The ship took a further dive.... and crashed through some houses before embeddeding itself in the side of the mountain.
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