Front Towards Enemy

We decided that things were just a little too slow where the PIO had stuck us, probably trying to keep us out of trouble. So when we got the chance to go forward with a scout platoon from an Imperial army armored cav unit, we jumped at it. Our host was Capt Jae Busby, Jae as in Jaenille, a fiesty fireplug of an officer with carrot red hair in a non-regulation pony-tail who smoked cheroots and can spit farther than my grandad. We heard that the cav was going to do a deep recon in force, and as we hadn't seen any action since arriving, we bribed and wheedled a place amongst the tread-heads.

As a marine, I spent my career in one of 4 places: garrison, troop ships, jump capsules and on my own two feet. None of these prepared me for the adventure of rocketing across the ground in a big metal box driven by an maniac who apparently had something personal against every tree, bump and rock on planet -- he sure didn't miss any. The experienced crew were all strapped in tight, while my camera man and I were tossed around like beans in a maraca.

At last, we reached our deploy point. Jae suggested we stay with her in the track, but grunt that I am, I decided to leg it with the rifle squad she was carrying. As the rear door dropped, I was propelled out of the track at the front of a pack of wild cav troops, anxious to lock horns with the bad guys. Still smarting from the ride and feeling every one of my 42 years, I plopped down on the aft hatch to catch my breath.

When the cavalry says 'mobile', they mean it. No sooner had I gotten comfortable than Jae and her track were heading out, dumping me on butt, one each, marine, for the use of. I got up just in time to see the lovely little Marder assault carbine I'd won from Navy FAC with a queen high straight get tossed from the tracks of Jae's CFV. As I bent over to examine what was left of what had once been a delightful little rifle, I discovered that there was at least one OPFOR Vargr in the area. The army medics say that if it weren't for me pulling my butt pack down to cushion my ass during my little ride, it could have been bad. I'd like to know how much worse it could get than laying face down in an army medical tent, a doctor poking me in the butt with some kind of needle, with most of the army brass there to show their support and concern. That camera better have been empty, Phil.

An inadvertent communications snafu caused a bit of a stir. It seems an erroneous message indicated that an admiral from the 10th naval district was paying Vera Cruz a visit. During the so-called admiral's trip to the city of San Ignacio to catch up with general Androchev, the transport was fired upon

Suffering enough damage that the controls were disabled, the pilots of the transport were able to manage a controlled crash. Regrettably three lives were lost in the crash.

The would-be admiral survived with just minor injuries.

We would like to welcome Lt. Commander Maximillian Rhys Fairfax to Vera Cruz. May your stay be less eventful than your arrival. But somehow we don't think it will be.