William Crimson - Unoffical interview - Cristóbal Campaign
"The worst things were not the things you were ordered to do,
It was the things you were not ordered to do but did anyway."Briefing
The full gang were present for the drop, the boys and gals were all kitted out for a heavy operation, our job is to secure the spaceport and the shield colony before spreading across the continent, Command wants us was to nail that fucker Hetos, slap some cuffs on him and let justice rule the day, although we got authorisation to bag him and tag him, if he puts up a fight. Captain Patrice Riegart wants us to be gentle, hearts and minds and all that shite, but we’ll see how long that holds up.
The Captain didn’t seem too happy during briefing, but then again, he had one of those AmArc Liasons attached to his bloody wrists. I spoke with Lieutenant Claire, and the lass believes this is a corporate request but you didn't hear it from me, or her for a matter of fact.
And so we dropped into hell, I saw dropships landing all over the continent, real fucking hard-like, I could see the shielding burning against the atmosphere, if you looked hard enough, you may even glimpse some heading towards the Space Port. We assumed that the big cheese would be in there, we were wrong.
Deployment
The civvies, or rats as O'Brian liked to call them, were mostly compliant in our sector, especially with the Psyops broadcasting that we were here for Hetos and that crooked bastard alone, every fucking minute... So, they were all fine and dandy, at the start anyway, the Colonial Liberation Front were small time back then, our main issue was with the Colonial Militia, they weren’t our enemy but boy oh boy, they weren’t our friends, we heard distant skirmishes but they seemed mostly one-sided, These poor hand-me-down soldiers couldn’t compete with the best and brightest,
Wasn’t long after initial deployment shit started going tits-up, we were posted in the rural sector, moving across the continent, we've been going door to door and relocating the civvies, we've found a few contraband items but we've had no real issues. We still couldn’t find that cunt Hetos and the slotting from the city really amped up, hell, we even had CAS in the air. The brass is still tight-lipped about the whole operation, some of the boys are getting a little antsy, didn't help when night came and the horizon is glowing like bonfire night came earlier.
The civvies wouldn’t respond to us anymore, O'Brian claims it’s because we're getting closer to a Hetos’ ratnest, but me? All I saw was scared civvies, we bumped in to Costellos squad, traded a few goodies, mostly ammo and MREs, in return we got a few stories, not the usual 'local girl looking for a strong military man at next village' but some real fucked up shit. Come to think about it, they picked up a lot of ammo, I'll ask the Sarge about it in the morning.
Nightfall
….and we still hadn’t found him or any of his crew, other than a few lowlings. So Command had us on the move, worried about the shite escaping the sector or digging deep so this op dragged on longer than it needed too.
We were passing through a village when O'Brian opened up on a civvie, the fucker just came right at us, bulky overcoat on, splattered with blood….spouting gibberish about something or other, I couldn’t understand him, he kept moving to us even when we raised our tools and threatened to slot him. It just made him worse, the look on his face, I couldn’t tell if it was panic or determination, the sweat trickling down his face, his shaky hands, fear or adrenaline. Then he reached into his coat, the last thing he ever did. O Brian slotted him three times in the head. Nobody said nothing. We searched him, ready to bag and tag...and we realised the civvie was reaching for his ID papers.
Then the whole town comes to life, this fucking ghost town starts getting real populated, civvies started yelling at us, claiming we're murderers, they start coming out with anything they grab, workshop saws, old scythes, axes, that sort of thing. You can tell there is a storm brewing, we were in the middle of this fucking town and quickly getting surrounded, Sarge tried talking with them but they keep yelling, we see one or two colonists with some light firearms, relics, but they'd still put a man down if you hit them right…and they looked like they’d seen their fair share of scrapping.
Then, someone went and dropped something, it goes clang, and anything sounds like a bang when you're holding a gun, someone starts slotting with a 9mm, then someone opens up with an M16. I see the Sarge hit the ground, someone yells man down. Then I hear the whizzing of a fuckin’ RPG and an explosion from one of the buildings behind us, shrapnel flying all around – nobody dead, at least on our side but it painted the picture and it was one the artist used only red.
The civvies were like headless chickens, some running at us, some running away. It’s all the same in the chaos, Me and the boys just open up on 'em, whole fucking town, men, women, hell even the youngsters, there was too much smoke, too much chaos. We did what we had to, or at least we thought so.
The Sarge didn't make it, in retaliation Overwatch authorised CAS and orbital barrages on the nearby settlements, The CAS dropped fatmen and napalm across the sector while we were waiting for med-evac, we did all we could for the chief but it wasn't enough. We should have taken more precautions.
Redeployment
O Riley is the ASL, he made it clear that he holds the civvies personally accountable, nobody contests, him and the Sarge enlisted together, and besides, most of the lads agree. I don't know what I feel right now, other than numb. We cleared a small slum near the city, no more smiles and sweeties. They either followed O'Rileys orders or they were quickly found themselves deep-sixed and thrown in a ditch. Normal civvies would comply, he said, only the CLF rats would resist. Nobody said anything, even overwatch was more or less silent, seemed that they had more to chew than even we did. ThÛ Q ",Ç x+q0%úº s||e,ðSl¨¥$v×ysñ tónñYyá" r0$HÏ?v fssBÊ BÀæ ^
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Captain Patrice Riegert - Unoffical interview - Cristóbal Campaign
"I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't been there. We dropped screaming onto Cristóbal, capturing the spaceport and shield colony and spreading out into the countryside. By nightfall we held half the continent out to the gulf stream. We all felt so studly with our armor and firepower. Psyops broadcast to everyone that Hetos was a schmuck and a crook and that we were here to nail his ass, like we were no more than some simple shamus come around the block to slap the cuffs on a persistent offender. We had some tiny contingents of Panamanians and Argentines with us to wave the UA flag and yell at anyone who'd listen that this was a joint op, legally enacted under the provisions of the Washington Treaty. A lot of people bought that one, just like they bought Space Command's estimate of 254 locals dead. Meanwhile, the cadavers of five hundred colonial militiamen and over fifteen hundred civilians were being bulldozed by USCM engineers into mass graves and seeded with vicious bacterias designed to turn them into pools of goo.
"Nobody at home gave a damn. No one even asked who was accountable. Media coverage was limited to the four Marines who came home in boxes draped with Old Glory, and some form-letter UAAC announcement about the 'restoration of public order'. Meanwhile, the AmArc corporate suits who'd rode shotgun on the assault quietly secured the wellheads and then ordered us to bust the worker's strike with CS gas and baton rounds. We complied.
"Three months after the mission, AmArc announced a record share dividend. On that day I resigned my commission."
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