Ah, the infantry. The grunts, the foot sloggers, the dogfaces. The poor bloody infantry.
For all the majestic machines of war, the weapons of utter devastation, and other implements of despair and destruction available to the races of the galaxy, the infantry still hold a place of important in warfare. They are cheap, effective, and for some, utterly disposable.
The good news is that out of all the lowly, barely trained conscripts thrown into the deadly frontlines of the various wars fought across the universe, you are probably some of the best prepared and equipped. Or at least not the worst.
The bad news is... well, you know the bad news.
You find yourself fighting your particular war on S-122, beside several million of your closest friends, or at least some people you might have seen in passing once or twice. The planet is an unfriendly, dark ball of blood, rock, and ruins that has the misfortune to be strategically vital to both your superiors and your enemies - it is the ideal place for either side to use as a staging point for attacks deep into the other's space. Thus far, the war has gone exceedingly well, but here, the enemy seems to have rallied, and the battle has turned into a bloody stalemate. Aren't you fortunate?
The enemy themselves are known as the Norenfal - a highly advanced race of beings who present a clear and present danger to the Rastal Collective. They have an advantage in technology, equipment, and training, but you have the advantage of massive, overwhelming numbers. For each of them, there are dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of you (if your commissar is to be believed anyway), and no matter how many millions they may kill, it is a foregone conclusion that you will win, crushing them with the sheer mass of your bodies if need be. I repeat, aren't you fortunate?
In such a situation, there is little you can do but your duty. Try to keep your wits about you, and play it smart, and you might come out of this alive.
You find reminding yourself of who you are helps you keep your head in the merciless back and forth the battle has become, and with all the death around you, it's terrifyingly easy to stop thinking of yourself and your comrades as sentient, living beings. As you awake from another restless night hunkered in the trenches beside your platoon, you begin your day contemplating this question:
Who am I?
((The OOC with a brief rundown of how this is likely to work, as well as char "sheets" can be found here
Right, that's right. In the end though, who you are matters only really matters to you. What’s more important is what you’re armed with, how you’re going to use it, and the fact that you are another warm body on the ground.
You are all reminded of this fact as the last semblances of sleep are driven away unceremoniously by the shouts of your section leader, Lieutenant Zegler."UP! You can sleep when you're dead, boys!"
Beefy, redfaced, and loud, the man is a walking cliche if you've ever met one, but has been a big part of keeping all of you alive since you landed on the planet two days ago. "We have a trench to take in a few hours, and I want everyone alert and prepared for when the signal comes. We have 150 odd yards of ground to cross without much for cover besides craters. Looks like we have a couple courses of action in front of us."
He pulls out his data slate, and sets it on the table in front of the section."Now, the ‘plan’ calls for us to move up to objective A alongside D section and F section after the artillery drops and the air support has a chance to hit them. You’ll notice we’re lucky enough to be right across from a fortified battlement, where there is likely some kind of heavy weapon. Running straight towards the enemy like that is a good plan, provided the enemy decides they don't feel like fighting today and don't bother shooting at us."
Zegler barks. Jabbing at the slate, he continues. "Now, if you've been paying attention during the last assault, or if you were really lucky, your basic training, you'll notice there's probably some better ways to deal with this situation. Just in case you're new or slow, I'll make this one easy on you."
He motions towards you guys as he says this.
He jabs at the D section indicator. "Option 1 - We can group up with either D or F section. Let them charge the lines in front of us, have them soak up some of the fire, and penetrate in between the battlements. Law of averages says some of us will probably get through. Our friends out in front of us might not like it, but they aren't in my section and aren't my problem. More importantly, we might hit a little more resistance when we get to the trench because we’ll still have to deal with those hardpoints."
Moving his finger back over to the plotted direct assault route, he taps the screen several times. "Option 2 - we have a few hours of darkness left. We could use them to move as close as possible to the enemy position, then rush them after the charge starts. They'll have lots of other things to be shooting at, and we might just get the drop on them. Of course, if they spot us moving up, or are prepared for such a cunning feat, it might be trouble."
Picking the dataslate back up, he adds "Third platoon will be moving up behind us, but besides that, we’re on our own. We can probably expect a counter-attack, and will be expected to hold the line until our relief and the tanks show up. We'll have to come up with an effective defense assuming we take the trench, but I think we'll worry about that once we’ve crossed over to the target successfully. Anyone have opinions, questions, or other suggestions?"
((Weigh in on the plans, and if you'd like, take some time to chitchat or whatever you'd like to do before moving out.))