"You're out of your mind," the pilot declared, less an accusation than the statement of simple fact. Her partner agreed readily. "That's true, but it's still going to work." He swallowed hard, cinching a strap on his armor. If the jetpack came loose - no, best not to think about that. The plan would work. It had to. "Just keep the Ptolemy close. Once that core goes down, I'll need your help mopping up." His palm slapped the release, and the vessel's rear door hissed open obediently. A chill wind gusted through the aperture, howling at him. With Rosa at the helm, their ship the Ptolemy was holding altitude several hundred meters above Akua. Several hundred meters above a location they'd tagged "Epsilon Fortress," an installation that had caused them no end of trouble for weeks. Raids had plagued the two survivors almost from the moment they landed, and only careful planning and constant vigilance had saved them from repeated drone strikes and shock-troopers. There'd been no chance for diplomacy then, only defense, and the last two survivors of the MS Titan were no longer pulling punches. When not mining or rebuilding, they'd scouted carefully, keeping well outside the range of the Fort's turret emplacements. Know your enemy, went the old adage. Everything had a weakness, they merely had to find and exploit it. As the days dragged on however, they grew more desperate and reckless. Perimeter scouting showed them the limits of the base's range, but little else. They needed more intel. Finally, Keph settled on another old saying - no guts, no glory - and conducted a fast low-altitude flyover of Epsilon Fortress. His ship limped back to their outpost that night, scarred and smoking, but when he hopped out he greeted Rosa with a swift hug. "I've got it!" he'd said then. Epsilon had yielded its secret, and he was filled with manic glee at the prospect of exploiting it. When he told Rosa the plan however, she was less than enthused. Now here they were, stationed directly above the base that had caused them so much grief. Keph tightened his helmet and gripped the doorway tight, leaning into the wind. He knew it was insane, but the chance to deal with this thorn in their side banished all thoughts of caution or hesitation. Epsilon Fortress was going to be a smoldering, cratered memory when they were through. "You reading me, Rosa?" "Loud and clear. I'd tell you to be careful, but..." Keph laughed. "I know. I'll radio when it's done." He shifted his weight, feeling the jetpack weigh heavy on his back. He prayed it was enough. "Initiating jump in three... two... one... ready or not, here I come you sons of-" The rush of wind roared over the comm a split second before it shut off. Heart beating in his throat, he dropped like a stone, aimed dead-center at the middle of the complex below. With their superior range, Keph and Rosa found there was little they could do against Epsilon's turrets directly. Every attempt had been met by withering firepower, forcing them to turn back or end up as carbon ash. But those turrets were slow to aim. At close range, a target could dance circles around one without fear of reprisal. Those same turrets were now swiveling ponderously around to face him as he fell towards the Fortress. Slowly, far far too slowly, they tried to track the man streaking down right between them. Blue fire erupted from his pack as he sought to slow his descent to non-lethal speed. Hard metal rushed up to meet him, jarring his spine painfully even as he bent his knees to absorb the impact, rolling across the steel plates to bleed momentum. Tumbling, he slammed his shoulder against the far wall, wrenching it painfully. Dazed and bruised, the man climbed to his feet. He could hear alien troops below, shouting alerts as they mobilized against this new threat. For now, however, he was safe. No turrets could reach him, and his objective was just beneath his feet. That was Epsilon's true weakness - the electronic core that ran the base. The beating heart of the installation, protected only by a few layers of steel and grating, heavily defended from everything but the most direct approach. Straight down through the roof. Smiling grimly, he unslung his shotgun and aimed it at the metal under his feet. The red-painted weapon bucked in his hands as scattershot tore through the weak plating. "I'm in," he radioed back to Rosa. "Told you it would work." The shotgun thundered once more, and Epsilon Fortress went dark and silent... ════════════════════════════ My girlfriend and I play together on a local connection, and alien POIs gave us plenty of trouble early on. We tried a lot of things, though tunneling in ended up being our go-to strategy for most of them. After we took out an "Epsilon Fortress Mk I," I noticed how the core was dead-center of the base and had no real defenses from above. "HALO," as you may have realized, is referring to military parachuting, and has nothing to do with power-armored super-soldiers. Although I haven't actually attempted the HALO strategy yet, the idea stuck with me, hence the short tale above. My preferred weapons are explosive packs and shotgun (an "epic" find from the Abandoned Mine), while she favors assault rifles and her minigun - though she's been having a blast (pun intended) with the handheld plasma cannon, lately. And for the curious, this is the Ptolemy: Small efficient CV designed to replace our two-seater SVs for mining excursions and adventuring. No warp-drive, sadly, which does limit its usefulness, but it works great for the role it was intended to fill.
