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The squad radio crackled to life, “You’re approaching the drop-off point, ETA 90 seconds. We’ve got eyes on eight Anurans in a trench to the north, maybe more. They’re dug in, be ready for a fight the second you’re out. Good luck, Ice Queen.” Staff Sergeant Gon said over the radio.
“Roger that.” Ice Queen said simply in response as she stood up, her long, pointed ears twitching. Her fairy senses were tingling, a feeling that had saved her life on more than one occasion. “Get ready for contact we’re dropping hot.”
“When they hear you speaking Japanese they’re going to be scarred shitless,” Staff Sergeant Gon continues, “They know you’re the best and they’re not expecting you, you have the upper hand girls, Godspeed.”
“Time to fuck some shit up.” Ice Queen said, “Lock and load, Banites. Remember your training. Check corners, check your sectors, and keep your wits about you. We’ll be out in less than a minute.” Her turquoise eyes scanned the faces of the young soldiers, searching for any sign of fear or hesitation. She found none.
She nodded in approval as the carrier came to a sudden halt. A buzzer sounded and the rear ramp of the carrier began to lower, letting in the biting cold and the swirling snow. The smell of recently exploded artillery shells accompanied the sudden drop in temperature, along with the distinct, earthy smell of the Anurans themselves. The young Banite soldiers braced themselves, their rifles trained on the opening ramp.
