Strike force Superfletch engaged a Boromite skirmish force in the Gilead highlands at approximately 1100 hours this day. The area of engagement was dominated by a large hill that stood between the opposing deployment zones. Scattered throughout the are were small patches of low scrub and a few rock formations that provided some substantial cover and created some choke points and line of sight obstructions.
The battle opened with a somewhat isolated Boromite weapons team taking position among the rock spires. The vast majority of the Concord fire in the early stages was directed at these unfortunate gangers, but their sacrifice bought time and opportunity for their comrades.
Gradually, both forces advanced through the sparse patchwork of terrain, plasma and mag rounds filling the air. The Boromite infantry was getting the worst of the fire, but their morale held firm. Paid for in blood, they soon had control of the central hill and used this position to their advantage almost immediately.
As the Overseer brought fresh troops into the firefight, a strike squad attempted to meld with the slope to survive the onslaught. They held briefly, but were soon over run. The Concord right flank now began to crumble and troopers began to loose heart. The Interceptor squad, pride of SF Superfletch, was next on the hit list. Much fire was poured in their direction. The bikers had made the mistake of slowing down to fire at range. They now paid for this oversight by becoming the target for every Boromite in view as they stopped, started, and stalled at the base of the hill. They managed to launch one completely ineffective assault but could neither find any reprieve from the fire, nor launch any other assault runs for the remainder of the engagement.
Meanwhile, the much expected Lavamite “lunch” party was gobbling up strike troopers on the opposite flank. They had managed to get behind the Concord firing line and utilize their rapid sprint before the troopers could react. The troopers panicked while turning their carbines on this new threat and were quickly turned into “mite chow” before they had a chance to run. Another strike squad fell victim, not to the spittle and claws, but to their loss of nerve.
As the battle concluded, only the command team and a couple of interceptors remained on the field. In terms of raw casualties, the butcher’s bill was roughly equal on both sides. However, the gritty determination of the Boromite gangers won out. SF Superfletch was left in want of more inspired and heroic leadership as both commanders acknowledged that failed reaction tests were possibly the most decisive factor in this defeat (save, of course, the perpetual “lavamite terror.”)