Back in my day...

[Jayce]

The location was Planet Primus, deep in the uncharted Omicrons. The year: 244 A.S., the height of Bretonian colonialism and expansion. Below the trio of newly-introduced "Clydesdale"-class Freighters, the vast expanses of scrubland and wilderness raced by.

"Estimated time to target, Flying Officer?"

"Less than a minute, Major! Just enough time to twirl your moustache!"

"Good lad."

The Major did just that, as the beefy Freighter stuttered for a moment. The boys in the hold were dressed just as the Major, in resplendant blue and red uniforms, peaked pith helmets adorned with the emblem of Her Majesty's 25th Regiment of Foot. His heavy bootfalls echoed through the vessel as he strolled to meet the first squad of the Regiment.

"Good evening, chaps. We are going in."

With a twirl of his swagger stick, the Major drew his service revolver and stepped to the rear hatch. In one well-coordinated movement, the boys behind him took to their feet, rifles leant across shoulders.

"Ready... WEAPONS!"

The metallic clatter of two dozen of the finest Martini-pattern energy rifles being loaded with power-packs filled the hold as the Clydesdale rumbled once more, a tiny homestead and farm quickly passing in and then back out of sight as the formation circled. A few of the wattle and daub houses were burnt out, having fallen victim to either carelessness or continued attack. Surrounding the low rock wall about the number of houses was a heaving mass of humanoids, spears and hide shields adding color to the otherwise-grey group. A number hurled their weapons at the approaching vessels, to little effect. Back in the cockpit, the tiny surface navmap marked the spot, labelled simply as... Rorke's Drift.

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