2951-06-21 – Tales from the Service: The Prime August Glitch 

“Damn.” Kanako Dunai kicked off a diagnostic routine and put his ship’s comms antenna on manual control. A comms breakdown during a drop wasn’t quite the worst case scenario, but it certainly wasn’t good. “Commander Mesut, do you read? Having comms trouble over here.” 

Once again, there was no reply on any channel. Staying on course was no trouble without comms since their path had been pre-planned, but soon, he’d have to make the turn to start his descent toward either Alpha or Gamma, and he’d need to know which one. 

Fortunately, Kanako was directly behind the squadron commander, and could go wherever the other dropship went. His other instruments and his tactical plot seemed to be functioning all right, and they still showed clear skies, with no enemy presence. Even as the IFF identifiers on most of the symbols on his display became stale and winked out to leave pale, uncertain radar contacts, he could still make out which one was Commander Mesut’s. 

“Attack force, Alpha is a trap.” The mysterious female voice sounded more insistent this time. “Land at Gamma.” 

Given that his comms were still apparently down, there was no reason he should be able to hear this woman and nobody else. Perhaps this was one of the pathfinders sent down to recon landing sites sending a max-power broadcast from the surface, but even then, the other members of the squadron would be easier to pick up than her signal. “Identify yourself.” Kanako sent, not really expecting to be heard. 

He’d returned his attention to keeping on Mesut’s tail by the time the voice responded. “Are you with the attack force? Listen, there’s a trap down there. You’ve got to-” 

Kanako muted the channel. After checking that the comms system was still not responding properly, he once again tried to triangulate the source of this sender, and once again got no useful response. He’d been a damage control tech, and knew he could fix a bad antenna, but that would have to wait until he was on the ground, and the landing area was secure; until then, he was on his own. 

Being on his own, he wasn’t sure what to do about the voice. She sounded earnestly concerned, but that could mean anything. A functioning system would filter out signals from hostile sources automatically, but he already knew his comms hardware was not working properly; this could be a Nate provocation, attempting to lead the invading dropships astray. 

It could just as easily be a civilian on a commercial comms device, whose signals would never get through the filters on military antennas. Furthermore, Nate knew all too well that most Confederated pilots and troops couldn’t hear transmissions sent to mislead them, and they probably wouldn’t spend much time on something they didn’t think would work. 

As Kanako considered the situation, he noticed a change in the display in his console. Where all the blips around him had been traveling roughly in parallel before, now they were beginning to fan out onto at least three distinct headings. The outer wisps of Prime August’s atmosphere were already beginning to interfere with the radar-only picture, but he thought one group looked to be on course toward the Gamma landing site. 

The signature of Commander Mesut’s dropship was still on a descent course toward the Alpha site, so Kanako stayed with it, though he had his misgivings; those with their comms working normally would be able to confirm plan changes with the launch coordinator back on Michaelis. Surely, they were changing course because they were ordered to, but nothing in the pre-op briefings had indicated that the landing force would be splitting up. 

The view ahead began to glow orange as the dropship plummeted into thicker layers of atmosphere, its speed igniting the air. Automatically, the ship retracted its antennas and closed the heavy shutters over the cockpit, protecting sensitive equipment and crew alike from the fires of atmospheric entry, and the tactical plot went dark. 

With little to do as the ship careened downward on autopilot, Kanako considered the situation. What would cause command to split the force? It seemed in defiance of every contingency in the battle plan, and yet, it was clearly what was happening. 

By the time the ship slowed and the armored shutters slid back open, he still hadn’t found an answer. Kanako could see nothing but blackness ahead, but soon the radar system painted a map of the sky and terrain ahead, and once again the signature of at least one dropship – probably still Commander Mesut’s - appeared directly ahead. A single Puma escort overhead was only remnant of the escort force. 

Kanako was over Landing Site Alpha barely a minute later, circling downward to land as Mesut’s dropship disgorged its company of suited Marines onto a meadow of stiff, shimmering grass-analogue. A third dropship had appeared from somewhere and, not having comms to coordinate, Kanako let it land first before coming down himself.  

The landing was routine, with no sign of enemy forces or enemy fire. Kanako already knew the atmosphere of Prime August was perfectly breathable, but he ran the filters and sensors anyway on final approach. “Lieutenant, I'm seeing nothing out there but more Marines.” 

“Understood.” The gruff Marine officer sounded disappointed. “Shouldn’t we be in command net range? My comms are still out.” 

“I’m having some tech problems on the dropship, sir.” Kanako winced; he didn’t like telling an officer about technician-level problems, and most officers didn’t like to hear about them. “I'll get on it as soon as we’re down.” 

Even as he said this, Kanako twisted the yoke to spin the ship around direct its ramp toward the other two landed dropships, then set the landing skids down on the grass. “Welcome to Prime August.” He lowered the ramp, eager to get the troops off so he could figure out what was wrong with his ship. 

The attack on Prime August succeeded with few casualties on May 26, but the problems encountered in this first proper attack on an Incarnation held world in the Sagittarius Frontier was not without its problems, as next week’s continuation will explain. 

Problems with communications equipment are not the only thing which hampered the mainly Marine attack force; Prime August’s small but well emplaced Incarnation garrison took nearly twice as long as originally planned to exterminate. Most likely, the issues encountered are now being worked into Seventh Fleet's plans for future operations.