Here's the shit I've gathered from the dossier.

I'm Major Jordan Naird. Apparently, I screwed up somehow in my last deployment to some backwater world not-so-different to ours, which led to one thing after another, and I somehow got to go on one last mission. Details were scarce, and the doc was filled with all the legal bullshittery you might expect from the military.

This world's been known to Staff Headquarters for quite some time. Only they haven't really been too keen on sending an expedition out here, for reasons unknown. From the intel they somehow have, this seemed to be a world with medieval-era tech. Swords and shit. Should be quite easy, but that doesn't explain their apprehension.

I surmise there'd be some element of resistance, some threat they didn't want to deal with. Until me, of course.

The objectives were simple. Gather more intel on the place and establish a base of operations. The base, in this case, being a defensible location some distance away from major population centers, with a massive garage door to be placed smack in the middle. Why that was the case, I wouldn't know until I'd seen the outside.

Then there was the roster. I had a company-sized expedition with all sorts of personnel, all sorts of expertise. There were three sections, composed almost entirely of Corporals and Sergeants. Staff Sergeants headed each one, with an officer on the side. First Class Quinn, Company XO.

Lastly, a manifest with all of our supplies. We had everything we needed to set up a decent FOB; we had the stuff for a decent comms station, infirmary, tents, ops room, all the basic amenities, and enough ammo to last us a month of non-stop fighting. I was surprised to see a few dozen camera drones, mortars, and three armored vehicles listed as well. Awfully well equipped for just a company.

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Once that was sorted, we'd have to get to work setting things up. I had 'til 1300 to set up this FOB, fuck me if I don't finish.

"Alright!" I screamed. "Everyone get off your asses and form up."

Having read their dossiers, they seemed to know what they were doing. Didn't take as long as that piss-poor count-off did.

"I'll be splitting you all into three sections. The first section will be out in the field. The second section will be QRF, or in the field as necessary. The third section will be our base boys, composed of our engineers and support staff. Your section leaders should know which ones to take. Section Leaders, show of hands."

Three men raised their hands, I nodded at them. "I'll leave you with them to sort you all out. First Class Quinn, set up positions around this room and get that garage door up, I want a functional base running by 12:30. Once you've all been sorted, I want First Section geared up and doing recce on our perimeter. Give me landmarks and roads, go on foot, and take the drones. Be back by nightfall." I took a breath. "Rest of you, with Quinn. Time's 0700, fall out."

Everyone burst into action, with Quinn and the three section leaders heading the charge. Nothing quite like barking orders at your guys and gals.

By noon, the base was up and running. The first section had already left for recon, the others resting on the floor with their food packs all over the place. All that was left to do was wait for Ass-puffer to come through that door.

When things start to look up for you, that's usually your cue to start being suspicious of everything. Never let life lull you into a false sense of security.

I entered the ops room to get an update from the first section. If bad news came in, I'd have thought it'd be from them. That was until I heard yelling from the outside.

"Contact, north-east side, five-hundred meters out! it's a fucking army!"

Music to my ears, I tell you.