During the events of Session 24, two members of the Miller FireWall Cell ( we really gotta come up with a cooler code-name for the group, I mean honestly… ) Agent Stan the consumate con-man, and Agent Sandy the international cat-burglar and Martian title belt-holding free-running mixed martial arts female middlewieght champion, join forces with Barsoomian Rebels and Church of Kemetic Orthodoxy Mujaheddin Warriors to create a diversionary assault on the Crater-rim Olympus Infrastructure Authority command base.

While Agent Sandy crept into the base having infiltrated the perimeter under considerable technological cover, Agent Stan strapped on a jet pack and packed himself, sardine/coffin like into the side of a multi-warhead missile turned post-war supply rocket with 11 other psychotics with no common sense and proceeded to rocket into the base at mach four or more.

Sandy commando’d on over to the communications and air-traffic control tower and placed eight shaped super-thermite charges around the perimeter of it’s base and waited for the go signal. None was forthcoming but when the missile streaked over the base disgorging it’s payload of ululating, hell-fire VII missile launching freedom-fighters, she figured it was about time and blew the tower right into the dirt. As Agent Stan’s troop of Rebels howled down out of the sky on full deceleration burn, Sandy faded back to the camp perimeter and planned her next attack.

Ragnarök ensues in the base as Barracks with sleeping and off-duty OIA soldiers are torn to absolute ruin by the anti-titan missiles and the inflatable structures with their volatile oxygen/nitrogen pressurized interiors erupt into hideous, soldier immolating crematoriums. Six soldiers survive.

Master-Sergeant B. I. Douglas who happened to be awake, pre-duty shift, so lovingly maintenance testing his Vulture Exoskeleton armor.
Sgt. W. Bird who had drawn perimeter patrol duty for beating the Captain at poker most soundly the previous Saturday.
Commander A. Gonzales, whose modified military DAITYA synthmorph sleeve was bunked in the Motor Pool where it was MUCH easier for his hulking form to fit.
Cpl. B. Willingham the K-9 Trooper, just returning from the final round of her outlying patrol shift and thus not in the ground zero of the Götterdämmerung that broke out in the middle of the base-proper.
Capt. S. Nishimura, the operations leading CQB commando who had an uncanny feeling that woke him up pre-dawn and caused him to don his martian surface gear and head out into the dark to take a look around for whatever was setting his ‘spider senses’ tingling.
And finally PFC Blackwing a Wampanoag descended brave who ancestral spirits were truly watching out for him that night. He survived by waking from nightmares of strange armored animal men with hulking, brutish forms and tough hides that turned his sharp flint tomahawk at every turn, (see the movie The Pathfinder for the dream) to go get a whiskey from the hidden stash the Captain kept in the Rec-Room next to the barracks.

As the Rebels Blitzkrieg the base, Agent Stan slips off into the pre-dawn shadows to hunker down out of the crossfire while Agent Sandy creeps up on Sgt. Bird in her Thermoptic Camouflage armor and cloak and commences a dizzying assault of high-speed blurring Hyper-vibrational, Mono-molecular-edged whip attacks on the patrolling trooper while he stands, momentarily agape at the ruin of his base in so few seconds. His blood sprays out in frozen droplets from his depressurizing body-armor and clatters like gravel on the stones and sand of the Martian desert. Unable to pinpoint the location of his near-invisible assailant, he opens up with his standard issue Battle Rifle and hoses down the general area with hypersonic tungsten core rounds, blazing lines from staggered tracer ammo showing that the bulletstorm is soaring off across the martian landscape, finding nothing solid.