The Tigers are Born.

This is a small story about how inspirational leadership doesn't have to come from a high ranking officer...

Sgt. Torge (pronounced Tor-gay) stood on the edge of the cliff and pondered on what he saw below. Amongst all the natural outcrops and local flora, there was a host of metallic shapes and pallets, with Bohkin and their attendant species bustling about in between them. It was clear that they hadn’t been planet side for long because they were still busy erecting bio-spheres and hab-domes. All around was the hustle and bustle of making camp and preparing defences. Torge could make out the beginnings of bunkers and defensive positions and he noticed that there were a large number of Bohkin standing guard amongst the organised chaos going on around them. In his mind he was noting the positions of each group of guards and where the best cover was. He also noticed the raggedy looking Bohkin who tended the livestock pens; those pens that contained the food and the Dino-hounds that always accompanied the Bohkin on these sorts of expeditions. He made sure he had fixed their positions as well; he wasn’t a fan of the Dino-hounds as they were a nightmare to dispatch at close quarters. He was hoping to keep them in their pens.
‘Torge!’ there was a shout from behind; far too loud for the situation.
Torge ducked quickly so as not to be seen and crawled over to where the voice had come from.
‘Sir, you need to keep your voice down,’ he said ‘you’ll give us away!’
‘Ha! You treat these beasts as equals!’ said Lieutenant Sturmwulf ‘get off your knees and prepare your squad for battle’.
‘Yes sir’ Torge replied ‘do you want to know where the hot spots will be?’
‘Hot-spots?’ Came a bemused reply ‘we will reap them like corn…there will be no resistance!’
‘So be it’ said Torge as he saluted and left to muster his squad ‘the Grymn’s an arse’ he said under his breath as he went.
A little way back from the lip of the cliff, Torge’s squad was gathered. They were all armoured in the standard tan plate but their shoulders, helms and jump-packs were orange with black tiger stripes; Torge’s Tigers, one and all. Torge was similarly attired but for his white plates instead of the orange ones; befitting his rank as squad leader.
‘Sarge, what’s the verdict?’ asked Ana, a red-headed girl whose temper was as fiery as her hair.
‘The Grymn’s an arse!’ replied Torge.
‘Tell us something we don’t know!’ Said Antar, as he hefted his grenade launcher into a more comfortable position.
‘What’s the plan?’ asked Pjotir.
‘Oh, the plan…’ teased Torge ‘gather round and I’ll tell you’.
After a quick briefing, the Tigers gathered up their weapons, checked their equipment and prepared for the coming assault. The call went out (rather too loudly in Torge’s mind) for the squadron to gather and they all met near the edge of the cliff. There was a motley mix of different squads; all with different markings and paint schemes (there was no unity in the squadron and it was something that Torge hated…it seemed more like a gentleGrymn’s club than a military unit) and Sturmwulf was at the front of them.
‘Gather round!’ Bawled Sturmwulf ‘the enemy is down there and we are up here…well?...fire up and let’s get going!’
With that, Sturmwulf and his squad of Scarlets fired their jump-packs and had leaped over the edge, into the Bohkin camp.
‘That fething idiot is going to get us all killed!’ stormed Torge ‘quickly, before the surprise is gone!’
As one, Torge’s Tigers fired up and launched into the fray; closely followed by the rest of the squadron. Below them, in the canyon there was chaos as the Bohkin started gathering their wits under the initial, ill advised assault of the lead squad. The incoming fire was far too accurate and Torge cursed Sturmwulf for his arrogance. He could see that the idiot and his squad were blasting away at everything that moved without any form of plan or idea of tactics. He could also see that they were being whittled down and needed help.
‘WITH ME!’ shouted Torge ‘the boss is in trouble!’
The Tigers leapt after him as he raced towards the stricken lieutenant.
‘Form a perimeter and give covering fire!’ ordered Torge ‘Ana, take Alun and guard the dino-pens…I don’t want them coming out to play!’
‘Yes Boss!’ grinned Ana as she and Alun launched over to the pens, felling Bohkin with every well aimed shot.
‘What are you doing?’ cried Sturmwulf ‘you’re spoiling the hunt!’
‘The hunt, sir?’ Torge stared in disbelief at the lieutenant ‘I had no idea that you were as blind as you have become!’
As Sturmwulf stared madly at Torge, the Sgt spun on his heels and caught the lieutenant on the jaw with the base of his assault pistol. As he dropped to the floor Torge looked down at him…
‘It’s for your own good.’
From that moment on, it was a blur of fighting and swirling melee. Both sides fought well but the Grymn soon got the upper hand under Torge’s leadership and they eventually destroyed the Bohkin utterly. Even the livestock was killed and everything was burned. The Grymn then called in the casevac units and began bagging the fallen. It was not a pleasant task and Torge knew that there wouldn’t have been as many if the lieutenant hadn’t been such a fool.
Speaking of the lieutenant, he was in custody awaiting the arrival of captain Torsten.
It wasn’t long before Torsten arrived and Torge was called to answer for his crime; assaulting an officer was a serious offense, with a severe penalty. Seniority was almost revered in Grymn society and its armed forces were no exception.
‘I never thought I’d be asking this of you, Torge’ said Torsten ‘but what do you have to say for yourself?’
‘I saw no option but to relieve the lieutenant from duty due to his foolhardy and reckless disregard for the welfare of his troops’ said Torge and he went on to explain what happened during the pre assault planning and the assault itself.
Torsten listened carefully, questioning where he needed to and summed up what had happened.
‘I will go as far to say that you have behaved in a manner that goes against the prime directives of our martial code.’ Torsten stared grimly at Torge as he spoke. ‘Furthermore, you behaved in a dishonourable way that goes against what civilised society would deem acceptable’. The stare continued. ‘It is my judgement that you are guilty of assaulting an officer and taking over command of his squadron…also known as mutiny.’
Torsten called up a provost officer and said ‘relieve the Sgt of his rank’. Torge’s heart sank as the officer removed the stripes from his shoulder pad. With equal tone in his voice, Torsten addressed the gathered Grymn…
‘For the crime of assaulting a senior officer and committing mutiny, Torge will no longer hold the rank of Sgt.’ Torsten continued ‘for his noble act of duty to the Grymn army and, without thought for his personal honour, the successful commandeering and leadership of a squadron of ill prepared assault troops, he will now be referred to as Lieutenant Torge and will hold all the responsibilities and duties that the rank entails.’
Torsten continued ‘lieutenant Sturmwulf has been relieved of duty and is currently under medical care in the sanatorium. He had seen one too many battles and is unlikely to ever take to the field again.’

Torge stood on the edge of the cliff and viewed the scene below. The Bohkin camp was well prepared; the defenses were in place and were manned to the correct levels. He watched as the guards scanned the area for hostiles and patrolled the perimeter. He noted the positions of the Dino-hound pens and where all the support weapons were held. He noted areas of the best cover and where fire-arcs would be the best. He sniffed the air and tested the wind direction before turning around to see Ana, Alun, Antar and Thor standing a few yards away looking at him.
‘So, what’s the verdict, sir?’ said Thor as he looked down at his officer.
Torge looked up into the OGrymn’s face and smiled…
‘The camp is well defended and well drilled’ he said ‘they will be a good test of our mettle’.
‘Ana’ he said ‘gather the Tigers and prepare them for a briefing.’
‘Yes sir’ she said as she turned and walked towards the gaggle of white shouldered Tigers that were gathered a few yards away. After the Sgts had been briefed, Torge looked over at his squadron and smiled. There were over a hundred Grymn, all equipped in the standard tan plate armour. They all had orange shoulder-pads, helms and jump-packs decorated with black tiger stripes. They were all led by the white padded Sgts of their squads and they were all trained to react instantly to the orders they received. He walked forwards as the Sgts gathered their squads into parade ground lines, using hand signals rather than vocal commands. He stood to the front of the parade and speaking quietly, he addressed them all.
‘Your Sgt’s are well briefed, your weapons are loaded, and you are filled with the spirit of battle so you will not fail.’ Torge continued ‘together we will clean the filth from the gully…prepare your weapons, we launch in two.’
The sound of muffled weapons being prepared was barely audible as the squads fanned out along the cliff edge in preparation for the assault. Everyone knew their objective and everyone was eager to achieve it.
‘Tigers!’ said Torge to the barely restrained mass of troops ‘fire up and get your claws out!’
As one, the Tigers fired their jump-packs and as they launched into the air Thor shouted in his booming, OGrymn voice…
‘WHOSE TIGERS?’
The reply was a deafening roar that filled the valley with sound…
‘TORGE’S TIGERS!’
And death fell upon the Bohkin…