Post by EmperorMyric on Mar 22, 2021 15:39:25 GMT
"Here they come! Up, up you cyka, here they come!" screamed sergeant Yuriy Klament. This squad had been huddling in their foxhole outside of the now-accursed city known as Ob, taking cover from the screaming artillery overhead and the pounding, hammering rain as they spit up blood and felt their flesh burn from within. They were Restevians, and they were soldiers of the 91st Krondshtant, the Walking Ghosts. The artillery continued to unrelentingly pound in the distance and they could see their own fire screaming overhead in long streaks of light, but it wasn't coming to aid them now.
All around the sounds of battle beat out savage drums as the ten-man squad scrambled for their rifles, their launchers, all they could grab, scrambling from their holes hacked from the hardscrabble dirt of this hated world to face the hordes of hell come for them all. Klament leaped to the side of the VK-450 heavy rotary and snapped back the bolt handle of the AK, looking out into the rain and seeing the Capitol forces coming for them. Mechanized, vehicles and infantry, and far, far too many. Jackon and Nat jumped on the gun, the faces of both soldiers twisted by the pain of their slow creeping death. But they were not afraid. Klament howled orders as the rest of the soldiers, including a hulking Karokalian, took up their positions behind the sandbags they'd been able to set up and their slit trenches. Ten men and women against a full company with vehicles and Gods only knew what else. It was suicide, but the Restevians were not afraid. What did dead men walking have to fear?
The Capitol forces opened up at a kilometer away, their IFVs filling the air with tracers and flame from their cannons. The squad braced for impact, but death did not yet have her gunsights upon them as the shells flew over their heads.
"They're firing on the tanks behind us!" Jakon roared to be heard over the battle, rain streaming down his helmet and face.
"I noticed toravich, hold your fucking fire until they're closer!" Klament snarled in reply.
"Da!"
The Restevian soldiers hunkered down in their cover and clutched tight to their weapons, the entire world shaking and rattling as the Capitol IFVs fired and the tanks returned fire. Explosions bloomed as IFVs were hit and came apart under the force of the RSC armor's 140 millimeters, but for every IFV that died the advance did not slow and there was simply too many for the advance to stop. On and on the enemy advance ground, closing the distance along inexorable tracks through the rain-lashed desert. Kalment had to pull off his mask in the midst of the rain of light and rain of water, vomiting blood and bile onto the muddy ground before pulling his mask back on, clutching his rifle and staring through his HUD at the advancing enemy. Two hundred meters... then one fifty. More and more IFVs and other vehicles were falling prey to the tanks, but so too were the tanks beginning to fall prey to lucky shots with heavier weapons and artillery fire. And all Klament had were his ten, doomed to die in agony if not here and now.
And then at ninety meters, when through the rain Klament could see the outlines of the enemy infantry he flicked onto his tactical squad net.
"Open fire!" he howled, and the three troopers armed with AT launchers opened this battle with streaks of fire and roaring rockets. Three IFVs erupted in fire, having been tracked in the case of the first, or outright disabled in the case of the other two. Jakon gripped the triggers of the VK and screamed out a battlecry, and with water sheeting from the barrels as they spun the tongue of fire erupted. Tracers lashed out in a stream as casings cascaded from the breech and Capitol troopers began falling. They fell in small groups and then more as the Restevian soldiers opened fire with their rifles, howling defiance and anger. The return fire came in, bullets filling the air around them as the enemy began to charge across the open ground, using wrecked vehicles as cover as they leapfrogged towards the trench. A round nicked off of Klament's helmet with an angry buzz, another hissing past his head. He pulled the trigger and sent another burst down range, dropping another enemy soldier as to one side of him five rifles sang a rage-filled song, and on the other the HMG screamed and spun with the barrels glowing red-hot already. A round slammed into a trooper named Kerran down the line, flooring the man before he staggered up with even more blood running down their face. Gods that wasn't good.
"Medic!" Klament howled.
"We don't fucking have one!" came the response.
"Chyort! Keep shooting, keep shooting!"
"Fuck fuck FUCK!"
"What?!"
The answer came in the form of a howl of pain as the trooper third down the line suddenly went down with a launcher grenade embedded in his chestplate. The howl became a panicked shriek as the trooper in a rush tried to pull the explosive from his chestplate and then suddenly there was nothing but red mist and gore. Shrapnel embedded itself in the armor of every man around the poor unfortunate, and blood splattered on everyone within three meters.
"Ivak is gone!" went the call.
"Keep fucking shooting, damnit! Don't let his death go unanswered!"
"URRRRAAAAA!"
Already there were close to thirty dead Capitol soldiers on the open field between them and the enemy advance, but there were even more coming. The Restevians reloaded as enemy fire howled around them, popping up to fire the launchers on their rifles into the charging enemy. The Capitol troopers moved with purpose, but out beyond the line of their vehicles and with those still alive still engaging the Restevian tanks there was little cover if any between them and the squad's position. So they charged as fast as they possibly could, firing as they came. Another trooper died, a trio of rounds slamming into their chest and head with such rapidity that they dropped without a sound. Forty meters out, the Capitol troops were, now, and they were closing rapidly.
The sound of a thirty millimeter snarled out over the screaming roar of the VK, and just like that Nat was shorn nearly in half by the explosion that struck her in the side. Jakon screamed out, but the next explosion from the Capitol IFV's fire took his left leg off below the knee. With part of what supported his armored weight take so savagely, Jakon went down to the side and set the VK off target. They could not lose that gun! Klament dumped the rest of his mag into an enemy fireteam and leaped to Jakon, pulling a crate filled with unused mines over and shoving it under the ragged stump of Jakon's leg. The gunner screamed in pain, but with gritted teeth he nodded to Klament and carried on like grim death. The barrels were glowing even brighter now and the rounds were scattering over the entire battlefield, but still Capitol soldiers were falling. Twenty meters, and while the enemy were falling in great numbers there were still, far, far many more than there were Restevians. Another trooper went down critically wounded, pushing themselves up to raise their rifle before going down again, this time dead with a round to their throat. Another reload, and the Restevians kept fighting. There were just too many, far too many enemy soldiers to take down, and now with the IFVs in the battle and ignoring the tanks there was just no way.
But like hell they were going to go without a fight. Klament kept firing until the Capitol soldiers were rearing up at him over the sandbags, and he tossed away his rifle to draw his S-1 and his Varjag. The enemy soldier leaped into the trench with a snarled praise to Inara, drawing their own automatic and combat blade. Klament shot the bastard between the eyes, but then another came over the edge of the trench, and then another. The howl of an angered Karokalian warrior was heard as the huge saurian drew their sword, ripping into the Capitol soldiers engaging them. Automatic pistol fire was answered by the slam of the Restevian's heavy sidearms, and monoedged blades hissed through the air as those still living fought like animals to bring the enemy down, as many of them as was possible. Jakon fired and fired and fired for as long as he was able, blowing charging Capitol soldiers to horrifically shredded chunks of meat until he was physically pulled off of it by enemy soldiers surrounding them. With one leg he could not stand, but he drew his sidearm and began firing wildly, screaming curses and rage at the enemy surrounding an pressing in. Klament glanced over at the Karokalian as he ripped his sabre through the throat of a Capitol sergeant, beholding the saurian being dogpiled by what looked like ten hostiles, and despite that they still fought like a demon, tearing another enemy in half with their sword before the constant stabbing of the hostiles bore them down beneath combined numbers. They died with praises to the Karokalian's Song of War upon their lips, fighting to the end. A blade was rammed into Klament's stomach through the softer sections of his armor, and he emptied the mag of his pistol into the enemy before collapsing to his knees.
"Jakon!" he howled. "Jakon, fucking do it! Blow it!"
Another Capitol soldier charged Klament, and a burst of automatic pistol fire silenced the sergeant forever. Jakon stabbed his combat knife into the ankle of the nearest enemy holding him down, and with the trench soaked in blood and viscera of the dead and dying there was nothing else for it. The position was lost. Reaching up to the switch that would detonate the charges meant to stop a Capitol armored advance, but now they were the pyre of these Walking Ghosts. With a scream of defiance, Jakon fired his sidearm into three Capitol soldiers and didn't even wait to see if they went down before he slammed the switch.
The world went white.
And then there was no more pain.
All around the sounds of battle beat out savage drums as the ten-man squad scrambled for their rifles, their launchers, all they could grab, scrambling from their holes hacked from the hardscrabble dirt of this hated world to face the hordes of hell come for them all. Klament leaped to the side of the VK-450 heavy rotary and snapped back the bolt handle of the AK, looking out into the rain and seeing the Capitol forces coming for them. Mechanized, vehicles and infantry, and far, far too many. Jackon and Nat jumped on the gun, the faces of both soldiers twisted by the pain of their slow creeping death. But they were not afraid. Klament howled orders as the rest of the soldiers, including a hulking Karokalian, took up their positions behind the sandbags they'd been able to set up and their slit trenches. Ten men and women against a full company with vehicles and Gods only knew what else. It was suicide, but the Restevians were not afraid. What did dead men walking have to fear?
The Capitol forces opened up at a kilometer away, their IFVs filling the air with tracers and flame from their cannons. The squad braced for impact, but death did not yet have her gunsights upon them as the shells flew over their heads.
"They're firing on the tanks behind us!" Jakon roared to be heard over the battle, rain streaming down his helmet and face.
"I noticed toravich, hold your fucking fire until they're closer!" Klament snarled in reply.
"Da!"
The Restevian soldiers hunkered down in their cover and clutched tight to their weapons, the entire world shaking and rattling as the Capitol IFVs fired and the tanks returned fire. Explosions bloomed as IFVs were hit and came apart under the force of the RSC armor's 140 millimeters, but for every IFV that died the advance did not slow and there was simply too many for the advance to stop. On and on the enemy advance ground, closing the distance along inexorable tracks through the rain-lashed desert. Kalment had to pull off his mask in the midst of the rain of light and rain of water, vomiting blood and bile onto the muddy ground before pulling his mask back on, clutching his rifle and staring through his HUD at the advancing enemy. Two hundred meters... then one fifty. More and more IFVs and other vehicles were falling prey to the tanks, but so too were the tanks beginning to fall prey to lucky shots with heavier weapons and artillery fire. And all Klament had were his ten, doomed to die in agony if not here and now.
And then at ninety meters, when through the rain Klament could see the outlines of the enemy infantry he flicked onto his tactical squad net.
"Open fire!" he howled, and the three troopers armed with AT launchers opened this battle with streaks of fire and roaring rockets. Three IFVs erupted in fire, having been tracked in the case of the first, or outright disabled in the case of the other two. Jakon gripped the triggers of the VK and screamed out a battlecry, and with water sheeting from the barrels as they spun the tongue of fire erupted. Tracers lashed out in a stream as casings cascaded from the breech and Capitol troopers began falling. They fell in small groups and then more as the Restevian soldiers opened fire with their rifles, howling defiance and anger. The return fire came in, bullets filling the air around them as the enemy began to charge across the open ground, using wrecked vehicles as cover as they leapfrogged towards the trench. A round nicked off of Klament's helmet with an angry buzz, another hissing past his head. He pulled the trigger and sent another burst down range, dropping another enemy soldier as to one side of him five rifles sang a rage-filled song, and on the other the HMG screamed and spun with the barrels glowing red-hot already. A round slammed into a trooper named Kerran down the line, flooring the man before he staggered up with even more blood running down their face. Gods that wasn't good.
"Medic!" Klament howled.
"We don't fucking have one!" came the response.
"Chyort! Keep shooting, keep shooting!"
"Fuck fuck FUCK!"
"What?!"
The answer came in the form of a howl of pain as the trooper third down the line suddenly went down with a launcher grenade embedded in his chestplate. The howl became a panicked shriek as the trooper in a rush tried to pull the explosive from his chestplate and then suddenly there was nothing but red mist and gore. Shrapnel embedded itself in the armor of every man around the poor unfortunate, and blood splattered on everyone within three meters.
"Ivak is gone!" went the call.
"Keep fucking shooting, damnit! Don't let his death go unanswered!"
"URRRRAAAAA!"
Already there were close to thirty dead Capitol soldiers on the open field between them and the enemy advance, but there were even more coming. The Restevians reloaded as enemy fire howled around them, popping up to fire the launchers on their rifles into the charging enemy. The Capitol troopers moved with purpose, but out beyond the line of their vehicles and with those still alive still engaging the Restevian tanks there was little cover if any between them and the squad's position. So they charged as fast as they possibly could, firing as they came. Another trooper died, a trio of rounds slamming into their chest and head with such rapidity that they dropped without a sound. Forty meters out, the Capitol troops were, now, and they were closing rapidly.
The sound of a thirty millimeter snarled out over the screaming roar of the VK, and just like that Nat was shorn nearly in half by the explosion that struck her in the side. Jakon screamed out, but the next explosion from the Capitol IFV's fire took his left leg off below the knee. With part of what supported his armored weight take so savagely, Jakon went down to the side and set the VK off target. They could not lose that gun! Klament dumped the rest of his mag into an enemy fireteam and leaped to Jakon, pulling a crate filled with unused mines over and shoving it under the ragged stump of Jakon's leg. The gunner screamed in pain, but with gritted teeth he nodded to Klament and carried on like grim death. The barrels were glowing even brighter now and the rounds were scattering over the entire battlefield, but still Capitol soldiers were falling. Twenty meters, and while the enemy were falling in great numbers there were still, far, far many more than there were Restevians. Another trooper went down critically wounded, pushing themselves up to raise their rifle before going down again, this time dead with a round to their throat. Another reload, and the Restevians kept fighting. There were just too many, far too many enemy soldiers to take down, and now with the IFVs in the battle and ignoring the tanks there was just no way.
But like hell they were going to go without a fight. Klament kept firing until the Capitol soldiers were rearing up at him over the sandbags, and he tossed away his rifle to draw his S-1 and his Varjag. The enemy soldier leaped into the trench with a snarled praise to Inara, drawing their own automatic and combat blade. Klament shot the bastard between the eyes, but then another came over the edge of the trench, and then another. The howl of an angered Karokalian warrior was heard as the huge saurian drew their sword, ripping into the Capitol soldiers engaging them. Automatic pistol fire was answered by the slam of the Restevian's heavy sidearms, and monoedged blades hissed through the air as those still living fought like animals to bring the enemy down, as many of them as was possible. Jakon fired and fired and fired for as long as he was able, blowing charging Capitol soldiers to horrifically shredded chunks of meat until he was physically pulled off of it by enemy soldiers surrounding them. With one leg he could not stand, but he drew his sidearm and began firing wildly, screaming curses and rage at the enemy surrounding an pressing in. Klament glanced over at the Karokalian as he ripped his sabre through the throat of a Capitol sergeant, beholding the saurian being dogpiled by what looked like ten hostiles, and despite that they still fought like a demon, tearing another enemy in half with their sword before the constant stabbing of the hostiles bore them down beneath combined numbers. They died with praises to the Karokalian's Song of War upon their lips, fighting to the end. A blade was rammed into Klament's stomach through the softer sections of his armor, and he emptied the mag of his pistol into the enemy before collapsing to his knees.
"Jakon!" he howled. "Jakon, fucking do it! Blow it!"
Another Capitol soldier charged Klament, and a burst of automatic pistol fire silenced the sergeant forever. Jakon stabbed his combat knife into the ankle of the nearest enemy holding him down, and with the trench soaked in blood and viscera of the dead and dying there was nothing else for it. The position was lost. Reaching up to the switch that would detonate the charges meant to stop a Capitol armored advance, but now they were the pyre of these Walking Ghosts. With a scream of defiance, Jakon fired his sidearm into three Capitol soldiers and didn't even wait to see if they went down before he slammed the switch.
The world went white.
And then there was no more pain.