Post by EmperorMyric on Dec 17, 2017 13:30:20 GMT
Like dying flies, one by one the Singaporean dropships and incursion pods were swatted from trajectory by the violent ion strikes and massive AA fire coming from before, spinning out of control and crashing onto the planet surface; scattered craters and the shallow trenches from it as the wreckages finally come to rest. Some erupted into flames immediately thereafter, the leaking fiery mist of blue plasma trailing off carried by the wind.
The battle was just getting started.
Singaporean soldiers hopped out from the bodies of the dropships and came quickly under fire from the rebel forces who had popped out from the hills and initiated the swift strike on the disoriented survivors. A number recoiled back as lasers and high velocity bullets pushed their bodies back and tore them apart, while the rest immediately leaped for cover behind the wrecks. Few soldiers struggled to keep their heads down as they were trying to salvage whatever equipment they could recover from the bellies of the dropships; collecting all the small arms, explosives and supplies still fit to be used. Even rocket pods, autocannons and machine guns were dismounted hopefully to be able to turn the tide of the ambush. At first it seemed hopeless...until someone found a battered and dirtied flag in one of the dropship holds and a few others found some sniper rifles from mangled bodies of a recon team.
The flag bearer raised the war torn flag high and charged himself with all the fiery patriotism he could muster. Shouting war slogans and patriotic quotes, he struggled to inspire the fighting spirit of the Singaporean military collective, as his voice was being drowned in the sounds of rifle cracks and bullet hisses, the thumps of artillery, the 'swoosh' of rockets and the shrill bass of explosions on the battlefield and the cries of anger and agony from both sides; the rebels attacking from the snow hills and the Singaporeans struggling to fend off their ambush. Noticing the passion within their ranks, the Singaporeans replenished their resolve and more and more bravely returned fire back at the surrounding rebels. Making quick rifle shots and swift machine gun bursts, the rebels found themselves suppressed by continuous accurate fire. The new snipers formed up firing ranks, and picked off rebels with heavy weaponry as well as any mortar teams that were in sight. The tide was turning.
"Together! We will kill them all! Defend Singapura!"
The flag, fluttering triumphant in the air, led the counter-attack. The bearer, in his frenzy of combat stress, adrenaline and national pride, leaped forward at the front and made a suicidal charge at the enemy while shouting his war cries. Mounting their bayonets and holding machetes in their hands, the rest hopped out of cover and ran for the hills where the rebels were; with their angry cries carrying them forward in the face of a very certain death. A few stayed behind, mounting machine guns and along with the snipers, kept the rebels under suppressive fire whilst they charge into enemy lines.
The rebels looked up, only to see a wave of olive green and red coming for them like bulls. They frantically brought up their weapons, hoping they could cut all of them down before-
Too late.
The Singaporeans appeared in front of them before the machine guns could cut them down, crashing down with their bayonets and machetes. Cutting away at the rebel lines, few of them attempted to retreat, but only so few lucky ones could as the rest were forcibly dragged back by the enraged and crazed Singaporeans, subsequently pulverized brutally to death by their fists, rifle butts and even helmets. Finished with them, the Singaporeans reorganized their murderous mess back into proper firing lines of three, retreating to positions behind the cover of the hill. From there, they fired upon the mortar teams and auxiliary rebel forces further up from the hill. A short firefight involving a exchange of lasers and bullets ensured and the enemies were finished off. The rest, too little in number to continue, fled to regather their strength. The Singaporeans cheered as they won the battle, proving themselves resilient against all odds.
Regrouping in the middle of the perimeter created by the bodies of the dropships, the IRS soldiers gathered all the equipment and supplies they could carry with them. They looked to the skies and saw the sight. Blazing comets approached the surface and the exchange of tracers and beams lit up the atmosphere. Spotting where their comrades might be while taking in the sights, the Major leading the rag-and-tag survivors pointed to the direction where the landing zone might be and gave the call to move out. Spreading out into squads and keeping a well distance between each of them, the Singaporeans marched to the snow plains, where they were supposed to land and set up an outpost, and rekindled their nationalistic flames to brave the stinging cold that bit through their uniforms.
The battle was just getting started.
Singaporean soldiers hopped out from the bodies of the dropships and came quickly under fire from the rebel forces who had popped out from the hills and initiated the swift strike on the disoriented survivors. A number recoiled back as lasers and high velocity bullets pushed their bodies back and tore them apart, while the rest immediately leaped for cover behind the wrecks. Few soldiers struggled to keep their heads down as they were trying to salvage whatever equipment they could recover from the bellies of the dropships; collecting all the small arms, explosives and supplies still fit to be used. Even rocket pods, autocannons and machine guns were dismounted hopefully to be able to turn the tide of the ambush. At first it seemed hopeless...until someone found a battered and dirtied flag in one of the dropship holds and a few others found some sniper rifles from mangled bodies of a recon team.
The flag bearer raised the war torn flag high and charged himself with all the fiery patriotism he could muster. Shouting war slogans and patriotic quotes, he struggled to inspire the fighting spirit of the Singaporean military collective, as his voice was being drowned in the sounds of rifle cracks and bullet hisses, the thumps of artillery, the 'swoosh' of rockets and the shrill bass of explosions on the battlefield and the cries of anger and agony from both sides; the rebels attacking from the snow hills and the Singaporeans struggling to fend off their ambush. Noticing the passion within their ranks, the Singaporeans replenished their resolve and more and more bravely returned fire back at the surrounding rebels. Making quick rifle shots and swift machine gun bursts, the rebels found themselves suppressed by continuous accurate fire. The new snipers formed up firing ranks, and picked off rebels with heavy weaponry as well as any mortar teams that were in sight. The tide was turning.
"Together! We will kill them all! Defend Singapura!"
The flag, fluttering triumphant in the air, led the counter-attack. The bearer, in his frenzy of combat stress, adrenaline and national pride, leaped forward at the front and made a suicidal charge at the enemy while shouting his war cries. Mounting their bayonets and holding machetes in their hands, the rest hopped out of cover and ran for the hills where the rebels were; with their angry cries carrying them forward in the face of a very certain death. A few stayed behind, mounting machine guns and along with the snipers, kept the rebels under suppressive fire whilst they charge into enemy lines.
The rebels looked up, only to see a wave of olive green and red coming for them like bulls. They frantically brought up their weapons, hoping they could cut all of them down before-
Too late.
The Singaporeans appeared in front of them before the machine guns could cut them down, crashing down with their bayonets and machetes. Cutting away at the rebel lines, few of them attempted to retreat, but only so few lucky ones could as the rest were forcibly dragged back by the enraged and crazed Singaporeans, subsequently pulverized brutally to death by their fists, rifle butts and even helmets. Finished with them, the Singaporeans reorganized their murderous mess back into proper firing lines of three, retreating to positions behind the cover of the hill. From there, they fired upon the mortar teams and auxiliary rebel forces further up from the hill. A short firefight involving a exchange of lasers and bullets ensured and the enemies were finished off. The rest, too little in number to continue, fled to regather their strength. The Singaporeans cheered as they won the battle, proving themselves resilient against all odds.
Regrouping in the middle of the perimeter created by the bodies of the dropships, the IRS soldiers gathered all the equipment and supplies they could carry with them. They looked to the skies and saw the sight. Blazing comets approached the surface and the exchange of tracers and beams lit up the atmosphere. Spotting where their comrades might be while taking in the sights, the Major leading the rag-and-tag survivors pointed to the direction where the landing zone might be and gave the call to move out. Spreading out into squads and keeping a well distance between each of them, the Singaporeans marched to the snow plains, where they were supposed to land and set up an outpost, and rekindled their nationalistic flames to brave the stinging cold that bit through their uniforms.