Realistic or Modern Ｂｅｓｉｅｇｅｄ

[Trappy]

Valentina Luprecal

The jeeps soon fire up their engines and the wheels slowly roll down the dusty trail towards our destination. An eerie atmosphere descends, with pairs of tired, worried eyes following us as we leave the base. Somehow, I've always been under the impression that the Ambrians were a noisy and robust lot, and they really looked like one. Upon their arrival in Femos, they pacified key areas and major cities with ease, removing warlords from power and placing cities, such as Grindes, under their alliance's protection and sphere of influence. Well, I'll just keep it there. Mere militia like me wouldn't dare getting too political. Anyhow, here they are before our eyes: depressed sitting ducks entrusting their lives on our grand quest. What a twist.

The general mood, accompanied by the steaming heat of the Femosi sun has turned the air solid. Of course, that was an exaggeration, but the atmosphere certainly feels heavier, and I'm fairly certain it's not just me and my head, everyone seems agitated in a varying degree due to the heat. Shit. Without much thinking, I speak up towards the man behind the wheel.

"Brave of you today, volunteering for those Ambrians like a true chevalier. It's not like you didn't know they were in a fucked-beyond-salvation situation, we witnessed those rebels' advance." - I said half-jokingly, though it's clear Anam took it seriously, as the man gave out a tired sigh, and replied.

"I had to. We have to. It's for the best, not just for us, or for them, but for the city. For the people."

Suddenly, the incarnation of Silence itself, Sianka speaks up. You see, the man is the quiet type. He rarely speaks, if at all. But when he does, it's serious.

"Yeah, real great. We're gonna go out there and die 'for the people'. Well, excuse me, Anam, I didn't sign up to die. In fact, I signed up to do the opposite of dying."

And then Biela, riding shotgun beside Anam joins in.

"You still don't get it, do you, Sianka? Anam's got a point, we have to do this, or else we'll all die, sooner or later."


"How so? Tell us then, no point in keeping things secret. It's not like any of us will survive this damn suicide run!"

I inquired, and unknowingly added fuel into the already heating discussion. Biela turns to the backseat, and speaks directly to Sianka and myself.

"These Ambrians, they have training, guns, men, tanks, planes all over the damn region. That's what they do. And these jammers, they're what's stopping us from contacting them. Without them, how long do you think we'll last? Two weeks? Maybe three? We'll have no food, no water, no ammunition to fight these damn rebels off. Hell, right now, we don't even have enough guns!"

"Well I'd rather die then than die right now! Hell, Biela, you were always an advocate for these pig-dog invaders! You no-good boot-lickers are the very reason we're in this goddamn mess in this first place! If the Ambrians weren't in this city, then the rebels wouldn't have bothered to attack it!"

And at this point, Anam had enough.

"Just shut up! Shut the hell up, all of you! Good or bad, right or wrong, we're in this now, and it's all too late for any of us to turn back. You want out? Fine, do me a favor and throw your ass out the door. If you don't want to do that, then you listen to me, because I know what the hell I'm doing, alright? And I guarantee you, I know what I'm doing a lot better than you know what you're doing! So shut up!"

The silence returns to the jeep, and this time it's staying. Thoughts begin to gather in our minds, mostly doubts. Am I prepared to die under this guy's lead? I find myself wondering. Was this really the right thing to do? Running around with some foreigners that've got their heads prized by those rebels? But enough of this. Right now, out here, we only have each others, and Anam is our best bet. Doubts aside, I trust he knows what he is doing.

The Ambrians' jeep ahead of us suddenly pull over, and a man hops out of it. Anam pulls our jeep onto the side of the dirt road as the Ambrian man makes gestures telling us to unload and set up perimeter. Suddenly, an ear-piercing sound from high above, as if the air itself was being violently torn apart, catches everyone' attention.

 

[LoneSniper87]

Ashley Winter

"I think hell is a bit overselling it, Sergeant Woods." I said in a semi-chiding manner. "As long as these guys know where they are going, and our shots land true, I see no reason for us to fail so critically so that all of us die." I added, trying to put a positive spin on the situation. It probably didn't work. "If we got in the door here, we can make it out a few miles down the way, right?" I then asked, mainly rhetorical. "Just have faith..." I finished up, going slightly quiet as I closed my eyes, head bent down for a second.

Kabboom Velkyn Pilgrim59

 

[Trappy]

(bump Pilgrim59 Darth )

 

[Kabboom]

(bump again, read Komrade's post for the newest update Pilgrim59 Darth )

 

[Kabboom]

July 18, 2017
1510hrs
D Company's 22nd day in Grindes

Sgt. Faris Woods

We've been driving for 10 minutes now, and every single second outside of the FOB's walls feels like a minute, and every minute, an hour. And though in reality, it was just a 10-minute drive, it felt like a 10-hour trip. As our vehicles cautiously moved across the dirt roads, we could see a trail of carnage and destruction along the way, surfacing more frequently as we traveled. We passed by a patch of mostly clear forest, surrounded by 8-10 dead enemy combatants. Bullet holes everywhere. And the closer we got to our destination (wherever it was), we found more signs of conflict. Spurts of blood, trailing faintly beside the road we traveled on, probably drizzled out from one of the jeeps during our hurried retreat. Bullet casings here and there... there was no end to the evidences.

It was a bleak atmosphere, with death around every bush, beneath every patch of dirt, but the Ensign, Ashley, tried to lighten up the mood, by responding to what I said to the scout girl. Did I say it too loud? Anyway, the medic is right; if we just stay focused and don't mess up, then we might just pull this off, and possibly save Grindes from rebel occupation. If we fail, then we'll just... y'know, die. No pressure.

Speaking of which, what really was the plan here? I understand the need to get there quick, but... where do we park these damn things? We can't park them at the COPs, because those positions would surely be overrun by now, and we can't really leave anyone to guard these things, because we'll need all the help we can get. It would've been better if we had some drivers, but none of the bastards volunteered to go on this mission! But with the amount of time and manpower we had, it was a miracle we even got this far.

I drove on this path a few times before, so I remember where everything is. I think. I decide to stop at a small clearing, an intersection that branches off to all three COPs, Northwest, North, and Northeast, 200 meters before North COP. I take a breather, and announce to the guys within my jeep with two taps onto the metallic part of my door, before opening it. "Wake up, we're here. Unload and gear up."

The militiamen have also pulled over, and I try my best to tell them to get off and set up a perimeter, using my hand gestures to avoid wasting time with translation, and to avoid making any unnecessary sounds announcing our presence. Well, 3 vehicles packed full with soldiers pulling over on a dirt road isn't exactly the definition of "quiet", but it made sense at the time.

A terrible screeching noise hit my ears almost instantly afterwards, making me involuntarily shrivel up for a split second. My eyes looked up to the sky, and I spotted a streak of light go across the sky, headed towards Grindes. As I looked closer during the few seconds it was clearly visible, I realized that thing was... a jet fighter. No, not a fighter, a fighter-bomber perhaps? No, that's not it, couldn't see any weaponry on the hardpoints, but it looks familiar... A reconnaissance plane of some kind. The name will surely come to me in time.

In the meantime... we've got a job to do.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sgt. Lawrence Lambert

I sat on a hammock-bench in the medical tent, as one of the medical staff bandages my head wound. Getting clocked in the head with an artillery-propelled fireplace brick is really not good for a human being. It still hurts now and then, and as the bandages get tightened with every wrap around my head, the sharp pain has made way for the slightly-asphyxiating numbness. But hey, I'm not complaining. Compared to the other people in this tent with me, I'm completely fine.

A guy with chest bullet wounds lay next to me, with three medics working frantically to keep him awake and stable. His frantic shaking as he enters that shock-seizure state I've heard of isn't really helping the medics, and two of them are required just to hold him down, while the third one tries his best with a pair of blood-soaked tweezers to get a bullet fragment out. A woman who had her right forearm amputated because it was shot up so bad is now taking a well-earned, morphine-fueled nap on a stretcher adjacent to me, while another woman with a patch of bandages covering her bleeding left eye cries inconsolably with her remaining good eye, as she tightly hugs a recently deceased man whose right hand was only holding on to the forearm with a few tethers of muscle. I guess they had a thing with each other. But it's all gone now.

The entire tent was just filled with these sights, and to top it off, there is always someone screaming. Screams of pain, screams of anguish, of sadness. All kinds. Blood, sweat, and tears (but mostly blood) basically cover the floor now, to the point that I'm afraid of walking at a normal pace, since I might fall over from how slippery it is.

But a familiar sight entered the tent. And to my relief, the guy wasn't dead. More specifically, it's a girl, not a guy. Lieutenant Forrest. Brave girl, tough as nails, and a good leader. Still doesn't change the fact she has that piece of shrapnel stuck in her elbow. I think she stood through an entire briefing or something with those wounds, only wrapped up with a rudimentary layer of bandages. She sat down on a crate, since there were no actual proper seats left in the tent. Every stretcher, bed, table, chair, hammock was occupied by the wounded and dead.

As a medic began unwrapping her layer of bandages, I tried to initiate a conversation, though it wasn't really the best move, since the chest wound guy is still screaming from pain periodically. "Rough day, huh?" was all I was able to say, as I wasn't sure if she was in any mood to talk at all.

Pilgrim59 LoneSniper87 Trappy Darth Velkyn

 

[Velkyn]

Day 1(?) of Deployment: Approx. 1400 hours
Unwounded
Dismounting
------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roza looked at her accomplices as she climbed out of the jeep, which almost seemed designed to snag at her gear at every opportunity. Once her feet hit the dirt, she started peering through the trees that lined the roadside, or what was left of them. She held her sub-gun firmly, but kept it aimed towards the dirt on which she stood. Trying to keep her nerves calm, she scanned the remains of the fields, the fields that once were green.

"Seems cl.."

The screech of the jet drowned out the last of her statement, and for a moment she watched the black streak cross the horizon. She remained silent after it passed, scanning once more. Her mind raced, however, at what their next actions should involve. She knew that it could have spotted them, it could not have. If they assumed it did, and were too abrasive, their element of surprise was gone. Or maybe, it had already been stripped from them. She looked back towards the Sargent, she had learned to call him that. She gave him a short nod and turned back to the fields, a burnt down tank catching her eye.

"Orders?" She said, no louder than the rustling of the soldiers gear.

 

[LoneSniper87]

Ashley Winter

I roll my shoulders back as Farris knocks on the jeep, proceeding to hop out of the jeep with a quiet thud. I glance around to see everyone else, some apparently were asleep. I take a glance at Dimitri, then to the sky as a jet of some form whizzes by us, my brother probably would have told me what it was, if he was here. But I can't afford to think like that, not now at least. The scout then spoke, causing me to look her way. "Good question." I seconded, looking to Farris.

 

[Winter_Wolf]

(kay well my character's been accepted so here goes...)

Ulrich Adler

Ulrich Adler felt. Not really anything in particular, he just had his first sensory experience in...???

His eyes twitched, and then opened. It was dark, and uncomfortable, and incomprehensible. The feelings and smells were alien--though not the pain in his head. That was fairly easy to comprehend. He rubbed it as his eyes darted all around in the darkness. Which way was up? Which way was any given direction? Although he was no doctor, he was also knew what it meant when the sound of his heart was beginning to reverberate through the dark, frightening place. Or at least it started to reverberate through his body.

"Scheisse," he breathed, as he banged his head on something. He wiggled his limbs and body and came to realize that he was closed in somewhere.

I'm trapped! Am I a prisoner?

Am I dead?
I've been buried alive!
I hit my head on the top of the coffin. I'm in a coffin.

Any thought seemed as good an explanation as any, but that had to be it--Ulrich Adler had been buried alive. He had no clue where, why, how but it made his head hurt more.

"Okay okay okay...HELP!--AGH--HELP!!" he repeated, both trying to calm and focus himself, and potentially attract anyone who could dig him out.

As he yelled, he banged on the object above his head, the one he banged before. It...didn't seem like the top of a coffin...why would there be a rough wooden beam if it were a coffin? And he came to realize that he wasn't packed into anything like a wooden box. Adler successfully dislodged the beam. Dust came down on him once he moved it, and he heard stuff rustling, but suddenly there was light!

The small shaft of light and the scene it revealed almost confused him more than it answered any questions. Adler could see an MG-3 machine gun on a dirt floor, surrounded and covered by random debris, as well as an entrenching tool. He remembered that they were his--I dug in, I guess. Where? The answer, if there was one, was going to be topside, so that's where he tried to go.

Something was blocking his legs. Adler tried to force himself, twisting several inches before the debris shifted. Suddenly he felt an intense pressure on his leg. It was as if a monster was trying to stop him from escaping its lair. He clenched his teeth and grunted as he dug and pried himself out. His fingers, particularly the knuckles, looked like ivory horns surrounding the handle of the entrenching tool. Finally he was able to make his escape. Ulrich Adler emerged from the lair. He stuck the buttstock of the machine gun into the ground and used it to support himself while the pain in his leg subsided.

Adler was still about as clueless now as he had been in this new life of his. He looked back and indeed, there was a pile of rubble from what used to be a small structure. Tiny bits and pieces started to come back in his throbbing brain. He was at an outpost, but it wasn't right. Nobody seemed to be around...and--"Mein götter!" he muttered. There were several bodies of soldiers lying around and no obvious explanation as to who did it, in Adler's mind. He slung the machine gun on his shoulder, and reattached the tool to his gear.

Just in time--he wasn't alone. Two men with guns approached from behind and to the left. Ulrich Adler turned around blankly, and his eyes met with one of the gunmen. Evidently both parties were just as surprised to see the other, and in such an awkward manner.

BANG BANG! - Adler almost felt as if he was regaining a part of himself as two rounds sailed past him.

BLAAART! - Adler pulled the trigger on his MG-3 for a second, and several 7.62 mm rounds sliced through the gunman; then he ducked behind the nearest cover. More rounds came in, more MG rounds went out--but he didn't want to stick around.

He started running in the opposite direction as best he could.

 

[Trappy]

Valentina Luprecal

We dismount and set up a thin perimeter near the dirt trail to the Ambrian's gesture. The jet seems to have put everyone on edge, eyes are peeled and minds focused. The talks and arguments have died, leaving only the occasional rustle of the leaves from nearby patches of trees. We don't really want to make any unnecessary noises either, seeing that the rebels have overran Ambrian posts here and there, and for all we know they'll be swarming over that hill over there any time now. But I mean, we weren't really all that quiet so far, for all that matters.

Right, I joked. I'm not trying to be pessimistic or anything. God, I hope I didn't jinx it for the gang. But for real, that Ambrian guy best know what he's doin-

BANG BANG!
BLAAART!

"Wha-!"

The sudden sound down one of the branches of the intersection causes everyone to recoil. We all jump to the nearest cover: the jeeps, some conveniently placed rocks, etc. My eyes scan the tree-lines and the hills. It must be really getting to my head, the heat. At times, I thought I saw something, aimed down my Sterling and all that, but in the end, it's just tree, some tall grass moving to the wind, some nameless shadows. Our entire unit is put on highest alert.

I wonder what that was. If my head is still good and my ears weren't bamboozling me, those sounds were more than one weapon firing. Rebels throwing random shots? Target-practice? Or allies? I figure it's not that unlikely. The Ambrians hustled when they were abandoning the outposts, what are the chances they left their people behind?

Either way, I intend to find out.

"I'll check it out." - I said to Anam, before moving down the direction of the gunfire, keeping my head low in the process, my Sterling ready. I think the man tried to pull me back, but he slipped, making a funny noise behind me as I dash off.

 

[Kabboom]

July 18, 2017
1512hrs
D Company's 22nd day in Grindes

Sgt. Faris Woods

The dust settles in the aftermath of the jet passing by, its booming engine now a faint echo, with its distinct burning, crackling, electrifying, whatever-the-fuck hell noise providing a fitting soundtrack for our descent into the belly of the beast. I didn't think the damn thing would fly that low.

I looked around. Everyone's dismounted, and our vehicles are as secure as they can possibly be in this situation we've volunteered ourselves into. The scout, Roza, wishes to know what orders I now have, seconded by the medic. I turn to them, and speak up. "Alright. We're 200 meters from North COP. The militia will guide us through the terrain up to that position, and then we'll visually scout things out, see what tricks the Femosi have up their sleeve. After that, we'll--"

My little rushed briefing was cut short by a few gunshots, followed by a split second of... what sounds like buzzing. Wait. I know that sound. That's an Eisenlander weapon. I know there was, like, a detachment of Eisenlanders stationed near our COP, but I thought they either got out, or were wiped out. Is one still alive? Or worse, is it the enemy? It's gotta be the enemy, how the hell would one of our guys still be alive? But if it's the enemy, then what are they shooting at? Oh, who cares, they're rebels, they don't need a reason or a justified target to shoot, besides, it's a fun weapon! Oh shit oh shit oh shit what do I do what do I do-

Suddenly, the leader of the militiamen, Anam, tripped, emitting a quick yelp as his ass landed on the dirt, snapping my train of thought. I looked forward, and there was this... girl, who was running directly at the origin of the gunshots. Damn civ-soldiers! Can't trust them with orders, let alone a gun! No no no, this will ruin everything! Our element of surprise! Unless... we go now. No, that's suicide! Well to be honest, this whole mission already is suicide, there's no point in deciding to die now or later. There is a point, goddammit, if we die now, then we can't fuck the jammers up, then everyone will die! We have to die later, dammit!

And before I knew it, my legs have already gone into full sprint, dashing after the foolish girl. I knew this wasn't the right thing to do. But I can't bring my body to a stop. I've got to stop this girl, and I have to stop her now. She can't fuck this up for us. I forbid her!

I move my mouth to yell at her, telling her to stop. But it seems that an enemy bullet has nailed the point home quicker than my words can. A round of 7.62 crackles past my right ear, as I quickly reacted and hit the dirt. An enemy patrol! The damn girl fucked it! She fucked it! God-fucking-dammit!

"Contact! We got fucking contact! Plan B! Push through these guys!" I yell back to the main bulk of my men, who are just 15-20 meters behind me, before holding my gun up to fire a burst of blind fire, forcing the unseen threat into cover, ceasing their gunfire. Using the lull in the amount of lead coming my direction, I peek out behind my cover to assess the situation.

With the valuable amount of time I had to peek, I spotted 5 Femosi rebels, wearing an assorted amount of clothing, from civilian shirts and pants, to some cheap excuse of a military camouflage. 3 of them have AKs, and are taking cover behind a pair of oak trees, while another one with a Mosin-Nagant seeks unseen cover behind a patch of bushes, with the last rebel holding a meager TT-33 in his hand as he drops into a dip in the ground, with an M79 grenade launcher on his back, secured with a loose strap.

And I appeared to spot another silhouette, one in the distance, wearing what appears to be... an Eisenlander uniform. I tried to get a closer look at the guy, but then a 7.62 round snaps very close to my face, violently ripping apart the thin twigs of grass around me. I crawl quickly to the base of a small tree, barely big enough for me to lie flat behind and not get shot.

It's go time. If we don't push through these guys quick, this mission will be over before it even starts.

Pilgrim59 LoneSniper87 Trappy Darth Velkyn

 

[Winter_Wolf]

(I hope I'm not jumping the shark/rushing the situation by posting this only a couple of posts after my first! But I got a bunch of inspiration to write just now. If it's too quick maybe I could delete this, and alter and repost it after others have posted)

Ulrich Adler

Ulrich Adler vaulted over a downed tree lying in his path. Or at the least, he climbed over it with haste. The weight of his body, gear, machine gun, and ammunition focused on his already-hurting leg as he hit the other side. It hurt, but not a lot necessarily--he was focusing too much on trying to survive and understand the situation to acknowledge it fully. The same could be said for the shock and vibration of his MG-3, for he fired a few bursts over the tree at those following him.

And then there was something else to comprehend and focus on--he heard gunfire coming from the opposite direction, on his side of the tree. He realized that there were quite a few men with guns in the area. There seemed to be more appearing every moment and he had no clue which was which because they looked different. He didn't recognize any with the same kind of uniform he was wearing, but...

There--a little ways away, there were some soldiers. Adler didn't recognize their dress either, and it wasn't like his. But that didn't seem to matter very much given that they appeared to be shooting at guys that were like the ones trying to kill him.

"The enemy of my enemy," Adler thought, "will hopefully be my friend...." He looked back at the soldiers in the distance--the apparent enemies of his apparent enemy--with a furrowed brow. One of them seemed to look at Adler, so Adler gave an awkward wave, and cut the air in front of him, in the soldier's direction. He was going to push towards them.

He knew that he should recall what army this soldier was from, but couldn't. His hand emerged from his pocket with a shell casing and his fingers flipped it around a couple times before putting it away. He didn't know why it was in his pocket either, but some part of him must have. Ulrich Adler was confident that he'd figure everything out--just as soon as he broke out of his current position. He tossed his smoke grenade over the tree trunk, and waited for the opportunity to move. Perhaps the strange soldiers and him could help each other...

 

[LoneSniper87]

Ashley Winter

An Eisenlander? It's wierd that I wasn't put with them, but I guess I'm not from Eisenland persay. "Blau auf Blau!" I shout in our native tounge, showing him an open palm as a show of peace before I shot it back down and tried taking shots at some of the people down the ridge. I tapped a few 5.56 shots down to the man in the ditch with the grenade launcher, dirt skirting up around him from the awkward angle I held.

 

[Kabboom]

(bump Trappy Velkyn )

 

[Kabboom]

July 18, 2017
1514hrs
D Company's 22nd day in Grindes

Pfc. Dimitri "Essie" Mayakovsky

"Contact! Flank them, go go go!" The gunfire rattles Dimitri, as he springs into action. Clutching his SKS tightly, he makes haste towards the nearest piece of cover available to him, a waist-high stump near the jeeps. His rifle, along with his position, means that he could provide long range fire onto the enemy, while his teammates moved forward. Darn girl, sprinting off like that... she could've ruined their plan.

Dimitri was scared. The fighting has already started, and yet they still have a long way to go. He wonders if he can even survive the way to the jammers, let alone returning from it. But he must hold fast, he must hold firm. His comrades need him. His friends need him. Scared as he was, Dimitri was going to stay. Because if he isn't going to get out of this one alive, the least he could do is try to get Faris and his friends out in his stead. And with those thoughts, Dimitri dug himself behind the stump, his SKS resting upon it steadily, ready to take names.

From his relatively elevated position, he could see the battlefield clearly. His comrades are thankfully out of grenade range, but the Femosi with the grenade launcher will prove a dangerous threat, which the... puzzling Ensign is taking care of, suppressing him for the time being. Dimitri then fixes his sights on an easier target; the Femosi rifleman within the bushes. As he takes aim, Dimitri gathers his thought. 'Alright Dimitri, remember your training. Breathe in, hold, squeeze...'

.......KA-PICH....

A single shot cracks through the air downrange, and though there was no sound, there was a puff of crimson red slightly dampening the area, as the silhouette of the rebel, lying prone within the bushes, goes flat to the ground. Dimitri exhales sharply, with a hint of relief.

...TATATATATAK... TA-TA-TAK...

...PWAK... PAH-PAH-PAH-PAK...

KONTAKT! FIRE-EM! SIANKA, PROPOU! PROPOU!

YA, YA! ...TAH-TAH-TAH-TAK... TATATATAK...

The sound of warfare echoes through the jungle, and puts a strain on Dimitri's fading ear protection, as he tries to get a good shot on another rebel, peeking out from behind an oak tree with sporadic bursts of AK fire.

Sgt. Faris Woods

Alright, think, Faris, think! You've got rebels in front, friendlies behind, and a ticking clock. There's 5 enemies, and a potential ally stranded behind the lines. Alright, alright, alright, yes, you can do this. Time is of the essence. I reach for my rifle again, a faint trail of smoke wafting through the air as the barrel swung around, ready to be used again. I turn around to my remaining comrades, who are now following my initial burst of energy, making good use of the time they have before the enemy adjusts their sights.

The militiamen have better cohesion than I thought. Well, most of them, at least. They're sticking together, taking cover behind stuff, and just getting real close to the dirt, putting down an obscene amount of lead downrange, as a cacophony of small-arms begins to echo itself through the jungle, with the AKs practically punching into my eardrums. I shift myself into a comfortable position, as rifle rounds crack through the air above and around me.

"Anam, Biela, keep suppressing 'em! Fire, fire! Roza, Winter, flank to the right, get those AK guys! Cover me, I'm moving up!" I yelled to them, unsure if my orders were actually audible or not, before rolling out of cover, and getting up to the crouched position. My gun pointed in the enemy's relative position, I squeezed the trigger erratically as I sprinted forward with a low profile, with small handfuls of dirt being kicked up all around my feet, and even one 7.62 hitting a tree, fragmenting splinters into my left forearm. The recoil of the rifle is hard to run with, and the flora that keeps getting in the way of my boots don't make the run easier. But I made it.

I'm standing behind a tree, my back against the bark, and my right elbow nudging the girl that got us into this firefight in the first place. Her hair is disheveled, she's got dirt and mud on most of her clothes, and there's some faint red trails on her face and hands. I peek out again on my side, and spot the M79-wielding Femosi in his little dirt hole, preparing to fire. I raise my rifle up, and fire off what's left in the magazine, with intent to kill. My rounds come very close to him, with one bullet even shaving off a few strands of hair from his head, but no dice, as the guy is startled and ducks, firing off a shell with a heart-sinking PLOMP! The resulting explosion kicked a considerable amount of dirt into the air, but luckily it hit no one.

As I begin to reload, haphazardly throwing away the spent magazine, I turn over to the girl. "Hey, hey! I shoot. You run. Man in hole." I say to her, trying to keep it simple. As I rack the bolt and make myself ready to spend this magazine as well, I turn my head over to her. "Go!" And just like that, she was off, running headlong at the guy, who was now pulling out his TT-33. I squeeze the trigger, kicking up a shit ton of leaves and dust around him, forcing his head down. As my final bullet left the barrel of my gun, he popped up again, with a loaded M79 pointed at me.

Oh shit.

I immediately duck down, one hand fixed firmly on my helmet, pulling it close as hard as I can, as a PLOMP! sound went off, and a deafening explosion went off, shaking the tree I was hiding behind, and giving me one hell of a challenge in a game of No-Shitting-Pants. Debris, mostly dirt and tree branches, land around me, with one branch bouncing off my helmet, along with countless twigs and leaves. But I'm okay.

How the hell did I survive that?

Velkyn Trappy LoneSniper87 Winter_Wolf

 

[Kabboom]

Velkyn Trappy LoneSniper87 Winter_Wolf

 

[Velkyn]

Roza Helminski
Day 1(?) of Deployment: Approx. 1400 hours
Unwounded
Dismounting
------------------------------------------------------------------------


Roza heard that first shot, she had been facing the opposite direction as it whistled into the ground somewhere to her right. She instinctively lurched onto her stomach, the magazines on her belt digging into her ribs as she did. Immediately, the platoon sprang into action. She could hear suppressive fire ring out and pepper a ridge-line not all that far from where she was hunched down. She could hear the sudden yelling of orders out, her ear turning back to listen for just a moment. She caught her name, picking out "Flank" and 'Right", and hoped she got the correct meaning.

"Daj im piekło, dziwny człowieku."

Gathering her courage, she dug her knee into the dirt and surveyed, the strange man firing with the SKS above her. She pushed herself off the ground, her feet digging into the dirt with a strained grunt. Her soft-shelled boots dug into the ground. Her hand gripped the grip of her MP-9 as she kept the muzzle towards the ground, a distinct explosion coming from where she just stood. She paid it no mind as she sprinted forwards and right, towards a ditch just beneath a small tree. Halfway through her spring, she spotted the girl from earlier, shells spitting onto the ground next to her. Three fourths of the way, that horrifying crack of a missed shot echoed just over her left ear.

Gritting her teeth, she bent into a crouch and let her knees tear into the dirt as she came close to the ditch, letting her momentum carry her into a slide. She all but slammed into the dirt and nearly knocked the wind out of herself on impact, but she gave it no though as she brought her gun up blazing, the first two rounds skinning the dirt in front of her. The distinct sound of continued full-auto was drowned by the overwhelming sound of higher caliber fire, lessening the noise to a buzzing undertone beneath the symphony of fire. She aimed for the line of grey-clad men only 100 meters from her now, give or take. She wasn't sure what she hit, but the sudden volley of 9mm caused a few to relocate, dashing for cover.

"Winter! pójść napr.. Bound!"

She wasn't sure how the name came to her so quickly, and wasn't confident if it was right, but she screamed out for the woman that she guessed was sent with her. Dropping the magazine from her gun, she slammed another into the grip and racked the bolt back quickly. Letting out shorter, more accurate bursts, she brought her sights onto four different enemies, of which only one stayed in place after she moved on. Her next magazine was gone quickly, and she changed to a third, the two empty ones slung into their respective places. Only one more spare mag, she kept her gun up and began to take shorter bursts, only two to four rounds leaving her barrel as she tried to keep some heads down herself.

"Move!"

 

[LoneSniper87]

Ashley Winter
Velkyn

Wait, what? They want me to run a flank? But why? I'm a medic, I... I don't run in! I gave a frustrated sigh and tried harder to keep the target's heads down. I saw the one with the M79 come up next to the Sergeant, so I quickly fired a shot down at him, causing his shot to go wide and hit a nearby tree. I was dragged from my thoughts but someone saying my name. I saw Rosa down the line already and raced up next to her, going down to a crawl. "Yes?" I asked as I got closer, feeling the occasional shell casing fall into my back, the burn slight but obvious.

 

[Velkyn]

Roza Helminski
Day 1(?) of Deployment: Approx. 1400 hours
Unwounded
Manouvering
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LoneSniper87

Roza pushed herself lower to the ground, her head just beneath the ridge-line. She looked to her right and saw Winter on the ground near her, trying to bury herself into the dirt. She moved to her left and made room behind the tree roots, allowing her into the cover. She let her sub-gun fall onto its sling, reaching behind her and pulling the metal cylinder that sat in a stack on her left side. It had two large orange rings around its base, and a striker set beneath a pin on the top.

"Let this bloom, Is only a 30 metre dash".

She looked towards winter and pulled the pin, a bright spark emitting from the top of the grenade. She gave it a heavy shake and watched as the orange smoke began to bloom from both ends of the grenade, just as she had expected. A quick solution to the bullets flying over their heads. She calculated the best spot to throw the smoke, and guessed that 15 meters ahead of them would be best. She leaned back beneath the tree and threw the grenade, smoke billowing through the air as it landed a little short of where she wanted. Smoke began to pour out onto the hillside, thin trails back lighting those behind small pieces of cover.

"Be ready to move"

She never gave Winter an option, it was a way of encouragement she learned worked for herself, a way to build the courage to do the rather dangerous tasks of combat. She quickly glanced behind her, seeing a major amount of lead being exchanged between her comrades and those that stood in her way. Luckily she saw nobody lying on the grass, which was good. She looked back as smoke began to float over her head and nodded softly. Poking her head into the smoke, she spotted a rock a healthy 45 meters away, the only good cover not covered in combatants.


"Rock, 50 meters" Roza said, pointing her hand towards it "Be ready!"

 

[Winter_Wolf]

Ulrich Adler

As the smoke from Adler's smoke grenade built up, his attention was drawn to the soldiers again. He thought he'd heard something in his own language--indeed, it was a feminine voice crying out "blau auf blau," "blue on blue" and accompanied with a wave. That went a long ways towards reassuring Ulrich Adler.

There was plenty of gunfire in the area, then movement as those soldiers with apparent allies shifted around and pushed. Adler heaved himself up and, knowing that he was acknowledged as not-an-enemy, started his own push. He wasn't taking fire from the direction he came from thanks to the smoke, but some other enemy fired at him. The rounds were close enough to force him to seek cover again. There were explosions, and more smoke from a different grenade, but Adler could see the enemy. The gunman wasn't in the best position; perhaps protected against the soldiers, but not from Adler's angle.

As Adler popped up and rested his machine gun on a low branch, a few more rounds came in...but as was becoming a trend, the auditory retort from the MG-3 put them to shame. Adler sent a pair of bursts downrange. Amongst the shitstorm kicked up by the bullets, Adler saw a glob of blood fly out from their neck and/or head. In any case, no more fire came from that position.

 

[LoneSniper87]

Ashley Winter

I nod to myself, also acknowledging Rozá. "Yeah..." I said, watching the smoke bloom up and head back toward us. As if just like me, it didn't want to be out here. I nod again, his time directed to her. "Ready when you are." She told her, stealing herself for the run she has to make.

 

[Trappy]

Valentina Luprecal

After acknowledging the Ambrian captain's callout, which was clearly simplified by the man best he could, I dashed towards the rebels. Amidst a hell storm of bullets, with little more than dry bushes, rocks and dirt moulds as cover, I had not a second to think. All I knew was the obvious: the sooner I hit that hole, the better. I can hear a few whizzing noises on my right, and some thudding on the ground, they must've noticed me. Shit, the people better cover my ass! Anyways, I'm about to hit the grenadier's hole, here comes!

I drop onto him as the man's reloading his grenade launcher, taking him by surprise. The size of the foxhole means that I fell right on top of him. And as expected, we wrestle in that cramped space, with either me or him trying to push the others' face into the dirt. After a minute or so, I manage to push him down and stay on top. Wasting no time, I grab the dropped M79 and butt-stroked the rebel in the face, knocking him out. While I doubt that got him for good, keeping him alive may be useful.

Once I'm done with him, I raise my head to signal the Ambrian captain to move over, at the same time spotting two rebels with AKs behind the trees. Leaning my Sterling on the dirt, I take aim, and unleashed bursts at them.

 

[Kabboom]

July 18, 2017
1516hrs
D Company's 22nd day in Grindes

Sgt. Faris Woods
Bullets kicking up as the sharp crack of bullets whizzing by me, my eyes involuntarily narrow down, forcing my vision to darken. One hell of a thing, this adrenaline rush. It makes you scared shitless, but at the same time, addicted beyond words. Anyway, I've made it into cover, thanks to some suppressing fire from the militia girl, with her archaic SMG. As I enter the hole in the ground, my feet 'accidentally' land on the unconscious rebel's chest. 'Accidentally'.

I take a look around. The militiamen have learned to adapt, and are moving ahead, with the blue shirt guy providing suppressing fire with a few bursts of his M60, with the reservist in the back, providing accurate rifle fire. Most of the enemies have been eliminated, with the exception of 2 remaining assault rifle wielders, taking panicked cover behind a few bullet-ridden oak trees, their bark harboring more lead than insects. They were being pinned down from 3 different directions. Soon enough, they'll put two and two together to try and retreat, and probably tell the others.

'Not on my watch', I thought, grabbing the M79 lying nearby, and popping a grenade round into the chamber. Aiming with the slightly crooked sight was out of the question, I was gonna have to eyeball it. Grabbing it and aiming as carefully as I could, I depressed the trigger, releasing a PLONK! sound, and a slight whistle stood out through the orchestra of ear-punching gunfire, before ending in a deafening explosion, as the round slammed into the upper echelons of the trees, sending hails of shrapnel and splinters down with the blast, impaling the remaining gunmen hundreds of times over from above.

As they slump to the ground, the gunfire dies down. I yell out, "Move up, quick! They'll know we're here!" before getting out of my ditch and moving up, to confirm the kills. Crawling up the dirt mound, I spot the grisly bodies, encapsulated nicely through my rifle's iron sights. I could almost puke, but that would have to wait till later. "Clear!" I yelled out, looking at my men, and the extra... member, who appears to be from an Eisenlander unit. "Regroup!" I yelled again, my voice becoming slightly hoarse, headed towards the hole in the dirt, where we have a prisoner...

Velkyn Trappy LoneSniper87 Winter_Wolf

 

[Pilgrim59]

Day 1 - 15:16:17 FST (Femos Standard Time)
Designate: S&D Recon Fireteam
Pfc. Dimitri "Essie" Mayakovsky
22nd Division, 3rd Battalion, B Company
FOB, Grindes, Femos
​

CHEKU! KROP... KLAK!

The magazine slid in the well and pulled the bolt forward like a trooper sliding into a trench. Crouching and moving along the standing grasses, Dimitri put his transition readiness to the test, firing and moving on the go. A few cold bodies passed him as he made his way parallel to the other friendlies. His trigger engagement toppled the strings of his physical strength, to the point where he no longer felt any recoil on his chest. As the skirmish winded and the hazy battlefield became clear, Dimitri expedited his rifle's magazine transition with his left hand dancing with two magazines at the same time, while his right hand steadied forward, scanning the empty horizon before raising his voice over his shoulder.

"Grid point secure! Hostiles accounted for, rallying up!"

His steps slithered backwards, as he kept a keen watch towards his front, treading his way towards Faris. Within a decent hearing vicinity, the young reservist fell on one knee and lowered his rifle, with his fingers pointing away from the trigger, and his ears open to further words from his comrades. Dimitri gave a sigh, as he looked at the bodies on the ground, some not any younger than he was. He battled his thoughts, awaiting someone's words to break the haunting silence in his head.

 

[Winter_Wolf]

Ulrich Adler

Adler shot glances around the area one last time after hearing the regroup order, making sure that it was indeed clear. He didn't want any more apparent enemies to suddenly appear and shoot at him like earlier. At least there are apparent friendlies with me now, he thought. Then the machine gunner stood up in order to regroup. As he did so, the pressure on his leg made him stumble a little; the action and confusion of the firefight had taken his mind off his leg, but now that that was over the pain from the rubble pile became more apparent. Ulrich Adler reached the 'apparent friendlies' and paused, looking them over with no small amount of absence in his gaze.

"Hello--I'm Ulrich Adler," he said. He was happy that he remembered his name, even if it seemed like he forgot everything else.

 

[LoneSniper87]

Ashlyn Winter

I got up from next to Rozá and and quickly jogged to the Eisenlander, or Ulrich. "Hey, geht es dir gut?(Hey, are you ok?)" I asked him, looking him over quickly for any injuries.