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 Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2007 1:17 pm
Garrett peered behind the mangled mess to see that fellow from the bar (plus the marine armor and gear) going wild. This was the pinnacle of the battle, he could tell, and someone was about to get hurt or die. Chances were it was going to be Jack. Garrett wasted no time in hurtling the wreckage, picking up the sugar rifle of the dead Sergeant, and began firing. Despite the recoil, Garrett fired heedlessly. He was not trying to hit anything, but rather keep the enemy from hitting Jack; cover fire they called it. Once the gun ran out, however, he merely tossed it aside, and scrounged for a new one. This time, he came up with a Bro, and shouted at the other men in the hall.
"GO! Help him, and take the damned lizards with you!" Heeding his own call then, Garrett hauled himself over the next barrier, and sprinted down the hall firing the Bro fully automatic. He was halfway to the enemy barricades when a shot tore through his left knee. With a cry, he tumbled and dropped the weapon in the process. In the midst of all his rolling, another round tore through his right calf. Garrett was still. His eyes were closed.
But he was still breathing, and in shock from the suddenness of it all. He was pretty sure he no longer had a knee cap to speak of, and that his right foot was gone. He couldn't look though, not out in plain sight while the enemy continued their assault. All he could do was attempt to control his breathing, and try to retain consciousness. He was barely able to do either.
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2007 2:15 pm
As Jack shot the lizard in the throat and pummeled it to the ground, the squad from the pod behind him began to rally. Despite the fact that his own squad was already dead or dieing, Jack fought on. A few more smashers were still in immediate range, and Jack charged the nearest. As his fire ripped through the face of this one, he heard a shout from a bit behind him. Turning, he recognized a captain he had met on shore leave, laying in a pool of his own blood as it quickly flooded from his body. Jack immediately stepped away from his one man front line, letting the squad of marines continue the battle towards the barricades. Dragging Garrett towards cover, Jack joined the command com. "I have a lot of wounded men here. They need a medivac or they're going to die soon!" he shouted into the com, the adrenaline still running hot through his blood.
Waiting for someone to reply on the overcrowded com channel, Jack looked over the large smasher he was taking cover behind. The squad seemed to be holding its own now that the shock of the battle had worn off. He looked down at the shredded legs of the captain. They were shot to a pulp and leaking a river of blood. He would die in another minute if this bleeding wasn't stopped. The bottom half of his left leg was hanging on by a small piece of tendon... it would have to be sacrificed. The right calf had been shot at a bad angle, and the round had gone through all the way down to his heel. There was barely a foot left. Jack tore the bloodied BDUs off of the captain's legs, working fast to tie cravats at his thigh and calf, struggling to remember the now vital information he had been given during basic training two years ago.
When the work was done, he leaned back against the drathonian corpse that they were sheltered behind, looking over his comrade. He was still on the edge of consciousness, and Jack felt a wave of sorrow that brought a few small tears to his dry, unblinking eyes. Seeing this man laying on the ground dying with these stubs of legs was too much. He turned his attention to the battle going on behind him. Taking up his tiger once more, he begins to give the marines support fire, delivering a headshot to a drathonian looking over the edge of a barricade. The mixture of sorrow and rage he felt put him in a very silent mood. There would be no bragging today, not while he was knee deep in the blood of his brothers.
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2007 3:18 pm
The grasp of another shook him to something just above vague awareness. He knew he was being saved, but at the same time knew it was also an amateur attempt: medics were much gentler, and often came with worried voices and stretchers. Adrenaline attempted to surge, but it only had a minor effect. A lot of it merely ended up flooding out the gaping wounds. His eyes fluttered, and in the last few seconds of consciousness, he saw Jack rise to his feet. There was pure determination and hatred in those eyes, and for some reason or another, it put a faint smile on Garrett's face. He laughed at himself, thinking he was delusional; the laughter only made him laugh harder, wracking his body with wild tremors. He convulsed a few times, then slowly settled, and passed out, his body no longer capable of sustaining conscious activity.
Now his life truly was in the hands of other men, and if Garrett had been awake, he would have cursed himself for being a fool. This position of weakness he had put upon himself was the last thing Garrett would have ever wanted. He was a staunch, self-sufficient man, and he preferred to keep it that way. Thank God he was unconscious.
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2007 4:04 pm
While the fight in the corridor may have been going what might be considered well, The rest of the sector of the station was in even worse chaos. The Mud brown blood of Drathonians mingled with the stark red of the Terran's all over. Bodies, wreckage, destroyed weapons, and equipment lay everywhere. And that was just the ground. If one would look but a few feet up, they would be met with energy blasts and kinetic weapons fire being exchanged back and forth between the two bitter enemies. The cunning and skill of Humanity's finest mashed up against the brute strength of the universe's worst. Overall, the effect was both awing and disgusting. But still, the fighting continued.
Somewhere over a squad channel, a call for help reached the Battle Hymn. it's origin traced within seconds, a team of medics guarded by marines with barrier shields boarded a pod and lanched into the fray, lancing into the corridor with surgical precision. As soon as the door opened, sheilds were there to absorb damage as the medics rushed down the conqured section of hallway, picking up the wounded. A medic found the uncioncious form of Garrett hendlow and gently went about putting the proper dressings on his wounds. That taken care of, she injected the captain with a shot that would wake him up and dull the pain to a tolerable level. Knowing he was needed, she attached special fittings to his legs which would allow him to stand and move, though not quickly.
As soon as the Demo man's eyes opened she showed three fingers to him "How many?" she asked quickly to test wether or not he should be evac'd or stay and help.
***
The space battle was going a lot better than the station one was, the immense terran force outgunning every drathonian ship. Alpha squad, being Marines, were recalled to the Hymn for boarding procedures. the men were needed more inside than out it seemed, and Kai and his men complied, jetting back to the Hymn at full speed, setting down in the hangar and rushing to the ready-room to prepare for the next wave of troopers assaulting the shipyards.
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2007 5:43 pm
Just minutes later, the sector of the deck Jack and Garrett were on was cleared. Squads of marines converged in a large mess hall near where their pods had originally come to rest. A gunnery sergeant was giving a briefing on their next objective. "Alright boys, listen up. We're on the floor directly above a key objective of ours: one of the station's main dry docks. There is only one route down: a set of two personnel lifts and a cargo lift are located just down the hall. We need to capture that dock soon, because if the lizards realize we're winning this battle, they're going to do everything they can to leave us nothing but heaps of scrap metal. The only problem is force: there's only about 30 of us, and we're unsure how many of them are in that hangar. We've estimate over 150, but it could be much more. There is also another problem: the dock is large enough to fit tanks, and they'll almost definitely have them. Nevertheless, we have to try anyways. We have reinforcements coming from wave 2. Get into position." With that, the gunnery sergeant gave a salute. Jack walked back into the hall, heading back to the pods to see if Garrett was alright. He'd left him to be treated by the medics while he finished capturing the deck. He stepped up to the girl treating him as she asked him how many fingers she was holding up.
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2007 9:12 pm
Garrett sat up with a start, taking a deep breath. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus. He was receiving the stimuli, but he was having trouble interpreting. When he finally recognized the shape in front of him as a hand, he grasped it, and began pulling, trying to stand. "Help me up," he groaned. "I need to get back..." He paused and let go, glancing down at his legs. "What happened? My legs..." He looked up at the medic. "What's wrong with my legs?" Fear was creeping into his voice. Garrett was a strong man, but if he couldn't walk, what good was the rest of his strength?
Then he saw Jack, and the man was unscathed, relatively speaking. He gave a sigh of relief. It was probably the drugs working in his head, but he couldn't seem to hold onto a subject for very long. "It's good to see you're alright." He held up his hand. "Mind giving a soldier a helping hand?" It was as if he had entirely forgotten about his injuries, which was actually the blatant truth. He simply couldn't hold a topic in his mind long enough to remember to worry.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 7:43 am
Jack stood dumbfounded before Garrett, a look of mixed empathy and confusion on his face. "Are... are you... alright?" he asked, worried that Garrett had lost it from all the blood loss and painkillers. He turned to the medic, who looked equally concerned. "I think you should get him back to the Hymn, he's not in much of a condition to fight." He turned back to Garrett, who had a slightly absent look on his face. Seeing captain Hendlow in this state was disconcerting to say the least. He crouched down next to the captain, closing his eyes for a moment. Jack opened them with a pained look on his face. He had to tell him... "Garrett, your legs... they were shot off. There wasn't anything I could do. The medic gave you robotic ones..." Jack looked away, expecting a reaction from Garrett. The lump in the back of his throat grew a bit bigger. He'd never been in a fight this bad. Jack could deal with death, but mutilation was another story. Seeing a man cut down to such a pitiable state seemed, in a way, worse than death.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 12:33 pm
Garrett was focused on Jack with rapt attention. His expression dimmed when he began talking about his legs. Unbelieving, he glanced down, and was about to point out the skin and bones when he realized that there was very little left. He grasped what once had been his knee to find a replacement joint. He turned his other leg to get a good look at his calf. In its stead was a series of electrical circuitry and muscle amplifiers. This stark change in his own body struck him harshly, but it was all coming back into focus.
He stared at his mangled body. He had gone running down the hall like a fool, and had paid the price. It seemed as if he had merely taken Jack's place; rather than protect Jack from harm, Garrett had taken the pain upon himself. It was a rather stupid thought, but that's just about how he felt, and while he was glad for Jack's safety, he was greatly angered that he no longer had his own muscle and bones to stand upon. Slowly, and with difficulty, he rose to his feet.
Garrett had never experienced clarity of mind like he did in that moment. He took a deep, resigned breath, and looked down at his legs. They worked, but they would never be the same. He was dead set on getting his revenge. Captain Hendlow would learn to operate a weapon properly. He was going to take that knowledge and shove it right up some Drathonian's a**. This he knew to be fact. He also knew that there was a battle to be finished then and now.
He looked at the medic. "Three, right?" He smirked, but it was fake. It was also exactly how the demolitions expert felt at that moment: fake. He was a false construct in a world of biological beings.
"I'm going. I'm clear-headed, I can walk, and I can sure as hell arm a bomb. Just tell me what I can and can't do with these things." He flexed the fake knee joint, trying to get some feel for it. Then he glanced at Jack. "And thanks. I owe you a drink or ten. Just tell me what's going on right now, so I can get back to work." He spoke quietly the entire time, his face an utterly morbid expression.
He gave one last look to the floor, and saw all the blood --his blood. Garrett examined his pants around the tears and saw that much of it had become stained. He wasn't going to spill his own blood wastefully. He was going to finish this mission, whether this medic liked it or not.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 1:33 pm
A chill went down Jack's spine as Garrett came to his feet. The morbid look of determination on his face was enough to scare any foe. "Sir, I think it's me that owes you a drink. Those bullets were meant for me." He grabbed Garrett's hand in a firm handshake. "I'm in your debt." He gave a Garrett a sad smile of pride. He had more courage than Jack would ever hope to obtain. If he lost his legs, he'd be more likely to completely give up on life right there than stand up and keep fighting. Who was he compared to this man? He owed Garrett everything. Jack looked back over to the medic. "Is he okay to stay?" he asked. There was still work to be done, and he wasn't one to stop Garrett from blowing everything to hell for him.
[I'm going to wait for Kai to post to continue... Kai, let me know if you didn't want me giving us that objective in my previous post.]
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 2:02 pm
(( The objective is fine, just any leader with any sort of sense wouldn't send only 30 people out there, and there would be more like 300 Drathonians))
Seeing the pain apparent on Garrett's face, the Medic suddenly chimed in "Don't worry sir, Once you get back to the hymn, You can get your legs replaced with real ones; these are only temporary." With that, she walked off tending the other wounded and tagging the dead.
***
Soon after this, an extremely loud thump was heard, along with some whirring and noises of metal cutting metal, and a section of the wall suddenly grew an orang circle before being vaporized. A pod's hatch could be seen, which Quickly opened to reveal Alpha squad, headed by their leader, Kai. As soon as he noticed that there was no fighting going on in this corridor, he shouldered his Sugar and walked over to the other two. "Status?" he asked, trying to figure out what was going on, the 20 men behind him eagerly listening.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 2:22 pm
A yellow light flashed on Steven's HUD bringing Steven, who had been looking at his scimitars tear through the drathonians. "Hm, that must mean that it is party time," Steven said in a coy tone, "Ok Green 3, drift off to my right and watch my flank." Steven got all the sights centered and steadied the shamshir on an intercept course for the raptor. The targeting display gave the all clear light and the launch button lit up. "Ok Green 2 brace," he called to the pilot in the chaingun. He moved his hand slaightly and pushed down the launch button. Two torpedos shot off away from the fighter, flew straight ahead for a few seconds, and impacted with the hull of the drathonian raptor. The explosions were enormous, ripping through the raptor, leaving two large craters in the vessel. Steven was awstruck by the efficiency of just two torpedos. He looked down and saw he still had ten torpedos left. He launched off four more torpedos and then pulled up and swung away from the explosions. He was smiling.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 3:03 pm
Garrett nodded and returned the firm handshake. After the okay from the medic, his gaze fell to Jack again. "We'll call it even then." Then he looked to Kai. He was tempted to speak, and when he realized the thoughts running through his head were 'said' with a condescending tone, he held his tongue and instead knelt slowly to pick up the Bro, and checked the ammo. Sure, he wasn't a crack shot, but he wasn't a nimrod when it came to firearms. They were like cousins to explosives, so it was impossible for him to not have at least a passing understanding as to operating, loading, and reloading one. Fixing a jam, though, would be nigh impossible for him. Next thing, he was walking away from Jack and Kai, more interested in his own thoughts, the Bro in his hands, and the idea of sending 300 Drathonians to Hell in a flaming hand basket of napalm and grenades (I have an image for that too!).
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 3:33 pm
Seeing the other captain walk off, and noticing the odd sound his now metal feet made on the floor, Kai Pulled a small grey rectangle off his belt and called for the demo expert "hey, You'll need this" he said, getting the man's attention as he walked over and handed him the battery pack shared by Bros, Tigers and Sugars. The blonde man then walked by, towards the room where a few voices could be heard, And barged in, Asking the same question, but this time getting an answer. (Which we already know so i'm not gonna re-post it)
***
A new enemy contact flashed on Steven's HUD as a Drake was targeted this time. unfortunately for the Shamshir, this thing had defensive guns, which began spewing flak in his direction. the squadron leader would have to manage his men to protect him and dake out the enemy turrets, now.
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 3:56 pm
[[ Gah! I had this post half-written like 30 minutes ago but got distracted! Well I didn't really consider the numbers, what ratio do you think would be realistic? X marines vs. Y drathonians? You're the boss : )- Perhaps a poor estimate of enemy numbers could be part of the story? Military intelligence is an oxymoron after all. Keep going, I don't have anything to post atm : / The one I was just working on got killed cuz I got interrupted and y'all posted. ]]
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Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 4:10 pm
Steven's HUD chirped at him again, indicating a new target, a drake. With a quick glance back at the raptor, which was now resonating with internal explosions, he called all his wingmen back to him. "Alright Greens! Form up on my right," he ordered. The scimitars quickly swept in and congregated just off his right wing. "We have a new target, we are going for that drake. Understood?" Steven said into the comm. All of the acknowledgement lights winked blue accept for one. "What is the problem Green 4?" steven asked, trying his best to hide his irritation. Green 4 was going to be quite a thorn to remove from his side.
"Yes their is a problem Green Lead. With all due respect, I think this is suicide," Green 4 replied with a hint of anger in his voice.
"Well 4. Here's the deal, I am team lead not you. If I tell you to do something you follow orders. Understood?" Steven said and with no attempt to hide his frustration. Green 4's acknowledgement light wink red.
"I am sorry Sir, but I am starting to question your ability to lead," 4 growled.
"Very well, you are no longer part of Green Squad then. Green 5, you are now 4. Greens move out towards destination. Weave paths to avoid flak," Steven ordered the wingmen, "Oh and Mr. Jones, I have taken the liberty to send in a report of your actions. Have a nice day civilian." Steven disconnected all comm contact with the scimitar, and flew off towards the drake.
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