The large dropships soared through the air, it's twin engines roaring. The pilots pulled back the throttles as they approached the combat zone, dulling the roar. The transports lowered their altitude as they approached and several F-99 Spectre fighter/bombers and B-62 Eagle bombers streaked ahead. In the next instance, the ground was covered in fireballs as the Spectres and Eagles dropped their payloads. Off in the distance, Rhino long range artillary added their bit to the symphany of destruction below. The surrounding area was once a lush plain with green grass, tall trees and a small nearby lake. Now, it was nothing but scorched, cratered earth. The grass and trees were either burned or blown away. The nearby lake was contaminated by the decaying corpses of both human and Zerg. The area was officially classified as X-325. But to every grunt, it was known as the killing fields.
The doors of the dropships were retracted since take off and the men of the 105th Division, Delta Company, Second Platoon watched the explosions as they happened. As the ships drew closer to the battle and their altitude and speed decreased, the men tried to observe through the smoke how the battle was going. They stood, rifles ready as the transports came to a stop and hovered in place over the battlefield by powerful anti grav generators. Every man felt the intense heat from the recent bombing and artillary strikes. Smoke filled the air, forcing all of them to don their masks to filter the air and goggles to protect their eyes. As the dropship lowered towards the ground, the marines inside opened fire, filling the air with high speed bullets driven by electromagnets. Four of the dropships crew members manned the .80 caliber machine guns mounted on the ship and opened fire aswell, shredding several zerglings and Hydralisks.
The men departed the transport and slowly advanced towards the enemy, covered by the heavy machines. Lieutenant Paris Dugalle squeezed the trigger of his rifle, spreading hot metal death into a group of zerglings as they attempt to rush him and his team mates. He knew they had to work fast to secure the area. They wouldn't have the fire support of the dropship for long, as it was too much of a risk to keep even one in a battle for more than a few minutes. They were lucky though, the bombings and artillery barrage thinned the Zerg out some. Then, he heard a scream. Looking to his right, he saw a soldier laying on the ground, clutching their chest as several Hydras bore down on him. Acting quickly, he flipped his rifle (which was slung over his shoulder thanks to a strap) behind backreached behind his back and detached the grenade launcher from his back and using his other hand grabbed a grenade has he popped the launcher open with a flick of his wrist. Slipping the handheld explosive inside, he closed the launcher and aimed it at the Hydras with his right hand and fired.
The top half of the middle Hydralisk exploded as the grenade impacted against it. The other two were sprayed with a mix of shrapenal, acid, entrails and Hydra spikes. Two soldiers finished them off as a medic rushed over to the downed marine. These medics were different than the ones around more than ten years ago. Gone was the traditional white armor. During the recent overhaul of the military it was decided that the armor was more of a hinderance and the result of too many casualties amongst the medical corp. Now, medics wore lighter armor with the standard helmet and were armed with hand guns for protection. They carried a large pack on their back which carried the supplies they needed.
A screeching sound caught Paris's attention and he spun just in time to see a Zergling lunging at him. Both fell to the ground the ground, with the dog sized creature on top, trying to dig it's claws and teeth into Dugalles face and throat. As the creature dived it's head towards the twenty five year olds throat, he threw his left arm up to shield himself, catching the maw of the beast. He grunted in pain as it bit down, driving it's teeth deep into his flesh. He knew he was in trouble. His rifle was pinned to his back, so it was useless to him. He felt around the ground, hoping to find a rock to use as a weapon. He stopped when his hand brushed against the sheath of his knife. He grunted again as the Zergling bit harder, spraying both their faces with Paris's blood. He managed to unsnap the sheath and grabbed the handle, he pull the knife out.
He let out a loud growl as he slammed the blade of the knife into the side of the Zerglings head, causing green blood to come out in long spurts. The force of the stab managed to free his arm and he used it to knock Zerg off him and on to the ground, using the same injured arm to pin the creature down while he pulled the knife from it's head and stabbed it repeatly in the face. After a few minutes of stabbing, Dugalle stood slowly, covered in the creatures blood and a two dozen cuts from when beast was thrashing about. He looked around while holding his arm. The battle was winding down, with his fellow soldiers finishing off the remaining Zerg. He kept the pressure on his wound and looked for a medic, seeing that all of them were tending to fallen soldiers, stabilizing chest and stomach wounds. He knew they were the lucky ones. A dropship would come soon, pick them up and the dead up and take to a nearby field hospital. The unwounded would break into two teams, each with a task. One would dig foxholes and trenches while the other would stand watch.
Hours later, he sat on a mound of dirt while a medic finished dressing his arm wound. The medic had to pull several of the Zerglings teeth out of his arm and covered the wound in disinfectant and sulfur. The dropship had come and gone soon after the battle had ended. His wound wasn't life threatening, so he stayed. He knew they were going to need every man they could get, if they wanted any chance to hold the ground that they fought for. A soldier stopped infront of him and handed him a tin cup of artificial beef stew and a cup of coffee.
This was going to be one long night. He though as he chews a piece of the artificial beef and then took a sip of coffee. One very long night.
The doors of the dropships were retracted since take off and the men of the 105th Division, Delta Company, Second Platoon watched the explosions as they happened. As the ships drew closer to the battle and their altitude and speed decreased, the men tried to observe through the smoke how the battle was going. They stood, rifles ready as the transports came to a stop and hovered in place over the battlefield by powerful anti grav generators. Every man felt the intense heat from the recent bombing and artillary strikes. Smoke filled the air, forcing all of them to don their masks to filter the air and goggles to protect their eyes. As the dropship lowered towards the ground, the marines inside opened fire, filling the air with high speed bullets driven by electromagnets. Four of the dropships crew members manned the .80 caliber machine guns mounted on the ship and opened fire aswell, shredding several zerglings and Hydralisks.
The men departed the transport and slowly advanced towards the enemy, covered by the heavy machines. Lieutenant Paris Dugalle squeezed the trigger of his rifle, spreading hot metal death into a group of zerglings as they attempt to rush him and his team mates. He knew they had to work fast to secure the area. They wouldn't have the fire support of the dropship for long, as it was too much of a risk to keep even one in a battle for more than a few minutes. They were lucky though, the bombings and artillery barrage thinned the Zerg out some. Then, he heard a scream. Looking to his right, he saw a soldier laying on the ground, clutching their chest as several Hydras bore down on him. Acting quickly, he flipped his rifle (which was slung over his shoulder thanks to a strap) behind backreached behind his back and detached the grenade launcher from his back and using his other hand grabbed a grenade has he popped the launcher open with a flick of his wrist. Slipping the handheld explosive inside, he closed the launcher and aimed it at the Hydras with his right hand and fired.
The top half of the middle Hydralisk exploded as the grenade impacted against it. The other two were sprayed with a mix of shrapenal, acid, entrails and Hydra spikes. Two soldiers finished them off as a medic rushed over to the downed marine. These medics were different than the ones around more than ten years ago. Gone was the traditional white armor. During the recent overhaul of the military it was decided that the armor was more of a hinderance and the result of too many casualties amongst the medical corp. Now, medics wore lighter armor with the standard helmet and were armed with hand guns for protection. They carried a large pack on their back which carried the supplies they needed.
A screeching sound caught Paris's attention and he spun just in time to see a Zergling lunging at him. Both fell to the ground the ground, with the dog sized creature on top, trying to dig it's claws and teeth into Dugalles face and throat. As the creature dived it's head towards the twenty five year olds throat, he threw his left arm up to shield himself, catching the maw of the beast. He grunted in pain as it bit down, driving it's teeth deep into his flesh. He knew he was in trouble. His rifle was pinned to his back, so it was useless to him. He felt around the ground, hoping to find a rock to use as a weapon. He stopped when his hand brushed against the sheath of his knife. He grunted again as the Zergling bit harder, spraying both their faces with Paris's blood. He managed to unsnap the sheath and grabbed the handle, he pull the knife out.
He let out a loud growl as he slammed the blade of the knife into the side of the Zerglings head, causing green blood to come out in long spurts. The force of the stab managed to free his arm and he used it to knock Zerg off him and on to the ground, using the same injured arm to pin the creature down while he pulled the knife from it's head and stabbed it repeatly in the face. After a few minutes of stabbing, Dugalle stood slowly, covered in the creatures blood and a two dozen cuts from when beast was thrashing about. He looked around while holding his arm. The battle was winding down, with his fellow soldiers finishing off the remaining Zerg. He kept the pressure on his wound and looked for a medic, seeing that all of them were tending to fallen soldiers, stabilizing chest and stomach wounds. He knew they were the lucky ones. A dropship would come soon, pick them up and the dead up and take to a nearby field hospital. The unwounded would break into two teams, each with a task. One would dig foxholes and trenches while the other would stand watch.
Hours later, he sat on a mound of dirt while a medic finished dressing his arm wound. The medic had to pull several of the Zerglings teeth out of his arm and covered the wound in disinfectant and sulfur. The dropship had come and gone soon after the battle had ended. His wound wasn't life threatening, so he stayed. He knew they were going to need every man they could get, if they wanted any chance to hold the ground that they fought for. A soldier stopped infront of him and handed him a tin cup of artificial beef stew and a cup of coffee.
This was going to be one long night. He though as he chews a piece of the artificial beef and then took a sip of coffee. One very long night.