[Prologue] Hitting Home

I'll figure out a description as we go.
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Kai
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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Kai » Thu Dec 14, 2017 9:05 pm

The heavy weapons operator was able to get a little bit of covering fire, though it was mostly just small arms fire, and nothing of much consequence to the armored troop transport, but it was just enough to give her time to bring her weapon to bear and open fire. The Papa sprayed plasma all over the craft, not concentrating on the weapon enough to destroy it, but, luckily, it was enough to lock the turret in place so it was no longer mobile, and therefore much less accurate. The transport wheeled around slightly, taking its gun off of Cormac and Niall in the back of the warehouse, and trying to bring the more aimable gun to bear on the woman.

Cormac and Niall would notice, however, that the rear hatch of the craft was open still, and, at least for the moment, there didn't seem to be any terrorists shooting out of it- they could see a few inside busy trying to strap themselves into the jumpseats as the craft prepared to make its final exit.

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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Mr. Blackbird Lore » Fri Dec 15, 2017 7:46 pm

The papa and its wielder cut a steady path to the nearest cover. Unfortunately, it seemed that keeping that practiced pace would earn her a few excessively large and painfully gaping plasma wounds. Her job was done, though, and she could retire from the fight contentedly. As the turret swiveled to face her, she chucked the PPA-PA in one direction and dove in the opposite, trying to shield her body behind more metal containers. The only thing left to do was sit and hope her tired old luck held out.

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Straken
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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Straken » Wed Dec 20, 2017 5:15 pm

"I'm down to five bullets and a knife!" Cormac shouted to Niall as he looked passed his cover. "Short of jumping on that ship with them I'm not gonna be too useful."

Noting the main ship cannon had diverted its attention away from the two Irishmen, and the insurgents had begun to focus on evac. A wild idea popped into his head. The other team was pinned down by cannon fire, so if Cormac and Niall only peppered the bandits with occasional small arms fire from this distance then they were likely to get away. If they pressed in on them, taking the momentum while they were distracted, then they could try and overwhelm them before they could retaliate. He only hesitated for a moment as he worried about Niall, but set his jaw and made his decision. "Niall, with me!" the charred Irishman called to his brother-in-arms as he rallied and spun out of his cover. Pistol in his uninjured hand and his knife in the other, he charged towards the drop ship.

"What if they get a lucky shot to my head? What if there are more of them on board? What if I end up responsible for Niall get hurt or killed? This would have been easier if I hadn't destroyed my MTech unit." nagged the back part of Cormac's mind.
"Shut up, Cormac! rebuked the front part of Cormac's mind.

Sprinting quickly, the marine specialist closed the distance between himself and the drop ship (roll of 16) confident that Niall was close behind. With the bay doors in front of him and the distance growing smaller, he did not hesitate as he lept inside (roll of 11). "Ireshire!" he shouted as he lunged at the enemy combatant closest to him with his knife, striking true (roll of 20), sinking the blade up to the hilt in the man's neck. Running on adrenaline he turned his gun on the man the next seat over, but his offhand proved to be too untrained (roll of 1).

"Shit," Cormac thought as he ground his teeth, firing another shot to try and make up for his rushed aim. Leveraging the impaled soldier, he shrank trying cover himself as much as he could from the soldiers on the same side of the ship he was on, and could only pray that the others would only have small arms on them as they were strapped in; his ballistic weave could only stop so much. "Reckoning."

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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Kai » Thu Dec 21, 2017 6:08 pm

"Wait don-" Niall began, but the call fell short on deaf ears as Cormac rushed at the transport. He placed his face into the palm of his open hand, closing his eyes and shaking back and forth as if in despair or disappointment. "Oh, bloody 'ell" he muttered to himself, wavering on whether he should follow or not. Cormac was about to get himself killed, and he realized he was about to just sit and watch it. "G'DAMNIT YEH FECKIN IDJOT!" he yelled, mustering up his courage as he slammed his last full magazine into the butt of his pistol, the antique weapon making a satisfying click as it did so. Niall made a quite scoffing noise and then burst forth from behind his cover, following behind the other Irishman.

It was quickly clear that Cormac was going to one side of the transport, so Niall decided to take the other. Yelling as he ran, he made it to a point where he could clearly see the terrorists strapping themselves into the jumpseats- a few busy with the buckles, but there were a couple who had finished and now stared awestruck as two Terran idiots from Irieshire bumrushed the transport. Without thinking, Niall's military training kicked in, and he raised his weapon. Round after round was unleashed, one terrorist after the other taking a laser blast. First one to the head, the next to the chest, another to the leg, then a near-miss, the flash from the blast igniting the enemy combatant's clothes and causing him to try and put them out. Niall jumped into the craft after Cormac and, only a couple rounds left in his pistol, decided to try and punch the last terrorist on his side, but ended up misstepping and punching the wall instead, falling forward into the man's lap. Niall's misstep landed him in a dire situation, as he found himself not only tangled in some cargo strapping from the wall, but also grappled by the man he had been trying to knock out- his pistol flung to the ground and out of reach.

*****

In the cockpit, it seemed that the pilots had noticed the scuffle going on in the troop compartment, their attention now completely distracted, the stopped firing on the heavy weapons soldier, giving her time to find better cover and either tend to her wounds, or find something else that might help them win this fight. It became rather obvious to her, however, that the police had retreated quite a distance away, leaving her very much alone with herself.

However, she could see, scattered about the warehouse were a number of fallen terrorists, and numerous weapons ranging from basic handguns, to assault rifles.

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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Mr. Blackbird Lore » Thu Dec 21, 2017 7:02 pm

Fucking idiots, she silently chided. Her disapproval was only slightly abated by the lack of turret fire. It was still stupid.

Nevertheless, they had bought her precious time. She sprang from cover to her heavy weapon. With the turrets down for whatever reason, she was free to target the engines with the last few previous seconds left in the battery. The familiar vibration crept up her wrists as plasma globules plastered the rear side of the ship. Two and a half seconds wasn't as much as she'd hoped, but it was better than nothing.

The empty organ grinder was dropped a final time. She raced forward to collect a fresh weapon. She raised a loaded assault rifle to pepper the same engine, hoping the plasma had softened the target sufficiently. If it hadn't, she might as well point an angry strobe light at the transport.

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Straken
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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Straken » Thu Dec 21, 2017 9:28 pm

Cormac had never been so proud of Niall as when he saw the younger man leap into the drop ship after him, saving him from what would surely have been a one way trip. The chemical primed lasers of the grunt's pistol flared passed him as they seared into their targets. Roaring, Cormac cheered as the two marines road their momentum and it looked like they were bound to overwhelm the insurgents. Though, just as Cormac fumbled his shot, Niall's epic deed floundered as he lost his footing on some cords and went down in a grapple.

"Hands off my lad!" Cormac's shout rang out as he let go of his embedded knife and used his injured arm to stabilize his next shot. With the added support, he was able to land his last bullet on the man's collar bone, just off from the nape of his neck. Throwing his spent gun to the side and wrenching his knife free from its temporary sheath, he rushed forward to pry Niall away.

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Kai
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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Kai » Fri Dec 22, 2017 7:23 pm

It was only a few moments, but it seemed like forever as Cormac worked to free Niall, cutting the strapping and freeing the younger Irishman. They had just enough time to gather themselves- and maybe an extra weapon or two (Niall sure to pick his invaluable 2911 Laser pistol from the transport's floor) before the hatch to the cockpit of the transport opened, and with it came a few potshots that barely missed the duo, causing them to duck and find cover as the copilot came to fight off the intruders amidst the groans of injured passengers and the craft itself alike.

The ship lurched, thanks in part to the woman's last burst of fire. The engine was showing signs of damage and had begun smoking and running rough, the craft dipping to one side as it could no longer hold itself fully aloft. It rocked roughly as it did, throwing any of the occupants who were not strapped in off balance, Cormac, Niall, and the copilot included.

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Straken
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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Straken » Fri Dec 22, 2017 8:26 pm

"There ya go, me lad," Cormac said as he managed to slice through the last of the straps holding Niall. Taking a gun from one of the indisposed insurgents, the older Irishman was checking the ammo on it as the sound of a hatch open caught his attention. Doing his best to evade the haphazard shots from the other compartment, he was in turn off balance when the drop shift listed sharply and made him tumble without much grace across the floor and into the seats on the opposing bulkhead. He came to a sudden and painful stop as his burned and lacerated right arm slammed into metal, and the feeling of dozens of jagged pieces of metal slicing further into his arm caused him to cry out. Seeing red, Cormac raised his looted pistol and placed a round square in her chest.

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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Mr. Blackbird Lore » Sun Dec 24, 2017 11:34 am

When the rifle ran dry, the veteran dropped it and started to run after the plummeting transport. She barked more orders over the radio. "Get the first responders over here. This is about to blow up, perhaps literally. Everyone else, keep pace with the vessel. We need to extract two friendlies and capture any other survivors. Lethal force only if they draw on you."

A new voice joined the channel. "Be done faster than Skip's love life."

The veteran sharply rebuked the man, saying, "You can tell your jokes over beer, Sergeant." There was no response, only a chaste silence for several moments.

Then, "Skip here. First responders say they'll arrive before your sense of humor, ma'am."

"If you're not all at the transport when it hits dirt, expect a gratuitous flogging." There was no mirth in that promise, and the men must have taken it very seriously because an explosion sounded off to her right. Three fully armored Marines plowed through the smoke and freshly detonated door several dozen paces ahead.

Even with the weight of their gear the trio had no problem staying abreast of the crashing vessel. In fact, they didn't even seem to be struggling. It was nigh inhuman, and yet the scarred woman dishing out orders was gaining on them. These were clearly not ordinary Marines.

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Re: [Prologue] Hitting Home

Post by Kai » Thu Dec 28, 2017 6:38 pm

The copilot fell, and while the wound managed to not be fatal, the woman had likely never been shot or suffered any kind of major trauma before, and simply could not handle it, crumpling to the ground, and being banged off the frame of the hatch into the cockpit, splaying her out on the deck where she moaned in pain. The pilot himself was just too busy fighting the controls to be able to do anything, as the craft finally made contact with the ground, the stabilizers on the damaged side digging into the concrete flooring and causing the craft to jerk even harder, pivoting in a sharp circle on that point and causing a shower of concrete and metal to go flying everywhere as controls and components began to tear apart, adding sparks and smoke into the mix, though the second engine kept the craft from fully touching ground, it was now slowly scraping a circle into the ground as the newly arrived marines made to reach the wildly out of control craft.

Niall, for his part, was pressed up against one of the deceased enemy combatants, pinned to the wall by the gyroscopic forces caused by the spinning craft. The one good thing he noted as he fought to regain control of his own movements was that nobody was shooting at them anymore, but, that wasn't necessarily much help as they would likely die whenever the transport decided to finish crashing- unless something could be done about it soon. "Dammit, Cormac, Yer idiocy's gonna get us killed!" he yelled, with a bit of effort.

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