09-02-2019, 11:57 PM
BATTLE OF POINT ALPHA - PART II
Taking the Village
Point Alpha
Captain Jimmy Bonello's body jerked back in his seat violently as a missile slammed into the undercarriage of his bomber. The sudden velocity change and the now downward spiraling plane pressed him aggressively against the cockpit pane, jabbing buttons and joint levers into his rib cage. Grunting in agony, smoke swirling through the cockpit, he managed to find the ejection lever and pull it upwards. The glass canopy sprung away as the pressure of the air quickly changed into the dramatic winds outside, and the ejection seat shot directly into the sky, sending Bonello into the rain and above the ocean. Knocked out by the sudden pressure change, Bonello was left unconscious as his parachute deployed and sent him sailing through the sky and towards the waves below him. His plane plummeted into the hill overlooking the landing fleet, along with two other of his pilots who faced similar fates. They, however, were unable to eject from their craft.
From the shore, Private Nicholas Henners slammed himself into a divet in the sand, covering his hand over his helmet as mortars exploded around them. He watched as his fellow soldiers piled into the natural bunker, secured from the direct bullet fire.
"The rebels weren't supposed to have this much firepower!" His commander, a man named Austin R. Wilson, shouted at the squad that had just disembarked from the landing craft. "They took down three of our jets!"
"What?" the grunt, Ger, shouted in response. Another mortar exploded, sending sand and rocks flooding over the divet. "How are we going about this then?"
Commander Wilson looked over the divet quickly, crouching back down and checking his rifle.
"We have at least ten shooters on the back fence of the beach. There's a dock to our right. Private Henners, you grab three boys and move that way. Clear out the right flank and we'll move around the left."
"Sir?" Nicholas shouted, confused. "I haven't done anything command wise, this is my first-"
"It's most everyone's first battle, Private!" The commander shouted back. "Just get yourself there and we'll cover you. Ready, go!"
The commander, the grunt, and five other men placed themselves at the top of the divet, firing back at the Bjeorg rebels behind the sand-trenched fence. Nicholas, Perch, and two other soldiers stood and ran over the dune, diving for cover once they reached the washed up fishing dock. Nicholas took his rifle and aimed through the sight, taking fire at an enemy soldier who hadn't seen the small group run to the new position. Four or five squeezes of the trigger took the man down to the sand, face plastered across the ground. The enemy fighters started noticing their fallen comrade and shot towards the group. A grenade from the commander's position quickly eliminated the fence and obliterated the insurgents.
Nicholas, signalling to Perch, who was clearly n some sort of trance from the sudden thrust of unpredictable battle, began moving forward once the commander and the rest of the squad took position in the area they had just cleared. Another mortar landed on the pathway leading up from the beach towards some wooden houses painted red. We're fighting in someone's home, Nicholas thought to himself while walking forward, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, scanning with each step.
Seeing movement from one of the buildings, Nicholas quickly pivoted, but the enemy dropped to the ground as Commander Wilson's rifle pumped three shots into the man's gut. Even as the enemy combatant was crumpling to the ground, a soldier pulled a pin on a grenade and tossed it through the window of the house. Nicholas almost shouted in horror, but the blast and recurring smoke billowing from the house kept his mouth quiet in shock. The commander did nothing.
Several people in saggy clothes started pouring out of hidden places in the small village, many of them throwing themselves to the ground in surrender before the Zamastanian troops. Many were running towards the forested hill past the village, some with weapons in hand, and some of them firing back at the soldiers. Wilson pointed at the fleeing men, and Zamastanian soldiers flanking him opened fire, cutting them down in hordes. They didn't take time to identify which ones had weapons on their person.
As the gunfight in the town began to die down, Nicholas, Perch, and the roughly 250 soldiers in the small village rounded up civilians and captured enemy combatants. 4 Zamastanian soldiers had been killed in the battle. Commander Wilson, fuming from the unexpected resistance and red in the face, ordered his men to line every captured individual, insurgent or citizen alike, in a clearing next to the landing zone. Nicholas gestured with his hand towards an old woman and a young teenage girl who were crouched in the beach grass. Other soldiers gestured towards their captives with their rifles.
Taking the Village
Point Alpha
Captain Jimmy Bonello's body jerked back in his seat violently as a missile slammed into the undercarriage of his bomber. The sudden velocity change and the now downward spiraling plane pressed him aggressively against the cockpit pane, jabbing buttons and joint levers into his rib cage. Grunting in agony, smoke swirling through the cockpit, he managed to find the ejection lever and pull it upwards. The glass canopy sprung away as the pressure of the air quickly changed into the dramatic winds outside, and the ejection seat shot directly into the sky, sending Bonello into the rain and above the ocean. Knocked out by the sudden pressure change, Bonello was left unconscious as his parachute deployed and sent him sailing through the sky and towards the waves below him. His plane plummeted into the hill overlooking the landing fleet, along with two other of his pilots who faced similar fates. They, however, were unable to eject from their craft.
From the shore, Private Nicholas Henners slammed himself into a divet in the sand, covering his hand over his helmet as mortars exploded around them. He watched as his fellow soldiers piled into the natural bunker, secured from the direct bullet fire.
"The rebels weren't supposed to have this much firepower!" His commander, a man named Austin R. Wilson, shouted at the squad that had just disembarked from the landing craft. "They took down three of our jets!"
"What?" the grunt, Ger, shouted in response. Another mortar exploded, sending sand and rocks flooding over the divet. "How are we going about this then?"
Commander Wilson looked over the divet quickly, crouching back down and checking his rifle.
"We have at least ten shooters on the back fence of the beach. There's a dock to our right. Private Henners, you grab three boys and move that way. Clear out the right flank and we'll move around the left."
"Sir?" Nicholas shouted, confused. "I haven't done anything command wise, this is my first-"
"It's most everyone's first battle, Private!" The commander shouted back. "Just get yourself there and we'll cover you. Ready, go!"
The commander, the grunt, and five other men placed themselves at the top of the divet, firing back at the Bjeorg rebels behind the sand-trenched fence. Nicholas, Perch, and two other soldiers stood and ran over the dune, diving for cover once they reached the washed up fishing dock. Nicholas took his rifle and aimed through the sight, taking fire at an enemy soldier who hadn't seen the small group run to the new position. Four or five squeezes of the trigger took the man down to the sand, face plastered across the ground. The enemy fighters started noticing their fallen comrade and shot towards the group. A grenade from the commander's position quickly eliminated the fence and obliterated the insurgents.
Nicholas, signalling to Perch, who was clearly n some sort of trance from the sudden thrust of unpredictable battle, began moving forward once the commander and the rest of the squad took position in the area they had just cleared. Another mortar landed on the pathway leading up from the beach towards some wooden houses painted red. We're fighting in someone's home, Nicholas thought to himself while walking forward, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, scanning with each step.
Seeing movement from one of the buildings, Nicholas quickly pivoted, but the enemy dropped to the ground as Commander Wilson's rifle pumped three shots into the man's gut. Even as the enemy combatant was crumpling to the ground, a soldier pulled a pin on a grenade and tossed it through the window of the house. Nicholas almost shouted in horror, but the blast and recurring smoke billowing from the house kept his mouth quiet in shock. The commander did nothing.
Several people in saggy clothes started pouring out of hidden places in the small village, many of them throwing themselves to the ground in surrender before the Zamastanian troops. Many were running towards the forested hill past the village, some with weapons in hand, and some of them firing back at the soldiers. Wilson pointed at the fleeing men, and Zamastanian soldiers flanking him opened fire, cutting them down in hordes. They didn't take time to identify which ones had weapons on their person.
As the gunfight in the town began to die down, Nicholas, Perch, and the roughly 250 soldiers in the small village rounded up civilians and captured enemy combatants. 4 Zamastanian soldiers had been killed in the battle. Commander Wilson, fuming from the unexpected resistance and red in the face, ordered his men to line every captured individual, insurgent or citizen alike, in a clearing next to the landing zone. Nicholas gestured with his hand towards an old woman and a young teenage girl who were crouched in the beach grass. Other soldiers gestured towards their captives with their rifles.