09-06-2019, 08:08 AM
Martin, Bjeorg
July 30th, 1991 - Mid-Afternoon
Private 1st-Class Andrew Kelsey of the brand new Bjeorg National Army was shuffling nervously as rain poured down on his head. The rains had begun around 3:00 AM and were showing no sign of stopping. It wasn't actually a hard rain, nor was it a particularly cold rain. It was just the type of rain that makes you feel miserable inside.
Kelsey picked up his assault rifle and checked it for the eighth time in as many minutes. He found a grains of sand near the trigger guard and hastily wiped them away. The gun wouldn't actually be effected by sand (it was specifically designed to operate in beach environments) but Kelsey would be leaving nothing to chance. On top of that, he had been waiting around all day and waiting makes one very nervous.
He had seen the advisory from top brass, "The Maximusians will attack before nightfall but not until after the rain has stopped." It was a deadly waiting game now. Kelsey and his fellow soldiers new that Martin was the Maximusians' target. The soldiers also knew that they were the first line of defense, all lined up on the beaches and wharfs, against the impending attack. The only thing they didn't know was "when".
6:25 PM
The firing began all at once. The bullets rained down on the beaches and the docks without mercy. It wasn't long before the hulking silhouettes of troop landers became visible through the gloom. Then the firing really picked up.
Kelsey was blindly shooting. He was just aiming for anything coming out of the water. The crazy thing was, he was certain he landed a few hits. You tell you got a hit when the mass you were shooting at seized up for a minute before continuing on. They weren't fatal shots though. You could always tell when you killed someone because it felt like a little piece of your humanity died too.
A grenade suddenly detonated 40 feet behind Kelsey, knocking him to the ground. Ears ringing, Kelsey began to crawl back towards his dropped firearm. He had to get to his gun. It was a basic survival instinct. Without his gun he would be shot to pieces. In a desperate frenzy, Kelsey lunged towards gun. Wood split everywhere and Kelsey found himself tumbling head over heels into a tidal pool. The critically damaged jetty he had been on clearly couldn't handle his last lunge.
As Kelsey hit the water he was immediately overcome with a true sense of wonder. Just inches bellow the surface were small fish and sand crabs, completely oblivious to the horrors above. A hand grazed Kelsey's face. The water turned red. Kelsey knew before looking that the hand wasn't attached to a limb.
Soaking wet, Kelsey hauled himself up onto the sand bellow what had used to be the jetty. The fighting seemed to have moved south of him a bit. He could see that about a hundred meters to his south that a group of Maximusians had made it over the sand dunes. Once the wall breached in any place it became a useless wall. No need to try to break the wall in other places. This fact had almost certainly saved Kelsey's life.
Andrew Kelsey quietly walked up to an intact part of the jetty and climbed up. As he had assumed, the carnage was severe. Kelsey's CO had taken the grenade right to the face. It would be a closed casket funeral for him. Another soldier was also dead on the jetty, apparently from simple gunfire. As such, his gun, a 12 gauge shotgun, was sitting perfectly intact right next to his body. Kelsey sighed with relief. He was armed again.
Moving swiftly, Kelsey ran the length of the jetty until he was at least 50 meters out on the water. Now, looking towards shore. He could get a sense of where the battle had become more concentrated. It would seem that the beach was now overrun. More and more Maximusian troops were spilling into the town after climbing the sand dunes. It was clear that the Bjeorg soldiers were being massacred at this point.
With all that he had seen in mind, Kelsey decided that sooner, rather than later, would be a good time to make his way inland. He ran along the jetty until he came back to it's destroyed part. He then hopped down into knee deep water and began trudging his way shore. As he walked he impulsively checked the gun over again and again. Safety was off. Shells were all in and loaded correctly (as best as he could tell). Barrel was not bent or obstructed by anything. He was approaching battle again. He worried that this time he wouldn't be as lucky.
5 minutes later
Kelsey crossed quietly from the inner side of the sand dune to the cracked street. He could hear the sounds of battle intensifying with every step. By this point he was behind enemy lines with no exfil and no backup. This was just now dawning on him.
I am going on a suicide mission, aren't I? He thought to himself. I am gonna get within 200 meters of the Maximusians and then the shooting will start. I'll be dead before I reach the stoplight on 5th avenue. Kelsey knew he couldn't think like that if he wanted to survive. The thing was what a man wants and what a man gets are two completely different concepts.
July 30th, 1991 - Mid-Afternoon
Private 1st-Class Andrew Kelsey of the brand new Bjeorg National Army was shuffling nervously as rain poured down on his head. The rains had begun around 3:00 AM and were showing no sign of stopping. It wasn't actually a hard rain, nor was it a particularly cold rain. It was just the type of rain that makes you feel miserable inside.
Kelsey picked up his assault rifle and checked it for the eighth time in as many minutes. He found a grains of sand near the trigger guard and hastily wiped them away. The gun wouldn't actually be effected by sand (it was specifically designed to operate in beach environments) but Kelsey would be leaving nothing to chance. On top of that, he had been waiting around all day and waiting makes one very nervous.
He had seen the advisory from top brass, "The Maximusians will attack before nightfall but not until after the rain has stopped." It was a deadly waiting game now. Kelsey and his fellow soldiers new that Martin was the Maximusians' target. The soldiers also knew that they were the first line of defense, all lined up on the beaches and wharfs, against the impending attack. The only thing they didn't know was "when".
6:25 PM
The firing began all at once. The bullets rained down on the beaches and the docks without mercy. It wasn't long before the hulking silhouettes of troop landers became visible through the gloom. Then the firing really picked up.
Kelsey was blindly shooting. He was just aiming for anything coming out of the water. The crazy thing was, he was certain he landed a few hits. You tell you got a hit when the mass you were shooting at seized up for a minute before continuing on. They weren't fatal shots though. You could always tell when you killed someone because it felt like a little piece of your humanity died too.
A grenade suddenly detonated 40 feet behind Kelsey, knocking him to the ground. Ears ringing, Kelsey began to crawl back towards his dropped firearm. He had to get to his gun. It was a basic survival instinct. Without his gun he would be shot to pieces. In a desperate frenzy, Kelsey lunged towards gun. Wood split everywhere and Kelsey found himself tumbling head over heels into a tidal pool. The critically damaged jetty he had been on clearly couldn't handle his last lunge.
As Kelsey hit the water he was immediately overcome with a true sense of wonder. Just inches bellow the surface were small fish and sand crabs, completely oblivious to the horrors above. A hand grazed Kelsey's face. The water turned red. Kelsey knew before looking that the hand wasn't attached to a limb.
Soaking wet, Kelsey hauled himself up onto the sand bellow what had used to be the jetty. The fighting seemed to have moved south of him a bit. He could see that about a hundred meters to his south that a group of Maximusians had made it over the sand dunes. Once the wall breached in any place it became a useless wall. No need to try to break the wall in other places. This fact had almost certainly saved Kelsey's life.
Andrew Kelsey quietly walked up to an intact part of the jetty and climbed up. As he had assumed, the carnage was severe. Kelsey's CO had taken the grenade right to the face. It would be a closed casket funeral for him. Another soldier was also dead on the jetty, apparently from simple gunfire. As such, his gun, a 12 gauge shotgun, was sitting perfectly intact right next to his body. Kelsey sighed with relief. He was armed again.
Moving swiftly, Kelsey ran the length of the jetty until he was at least 50 meters out on the water. Now, looking towards shore. He could get a sense of where the battle had become more concentrated. It would seem that the beach was now overrun. More and more Maximusian troops were spilling into the town after climbing the sand dunes. It was clear that the Bjeorg soldiers were being massacred at this point.
With all that he had seen in mind, Kelsey decided that sooner, rather than later, would be a good time to make his way inland. He ran along the jetty until he came back to it's destroyed part. He then hopped down into knee deep water and began trudging his way shore. As he walked he impulsively checked the gun over again and again. Safety was off. Shells were all in and loaded correctly (as best as he could tell). Barrel was not bent or obstructed by anything. He was approaching battle again. He worried that this time he wouldn't be as lucky.
5 minutes later
Kelsey crossed quietly from the inner side of the sand dune to the cracked street. He could hear the sounds of battle intensifying with every step. By this point he was behind enemy lines with no exfil and no backup. This was just now dawning on him.
I am going on a suicide mission, aren't I? He thought to himself. I am gonna get within 200 meters of the Maximusians and then the shooting will start. I'll be dead before I reach the stoplight on 5th avenue. Kelsey knew he couldn't think like that if he wanted to survive. The thing was what a man wants and what a man gets are two completely different concepts.