Crimmond
01-04-2005, 09:54
[[OOC: Continued from THIS (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=358209). As AMF has informed me that his forces are being drawn back to his nation, I have decided to tie in the end of the war with the beginning of the new era.]]
The final battle had come. General Santiana stood in front of a command tent with his rebellion force. Delta stood on top of a battletank with his Imperial Marines. Both could see each other across the battlefield. Both raised their swords, the only two on the field, and dropped them similtaniously.
The two sides charged each other in what could only be compared to the medieval charges between two armies. Tactics were simple. Outflank and surround the enemy. Then commence the turkey shoot. Only there were no swords or spears in this battle. There were assault rifiles and missiles.
The sounds of the battle echoed across the lands, as bothe Delta and Santiana chraged each other, across the plain outside the city. Explosions, gunfire, screams of the dying and wounded. The stench of burnt flesh from charred tanks and flamethrowers.
Delta paused to look at the warfare around him and grinned. "The battle goes well! We shall be purged of this filth by midday tommorow!" And then the soldiers heard the incoming sound of shells... but this was different. They sounded... hollow?
Chemical shells burst inside of Delta's armies, wreaking havoc with the unprotected Strike Marines. The Assualt Marines were not affected by the gas, in their sealed suits, but were by the sights and sounds of the choking death that was all around them. This was the first time any battle in Crimmond was fought with such weapons. Delta's forces had none to volley back. But shear numbers overpowered the rebels even still. Soon, the shells stopped raining and Delta looked up to see the explosions of artillery batteries in the rear of Santiana's forces.
The battle was raged around Delta as he fired his rifle into the enemy. That action allwasy seemed wrong to him. Not the killing of another man, but using a gun. He did not like them, prefering hand to hand combat. But he couldn't fight hand to hand here, or so he thought until he saw a man he hadn't seen in months.
Byron Fisk was just under seven feet tall and just above 480 lbs. He was leading a charge of marines against the rebels, but he wasn't carrying any weapons. He wasn't even wearing armor(probably, Delta thought, because he couldn't find anything big enough). Brawling his way through the enemy, he was picking up the enemy soldiers and heaving across the battlefiled by an arm or a leg. After a while, he did find a weapon... A steel signpost. In his bloodlust with that, he overran a position and secured it, nearly singlehandedly. He was hot a few times, but he didn't feel it, even when a medic ordered him to go to the medical center.
Delta, meanwhile, only caught a bit of that as he pressed on, charging a pillbox with a squad. The pillbox was taken quickly and the unarmored Agent turned General lept to teh top of it, trying to survey the battle.
The field seemed silent to him. He thought his ears had failed him until he took a breath and realized that the sound was gone from around him. He had heard about such events. In the midst of a battle, some unseen weather pattern disrupted sound across the battlefield. It had been happening for centuries. He stood their, deaf to the war.
He heard a sound behind him, though. Terribly loud... He looked down at his chest and saw a hole in his shirt, dark red blood running from it.
The final battle had come. General Santiana stood in front of a command tent with his rebellion force. Delta stood on top of a battletank with his Imperial Marines. Both could see each other across the battlefield. Both raised their swords, the only two on the field, and dropped them similtaniously.
The two sides charged each other in what could only be compared to the medieval charges between two armies. Tactics were simple. Outflank and surround the enemy. Then commence the turkey shoot. Only there were no swords or spears in this battle. There were assault rifiles and missiles.
The sounds of the battle echoed across the lands, as bothe Delta and Santiana chraged each other, across the plain outside the city. Explosions, gunfire, screams of the dying and wounded. The stench of burnt flesh from charred tanks and flamethrowers.
Delta paused to look at the warfare around him and grinned. "The battle goes well! We shall be purged of this filth by midday tommorow!" And then the soldiers heard the incoming sound of shells... but this was different. They sounded... hollow?
Chemical shells burst inside of Delta's armies, wreaking havoc with the unprotected Strike Marines. The Assualt Marines were not affected by the gas, in their sealed suits, but were by the sights and sounds of the choking death that was all around them. This was the first time any battle in Crimmond was fought with such weapons. Delta's forces had none to volley back. But shear numbers overpowered the rebels even still. Soon, the shells stopped raining and Delta looked up to see the explosions of artillery batteries in the rear of Santiana's forces.
The battle was raged around Delta as he fired his rifle into the enemy. That action allwasy seemed wrong to him. Not the killing of another man, but using a gun. He did not like them, prefering hand to hand combat. But he couldn't fight hand to hand here, or so he thought until he saw a man he hadn't seen in months.
Byron Fisk was just under seven feet tall and just above 480 lbs. He was leading a charge of marines against the rebels, but he wasn't carrying any weapons. He wasn't even wearing armor(probably, Delta thought, because he couldn't find anything big enough). Brawling his way through the enemy, he was picking up the enemy soldiers and heaving across the battlefiled by an arm or a leg. After a while, he did find a weapon... A steel signpost. In his bloodlust with that, he overran a position and secured it, nearly singlehandedly. He was hot a few times, but he didn't feel it, even when a medic ordered him to go to the medical center.
Delta, meanwhile, only caught a bit of that as he pressed on, charging a pillbox with a squad. The pillbox was taken quickly and the unarmored Agent turned General lept to teh top of it, trying to survey the battle.
The field seemed silent to him. He thought his ears had failed him until he took a breath and realized that the sound was gone from around him. He had heard about such events. In the midst of a battle, some unseen weather pattern disrupted sound across the battlefield. It had been happening for centuries. He stood their, deaf to the war.
He heard a sound behind him, though. Terribly loud... He looked down at his chest and saw a hole in his shirt, dark red blood running from it.