Elesyan
16-10-2008, 02:13
OOC: Please, Tgram me for more information if you would like to join in
Lieutenant Nate Archer watched the body in front of him move silently through the undergrowth of the Elesyan jungles. Floating just inches in front of his eye, a red dot moved ever so slightly as it settled on the center of his back. The Aimpoint told Nate exactly where the bullet was supposed to hit, theoretically bringing down his target. That of course depended on what would happen when the two two three Remington boat tail hollow point did on impact. A center of spine shot would do the trick nicely.
The rest of his small team, an eight man squad he had put together from the rest of his platoon, were split equally on either side of the road, crouching low in the vegetation that lined the road. They had been on the job for two week now, a deep cover patrol set up to intercept supply movements that kept the Elesyan Community Freedom Movement, a fancy name for a socialist or communist or everyone is equal we are just more equal rebellion that had been a plague for the fledgling government. Hitting Stinger/SA-7 hunter killer teams like the one they tracked now were just a benefit of the operation. This was to be the last hit his team carried out on its standard two weeks in, one week out rotation that Alpha Company of the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion took on. At any given time, four platoons were on call with each sending a squad into the jungle for two weeks at a time, and a fifth full platoon was ready on QRF duty. The sixth was off for a week to rest and relax. It had worked well.
Archer let the rifle go slack slowly, pushing it out of the way on its one point sling. With the spec built Bushmaster aside, his left hand came to cover his mouth, his right dropping down his thigh and past the holstered Sig Sauer P226, then around to his back. With his left hand muffling his own voice, he clicked softly to activate the throat mic, addressing the full team.
“No guns, we are close enough. Take them wet. Ricky, don’t shoot.”
“Wouldn’t do me much good sir,” a young voice came back in his ear piece. “At this range, the round would go right through ‘em, not do the fun expanding part.”
Ricky was Richard Thomas, the team’s sniper, and the team’s youngest of just twenty three. He was also inadvertently the most wanted man by the ECFM, having at least eighty confirmed kills in the three years the low intensity conflict had been raging now.
“On my go in three…”
Archer’s right hand wrapped around the grip of the Ka Bar on his belt, pulling the large fighting knife from its sheath. The ECFM patrol of four had just past him, the tail end machine gunner not even a yard away.
“Two…”
He pushed down on the balls of his feet, preparing himself to pounce forward, his muscles going tight as he readied to move. He noticed just the slightest movement in the bushes ahead and across from him, his squad’s sergeant, Brad Holland preparing himself the same way.
“One!” he whispered harshly, the throat mic sending out the go command to the rest of his team.
Archer exploded out from the ditch lining the dirt path, his body slamming full on into the tail end gunner of the patrol, momentum carrying him across the path and into the opposite ditch. A flash of human bodies going the other direction let him know Brad had taken the third in line in the exact same maneuver. Archer brought the Ka Bar into the body of his target, first up under the ribs, then several stabs going into the chest cavity from the side, nicking against bone, and a final, deep slash across the throat. The thirty two year old sergeant was doing the same in the ditch across the way. The second in line was dropped on the spot as the well built Elesyan machine gunner, his Imitoran purchased M250 Squad Automatic Assault Weapon slung over his back, brought all his bulk down on the man, his large machete like knife hacking into the rebel’s throat. As the point man turned, bringing around his AK, three silenced Bushmaster’s opened fire, sending death in the form of 62gr Barnes Triple Shock into the man’s body. He spasamed as the rounds slammed into his chest, shaking as the rounds tore through muscle, and then dropped. The machine gunner, a corporal, wrapped his hand around what was left of the neck of his target, and pulled him off the trail. Ricky jumped out from his hand, rifle slung, and quickly ran over to the point man, grabbing him by the shoulder straps of his load kit, and pulled him off into the ditch. The entire engagement had lasted hardly more than five seconds from the moment Archer exploded forward to the point where Ricky pulled the body of the path.
Silence returned to their small corner of the jungle as the sounds of artillery far in the distance peppered the overall quiet. The jungle was quiet; it knew full well what had just happened, four more lives snuffed out. The tail end gunner had been holding a Russian machine gun of some type that was almost as large as its user. The dead body belonged to someone who couldn’t have been more than twenty five, just three years junior to the lieutenant. Archer observed him for a moment, wondering what it was about the ECFM that attracted the young men, mostly naturalized Elesyans but also young, idealistic outsiders. A few weeks prior, he had found a passport from an American, and another that claimed Tanaaran citizenship on two dead bodies. He sighed, and turned to watch his machine gunner and DMR/spotter grab the three Stingers and an SA-7 from the path, then slink back into the bush.
“Alright. Good job, let’s get the hell out of here.” A few grunts came back, loud enough to be heard beyond his earpiece.
__
“You sure you want to stay?” Archer shouted over the roar of the hovering helicopter, a well used UH-1N.
Ricky nodded. “Yeah boss! I figure Sam ‘n I can put some hurt on whatever is left of those mansams. Open it up a bit for some more over flights.”
Nate Archer nodded, silently marveling at the young man. “Alright. Wait here for a bit, I’ll have them radio in for some more supplies. Anything you need?”
“Just coke and beer. We can catch our own food.”
Archer checked over Ricky’s shoulder, watching his team’s DMR/spotter keep a secure watch with his Springfield M1A. He nodded. His ear piece chirped, and the pilot of the UH-1N gave a ten second warning. They had been hovering just a few feet above the ground for thirty seconds now, and the rest of the eight man team had climbed on, their replacements piling off and heading towards their first check point. Lance Corporal Ricky Thomas and his spotter, Private James Wells, would be on their own, low on ammo for at least a half hour before a resupply bird could drop more ammo on the ground.
“Take care of yourself!” he shouted, turning towards the helicopter. Ricky and his spotter retreated to the edge of the clearing as the helicopter rose quickly, turning west, and moving low and fast out of the combat area. Silence returned, and the two began to wait.
__
The Elesyan Defense Force had been engaging the ECFM in earnest for just north of five years straight, in battles ranging from low intensity shouting matches with rifles, to full on, several day long combat engagements. It had taken three years to do anything more than compete for who held the edge of the Elesyan jungles, but good planning and the return of a full battalion from training had changed things up. Within months, the EDF was pushing the ECFM back towards the Greysky Mountains, and doing it well. The push through the jungle had taken a much larger toll on the EDF forces, but not enough to seriously thin out the numbers to the point that the ECFM were at an advantage. Numerically, they were superior, but that had been their only advantage. The EDF knew the jungle and foot hills just as well as the ECFM, and had an uninterrupted supply line. The rebels also had nothing that could even be considered air support. The 1st and 3rd Tactical Forward Attack Air Wing, in combination with the now well trained and experienced 1st Reconnaissance Battalion had easily turned the favor to the EDF.
However, they were now stalled up. The ECFM had made the decision to fully dig in, and were now offering a true resistance. The sudden presence of man portable surface to air missiles had started claiming the low and slow flying Cessna pusher pullers that the EDF used in the CAS roll, and the older UH-1Ns were easy targets. The Recces had started going off in hunter killer operations, but it was a slow fight to find a four or five man team in a massive jungle. It was also around that time that the Elesyans started looking at their neighbors and asking for some help.
The Imitorans had been the first to respond positively, starting off by giving, at great discount, IMI small arms and weapons, equipping the entirety of the regular EDF with the full stocked AR-65s and collapsing stock CAR-65s, the M250, and other weapons. They further helped negotiate a deal to equip the EDF regulars with the Sig Sauer P250 pistol as their primary side arm. Still, it would take more than weapons.
General Kevin James Snow was the only person in the entire EDF that held the rank, and was, in theory, the most powerful man in the EDF. Of course, he had a handful of colonels and majors, a few more captains and lieutenants, and a good chunk of NCOs running the rest of the show, but still, being a General held some pull. His home had become the Forward Operations Base where he directed actions from, and slowly life on the front line had him channeling Patton. The last radio communication he received from a field commander had demanded that they stop “holding their ground” and start pushing into the ECFM.
It hadn’t been disastrous, but now in taking a small elevated point in the foot hills, he had near lost a full company. It had been the 1st TAAW sweeping in with old fashioned napalm to clear out the well dug in communist fighters. Kevin’s only real solace was that the 1st Elesyan Rifle Regiment was en route and combat ready, and the last report said the Imitorans had landed, but their two commanding officers, Major Douglass Reynolds and Major Robert Fortier, were doing some sort of orientation. The General had no clue what that exactly was, but all he knew is that the Imitorans had said they needed three days, and they’d be ready to go.
He sighed, and looked at his map again. It would be the TMZ forces that he needed most right now. If they could get enough men and women in from the east, it would form one hell of an L corridor that would force the ECFM west and north. North meant up the Greysky Range, and out into the open. West meant out of the jungle, and into swamps and then out into the open. East or south meant right into the Elesyan and TMZ forces.
Lieutenant Nate Archer watched the body in front of him move silently through the undergrowth of the Elesyan jungles. Floating just inches in front of his eye, a red dot moved ever so slightly as it settled on the center of his back. The Aimpoint told Nate exactly where the bullet was supposed to hit, theoretically bringing down his target. That of course depended on what would happen when the two two three Remington boat tail hollow point did on impact. A center of spine shot would do the trick nicely.
The rest of his small team, an eight man squad he had put together from the rest of his platoon, were split equally on either side of the road, crouching low in the vegetation that lined the road. They had been on the job for two week now, a deep cover patrol set up to intercept supply movements that kept the Elesyan Community Freedom Movement, a fancy name for a socialist or communist or everyone is equal we are just more equal rebellion that had been a plague for the fledgling government. Hitting Stinger/SA-7 hunter killer teams like the one they tracked now were just a benefit of the operation. This was to be the last hit his team carried out on its standard two weeks in, one week out rotation that Alpha Company of the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion took on. At any given time, four platoons were on call with each sending a squad into the jungle for two weeks at a time, and a fifth full platoon was ready on QRF duty. The sixth was off for a week to rest and relax. It had worked well.
Archer let the rifle go slack slowly, pushing it out of the way on its one point sling. With the spec built Bushmaster aside, his left hand came to cover his mouth, his right dropping down his thigh and past the holstered Sig Sauer P226, then around to his back. With his left hand muffling his own voice, he clicked softly to activate the throat mic, addressing the full team.
“No guns, we are close enough. Take them wet. Ricky, don’t shoot.”
“Wouldn’t do me much good sir,” a young voice came back in his ear piece. “At this range, the round would go right through ‘em, not do the fun expanding part.”
Ricky was Richard Thomas, the team’s sniper, and the team’s youngest of just twenty three. He was also inadvertently the most wanted man by the ECFM, having at least eighty confirmed kills in the three years the low intensity conflict had been raging now.
“On my go in three…”
Archer’s right hand wrapped around the grip of the Ka Bar on his belt, pulling the large fighting knife from its sheath. The ECFM patrol of four had just past him, the tail end machine gunner not even a yard away.
“Two…”
He pushed down on the balls of his feet, preparing himself to pounce forward, his muscles going tight as he readied to move. He noticed just the slightest movement in the bushes ahead and across from him, his squad’s sergeant, Brad Holland preparing himself the same way.
“One!” he whispered harshly, the throat mic sending out the go command to the rest of his team.
Archer exploded out from the ditch lining the dirt path, his body slamming full on into the tail end gunner of the patrol, momentum carrying him across the path and into the opposite ditch. A flash of human bodies going the other direction let him know Brad had taken the third in line in the exact same maneuver. Archer brought the Ka Bar into the body of his target, first up under the ribs, then several stabs going into the chest cavity from the side, nicking against bone, and a final, deep slash across the throat. The thirty two year old sergeant was doing the same in the ditch across the way. The second in line was dropped on the spot as the well built Elesyan machine gunner, his Imitoran purchased M250 Squad Automatic Assault Weapon slung over his back, brought all his bulk down on the man, his large machete like knife hacking into the rebel’s throat. As the point man turned, bringing around his AK, three silenced Bushmaster’s opened fire, sending death in the form of 62gr Barnes Triple Shock into the man’s body. He spasamed as the rounds slammed into his chest, shaking as the rounds tore through muscle, and then dropped. The machine gunner, a corporal, wrapped his hand around what was left of the neck of his target, and pulled him off the trail. Ricky jumped out from his hand, rifle slung, and quickly ran over to the point man, grabbing him by the shoulder straps of his load kit, and pulled him off into the ditch. The entire engagement had lasted hardly more than five seconds from the moment Archer exploded forward to the point where Ricky pulled the body of the path.
Silence returned to their small corner of the jungle as the sounds of artillery far in the distance peppered the overall quiet. The jungle was quiet; it knew full well what had just happened, four more lives snuffed out. The tail end gunner had been holding a Russian machine gun of some type that was almost as large as its user. The dead body belonged to someone who couldn’t have been more than twenty five, just three years junior to the lieutenant. Archer observed him for a moment, wondering what it was about the ECFM that attracted the young men, mostly naturalized Elesyans but also young, idealistic outsiders. A few weeks prior, he had found a passport from an American, and another that claimed Tanaaran citizenship on two dead bodies. He sighed, and turned to watch his machine gunner and DMR/spotter grab the three Stingers and an SA-7 from the path, then slink back into the bush.
“Alright. Good job, let’s get the hell out of here.” A few grunts came back, loud enough to be heard beyond his earpiece.
__
“You sure you want to stay?” Archer shouted over the roar of the hovering helicopter, a well used UH-1N.
Ricky nodded. “Yeah boss! I figure Sam ‘n I can put some hurt on whatever is left of those mansams. Open it up a bit for some more over flights.”
Nate Archer nodded, silently marveling at the young man. “Alright. Wait here for a bit, I’ll have them radio in for some more supplies. Anything you need?”
“Just coke and beer. We can catch our own food.”
Archer checked over Ricky’s shoulder, watching his team’s DMR/spotter keep a secure watch with his Springfield M1A. He nodded. His ear piece chirped, and the pilot of the UH-1N gave a ten second warning. They had been hovering just a few feet above the ground for thirty seconds now, and the rest of the eight man team had climbed on, their replacements piling off and heading towards their first check point. Lance Corporal Ricky Thomas and his spotter, Private James Wells, would be on their own, low on ammo for at least a half hour before a resupply bird could drop more ammo on the ground.
“Take care of yourself!” he shouted, turning towards the helicopter. Ricky and his spotter retreated to the edge of the clearing as the helicopter rose quickly, turning west, and moving low and fast out of the combat area. Silence returned, and the two began to wait.
__
The Elesyan Defense Force had been engaging the ECFM in earnest for just north of five years straight, in battles ranging from low intensity shouting matches with rifles, to full on, several day long combat engagements. It had taken three years to do anything more than compete for who held the edge of the Elesyan jungles, but good planning and the return of a full battalion from training had changed things up. Within months, the EDF was pushing the ECFM back towards the Greysky Mountains, and doing it well. The push through the jungle had taken a much larger toll on the EDF forces, but not enough to seriously thin out the numbers to the point that the ECFM were at an advantage. Numerically, they were superior, but that had been their only advantage. The EDF knew the jungle and foot hills just as well as the ECFM, and had an uninterrupted supply line. The rebels also had nothing that could even be considered air support. The 1st and 3rd Tactical Forward Attack Air Wing, in combination with the now well trained and experienced 1st Reconnaissance Battalion had easily turned the favor to the EDF.
However, they were now stalled up. The ECFM had made the decision to fully dig in, and were now offering a true resistance. The sudden presence of man portable surface to air missiles had started claiming the low and slow flying Cessna pusher pullers that the EDF used in the CAS roll, and the older UH-1Ns were easy targets. The Recces had started going off in hunter killer operations, but it was a slow fight to find a four or five man team in a massive jungle. It was also around that time that the Elesyans started looking at their neighbors and asking for some help.
The Imitorans had been the first to respond positively, starting off by giving, at great discount, IMI small arms and weapons, equipping the entirety of the regular EDF with the full stocked AR-65s and collapsing stock CAR-65s, the M250, and other weapons. They further helped negotiate a deal to equip the EDF regulars with the Sig Sauer P250 pistol as their primary side arm. Still, it would take more than weapons.
General Kevin James Snow was the only person in the entire EDF that held the rank, and was, in theory, the most powerful man in the EDF. Of course, he had a handful of colonels and majors, a few more captains and lieutenants, and a good chunk of NCOs running the rest of the show, but still, being a General held some pull. His home had become the Forward Operations Base where he directed actions from, and slowly life on the front line had him channeling Patton. The last radio communication he received from a field commander had demanded that they stop “holding their ground” and start pushing into the ECFM.
It hadn’t been disastrous, but now in taking a small elevated point in the foot hills, he had near lost a full company. It had been the 1st TAAW sweeping in with old fashioned napalm to clear out the well dug in communist fighters. Kevin’s only real solace was that the 1st Elesyan Rifle Regiment was en route and combat ready, and the last report said the Imitorans had landed, but their two commanding officers, Major Douglass Reynolds and Major Robert Fortier, were doing some sort of orientation. The General had no clue what that exactly was, but all he knew is that the Imitorans had said they needed three days, and they’d be ready to go.
He sighed, and looked at his map again. It would be the TMZ forces that he needed most right now. If they could get enough men and women in from the east, it would form one hell of an L corridor that would force the ECFM west and north. North meant up the Greysky Range, and out into the open. West meant out of the jungle, and into swamps and then out into the open. East or south meant right into the Elesyan and TMZ forces.