Jackson Mills
Staff Sergeant, First Order Stormtrooper Corps
Tag: [member="Dean Letham"] [member="Gunther Creed"]
(2/20)
[SIZE=12pt] “Abrams! Displace to the left flank!” Sergeant Mills ordered, screaming to be heard over the sound of gunfire and incoming blaster bolts. The Vagaari had begun to grow more and more aggressive with their tactics toward the stranded Marines since they had realized that they weren’t just going to give up and die. They had started sending out skirmishers to engage with the Marines at close range, which was forcing the Marines to be much more fluid with their defensive positions. When one flank got more attention from the Vagaari, that flank got more attention from the Marines. The only reason that they weren’t dead yet was the cover provided by the crater, and their ability to access the wrecked dropships arms locker to stock up on ammunition. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Jackson raised himself up over the edge of the crater and saw a Vagaari soldier running toward a piece of rubble near the crash site for cover. Before he could get there the Sergeant fired the last five rounds in his magazine at him. Two of the rounds went wide, but three of them caught the enemy soldier in the chest. Ichor and tissue exploded from the exit wounds, and the soldier crumpled in a heap on the street. The assault rifle in his hands was smoking now from the sheer volume of fire that he had been pouring through it, and he decided it would be unsafe to continue to feed ammunition through it until it cooled down. He sought cover in the crater once more, set the rifle on the ground, and grabbed another one from next to him. They had each taken turns going into the dropship and removing rifles and ammunition and laying them out at the different flanks for quick access. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Jack slid a fresh magazine into the mag well of his rifle and slapped it home, then yanked the charging handle sending a round into the chamber. He was acting completely on auto pilot now, having performed these actions dozens of times in just the last few minutes. His head was throbbing and he was fairly certain that he had a concussion, but the adrenaline from the fight was keeping him going now. He could deal with head trauma later, but only if he lived that long. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]He raised out of the crater again, and again sighted in on the new targets that had presented themselves. He fired on them, taking down two but missing two others who managed to make it to cover, and proceeded to fire blindly around cover toward their position. Mills was about to start suppressing fire, but stopped himself and glanced back toward the waning ammunition supply. They’d be down to pistols soon at this rate. “No suppressing fire!” He called to the Marines. “Try to keep it to three and four round bursts!”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]“They’re charging middle!” Called MacMillan, who was sharing the middle flank with Jones.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]“On my way!” Jackson responded. He turned to Corporal Taylor and gestured for him to remain on right flank, then moved to the center. There were about a dozen Vagaari making a mad charge toward them from across the street. Mills, MacMillan and Jones all fired into the mob, shredding them. One actually made it to the crater, but several rounds from the Sergeants rifle tore through the abdomen of the creature and sending it cartwheeling into the crater lifelessly. Some of the blood from that engagement spattered onto Jacksons chest plate, and he wiped it with his off hand. He thought for a moment that he could try and boost the morale of the troops nearest him, and he begun wryly, “Man, I just had this thing dryclea-” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Abruptly the wind was knocked out of him and he fell back onto the ground. He gasped for air, and finally it came back to him. He felt his chest plate and found a deep, hot, blackened gash that didn’t quite penetrate the plate. A bolt from a blaster rifle had glanced off of his chest plate and knocked him back. He rolled his eyes and cried out, “Those suckers shot me. They shot me!” he turned to the Marines who were looking at him with concern. “Man the line! I’m fine…” He said, then scooped up his rifle and returned to right flank. “This is not my best day ever.” He muttered under his breath, then resumed firing on their attackers. [/SIZE]
(2/20)
[SIZE=12pt] “Abrams! Displace to the left flank!” Sergeant Mills ordered, screaming to be heard over the sound of gunfire and incoming blaster bolts. The Vagaari had begun to grow more and more aggressive with their tactics toward the stranded Marines since they had realized that they weren’t just going to give up and die. They had started sending out skirmishers to engage with the Marines at close range, which was forcing the Marines to be much more fluid with their defensive positions. When one flank got more attention from the Vagaari, that flank got more attention from the Marines. The only reason that they weren’t dead yet was the cover provided by the crater, and their ability to access the wrecked dropships arms locker to stock up on ammunition. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Jackson raised himself up over the edge of the crater and saw a Vagaari soldier running toward a piece of rubble near the crash site for cover. Before he could get there the Sergeant fired the last five rounds in his magazine at him. Two of the rounds went wide, but three of them caught the enemy soldier in the chest. Ichor and tissue exploded from the exit wounds, and the soldier crumpled in a heap on the street. The assault rifle in his hands was smoking now from the sheer volume of fire that he had been pouring through it, and he decided it would be unsafe to continue to feed ammunition through it until it cooled down. He sought cover in the crater once more, set the rifle on the ground, and grabbed another one from next to him. They had each taken turns going into the dropship and removing rifles and ammunition and laying them out at the different flanks for quick access. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Jack slid a fresh magazine into the mag well of his rifle and slapped it home, then yanked the charging handle sending a round into the chamber. He was acting completely on auto pilot now, having performed these actions dozens of times in just the last few minutes. His head was throbbing and he was fairly certain that he had a concussion, but the adrenaline from the fight was keeping him going now. He could deal with head trauma later, but only if he lived that long. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]He raised out of the crater again, and again sighted in on the new targets that had presented themselves. He fired on them, taking down two but missing two others who managed to make it to cover, and proceeded to fire blindly around cover toward their position. Mills was about to start suppressing fire, but stopped himself and glanced back toward the waning ammunition supply. They’d be down to pistols soon at this rate. “No suppressing fire!” He called to the Marines. “Try to keep it to three and four round bursts!”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]“They’re charging middle!” Called MacMillan, who was sharing the middle flank with Jones.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]“On my way!” Jackson responded. He turned to Corporal Taylor and gestured for him to remain on right flank, then moved to the center. There were about a dozen Vagaari making a mad charge toward them from across the street. Mills, MacMillan and Jones all fired into the mob, shredding them. One actually made it to the crater, but several rounds from the Sergeants rifle tore through the abdomen of the creature and sending it cartwheeling into the crater lifelessly. Some of the blood from that engagement spattered onto Jacksons chest plate, and he wiped it with his off hand. He thought for a moment that he could try and boost the morale of the troops nearest him, and he begun wryly, “Man, I just had this thing dryclea-” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Abruptly the wind was knocked out of him and he fell back onto the ground. He gasped for air, and finally it came back to him. He felt his chest plate and found a deep, hot, blackened gash that didn’t quite penetrate the plate. A bolt from a blaster rifle had glanced off of his chest plate and knocked him back. He rolled his eyes and cried out, “Those suckers shot me. They shot me!” he turned to the Marines who were looking at him with concern. “Man the line! I’m fine…” He said, then scooped up his rifle and returned to right flank. “This is not my best day ever.” He muttered under his breath, then resumed firing on their attackers. [/SIZE]