Post by Beta 112 on Jun 6, 2009 22:56:30 GMT -5
How much can happen in fifteen seconds?
This much:
Dumas stood on the lip of the gunship, the wind rushing through his hair as they sped towards the execution grounds, already a firefight had broken out there. It had been fifteen seconds, and Gensing had a lot of pressure on him, he was surprised that he could hold up, but he was.
Fifteen more seconds. Fourteen. Thirteen. And then the ICP’s air defenses kicked in. He could see the rounds as they tore through a helicopter next to him, turning it into burning scrap metal as it plummeted to the forest below.
Dumas was surprisingly calm, even to himself, as he wrapped his fingers around the stock of the Gatling gun that accompanied him at the edge of the helicopter. He pulled the trigger impatiently waiting for the gun to warm up as the six barrels slowly turned.
He focused on an advancing ICP Avenger sub-fighter gunship speeding towards him, it’s guns blazing as it tore through another of their helicopters. Dumas aimed a little in front of where the sub-fighter was, watching as the lead rounds slowly shredded the odd looking plane.
Dumas never let up on the trigger, he simply focused on another target, this time another helicopter gunship, this one coming directly at them, it’s own guns blazing. Dumas gritted his teeth and kept his gun on the other helicopter, ignoring the sparks and bullets passing inches from his own head.
For a brief instant the two gunships passed within a few meters from each other, and Dumas watched as the other machine gunner on the ship was turned into a bloody mush, his own blood forming a mist around him. The helicopter exploded and plummeted to the ground…
Siberius did his best to keep control of the helicopter as it came rapidly up on the execution grounds, but there was simply too much opposition, the ICP helicopters and sub-fighters which had transported the spectators to the grounds had all mobilized, against them.
Hundreds of rounds shredded the protective armor of the helicopter, and it’s aerodynamics were rapidly compromised, the whole body of the gunship shaking with the air resistance. They were losing altitude, rapidly. Siberius’s view was shaking too much to see anything, he couldn’t operate the ships mounted guns like this.
They were just in front of the execution grounds now, and he had just enough time for one last maneuver, not a very precise one at that. Siberius took a split second to calm himself, and took in the situation on the execution grounds.
He only had enough time to take in one thing, a ICP sub-fighter, which was a odd looking plane/helicopter that had both a set of propellers and helicopter blades. It’s blades were starting to spin, preparing to take off, probably with some high value targets attempting to flee in it.
Siberius chose his last maneuver, he directed the descending helicopter on a collision course with the sub-fighter. He wondered for a split second if he would survive this, but then again, who cared, if they failed here they would all be killed anyway.
He looked back to where Dumas and Isabella were still shooting, oblivious to the fact that they were about to crash “Brace for-” Siberius tried to say but his words were taken from him when the nose of gunship slammed into the solid marble of the execution grounds.
Dumas let out a roar and tore the Gatling gun from it’s mount and let loose a stream of fire at the passing benches and fleeing ICP forces. Isabella bailed, he saw her slamming into a ICP fire team as she rolled away from the wreak, but then the view was taken from him as they slid along the ground in a cocoon of fire and sparks.
Siberius wrenched his gaze from the events at the back of the helicopter and looked forward, just in tome to see them slam into a sub-fighter that had lifted a single inch from the ground…
Isabella almost bit her own tongue off when they hit the ground, she hit her head off the corner of the opening that she had just been shooting through, feeling the splitting pain immediately. She took a second to regain herself, Dumas was still shooting, somehow, Siberius looked dazed, as she must too.
They were sliding, thousands of sparks shot up from the bottom of the helicopter life so many tiny fireworks, each one confusing her as it danced in front of her vision. She shook her head and blinker her eyes.
No time to be getting all dazed, have to do my job. She told herself calmly as she assed the situation. Not good. She bailed, jumping into the cascading sparks in a hunched position, rolling perfectly as she hit the ground.
She slammed into something soft. Good soft, soft was good, better than further concussing herself on something hard. Oh wait. Oh sh*t. She looked at what she had slammed into, soldiers.
She was still holding her massive sniper rifle. d**nit, should have swapped for something else while I was in the helicopter, f**k, this is going to be bad. She whipped her rifle up to the nearest soldier who was still standing. She was still laying on the one she had slammed into, but there were three more who had remained standing, all of them looking surprised, but not for long.
She shot the one she had pointed her gun at. But she hadn’t leveled the rifle right, and had just pulled the trigger as fast as she could. The rifles kick almost broke her forearms, but her grip on it was loose and instead it arced up into the air in a rapid spinning motion.
The soldiers chest cavity exploded, Isabella was unfazed. That was what happened when you shot someone point-blank with a rifle meant to hit targets from a dozen miles. The other two suddenly went for their guns, she rolled away, drawing her sidearm as she did so.
She didn’t even look when she shot, at this range it didn’t matter. She unloaded half her clip in the general area of the two standing soldiers. She was faster than the, and before they could fire a single shot at her, or aim for that matter, they each had a chest full of lead.
Isabella shot the one on the ground quickly, without remorse, and took cover behind one of the marble seats that adorned the execution ground…
This much:
Dumas stood on the lip of the gunship, the wind rushing through his hair as they sped towards the execution grounds, already a firefight had broken out there. It had been fifteen seconds, and Gensing had a lot of pressure on him, he was surprised that he could hold up, but he was.
Fifteen more seconds. Fourteen. Thirteen. And then the ICP’s air defenses kicked in. He could see the rounds as they tore through a helicopter next to him, turning it into burning scrap metal as it plummeted to the forest below.
Dumas was surprisingly calm, even to himself, as he wrapped his fingers around the stock of the Gatling gun that accompanied him at the edge of the helicopter. He pulled the trigger impatiently waiting for the gun to warm up as the six barrels slowly turned.
He focused on an advancing ICP Avenger sub-fighter gunship speeding towards him, it’s guns blazing as it tore through another of their helicopters. Dumas aimed a little in front of where the sub-fighter was, watching as the lead rounds slowly shredded the odd looking plane.
Dumas never let up on the trigger, he simply focused on another target, this time another helicopter gunship, this one coming directly at them, it’s own guns blazing. Dumas gritted his teeth and kept his gun on the other helicopter, ignoring the sparks and bullets passing inches from his own head.
For a brief instant the two gunships passed within a few meters from each other, and Dumas watched as the other machine gunner on the ship was turned into a bloody mush, his own blood forming a mist around him. The helicopter exploded and plummeted to the ground…
Siberius did his best to keep control of the helicopter as it came rapidly up on the execution grounds, but there was simply too much opposition, the ICP helicopters and sub-fighters which had transported the spectators to the grounds had all mobilized, against them.
Hundreds of rounds shredded the protective armor of the helicopter, and it’s aerodynamics were rapidly compromised, the whole body of the gunship shaking with the air resistance. They were losing altitude, rapidly. Siberius’s view was shaking too much to see anything, he couldn’t operate the ships mounted guns like this.
They were just in front of the execution grounds now, and he had just enough time for one last maneuver, not a very precise one at that. Siberius took a split second to calm himself, and took in the situation on the execution grounds.
He only had enough time to take in one thing, a ICP sub-fighter, which was a odd looking plane/helicopter that had both a set of propellers and helicopter blades. It’s blades were starting to spin, preparing to take off, probably with some high value targets attempting to flee in it.
Siberius chose his last maneuver, he directed the descending helicopter on a collision course with the sub-fighter. He wondered for a split second if he would survive this, but then again, who cared, if they failed here they would all be killed anyway.
He looked back to where Dumas and Isabella were still shooting, oblivious to the fact that they were about to crash “Brace for-” Siberius tried to say but his words were taken from him when the nose of gunship slammed into the solid marble of the execution grounds.
Dumas let out a roar and tore the Gatling gun from it’s mount and let loose a stream of fire at the passing benches and fleeing ICP forces. Isabella bailed, he saw her slamming into a ICP fire team as she rolled away from the wreak, but then the view was taken from him as they slid along the ground in a cocoon of fire and sparks.
Siberius wrenched his gaze from the events at the back of the helicopter and looked forward, just in tome to see them slam into a sub-fighter that had lifted a single inch from the ground…
Isabella almost bit her own tongue off when they hit the ground, she hit her head off the corner of the opening that she had just been shooting through, feeling the splitting pain immediately. She took a second to regain herself, Dumas was still shooting, somehow, Siberius looked dazed, as she must too.
They were sliding, thousands of sparks shot up from the bottom of the helicopter life so many tiny fireworks, each one confusing her as it danced in front of her vision. She shook her head and blinker her eyes.
No time to be getting all dazed, have to do my job. She told herself calmly as she assed the situation. Not good. She bailed, jumping into the cascading sparks in a hunched position, rolling perfectly as she hit the ground.
She slammed into something soft. Good soft, soft was good, better than further concussing herself on something hard. Oh wait. Oh sh*t. She looked at what she had slammed into, soldiers.
She was still holding her massive sniper rifle. d**nit, should have swapped for something else while I was in the helicopter, f**k, this is going to be bad. She whipped her rifle up to the nearest soldier who was still standing. She was still laying on the one she had slammed into, but there were three more who had remained standing, all of them looking surprised, but not for long.
She shot the one she had pointed her gun at. But she hadn’t leveled the rifle right, and had just pulled the trigger as fast as she could. The rifles kick almost broke her forearms, but her grip on it was loose and instead it arced up into the air in a rapid spinning motion.
The soldiers chest cavity exploded, Isabella was unfazed. That was what happened when you shot someone point-blank with a rifle meant to hit targets from a dozen miles. The other two suddenly went for their guns, she rolled away, drawing her sidearm as she did so.
She didn’t even look when she shot, at this range it didn’t matter. She unloaded half her clip in the general area of the two standing soldiers. She was faster than the, and before they could fire a single shot at her, or aim for that matter, they each had a chest full of lead.
Isabella shot the one on the ground quickly, without remorse, and took cover behind one of the marble seats that adorned the execution ground…
