What follows is a short snippet of a science fiction piece that I have been working on for awhile called Orgy of Death. Please let me know what you think...
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Staff Sergeant Michael Olsen knew he was rapidly running out of time and options. The seven man squad of which he was the senior enlisted member was as its breaking point. A routine walking patrol along the southern rim of Param city had turned into a nightmarish ambush. After 2nd Lieutenant Adams had been killed gruesomely with a twenty millimeter M.a.s.t., (Magnetically Assisted Slug Thrower), round that eviscerated his skull. The squad took cover by forcing their way into an abandoned taxi stand. Their enemy had launched a heavy assault on the position. Given the sheer amount of direct fire the stand had taken, Sergeant Olsen figured this building would be condemned when this fight was over regardless of the outcome.
The rebel force was making life absolutely miserable for the squad with a variety of M.a.s.t. and A.P.C. (accelerated particle cannon) fire. The squad was however hitting the enemy force back as firing opportunities presented themselves. If his estimates were right, the rebels had taken massive losses, and yet they continued to pour men and equipment into the engagement. He roughly guessed his team had taken out more than forty hostiles and yet they were still seriously outgunned and outnumbered.
One frustrating thing was that each time they made progress in taking a heavy weapon position or a cannon emplacement out a new one would pop up. The men of 1st squad’s morale were low as a result. They did however have much in which they could take pride. They had even staved off two human wave assaults on the front of the taxi stand. And despite the long odds the men had remained disciplined. They had maintained their squad roles effectively and managed to put down witheringly accurate return fire. As their Sergeant, he couldn’t have asked for more from them. If anyone survived the encounter, he planned to insist on commendations for all of them. Especially Lance Corporal Ngyun, as he had braved the rebel fire to recover the body of Lieutenant and his equipment.
Sergeant Olsen would love it if he could say that the corporal acted out of purely altruistic motives. He knew however that to do so would not be entirely true. Mr. Adams in an effort to build morale and camaraderie about six months ago started carrying the team’s support rucksack. The tactic worked, as the men responded to him a lot more knowing that he at least pretended to care about the burden the men he led bore on a daily basis. The rucksack included all of the squad’s support items. Things like extra barrels for the team’s Virtex 730 heavy M.a.s.t. machine gun, spare batteries for the comm. Units, extra detonators for the demo kit, and a smattering of other support items were all in there.
He knew that the corporal had braved the fire as much to recover the rucksack as much as he did for their fallen leader’s body. The practical needs of the squad were at least important as their leader’s corpse. The team only had the one heavy weapon and each man knew that keeping it up and running was their only chance at survival. The weapon did a poor job at managing the dissipation of heat. And as such the barrel would have to be replaced with every 5,000 rounds. Thankfully this task was easy and his men could get it done in an average of five and a half seconds.
The bind the team was in was apparent to the sergeant. The squad was facing a numerically superior force in a good ambush position. They were cut off and from the looks of it, encircled. Any breakout attempt would fail in miserable fashion. The squad’s ammo supply even with disciplined use was about halfway spent. How much longer they could holdout he wasn’t sure, but he knew it wasn’t long.
The key for the team’s survival lie in reinforcement, re-supply, or extraction. The nearest base had ruled out extraction as the situation was too hot for it. Reinforcement would more than likely take too long to reach them. And re-supply was out for the same reason as extraction. So he knew the situation was a grim one. He tried his best not to let on to the men how bad the situation was. He knew they were bright, skilled warriors and that they would figure it out soon enough if they hadn’t already. He was just hoping not to dampen their spirits by being fatalistic with them. The squad would remain a disciplined cohesive force longer that way.
The only bright spot in the situation was that Firebase Goliad, the nearest Imperial Facility was providing excellent indirect fire support. His men would paint the targets with the designators attached to their rifles and Goliad’s artillery would blast it to smithereens. The firebase had devoted their entire compliment of indirect fire tools to their cause, and it had been effective. In fact, the last human wave assault was repelled largely by a barrage of 30 millimeter White Phosphorous High Explosive Shredder rounds.
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Staff Sergeant Michael Olsen knew he was rapidly running out of time and options. The seven man squad of which he was the senior enlisted member was as its breaking point. A routine walking patrol along the southern rim of Param city had turned into a nightmarish ambush. After 2nd Lieutenant Adams had been killed gruesomely with a twenty millimeter M.a.s.t., (Magnetically Assisted Slug Thrower), round that eviscerated his skull. The squad took cover by forcing their way into an abandoned taxi stand. Their enemy had launched a heavy assault on the position. Given the sheer amount of direct fire the stand had taken, Sergeant Olsen figured this building would be condemned when this fight was over regardless of the outcome.
The rebel force was making life absolutely miserable for the squad with a variety of M.a.s.t. and A.P.C. (accelerated particle cannon) fire. The squad was however hitting the enemy force back as firing opportunities presented themselves. If his estimates were right, the rebels had taken massive losses, and yet they continued to pour men and equipment into the engagement. He roughly guessed his team had taken out more than forty hostiles and yet they were still seriously outgunned and outnumbered.
One frustrating thing was that each time they made progress in taking a heavy weapon position or a cannon emplacement out a new one would pop up. The men of 1st squad’s morale were low as a result. They did however have much in which they could take pride. They had even staved off two human wave assaults on the front of the taxi stand. And despite the long odds the men had remained disciplined. They had maintained their squad roles effectively and managed to put down witheringly accurate return fire. As their Sergeant, he couldn’t have asked for more from them. If anyone survived the encounter, he planned to insist on commendations for all of them. Especially Lance Corporal Ngyun, as he had braved the rebel fire to recover the body of Lieutenant and his equipment.
Sergeant Olsen would love it if he could say that the corporal acted out of purely altruistic motives. He knew however that to do so would not be entirely true. Mr. Adams in an effort to build morale and camaraderie about six months ago started carrying the team’s support rucksack. The tactic worked, as the men responded to him a lot more knowing that he at least pretended to care about the burden the men he led bore on a daily basis. The rucksack included all of the squad’s support items. Things like extra barrels for the team’s Virtex 730 heavy M.a.s.t. machine gun, spare batteries for the comm. Units, extra detonators for the demo kit, and a smattering of other support items were all in there.
He knew that the corporal had braved the fire as much to recover the rucksack as much as he did for their fallen leader’s body. The practical needs of the squad were at least important as their leader’s corpse. The team only had the one heavy weapon and each man knew that keeping it up and running was their only chance at survival. The weapon did a poor job at managing the dissipation of heat. And as such the barrel would have to be replaced with every 5,000 rounds. Thankfully this task was easy and his men could get it done in an average of five and a half seconds.
The bind the team was in was apparent to the sergeant. The squad was facing a numerically superior force in a good ambush position. They were cut off and from the looks of it, encircled. Any breakout attempt would fail in miserable fashion. The squad’s ammo supply even with disciplined use was about halfway spent. How much longer they could holdout he wasn’t sure, but he knew it wasn’t long.
The key for the team’s survival lie in reinforcement, re-supply, or extraction. The nearest base had ruled out extraction as the situation was too hot for it. Reinforcement would more than likely take too long to reach them. And re-supply was out for the same reason as extraction. So he knew the situation was a grim one. He tried his best not to let on to the men how bad the situation was. He knew they were bright, skilled warriors and that they would figure it out soon enough if they hadn’t already. He was just hoping not to dampen their spirits by being fatalistic with them. The squad would remain a disciplined cohesive force longer that way.
The only bright spot in the situation was that Firebase Goliad, the nearest Imperial Facility was providing excellent indirect fire support. His men would paint the targets with the designators attached to their rifles and Goliad’s artillery would blast it to smithereens. The firebase had devoted their entire compliment of indirect fire tools to their cause, and it had been effective. In fact, the last human wave assault was repelled largely by a barrage of 30 millimeter White Phosphorous High Explosive Shredder rounds.
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