FTX 25420701 "Guided Spirit"

[Durant, M.]

0500 Hours, July 1, 2542 (MILITARY CALENDAR) /
Military Wilderness Training Preserve, Highland Mountains,
Reach, Epsilon Eridani System

Sergeant Alexei Romanov surveyed the valley set before him with a crooked grin. For the next week he would find himself leading a Squad of Marines-in-training throughout the valleys and mountains of the military preserve. Memories of his own time spent in the Highland Mountains several years ago filled his mind. They had been some of the worst moments of his life prior to his first deployment, where he met the boogeyman that he had been warned about since his enlistment; the Covenant.

It was after his first combat action that he realized all the pain and misery he suffered through on this eighty-thousand acre preserve had been a valuable training experience. He learned things here about himself that better prepared him for the horrors of war and the sheer slog of combat.

Now, years later, the roles had reversed. Now he was the combat instructor leading his own squad of green-as-grass Marines through the wringer. He was just one squad leader in a platoon filled with battle-tested instructors, that belonged to one of the best training companies in the infantry training battalion.

Bravo Company, First ITB.

Alexei about-faced and watched as the platoon sergeant marched the entire platoon towards their squad leaders, whom stood at the rear gate to the base, dressed in full combat PPE with rifles slung across their backs. He spotted Second Squad amongst the mix, all of them equally adorned in battle rattle and completely oblivious to the slog they would soon experience over the next few days.

The platoon halted just before their squad leaders. Staff Sergeant Ysaris ordered them to parade rest and then marched forward, taking up position in front of the sergeants. Alexei glanced to his left and watched as the platoon commander, First Lieutenant Potter, stepped out of the guard shack. The lieutenant was half-dressed as far as Alexei was concerned. He wore full battle rattle sans helmet, favoring an eight-point cover instead, and a pair of crossbanch camouflage utilities underneath.

If he were to risk a guess as to what was going on, he assumed the lieutenant would not be joining them in the field. The rest of the platoon had been ordered to wear their woodland fatigues and armor. Lieutenant Potter stood out as the odd one out of the group. In all honesty, Romanov was surprised he had even decided to show up for the pre-mission brief.

"PLATOON," Staff Sergeant Ysaris barked, "ATTEN-HUT! Officer on deck!"

The sound of over forty boots clacking together resonated in Romanov's ears as he snapped to the position of attention. Lieutenant Potter stopped before the platoon, standing beside the platoon Sergeant, and smiled before giving the order to relax. Alexei spread his legs apart and placed his hands in front of his crotch, his eyes carefully scrutinizing the young men and women before him.

"Welcome to the Highland Mountains," Lieutenant Potter started, his eyes moving back and forth between each and every Marine under his command set before him. "Today we will be conducting a field training exercise against Charlie Company. The purpose of this exercise is to get you all acclimatized to the principles of land navigation, reacting to contact, and seizing a fortified objective held by a determined enemy. Your target will be a white flag at the center of this valley behind us. In order to reach this flag, you will have to hump twenty klicks through densely forested terrain which may or may not be occupied and patrolled by the enemy."

The Lieutenant paused to take a breath. Alexei focused upon Second Squad, gauging their reactions. So far he could not get a read on them. "Staff Sergeant Ysaris will be in charge of the platoon throughout the course of this exercise, and your squad leaders will be responsible for leading you all to victory. They will be looking out for your safety and with you when you need their help. It is their job to see that you all accomplish your objectives in a timely manner."

Potter turned and nodded to Ysaris and then walked off. Ysaris, taking the cue from the platoon commander, snapped to attention and dismissed the platoon. Alexei stepped forward and cupped his hands in front of his mouth to throw his voice some. "Second Squad, get your shit together. TLs, fall in on me for a meeting! Move!"

[Mihaylov, D.]

Dmitrii was glad when they broke formation. He was still uptight when it came to NCO’s, having just left Boot a matter of days ago. It was not a great place to be, as far as he was concerned, with a lack of sand and surf, but he had made it through the grueling slog of boot camp with almost no scars to show. Now he got his first taste of working himself one step closer to the real deal. The weapon in his hand was real, and while he didn’t have real bullets, there was a sense of danger that the stretch of forest seemed to radiate.

It was also the first real chance he had to interact with his team. Corporal Newman, their team leader, had left to go to the meeting with the Sergeant. That left him, another guy, and an Asian looking girl to mill about with the other marines. Dmitrii had heard their names during roll and team assignments, but he was terrible at remembering. Thankfully, they all wore name tapes.

“So,” he said, looking at his two teammates, speaking English around a heavy Russian accent, “Hopefully we don’t fall on faces first time out. Name is Dmitrii. Pleasure is yours, eh?”

He chuckled at his joke, hoping that his sense of humor translated to English as well as he hoped. He turned and looked back over their home for the next several weeks. It was expansive, as they could see from the viewpoint they had. And somewhere out there was a whole other company waiting to make them look bad. He wasn’t up for that. Even if he lived in the sun and the surf, Dmitrii didn’t much care for loosing.

Dmitrii took a moment to look over his gear. The digital woodland fatigues and body armor were not stylish, by any sense of the word. However, he understood the reason for them, and couldn’t help but feel pride at being in this uniform. His helmet, complete with HUD output, rifled off more information than he could keep up with at this point and he had learned how to limit the info output to a more manageable level. His rifle, however, was a piece of equipment he truly loved. It was lighter than the one he had grown up with, and the optics made his rifle at home look like it was from the Stone Age. He looked forward to the opportunity to use it here and show off why he was awarded the SDM billet.

[Edward, Z.]

Zach sighed internally as they broke formation. He felt that making a good first impression would be a good start. The last two companies he was in, well let's just say very very rocky. Looking at his two squad mates, they'd be the closest thing to a family for a while. So he decided he was going to try his hardest to follow all of his orders, not disobeying them like he used to.


Zach picked up his shotgun. "I'm glad they are letting me use you instead of the standard assault rifles." He said to the gun as he used a piece of his shirt to wipe a smudge on the barrel. Disappointed that he had to use rubber slugs, but guess it's better than actually killing another squad. He looked in his pack to see what his superiors decided to give him. "Hmm 48 shells," he said to himself, two clips for the handgun. Zach checked to see if they found the stash of protien bars that he hide in the bottom of his first aid kit, (12 bars) and he was glad that they haven't been disturbed. He stood back up when he noticed Dmitrii speaking.

"Been there done that, Dmitrii. Let's make this time different." Zach said as he noticed, Dmitrii's chuckle. "By your expression's your straight out of boot camp?" He said raising an eye. Going to say something else but got cut off when his helmet hub came to life. Zach motioned to his hub and walked to a corner.

Zach's voice could barley be heard by his squad. "Look, we are about to start. You just need to reroute the cooling ... Look, even if you get them involved it won't stop me when I start training. ... Electric out." Zach turned off the hub's private channel and walked back over too Dmitrii. 

"Sorry about that. Before I took the job over here I was training an apprentice." He went in his pack and pulled out one of the protein bars. broke a piece off and extended the rest of the bar to Dmitrii. "Want some?" Then extended to Min. "I know we aren't supposed to have food here, but I'm still hungry."

 

[Min Jung Jun]

Min's gut churned nervously when the marines or rather more accurately marines to be broke formation. Despite it being a training operation, such war games were to prepare them all for real combat, the kind where death was not lying on the ground or walking off of the field, death was well death. It never hurt to have more practice in the arts of war. She missed the familiar faces of her old company, possessing little to no desire to get to know her new squad mates or potentially new company.
Not that her squad mates could have known her mindset, since it hurt her considerable to lose anyone. Far better therefore to not get to know the others too well, less they by the farm as it were.

She listened however to their chatter, agreeing to the exchange of first names. "Min." It had been the first time the female marine broke the near uncomfortable silence with her squad. Though none probably would know it yet, her lack of vocal communication happened to be normal behaviour for her, Min preferred to be quiet, listening, never really speaking too much.
Why speak when one usually played the bazooka blues? Surely anyone interested in her silence might find themselves satisfied by that level of sound? She politely declined his offer of a protein bar with a mere shake of her head. Her stomach churned too nervously for her to even consider eating, she feared that if she did indeed consume something, that it might not stay down for long.

Before enlisting, Min had been training to become a Veterinary Surgeon. One good thing about being back on Reach was the simple fact that this planet was home ground, Jun territory as it were. She lived here, well not here exactly but born and raised here on Reach. It pleased her no end to have her boots back on Reach's soil, her home planet. It reminded her what the fight in truth was about, protecting not merely Reach but every human world from the menaces that plagued humanity.

She wrote mental observations of her two companions, one appeared to be fresh out of basic, with that fresh look about him. Perhaps an unfair assessment but few people in her previous company cut her slack, she saw no reason to let such high standards slide. In time she hoped he would prove himself to be an excellent marine, if not the people who depended on him risked suffering as a result. A harsh assessment. Once the novelty of his gear wore off she felt certain that the look of a man out of basic would vanish in time. He must possess potential to have made it this far, she hoped her negative opinion about him vanished in time. To Min it seemed rather wrong to think negatively about someone, especially over stuff that they currently had not been in the possession of the opportunity to prove themselves.
The other, he carried a shotgun, he appeared curious and somewhat guarded, particularly so when he walked away to have a private conversation with something or someone. Min failed to hear his words, everyone was entitled to their own personal secrets. She added another note about him, sneaky, no cunning suited him much better, since he stashed the protein bars.

[Durant, M.]

Sergeant Romanov watched as his team leaders left their teams behind and hastily approached his position. He'd handpicked the trio to command the fire teams of Second Squad due to their outstanding performance, knowledge, and ability to lead. The first to arrive and take a knee before him was Private First Class Jacquelyn Tillman, a freckle-faced young woman of nineteen years old. She had so far managed to pass everyone test and fitness qualification he had thrown at them, and was fastly becoming an expert in small unit tactics.

Private Aurelio Bonavento had started out rough in the leadership department. Romanov had assigned him the fire team leader billet once before at the beginning of training only to have to fire him. He had been timid as a shot caller and hesitated to make tough judgment calls when the need arose. PFC Tillman had gone to boot camp with Bonavento, and it was because of her that the Sergeant decided to give the fresh-faced Marine another shot.

So far, Bonavento had shown him much improvement since his first stint as TL, to which he was grateful. The man had potential to be an outstanding Marine so long as he learned to overcome his fears and insecurities. Hell, Alexei was certain the young man would go on to become a damn fine NCO in the future should he pay attention to everything he tried to teach him.

Finally, last but not least, was Private Hans Gerard. Gerard was a Hungarian native to Reach and physically capable of great feats. While he was not exactly the bulkiest of the Marines in the platoon, he was definitely one of the strongest. More importantly, he possessed a cunning in battle tactics that was far beyond what Romanov had anticipated. The boy was ruthless in his execution of orders and task accomplishment.

With the three TLs assembled, Romanov started his brief. "Alright, Marines, we have quite a hump ahead of us. Twenty klicks stands between us and our objective; twenty klicks of hostile terrain, where we could receive fire at any point in time. You need to stay frosty and make sure your Marines are watching their fire sectors."

Romanov paused. He reached into the center pouch affixed to his armored chestplate and retrieved a datapad. Alexei held it out in front of him, balanced across his palm, and thumbed a button on the side. Suddenly, a holographic topographic representation of their area of operation materialized above the device.

"That," he said, "is our AO. I will be cycling teams on point to test your land nav skills. It will be your responsibility to see us to our objective. I will not help you unless you get us lost, and you better not get us lost. Pay attention to the compass on your HUDs and reference the map you have been issued as much as possible to ensure we are headed in the right direction. Don't be afraid to halt us if you are having trouble figuring our heading out. Kill?"

"Kill!" the team leaders responded in unison.

Sergeant Romanov smiled. "Outstanding. Now, before we get the show on the road, there's gonna be a personnel change. Bonavento, swap your point man with Gerard's Mihaylov. Tillman, I'm putting Private Jun with Bonavento. You're getting Miller. Good to go?"

They all nodded. "Good. Second Team is on point. We're Oscar Mike in two. Fall out."

The team leaders dispersed and returned to their respective teams. Alexei watched as personnel were swapped between the teams and they prepared to move out.

Private Bonavento scrutinized his new billets for a moment. "Mihaylov, you're point man," he said. "Jun, Slackman. Edward, you're still the ammo bitch. Stick to Jun and keep her weapon fed. Sergeant said we move out in two minutes. When we move, we'll be on point, so stay sharp and watch your sectors."

[Mihaylov, D.]

"Point man," Mihaylov said, the faintest sound of disgust creeping into his voice. "Aye Private. Though if you notice optics, I'm built for eS DeM. I do my best though. Hopefully I not stumble into hornet's nest, eh?"

With a chuckle at his own joke, he looked back to his teammates. The little girl with the big gun didn't have much to say, but that was fine with him. The other guy, Edwards, with the apprentice seemed like he must be a reclass, and knew the game, at least a little. Though everything he heard was that being a grunt and being a POG were two different animals. He could only hope that the easy going man adjusted.

"Thas right Edwards," Dmitrii said, finally answering the man's question. "Just fresh from boot camp on other side of planet. I see you are not. Lectric? Sounds like good name to call you."

Dmitrii moved with his team towards the front, getting a glance at the map and starting to open up HUD information to aid him. The pace count was moved to the upper left of his vision, set to ninety percent transparency. While they wouldn't allow them navigation, he did plug in a few landmarks and headings to help him keep the right direction. These woods were nothing like the beaches of his home planet and he didn't want to look a complete fool his first run out. 

"Ready when we are Private," he called back, waiting for the sign to move out. "And make sure you shoot quick and not get me dead, eh?"

[Edward, Z.]

"Ammo Bitch my ass." Zach muttered to himself. He looked at Jun's ammo boxes.. He put his backpack down and laid three sets of ammo belts into it carefully. Closing the pack wasn't as hard as he was thinking. Least when Jun fired her weapon his pack would get lighter. He looked at one of the empty ammo cans, grabbed an old map from the table and folded it neatly and placing a few survival items in it before clipping the can to the top of his pack.

   "Boot camp was a long time ago... and this isn't the first time I've seen action."  There was a reason that Zach had only a couple of friends in the UNSC. Every marine liked other marines. Unfortunately for Zach, he was a reactor technician and got reassigned to play marines. Had to go through the same shit as a marine but in the end. Field time was limited, if any at all.

Zach picked up his gun, looking at the markings on it. M90 CAWS Mk. I . Zach liked it because it was 12 rounds compared to the other models. Only having to watch out due to the limited shells he was given.  He looked at the pistol that was issued to him. Zach hated pistols, no matter how much he practiced he couldn't get any better.

Motioned to Dmitrii that he was ready, after he strapped his pack on. Gun in one hand and a ammo can in the other. "Well I'm ready." Turned to Jun. "Anything else I have to pack for you?  four ammo belts enough for you?"  Zach asked hoping she'd just say that's all. Being a pack mule was no fun, that's what the Warthogs were for.  He was waiting to see  why there sat three ammo cans untouched. Just waiting for someone to realize they were empty.

[Min Jung Jun]

Jun hefted the rather powerful machine gun, it weighed a lot more than an assault rifle but she was not about to start complaining. The other marine Edwards probably had the worst deal out of all of them, carrying the spare ammunition for her weapon. If the training exercise went horrifically bad they might end up needing to use all of the spare ammunition.
She remained quiet keeping her thoughts to herself, her mind focusing on the coming task at hand. Hopefully victory would be a simple affair. Jun believed it to be important that they achieved victory here.

After all was training not just preparing them for the actual battles that they were likely to face in the future? Min decided to try and not get herself killed in this exercise, if it could be at all helped. She thought getting herself killed might grow to become an unwelcome almost nasty habit. One which she really should not attempt to try in a real battle instead of one of these training fights.

Min nodded the once to her squad as a silent way to say that she was now ready for battle, or as ready as she will ever be. She shook her head at Zach when he inquired if there may be anything else he should pack for her. "Just a few bottles of white wine and a small anvil." She smirked at him, looking rather amused with her joke.

The best part about hefting the machinegun meant you were not going to have to carry the equally heavy ammuntion. The down side to this however was that it also meant you were going to draw a lot more fire than say a marine with an assault rifle.
There were pros and cons to it, machineguns lacked something to Jun, they were not explosive enough for her tastes, loud yes but no where near loud enough. Why speak when a roaring lead belching weapon of war could accomplish the task for you?

[Durant, M.]

Alexei watched as his squad prepared to move into the unknown. Bravo Company had been given plenty of time to set up all across the valley, and at any point the Platoon could come under fire. It was the closest thing to a real combat scenario that the CIs could concoct. This exercise would be a huge test of all the Marines had learned, and it was no where near their toughest challenge yet.

He had confidence in his squad. Romanov had spent a lot of time with them over the last few weeks, working with each Marine individually to sharpen their skills and cover the topics that they had been struggling with. There was no guarantee that they had retained the knowledge completely, but they were a motivated bunch. He could not conceive a reason why they would not pay attention to all that he had to teach them.

After all, he was a veteran of the war. He knew better than they what the Covenant were capable of. The Covenant were an unforgiving and uncompromising enemy of humanity. Many of the Marines before him likely would not return home from their first deployments, though it was his goal to ensure that they proved him wrong through proper training and instruction. It was difficult training so many young men and women for war. You grow so close to them and teach them so much only to have the dubious honor of sending them off to their probable deaths at the hands of the Covenant menace.

"Platoon, eyes on me," the platoon sergeant barked.

Alexei turned and regarded the grizzled veteran with half-interest. Whatever words the SNCO had were for the students; a cautionary message or a last minute string of instructions. Even still, he paid attention to all that the platoon Sergeant had to say.

"I would like to remind all of you that your weapons are loaded with TTR rounds," Ysaris stated. "If you are shot, the round will immobilize the spot in which you were hit. This is to simulate the effects of live rounds. If you're shot in the leg, it will be temporarily paralyzed, much like your leg would be if shot by live seven-six-two. Remember to aim for center mass. While TTR is safer than live ammo, a shot to the face can still kill you. No spraying and praying. We aim for our fucking targets."

Alexei glanced back at his squad. "The first fucker I catch aiming for a face shot will be cleaning shit out of the shitters for the next three weeks," he threatened, ensuring the point was understood.

Staff Sergeant Ysaris waved the platoon forward. "We're Oscar Mike! Staggered Column. Second Squad on point!"

Sergeant Romanov nodded. "Squad, column! Roll out!"

The platoon moved forward with Second Squad at the helm. Second Team had the front, leading the platoon into the brush, and beyond that, the unknown.

[Mihaylov, D.]

Dmitrii was doing his best to get his head on straight, remembering the skills that had been driven into his skull the last few weeks in an attempt to be a competent point man. While his land nav was plenty decent, it was the awareness needed that made him poor at his current task. Mihaylov looked too far down range much of the time and missed the telltale signs right in front of him. It was this habit that made him a great marksman, but was damning as a point man.

On top of this, his teammates were proving to be excellent company. Min had a dry wit that tickled Dmitrii to no end. He did his best to stifle a laugh when she answered Electric's frustrated question. 

"Good thing you have team with good jokes, eh Lectric," Dmitrii said quickly, still trying to fight off another chuckle. "No worries of boredom with us."

The call from the SNCO came and Dmitrii immediately pulled himself together and focused on the man's words. His warning was legit. Mihaylov had heard about people having serious complications from taking dummy rounds to the face. It wasn't something he wished to be a part of, on either side of that equation. A curt nod showed he was paying attention and then the call came to move out. Hurrying to the front of the column, Dmitrii strode out with confidence. It was false confidence, but at the moment it was all he had.

[Edward, Z.]

Zach looked at the shells as he loaded his gun. They cant be serious about these stun rounds. But on the safe side ill make sure I pump our enemy full of it so I don't have to try this for myself. Hope Min doesn't get shot otherwise I'll be packing both gun and ammo.


He watched the fish soak in the orders. Hope he gives clear commands. Zach was in no mood to get shot. No one wanted to get shot.

"Yea, I guess. Lets just not get shot please. If we survive this on the first try First round is on me."

Listening to the safety speech, reminded Zach of the numerous lectures he was given during his many classes, then a few of the bad memories where he had so sit in the solitary box for a week, a few times. He snapped out of his silent daze at the end of the speech. "There's no way I'm going back to that small box." Zach muttered to himself.

[Min Jung Jun]

"I'm not joking." Min teased quietly, though going into a mock fight with the ammo mule carrying three bottles of white wine and a small anvil might be inappropriate for him. She calmly loaded the machinegun, the heavy weapon possessing a somewhat comforting weight in her hands. She listened to the safety speech, finding it more than slightly ironic.

War even mock war happened to be a dangerous, hazardous undertaking. Safe really was something which happened to not be part of her world. Though when one had a machinegun there were few things that might be seen as a threat.



She nodded the once hoping that no one in her fire team managed to get her shot and 'killed'. Rubber round still hurt like hell if one possessed the rather poor fortunate to actually get hit by one.



Jun took her place in the column, part of her wishing for the engagement to already be over another looking forward to the coming battle. Hopefully they would all make it back 'alive' since this was one battle where death happened to only be a temporary condition. Mostly.

[Durant, M.]

0615 Hours, July 1, 2542 (MILITARY CALENDAR) /
Military Wilderness Training Preserve, Highland Mountains,
Reach, Epsilon Eridani System

A little over an hour after their mission had began, Alexei found himself surrounded by dense vegetation. The forest had swallowed them up minutes into their trek, and had presented many navigational challenges for his Marines. Second Squad, being the point element for the platoon, led the way through the brush and foliage.

There had been a couple of instances where the platoon had needed to halt so that his Marines could ascertain their position on the map and ensure they were on the right bearing towards their objective. So far the combat instructor had, to his amazement, not needed to step in. Mihaylov and his team lead managed to figure everything out on their own, and because of that he was impressed.

He wouldn't show it, of course. The Marines in his squad needed to suffer some in order to learn anything, in his opinion. If he congratulated them every time they did something right it would only feed their egos and make them complacent. That was something that he could not allow, under any circumstances, to happen. Complacency was perhaps the number one killer of Marines.

No. He would save any congratulatory speeches for after their mission, should their company succeed in their mission. Alexei blinked at the map icon on his Heads Up Display and referenced their position on the map relative to their objective. The platoon still had a long ways to go before reaching their objective, but they were making decent progress.

Sergeant Romanov closed the map and turned his attention to his squad. They were currently moving towards a small gulley that would eventually come to a two hundred meter clearing. He had suspicions that the clearing would be the first point in which they would receive contact, but he said nothing to his Marines. They needed to learn what to look out for on their own.

"Stay frosty, Marines," he barked into the boom microphone over the team freq. So far they seemed to be paying attention to what they were doing and were watching their fields of fire, but it never hurt to throw out a reminder just in case. These were boots, after all.

"Uniform One-Two, come in," rang the platoon sergeant's voice over the radio.

"Send it, over."

"Halt your squad at the bottom of the gulley," Staff Sergeant Ysaris ordered. "One-One will push ahead to scout out the clearing. Over."

Alexei nodded. "Roger, over."

"Out."

Sergeant Romanov did as he was told. When Second Squad reached the bottom of the gulley, where the ground began to slope upwards towards the clearing, he keyed his radio and ordered the squad to a halt. He watched as his Marines stopped and dropped to their knees, each team vigilantly scanning for targets while stationary. He was even able to hear Second Team's leader order his Marines into a line formation, placing all their firepower up front since they were on point.

He would have to make a note to commend the team leader for making such a superb judgment call later.

Romanov watched as First Squad etched past his squad and disappeared into the brush upslope ahead of them. Part of him hoped that there was, in fact, an ambush in place awaiting them. He wanted to see how his Marines would perform in such a scenario. Technically the SOP when encountering an ambush was to be aggressive and assault through it, although there were plenty of other avenues that his team leaders could take, and he wanted to see firsthand what they would decide to do.

If there wasn't an ambush, though, it wouldn't bother him. There would be plenty of opportunities down the road for his squad to stumble upon an ambush, so he wasn't all that concerned about it. They had a long way to go before reaching their objective, and he was certain they would encounter the enemy before long.

"One-One to One Actual, we're clear up ahead." Alexei heard the call from First Squad over the platoon net and nodded. Another time, then. He was just about to prepare his squad to movement when he caught something out of his peripherial. A blur of motion.

The Sergeant turned and scanned the area to their left carefully, raising his rifle up about a quarter of an inch. His eyes swept from left to right, inspecting every ounce of brush that appeared dense enough to conceal an enemy combatant. He saw nothing. Not a single shred of evidence that there was anyone out there.

He shrugged. Perhaps it was nothing.

Crack! The sound resonated through the forest, making it difficult to determine which direction the noise came from. Alexei was just about to shoulder his weapon when the first shot rang out.

"CONTACT RIGHT!" someone bellowed, and all of a sudden the air filled with crimson tracers.

Romanov dropped to his stomach in a flash and brought his weapon to bare, searching for targets from behind his rifle. TTR zipped and hissed overhead. A couple of rounds landed a few meters from his face, indicating someone had a bead on his position. He returned fire.

"Return fire!" he screamed over the crescendo of gunfire. "Talking guns! Suppress those assholes and prepare to move!"

Private Bonavento barely heard the orders of Sergeant Romanov over the chorus of battle. He shouldered his rifle and snapped onto the nearest exposed target and let loose a two round burst to the combatant's chest. "Jun, Edward, stay low and suppress anything on our three," Bonavento barked, passing on the squad leader's orders. "Mihaylov, you and I are gonna bound up ten meters and then cover Jun and Edward as they advance up to us. Once we get to that clearing we'll have clear fields of fire to lay the hurt on these bastards!"

[Mihaylov, D.]

Dmitrii had wound his way through the woodlands far better than he had expected. The limited tools allowed to him on the HUD were enough to make following the map easy enough. There were a few rough patches where he had to stop and double check his heading, but the land navigation he had been taught at Boot was enough to see the beach boy through the woods. He was glad when they were called to a halt at the edge of the gully. He needed a few moments to collect his wits and rest his eyes. With the call to change formations, Dmitrii found himself in the enviable position of simply going prone.

It was a lazy watch for him, trying to relieve the building tension that came from being on point. He scrubbed his eyes, rubbed sweat from his face as best he could without ruining his paint, and made slow smooth stretches to try and settle his nerves. The constant searching for a path and for an ambush had worn on him in a way he hadn’t expected or even noticed till the reprieve. It was exciting though, and Mihaylov thought he had perhaps missed his calling by being given the role of SDM.

That was until contact hit. The chaos and boom of combat swirled around him, and gunfire echoed and the noise swirled in the woods, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint the shooters. It took every piece of self control for him to not just sink deeper into the ground as TTR rounds cracked past him, zipping through the air with a distinct sound he was intimately familiar with. He continued to scan, but could make nothing out of the chaos known as war.

Finally, with the words of his team leader ringing in his ear, he pinpointed an enemy combatant. Next to him as Jun and Edwards opened up, he prepared to move, his muscles reacting from training, not conscious thought. He pushed himself up to a knee and took off in a sprint, Bonavento keeping pace to his right. After two steps he had picked out his next piece of cover and after five more steps he threw himself towards it head first. It was a panicked, rookie move, but it had been effective and as he adjusted himself to find a target he indicated that he was in cover via his HUD link.

Now it was his turn to cover his teammates. Private Bonavento seemed to think volume of fire was the most effective means of that, but Mihaylov knew better. Picking a single target, he drove home a TTR round into the shoulder of his trigger arm. Cursing replaced gunfire and he watched another enemy roll behind a tree to take cover himself. Except his foot. Mihaylov took another calming breath, his heart pounding in his ears, and squeezed off another round into the man’s foot. Another curse echoed across the battlefield, silencing another gun.

“Pour it on these bastards,” he called out, flipping to burst mode to add his own gunfire to the chaos. He no long had a point target and chaos was as much cover as anything else for Jun to bring the big gun to bear. He had taken his first shock of combat and survived. Now it was time to thrive.

[Min Jung Jun]

Min found the journey through the woodlands to be far more difficult than she expected. The machinegun weighed heavily in her hands and sweat greased her brow. Min scanned the area around them, her eyes flicking nervously around, searching the foliage for any signs of the hidden enemy. Reach was the most beautiful world, she happened to be distinctly proud to have grown up on such a world.
The calm beauty however was suddenly shattered into a thousand shards by contact with the enemy. Instinctively, she dropped down onto one knee, returning fire at the enemy positions.

Upon hearing her new orders she unleashed suppressing fire against the enemy. A trio of impacts hit her in the left side, one in her thigh, two in her left arm. She cried out in pain, as she slumped forward the earth rushing forward to meet her. Min let out a groan, the bullets having numbed her limbs to replicate her having received a real injury.

Annoyingly, it made perfect sense to knock out one of the enemies' machine gunners early in the fire fight. Still it hurt her a lot. Min tried to move her left leg and left arm. She managed to prop up her machinegun on the dirt and resume fire, if with severely reduced accuracy. Min however could not move easily under her own power as she was unable to move her left leg.

She hoped her fire team would make it out of this. Min blamed herself for getting hit. She called to Dmitrii. "Take the gun." Min attempted to pass over the machinegun to him. She knew that she happened to be more than effectively out of fight at least for the moment. The 'wounds' hurt considerably, but nowhere near as much as the previous wounds which she sustained.