Turn 4: Down in the Valley

[Corporal Hicks]

With the trap sprung the Seccessionists opened fire on the moving marines. A round tore through the foilage slapping into a tree by Sam's head spraying splinters into her ear and cheek.
Another punched into the ground beside Mark's left kneecap. Bullets were flying in low and hard.
<Action>

Eric Roberts jumped again as the whiz of bullets went past them. He could see tiny bursts of fire between the trees where the enemy bullets came from. His targeting eye-piece locked onto one of these targets instantly. Roberts turned the Smartgun in line with the target and cocked it.

"Open fire!" he shouted and squeezed the trigger. He allowed his targeting sensor to choose his targets as he fired burst after burst into the woods.

(Aim, Fire, Aim, Fire, Aim, Fire)

[Quinn]

Quinn was about to snarl again at Morse when he cracked the casing open on the mine. He kept his mouth shut because any distraction could cause the mine to detonate. He did not move from where he was, as he could be the next one to step on a mine. So he removed his knife and began to probe the ground around him carefully to move away from the device.

He'd gotten ten feet away from Morse when the mine detonated. It was a sizable one, slapping Quinn to the ground like an incredibly large man hitting him with a pillow. This was fortunate, as Morse went flying over him and onto the ground nearby. The only sound was a flat ringing in his ears and a feeling of disorientation. He rolled from his back onto his stomach. A mine that big wouldn't have any others nearby for the simple reason of sympathetic detonation. He would be suffering a concussion as a result. Don't fall asleep.

His hearing slowly returned to him and Morse was screaming his lungs hoarse in pain. Colson was kneeling next to him with his K52 already out, and shots were being fired somewhere in the jungle.

"Sergeant, Corporal, sitrep!" he barked over the radio, his damaged hearing not having picked up Sam's call to him. He stumbled over to Morse's side, removed his sidearm and placed it on the Marine's chest where he could easily grab it in case he had to open fire. It'd be faster than snatching at his rifle, which was...

Quinn looked around and couldn't see his damn rifle! A surge of panic hit him that he fought down. Later, he'd deal with that later.

"Colson, hit him with some morphine." Quinn said, his voice now level. The morphine would not only act as a painkiller but also slow Morse's heart rate, thus lowering the chance of the man bleeding out. Quinn himself removed the belt from his pants and tied it around Morse's leg, tightening it down severely. That would likely hurt. After "Coleslaw" injected the morphine, Sixtus nodded at the medkit. "Bonesaw..."

<tag Dirk, Sam>
<tag Colson, Morse>

[maxvale76]

Still coming down from her surge of anger and fear after the mine explosion and Boothe's sudden take-off to run to Morse's position; Samantha had a delayed reaction the near miss of shots that nearly hit her and her squad-mates.

"That's great....just fucking great"; she almost sighed to herself. Then the adrenaline kicked in and her eyes snapped open and she quickly whirled around and behind a tree that she could use as cover as she snapped her Pulse Rifle up and switched off the safety. "Giosso, get behind cover; Roberts lay down some supressing-"; she stopped as the veteran Gunner had already opened up on the enemy. "-Good, good"; she finished.

She took a deep breath, held it and aimed for a muzzle flash before firing a short burst at it; and then repeated the process at a second muzzle flash. She spoke over the platoon-wide channel as she did so; "This is Hall; we're taking incoming fire and returning it. No casualties so far; any help would be appreciated."

After she had fired a couple of bursts; she looked to determine if she could see any clusters of muzzle flashes or any other indicators of a group of Rebels together. If she saw any; she would bring her Grenade launcher into play.

Combat Actions: Aim for 2; Fire; Aim for 2; Fire
If Sam can tell that there's multiple bad-guys close together; next round she will Aim for 5 and then fire a Grenade....if they're within range, that is!

<Tag 1st Squad>

<Tag Everyone>

[EVSA]

Firing a burst in the ennemy's general direction, Bell hit the deck hard. Once the smartgun opened up he adjusted his position so the tree he was kneeling beside was actually between him and the incoming fire. crawling for better cover before scanning and firing.

Combat Actions: Fire; adjust position if needed; Aim for 2; fire; Aim for 2; fire
If the ennemy gets too reckless I'll cut down on aiming to put more bullets down range.
OOC: Never played this, please let me know if I'm making any sense.

[Dirk Pitt]

An icy feeling crept up Dirk's spine as he listened to the comm traffic between Morse and Quinn . He knew before Quinn ordered Morse to stand down and wait that the salty Marine would take matters in his own hands and try to disarm the land mine by him self. It was the way he was, hell it was the way they all were. That's why they were in the eights, and still alive. This time though the gods of fate frowned on the eights as the sound of the land mine exploding reached Dirk.

BOOM

”Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhh Fuck! Ahhhhhhhhh Fuck!” He repeated.

Then looked down at his legs, which were in immense pain. His left pant leg was torn up, with visible holes in it from what was likely shrapnel. But that was the easy blow, and not the real problem.

His right leg however was missing from just below the knee down.

Realizing this, Morse’s expletives grew louder and more specific. ”Ohhhhhhhh FUCK! MY FUCKIN’ LEG!”

He looked and saw it was resting a few yards away from him. ”IS THAT MY LEG!? WHAT FUCK!? WHY THE FUCK IS IT OVER THERE!” Morse continued to roar incoherently repeating his favorite phrase for the moment. ”Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!”

< Tag Anyone

"Morse? Sound off.." He yelled into the mic but the only reply was his old friend's screams and the disconcerting sound of Morse looking for what was left of his leg.

"Dirk, Sal." He recalled their former LT was a field medic, probably a better one than Sal. "advancing to Assist," He kept his eyes open. "Will carry Morse back if prudent." Dirk was also a much more experience rifleman than Sal, so he was better off at the front.

<Tag Dirk>

"Roger that Sal. Third will move up your left to cover. Keep that moron alive, cause I'm going to kill him"
<Tag Sal>

With the trap sprung the Seccessionists opened fire on the moving marines. A round tore through the foilage slapping into a tree by Sam's head spraying splinters into her ear and cheek.
Another punched into the ground beside Mark's left kneecap. Bullets were flying in low and hard.
<Action>

The sound of weapons fire flipped a switch in Dirk's head. It was a fight now and these bastards had set and sprung a trap for them. At this point there was only one choice. They would have to fight their way through the trap. Taking aim Dirk let loose a stream of 10 mm death aimed at the advancing enemy.

"Open fire third. All enemy targets. Demitri, Obrien. Head left ten yards and then advance. Mac and I will be on your right and advancing towards the enemy. Don't frickin shoot me. MacGregger, on me. Stay low and advance at my pace. We're going to outflank them and kill every one of those SOBs. Lets move." Dirk said between firing.
<Tag Demitri, Obrien and Mac>

Quinn, this is Pitt. Third is advancing on the left. We'll try and outflank the hostiles and catch them in a crossfire between first and third."
<Tag Quinn>

"Sam, I hope you caught that. Third is on the move."
<Tag Sam>

[MarcusOTerra]

Sal reached the Second squad with little apparent resistance, only to find that Quinn and Colson in the middle of some old fashion trench medicine on Morse who was... well missing his leg.

"Fuck." Sal swore. Without kicking up dust or dirt he set down the field surgery kit where Quinn and Colson could reach it without any problems. "Special delivery." Sal said in a clear voice. Hopefully he wouldn't shot in the near future. "Field Kit, all the spares the basic leaves out." Quinn surely knew what was in the kit; likely better than Sal. He didn't want to distract Quinn from saving Morse's life.

<Drop Field Surgery Kit>
<Tag Quinn>

He put an ear to his comm and switch to the First Squad discrete channel. "Sam, Sal;" He spoke sternly, with some authority, "Band aids delivered, Quinn's elbow deep in More's knee." There was an image Sam surely didn't need. where's the fire coming from, relative to you?"

[maxvale76]

While never letting her attention shift from viewing the hostiles firing at her squad; Samantha answered Boothe on a private channel and then Dirk on the platoon wide one.

"Roger that Boothe; I admire your instincts to rush to the injured marine; but next time check with me first; Morse already has two corpsman with him in Quinn and Colson. The enemy fire is coming from due North of us*"."

"We're taking incoming fire from more or less due North of my current position Sarge"; Hall replied to Dirk. "Giving them something to worry about from a different position sure would be appreciated here."

*I'm going with North is UP when looking at the map....if this is incorrect, please let me know and I'll edit the map

<Tag Boothe>
<Tag Dirk and everyone>

[Quicksilver]

"Yipe!' Mark exclaimed as the first bullet crashed through the foliage just inches from his knee. He instinctually shuffled himself back away from the impact site and behind a tree, putting the thick living wood between him and the separatist weaponry. Well, that answers that question, he thought as his wits caught up with his instinct. Taking a breath to steel his courage, he quickly reached back out and dragged his backpack behind cover with him. There was a small den dent and patch of fabric missing where a round had glanced off the integrated radio's armored casing. Mark winced, not wanting to think about what that would have done if he and the bag had switched places.

"Ma'am, they know we're here, but they may not have reported our exact condition. Permission for wide area jamming?"

<Comms Use, Jamming (except our frequencies) or finding their frequencies to attempt decryption.>

[maxvale76]

"Absolutely Mark"; Hall answered Giosso without taking her attention from the enemy; "And you can just call me Sam, or Corporal, or Miss Bossy-pants....I'm enlisted just like you, remember?"; she teased, strange as it was to do so in the middle of a fire-fight.

<Tag Giosso>

[Morse]

In every way possible Morse was in shock. Obviously his body was in immense physical shock. He had an explosive device detonate directly beneath him, and he was thrown through the air. Hi leg was several yards away from the rest of his body and all of that left him in incredible pain. But it was the mental hit that was the worst. He could not believe what had been done to him. How could he have been the one to have stepped on a mine.

Morse had not ever been one for the mentality of ‘better you then me’ in regards to the new people, but he did not see exactly how it was right that he, the most combat capable person in the platoon, who was eager and ready to shred colonial insurrectionists by the dozen, was the one who happened to have stepped on the most basic of traps.

Truly it was an issue of the luck of the draw. Anyone could have stepped on it. There was no way to see it. No one in the platoon was more readily prepared to disarm it then he was, and even he had failed.

There was only one way that Morse could conjure up to express how he felt, but as he spoke clearly, he could not hear as his ears were still ringing.

”Ahhhhhhhhhhhh Fuck! Goddammit! Fuckin’ Shit FUCK!” He continued to repeat over and over again in varying combinations.

He was not silent until after Quinn got up to him. He was not sure what was going on. His Smartgun was still zip tied to his chest, and he didn’t know what to do.

He gritted his teeth down and began to grind them together and growled through them, much quieter but still audible.

”Hrrrrrrrrr frgggrgggrr hrrrr.”

He did not know what to do, but he remained where he was, unable to move, knowing that in one of the odd moments of his entire life, he was actually aware that he was scared.


< Tag Anyone

[MarcusOTerra]

With Quinn and the others dedicated to fixing Morse and keeping him from being shot further, Sal took it as a cue to return to his squad. He made a slow path into the tree line. He had hoped to use one of the trees for cover or perspective during their ambush, but before he could so much as climb one, all of this had started.

So the spikes he had hanging from his pack were just about useless, he supposed. Might be good for stabbing some fool, quiet like.

There was a burst of static over the comms before they returned to normal. Someone had 'snowglobed' the local radio. Not bad. It might keep the reinforcements off balance, but at this point, it was open season in the region.

All the same he kept his eyes out for mines, signs of the bush being meddled with, or generally places were the grass had been stamped down.
<Roll Awareness:>

Rather than retrace his tracks, he was moving steadly 'north east', hopefully he'd flank some of the attackers.

He was moving briskly, but not at the speed he ran to get to Morse. It'd take a moment, but better than being another mine trigger. He kept his body low and used the cover to mask his approach as the gunshots got louder and louder.

<Roll Infiltration>

[EVSA]

After scanning the area and realising that he had been frightened like a nervous hen, Bell let Booth lead him by 10 yards and tagged behind Boothe, hoping to give him a hand at flanking the opposition. Walking by the site of Morse's quarter dismemberment he felt an uneasy numbness in his chest. Death was lurking close by, he was learning what it meant cower in the presence of fear death's oppressive presence.

-Roll infiltration
-Roll scouting
-Roll bladder control

[Pale Rider]

The bullets flew in hard and fast. Suddenly the bullets stopped, the silence was total except for lurid screams of Morse.

"United Systems Murderers, you can not hope to defeat us. Your government is filling you with lies. Lay down your weapons! We will provide you safety and medical aid for your wounded soldier. We are a peaceful people! You have 15 minutes to give an answer!"

<ACTION>

[EVSA]

Hall's radio crackled "Cpl Hall, second squad leader is down. Joining your net. Me and Boothe are carrying on with the flanking. Waiting for instructions before weapons hot."

[Corporal Hicks]

The bullets flew in hard and fast. Suddenly the bullets stopped, the silence was total except for lurid screams of Morse.

"United Systems Murderers, you can not hope to defeat us. Your government is filling you with lies. Lay down your weapons! We will provide you safety and medical aid for your wounded soldier. We are a peaceful people! You have 15 minutes to give an answer!"

<ACTION>

Roberts let go of the trigger a few seconds after the fire stopped. As the sound of the voice filled the air, he rushed behind the biggest tree he could find. Holding his Smartgun vertical to the ground, he looked over at Sam. "Fuck! Orders?"

<Tag Sam>